Prince Su, Li Long, had finally confessed. Now imprisoned in the imperial dungeon, the Emperor appointed the Minister of Justice, the Imperial Censor-in-Chief, and the Adjudicator of the Dali Temple to jointly preside over his trial. With testimony from Liu Yan and other officers, denial was futile. Moreover, Zhang Li, a former subordinate of Prince Su, betrayed him in exchange for his life and detailed all his past transgressions.
"Do you know about the treason case involving Prince Chen twelve years ago?" Li Jing asked Ye Jiao. But as he spoke, he suddenly recalled her background and sneered with schadenfreude, "Of course you do—your entire family was ruined by him. Back then, even the mention of your household brought ill fortune."
By that logic, she and Li Ce truly were destined for each other.
Ye Jiao gently blew across the edge of a sharp sword, her expression cold as ice. The chill in her eyes silenced Li Jing at once.
"You—" He shrank back and muttered, "Do you want to hear or not?"
Ye Jiao raised her eyes, signaling him to continue.
Back then, Prince Chen, Li Qian, had been ordered to quell a rebellion. He held the imperial token, which granted him command over one hundred thousand troops. After eliminating the rebels, he refused to return the token. The Emperor then sent the Crown Prince, Li Long, to retrieve it. But before he even set off, Prince Chen had already initiated his rebellion.
Li Long was then tasked with leading the suppression campaign. He delivered the imperial decree sentencing Li Qian to death and was thereafter granted the title of Prince Su. Yet, the truth was far more sinister.
Sima Cheng'en had arrived in the capital with the military token before the rebellion began. He met Li Long on Imperial Street, pleading for an audience with the Emperor. Li Long deceived him, claiming the Emperor was too enraged and suggested meeting later at Yuqiong Tower.
They arrived separately: Sima Cheng'en with the token, and Li Long with Zhang Li in tow. Zhang Li subdued Sima, and with a poisoned cup of wine, ended his life.
Li Long intended to stage it as a suicide from guilt. But just then, the innkeeper announced someone was waiting outside for "Daoist Master Sima"—a eunuch, judging by his appearance. To avoid arousing suspicion, they buried Sima deep beneath the floor and dismissed the guest, pretending to be his guards helping him check out.
As for Prince Chen, Li Long had someone feign an assassination attempt. Deceived, Prince Chen led his troops south. Regardless of whether his intention was to seek explanation or commit treason, the moment the army moved, the entire court was thrown into chaos.
"That's how it happened," Li Jing said, animated and vivid in his storytelling. "That's how Father appointed Li Long to suppress the revolt and made him Prince Su at just twenty years of age. I was indignant for a long time. Who knew his unremarkable title came at such a price?"
Ye Jiao sat in silence, her mind racing. Many things now made sense. Most likely, the eunuch waiting outside Yuqiong Tower that night had been sent by Li Ce to fetch the elixir. But Sima Cheng'en had died at Li Long's hands. Prince Chen's household was eradicated. Her own noble family declined. And Li Ce—had wasted away on the sickbed ever since, suspended between life and death.
Ye Jiao's sword trembled slightly in her grasp. She asked, "So, Prince Chen… was he falsely accused?"
"No," Li Jing replied firmly. "Even if he fell into a trap, he refused to return the token first. He claimed border defenses were weak and offered to remain stationed there. But this empire belongs to the Emperor. What business did a royal uncle, a mere prince, have interfering? And if Li Long, of all people, could deceive him into moving his army south, then Prince Chen must have been completely muddleheaded—utterly blind."
So it wasn't all Li Long's fault—Prince Chen had brought disaster upon himself?
Ye Jiao sheathed her sword with a bitter sigh. "So this is what courtly power struggles are like…?"
Intrigue, treachery, suspicion, betrayal—it was like walking a razor's edge, a single misstep leading to utter ruin. One death might be acceptable, but often entire families were implicated, unable to meet a peaceful end.
"Exactly," Li Jing replied, slipping a hand into his sleeve to touch something cold and solid. "But don't worry. Ninth Brother and I are clever enough to avoid that fate."
He then drew out a Taishan stone talisman, finally daring to step closer to Ye Jiao. "So if Father summons you, could you perhaps say a few good words about me?"
"What kind of good words?" Ye Jiao asked, puzzled.
"Like how I spent my entire fortune on Ninth Brother," Li Jing lamented. "After our last fight, I had all my salary deducted. I've been living off the princess consort's silver ever since. Look at Ninth Brother—medicines one day, attendants the next—he's bleeding me dry! Last night, the princess consort pinched my thigh, saying my gifts were too cheap."
Thinking of this, Li Jing fumed. All because Ye Jiao had nothing better to do than teach the consort self-defense. She had no one else to defend against but him. Last night, he'd tried something new and was thoroughly beaten.
In a coaxing tone, he added, "Once you and Ninth Brother are married, I'll send a generous gift."
Ye Jiao shot to her feet in alarm. "Who said we were getting married?"
Li Jing clicked his tongue and glanced around the room with disdain. "He's so taken with you, of course he'll want to marry you."
"Nonsense!" Ye Jiao snapped, turning abruptly—only to hit her head against the open window pane. "Ouch!" She recoiled, clutching her forehead, knocking over a basket of herbs in the process. Red-faced with frustration, she stormed back inside—only to nearly stumble into someone's arms.
She looked up to see a pale-faced Li Ce, dressed in a simple white sleeping robe, his features even more delicate than usual. After three days in a coma, he looked thinner, as if a breeze could topple him.
Li Ce's face was taut with concern. "Are you hurt? I heard you cry out and thought…"
In his daze, he had imagined Ye Jiao lost in the dangers of Mount Li.
His worst nightmare was her being in harm's way.
"I'm fine," Ye Jiao muttered, eyes avoiding his gaze. "Just bumped into the window."
Then she added, blaming Li Jing, "It's all the Zhao Prince's fault—talking nonsense again."
Li Jing ignored the accusation, instead exclaiming joyfully, "Ninth Brother is awake! Thank the heavens—no more ginseng tomorrow!"
Ginseng was expensive. Every root saved was money in his pocket. With his salary docked, life at home had grown increasingly dire.
"You don't have to buy it," Ye Jiao said, seeing his plight. "I'll bring a whole basket tomorrow—eat as much as you like."
She supported Li Ce and helped him back to bed.
Li Jing followed, beaming. "Perfect. Give me two roots. I'll tie red strings on them and go visit my uncle-in-law. The prince consort fell from his horse and is bedridden."
He rambled on about the princess's husband's injuries, but Li Ce's eyes never left Ye Jiao.
"I'd like a word with Miss Ye," he said softly.
"Go ahead," Li Jing replied. "I want to listen too."
Li Ce had no choice but to turn to him again. "Would you mind stepping outside for a moment, Fifth Brother?"
Li Jing's face fell. Was he being kicked out? Outrageous. Whose house was this, anyway?
He started to leave, but at the doorway, he stopped suddenly. Turning back with a stunned look, he asked, "What… what did you call me?"
Behind the screen, Li Ce coughed gently and answered slowly, "Fifth Brother."
"No way." Li Jing returned, eyebrows raised. "Did you really call me 'Fifth Brother'? Hahaha! You did!"
He laughed as though he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure.
Ye Jiao looked at him in bewilderment. "Prince Zhao… are you daft?"
You are his brother—what's the big deal?
But Li Jing had already strode out, head held high like a rooster crowing at dawn.
"You don't understand," his voice faded into the courtyard, "you know nothing."
He had never called anyone "brother" before—always "elder brother," always distant, always unwilling. He considered himself more capable than any of the others—First, Second, Third, Fourth… even Eighth.
But now that Ninth Brother had finally called him "Fifth Brother"… perhaps he would keep calling him that. Hopefully forever. Especially if it meant spending less.