Chapter 6

This seemed to be a very subtle weather vane, whispered about by those within the palace.

At first, they said that the princess’s words were outrageous, offending the emperor, and that she would likely be punished or reprimanded. Perhaps the emperor was reluctant to make a decision regarding the northern front, so naturally, others would find another reason on his behalf.

For example, she had struck her younger sister, Princess Ningfu, in the Zishan Hall. Such rude behavior warranted some discipline, didn’t it?

This matter circulated briefly within the palace, but without an official decree, it quietly subsided.

Those who feared then began to fear anew. On such a hot day, Zhao Luming had just washed her hair before the evening meal, still damp and wringing out her handkerchief when Princess Ningfu arrived.

Her demeanor was humble; upon entering, she quickly kowtowed, catching her sister off guard.

“All the fault is mine,” her voice trembling, “I beg you, sister, to be magnanimous and spare your foolish sister!”

Soaking wet, Zhao Luming was momentarily stunned.

“I only pushed you once,” she said, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It was I who provoked you first; your anger is understandable,” the little one on the floor couldn’t hold back and began to sob, “If it eases your anger, even if you beat me to death, it wouldn’t be too much!”

She carefully recalled what the child had said yesterday...

Almost unable to remember.

After washing the child’s face with fresh water and bringing in hot tea, Madam Wei came twice, bringing a box of exquisite snacks from her own allowance, inviting them to sit and eat. She smiled warmly and gently admonished them not to quarrel again before leaving.

“You change your expression every day,” Zhao Luming picked up a snack and handed it to her, “I almost don’t recognize you.”

The little one, just having accepted the fried lychee pastry, pouted and was about to cry again.

“Someone must have taught you to act this way. They didn’t expect the winds to shift so quickly after teaching you to bully me yesterday, so you feel wronged.”

The child burst into even harder tears, once again disturbing Madam Wei.

Even with the “celestial child” aura, she got a thorough scolding from the young lady.

Princess Ningfu’s life was somewhat bitter, as Zhao Luming had overheard palace maids whispering palace matters.

This little girl’s birth mother, Lady Cui, was originally a noble consort in the palace. If historical records were accurate, this consort had given birth to one prince and five princesses in a mere five years from the fourth year of the Daguan era to the fourth year of the Zhenghe era, a testament to Emperor Huizong’s favor.

But that was ten years ago. After giving birth to Princess Ningfu, perhaps due to the toll on her beauty and figure from frequent childbirth, she gradually fell out of the emperor’s favor. When Empress Mingjie died two years prior, the emperor accused her of insufficient mourning—“not crying deeply or earnestly enough”—and blamed her for the empress’s death, demoting her directly from noble consort to commoner.

Such a fall: once loved despite the toll of frequent childbirth, birthing six children in five years; once unloved, stripped of even the most basic silk robes, reduced to the status of a mere palace maid.

Thus, Ningfu’s world was surreal. Before age seven, she was the noble consort’s daughter, a leader among the little ones; after seven, a commoner’s daughter, suddenly anyone could bully her.

As for the two other princesses making snide remarks, Zhao Luming knew they were from similarly low-born mothers. Their palace maids were like sieves—whisper a few half-truths in the little girls’ ears, and they would jump to act.

Their methods were crude, simple, and brutal.

But what cunning did it take to deal with a little girl? The palace folk were wicked but not foolish; even she was not their ultimate target.

The fried pastry was a bit much.

Greasy, not eaten hot, doubling the sweetness and cloying richness.

Though these Song dynasty nobles lived well, their culinary knowledge had not advanced to later eras’ appreciation for light, healthy food. Whether founding emperors, wealthy citizens of Bianjing, or these flower-adorned noblewomen, they loved fried foods—fried meat, fried breaded meat, fried sweets, fried breaded sweets.

The little girl tearfully ate half a plate of fried lychee pastries, her blood sugar and mood finally stabilizing, so she stopped crying.

“Take the rest with you, box and all,” she said, “to give to your young lady.”

“My young lady won’t eat them,” Ningfu replied. “She’ll be annoyed and make me throw them out.”

Madam Wei, around her early thirties, no longer caught the emperor’s eye, living day by day on memories, imagining past love, favor, wealth, and power.

The palace was full of such women—only women could be so weak as to be mocked. Even the emperor, once like the sky, began to live day by day on memories, imagining past glory, flowers, and beauties in a bitter, cold place.

“Then I’ll put the snacks away; you can come back tomorrow to eat,” Zhao Luming said. “The emperor is busy bestowing titles on the Marquis of Pangu; I’ll have to leave the palace for a few days before it’s my turn.”

Hearing this, the little one’s eyes welled with tears again. “If sister can leave the palace, I cannot. Then I won’t see you anymore?”

Hearing this, Zhao Luming instinctively patted herself and ordered the maids to search through the boxes and cabinets in the room.

The palace maids looked awkward.

Being the elder sister was a bit awkward too.

A normal time-travelling woman arriving in a strange world would try to work hard and save money for herself.

But Zhao Luming had neither the chance nor the environment.

She was served by a group of palace maids disguised as young nuns, but the wages were not hers to give, so she had no chance to skim or embezzle to save some money.

She scratched her head, feeling careless.

The two poor little girls sat silently for a while before Ningfu suddenly spoke again.

“Sister, it’s okay. When I marry, Father will give me many good things.”

This sounded a bit off. A palace maid coughed nearby, and the little girl’s face showed regret. She quickly added, innocently:

“I’ll share half with you then.”

Why share with her? Probably because princesses assumed they would marry, but a nun might not.

If she couldn’t marry, she wouldn’t get a dowry from Father—what a loss!

Not such a big loss; the sister nodded calmly, “Alright.”

The little girl’s face brightened. “When you have things in the future, share half with me! That’s fair!”

Zhao Luming looked at her and replied, “Alright.”

Though Ningfu’s young lady had been demoted to commoner, her mind had not gone astray.

Besides making Ningfu come to apologize and cling to her sister, there was another matter, neither too heavy nor too light, to remind Princess Chaozhen: the female officers inciting these princesses to cause trouble were well acquainted with the disciple of Liang Shicheng.

This was a powerful eunuch in the palace, one of the “Six Thieves” hated by the people of Bianjing alongside Li Yan. He was dignified, skilled in literature, and greatly trusted by Emperor Huizong—rumor had it he was even Su Shi’s son! There were tales that Su Shi had given away his pregnant concubines as gifts, eventually producing such a son who dared to complain before the emperor, “What crime did my father commit?” Only then did Su Shi’s works begin to gain popularity.

...Off-topic. In short, this man, along with Li Yan and Tong Guan, monopolized Emperor Huizong’s favor and trust towards eunuchs, somewhat confirming Zhao Luming’s guess.

Those in the palace who seemed friendly always reminded her not to speak carelessly but never mentioned the villain’s name. Whether Madam Wei, Zhao Gou, or Cao Ershiwulang, none dared provoke these two powerful eunuchs—Lady Cui was no longer a concern, having been demoted.

Taking a gamble might turn a bicycle into a motorcycle. Though eunuchs were untoppleable, who knew if stirring up trouble for Princess Chaozhen might bring a surprise?

A new day, still Zishan Hall.

When Princess Chaozhen arrived again, a female officer acting as teacher waited at the door.

She peeked toward the male academy, then turned back.

“Yuwen Zan did not come today,” the female officer smiled, “Princess, you haven’t studied the ‘Internal Training’ yet, have you?”

“I practice the Dao of Longevity, seeking the fruit of ascension,” she said, “Why should I listen to your ‘Internal Training’?”

The officer was not offended, even politely bowing, “In that case, Princess, what would you like to learn today? How about the qin? Or chess?”

The princesses of similar age were supposed to study together, but today there was an eerie calm and harmony. When she suggested changing the curriculum, no one spoke.

Zhao Luming looked at the officer, knowing what she was waiting for.

—“Princess, aren’t you fond of discussing state affairs? Speak up. Say something like ‘Why didn’t Yuwen Zan come?’ or ‘Let’s learn what I heard from him yesterday.’”

The crown prince would not come to school with his sister today.

She turned to little Ningfu, “What would you like to learn today?”

The rise and fall of a dynasty might involve eunuchs but would never be solely decided by them. Even in the Han and Tang dynasties, where eunuchs wielded exaggerated power, they still depended on imperial authority and could not root and grow independently.

Therefore, “scheming against eunuchs” was never on Zhao Luming’s list of “things to remember.” The three emperors of the Jingkang era were all weak; they couldn’t defeat the mentally disabled, so beating up a group of physically disabled eunuchs was pointless.

But today, Zhao Luming began to seriously consider the issue of “dealing with eunuchs.”

It wasn’t that she suddenly grew invincible. Returning to Madam Wei’s palace after class, upon opening the door, the room gleamed with countless glittering golden trinkets, instantly dazzling her eyes.

“Did Father send these?”

Princess Chaozhen’s face was innocent and adorable, her eyes sparkling.

Madam Wei’s expression was complicated, hesitating to speak, but in the end, she concealed her words and smiled, “They were gifts from the Princess of Yun.”

Several powerful eunuchs in the palace were very close to the Princess of Yun.