A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City Chapter 80

The sky was still dark when Jiuzhu and Prince Chen boarded a carriage laden with gift boxes and left the palace gates.

In the morning mist, many breakfast stalls had already been set up, catering to scholars rushing to school and minor officials sitting by the roadside, devouring their als. So had beco regulars, exchanging light banter with the vendors, the aroma of stead buns wafting far and wide.

Prince Chen and Jiuzhu rubbed their stomachs—they had skipped breakfast to leave early.

"Your Highness, should we eat before heading ho?" Jiuzhu lifted the carriage curtain, her eyes lingering on the plump, white buns.

"No need. I’m not hungry yet. We can eat after eting your parents," Prince Chen swallowed hard. Most street food was heavily seasoned, and he couldn’t risk appearing improper before Jiuzhu’s family, even if he was starving. "I’ll have Yang Yiduo fetch you so snacks."

"Your Highness," Jiuzhu studied Prince Chen closely. "Are you… nervous?"

"Nervous?" Prince Chen straightened his back. "Ridiculous. Why would I be nervous? Do I seem like the type to get nervous?"

"Lord Ming!"

Soone outside the carriage called out, and Prince Chen imdiately stuck his head out. The man addressed as Lord Ming turned out to be a minor seventh-rank official. Realizing it wasn’t Jiuzhu’s family, Prince Chen quickly withdrew.

The two officials exchanging greetings were startled when a head suddenly popped out of the luxurious carriage window. Watching it disappear just as swiftly, they exchanged bewildered glances.

"That head… looked sowhat familiar," the higher-ranking official muttered.

Lord Ming was even more confused. "Isn’t that the carriage reserved for the imperial family?"

As they stood perplexed, a group of lavishly dressed young nobles rode past on majestic horses, followed by a long procession of servants carrying loads tied with red silk.

"Is this a betrothal procession for so noble family?"

"Not a betrothal. These imperial descendants have pooled their own money to buy stationery, rare books, and manuscripts for Hongwen Academy."

"Our young master said he’s never been good at studying, but he deeply respects scholars. Hongwen Academy was founded by His Majesty to nurture talent from all corners of the realm. As a mber of the imperial family, he naturally supports His Majesty’s vision."

"What a coincidence—my master said the sa. To find these rare texts, he sent people scouring nearby provinces."

"Education is invaluable. It broadens minds and benefits the nation. Our master even commissioned new seasonal robes for every impoverished scholar at the academy."

Many officials on their way to the Six Ministries overheard the commotion and were baffled.

"If I recall correctly, those n are the infamous imperial wastrels?"

The ones still idling in the capital were the least capable and ambitious branches of the Yun clan—those with any talent or daring had been purged during the power struggles at the end of the Xiande era.

"You’re not wrong. They’re the sa lot who used to trail behind Prince Chen, betting on cricket fights."

"No wonder the book I wanted was sold out—they bought them all."

If even these imperial idlers were donating to Hongwen Academy, it was clear how much the Emperor valued the institution.

As the imperial wastrels marched toward Hongwen Academy with gongs and drums, tensions flared at its gates between a minor imperial relative and a group of impoverished scholars.

The conflict began when a scholar accidentally stepped on the imperial relative’s shoe. Despite repeated apologies, the man demanded the scholar lick his shoe clean or face arrest.

Under Da Cheng law, scholars convicted of cris were barred from imperial exams for a decade.

"Kneel and lick my shoe now! You have the ti it takes for one incense stick to burn—or else—"

"Or else nothing!" A kick sent the man sprawling. "Who do you think you are, spouting nonsense at the gates of His Majesty’s Hongwen Academy?"

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍assailant, Yun Qirong, straightened his robes and bowed. "My apologies for the spectacle. I am Yun Qirong, forr study companion to Prince Chen and current imperial guard. Today, I’ve co to donate rare books to the academy."

"Who dares—"

Yun Qirong silenced the man by stepping on his head. "Pay no mind to this so-called imperial relative—his connection to the royal family is thinner than thread. Leave him to us."

The scholars, trembling with anger, stared in stunned silence at the scene, then at the procession of servants carrying gifts.

"Co, let’s discuss this inside." Yun Qirong released the man and slung an arm around the harassed scholar. "My brothers and I were moved to tears hearing Prince Chen speak of your diligence. Sadly, we lack the wit for study, so we brought these gifts instead."

"Would you disdain us for our lack of learning?" Yun Qirong sighed dramatically. "Alas, we squandered our youth and now can only admire your erudition."

Flustered by the praise, the scholars hastily assured them they were welco, consoling the "heartbroken" nobles over their wasted potential.

"You ntioned Prince Chen earlier?"

"Indeed," Yun Qirong nodded. "Without his guidance, how would us despised wastrels know of your scholarly dedication?"

"Gentlen with such passion for learning could never be wastrels."

"Ah, it’s a long story." Yun Qirong wore a pained expression. "We’re just glad you’ll accept these humble offerings."

The scholars’ innocent hearts wavered. If Prince Chen was so noble, and his friends so generous, how could anyone call them wastrels?

That they feared rejection even after gifting rare books proved how deeply misunderstood they were.

This had to be a vile conspiracy against Prince Chen!

When Jiuzhu and Prince Chen stepped through the Ming family gates, every mber turned their fervent gazes upon them.

"Your son-in-law pays respects to Father and Mother Ming," Prince Chen steeled himself and bowed like any common groom.

"And to Uncle, and my esteed brothers-in-law."

"Greetings, Your Highness." The Ming family had not expected Prince Chen to bring their daughter back so early in the morning. Though overjoyed, they retained their composure: "Greetings to the Princess Consort..."

"Father, Mother." Jiuzhu hurried forward and took their hands, preventing them from bowing. "No matter the formalities outside, here at ho, we are family. Those external rules should not apply here."

"Jiuzhu is right. Etiquette is for outsiders," Prince Chen chid in shalessly. "There are no outsiders here—why stand on ceremony?"

"Third Brother, His Highness speaks sense," Ming Jinghai was the first to agree. "Let us gather as a family and continue inside."

"Mother, have you eaten breakfast yet?"

"Not yet..."

"Then let’s eat together!" Jiuzhu plopped onto a stool. "His Highness and I skipped breakfast to hurry ho. I’m practically starving."

Shen Ying gazed at her daughter, who was acting spoiled, and for a mont, she felt as though Jiuzhu had never married—as if she had rely been away for a couple of days before returning to her side.

"Very well, I’ll have the servants bring breakfast at once." Shen Ying snapped out of her daze, her delight plain for all to see.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for bringing Jiuzhu ho." Ming Jingzhou understood well how difficult it must have been for Prince Chen, who resided in the palace, to arrange this visit.

"You flatter , Father-in-law. Jiuzhu’s ho is my ho..." Prince Chen nearly bit his tongue. "What I an is, Jiuzhu’s family is my family. Returning here with her is only natural. If you thank , it would make feel like an outsider."

Damn it, Yun Duqing, where was your brain just now?

What 'ho'? You’re a grown man—what 'ho' are you talking about?

Ming Jingzhou pretended not to notice the prince’s slip of the tongue. He studied Prince Chen’s expression, as if weighing the sincerity behind his words. After a pause, he smiled. "Since Your Highness does not disdain us, the Ming family shall henceforth be your second ho."

With that, he retrieved a red envelope from his sleeve—its contents unknown, though his hand trembled slightly as he held it out.

"By folk custom, when a son-in-law visits his wife’s family for the first ti after marriage, the elders present him with a gift." Ming Jingzhou placed the envelope in Prince Chen’s hand. "Our family is humble—please do not think it too ager."

"With Father-in-law’s kindness, even a single copper coin would be precious to ." Prince Chen tucked the envelope into his sleeve with satisfaction.

His father-in-law gave him a red envelope—that ant he approved of him as a son-in-law.

If Father-in-law was pleased, then Ming Jiuzhu would be happy, and there’d be no marital strife over her family. Perfect.

"Ahem." Ming Jinghai directly handed Prince Chen a pouch. "We hadn’t expected Your Highness to visit, so I ca unprepared. Please accept this instead of a proper red envelope."

Ming Jiyuan also presented a red envelope, his gaze noticeably warr toward the prince.

Ming Cunfu hesitated, then unclasped his already light purse from his belt.

As her cousin, he couldn’t embarrass his sister at a ti like this.

If it was tradition to gift the newlyweds, then so be it—he’d give!

Seeing the elders shower Prince Chen with gifts, Jiuzhu leaned in and stretched out her hand. "Where’s mine?"

"His Highness’s marriage to you ans our family has gained half a son," Ming Jingzhou turned away from her outstretched palm. "You’ve always been our daughter—there’s no custom of giving you a red envelope."

"Oh." Jiuzhu’s hand dropped.

No wonder they say in the capital: "Only the newcor is smiled upon; none hear the old-tir weep."

Prince Chen whispered in her ear, "Don’t worry—what’s mine is yours. Later, we’ll split it fifty-fifty."

"But if Father gave one too, we’d have two shares," Jiuzhu whispered back. "Your Highness, your salary suspension hasn’t been lifted yet."

Ming Jingzhou’s ear twitched. Ming Jinghai shifted in his seat.

The Ming family was born with sharp ears and keen eyes—they caught whispers all too easily.

"Jiuzhu," Ming Jiyuan couldn’t help interjecting, "you..."

Jiuzhu looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

Staring into his little sister’s pleading gaze, Ming Jiyuan swallowed the rest of his words.

"Here, take it." He pulled another red envelope from his sleeve.

Go on, take your poor elder brother’s money and feed your prince with it.