This was the secluded side corridor leading from the hanging-flower gate of the Duke of Anguo's residence to Ye Jiao's private courtyard. After the doorkeeper had seen off the guest, the path fell into silence.
Ye Jiao smiled faintly, retreating with graceful ease, slipping from Li Ce's grasp. She teased deliberately, "These medicinal herbs truly are fine, and so is Brother Yan. I must help him settle his lifelong affairs by presenting him with the finest lady in all of the capital."
Li Ce's expression darkened instantly. The finest lady in the capital—wasn't that his own beloved Jiao Jiao?
"You dare!"
He grabbed the edge of Ye Jiao's shawl, pulling her into his arms, embracing her tightly from behind. Just as he was about to lower his head to kiss her silky hair, a thunderous cough rang out from behind—deliberate and jarring, as though wrenched from the depths of the lungs.
Li Ce immediately released Ye Jiao and turned around, only to see Ye Changgen approaching, his face flushed.
Li Ce's own cheeks burned red at once.
"Your Highness, Prince Chu." Ye Changgen gave him a nod.
"Brother Ye, just call me Jiu Lang as you always have," Li Ce replied with a sheepish smile, like a thief caught red-handed.
Without ceremony, Ye Changgen said, "My mother wishes to speak with Jiu Lang in the side hall."
"Very well, I'll go now."
Li Ce turned toward the side hall. Ye Jiao started to follow, but Ye Changgen held her back.
"Jiao Jiao, go rest," he said. "Mother didn't summon you."
Clearly, she meant to speak with Li Ce in private.
Ye Jiao cast a quick glance at Li Ce. He smiled and nodded, silently telling her not to worry.
"What are they going to talk about?" she muttered as she watched the two figures—one in blue, the other in black—disappear beyond the gate.
Inside the side hall, Madam Ye sat in the seat of honor, sipping tea. Seeing Li Ce enter, she greeted him kindly.
"Come in and sit. Jiao Jiao was ill, and someone sent purple bamboo tea from Huzhou. This is tribute tea, and we dare not indulge ourselves—but surely offering it to Your Highness is no breach of propriety."
Li Ce seated himself and replied with respectful humility, "There is no imperial edict forbidding the private use of tribute tea. If you like it, Aunt, I shall have some sent to you as well. If you don't mind, please call me Xiao Jiu."
He noticed Ye Changgen hadn't followed him inside, standing instead at the door like a steadfast sentinel, unmoved by the cold wind.
Madam Ye poured the tea with elegance, her downcast eyes soft yet guarded.
"No need to send any," she said solemnly, lifting her gaze. "For over a decade, the Duke of Anguo's household has lived cautiously, barely skirting disaster."
At last, Li Ce understood what she meant to say.
"The injustice suffered by the late Prince Chen…" Li Ce didn't touch the tea. He knelt with upright posture, like a remorseful child, and said earnestly, "My father is now aware of the truth."
He knew the Emperor now understood the prince had not truly rebelled, and that he had been falsely accused and forced by Prince Su. Though what's done could not be undone, the Emperor now trusted the House of Anguo.
A faint smile touched Madam Ye's lips—one as cold and fragile as a peony touched by early frost.
"Your Highness," she said, gathering her sleeves, "thunder and rain alike are heaven's blessings. To encounter demons or Buddhas alike is a form of deliverance. We have never resented fate—for compared to the displaced common folk, to those who sold their daughters to survive the famine, our days have been far too fortunate.
What we feel is fear."
Fear...
Li Ce reached for the teacup, then drew back, his hand suspended in the air. His gaze met Madam Ye's, then quickly shifted away. He knew exactly what she feared—feared it might shut the door on his wish to marry Ye Jiao.
She went on, "The Emperor today is wise beyond compare, and yet Prince Su still forms factions to manipulate the court, and Bai Lixi stirs storms from the shadows. I am but a simple woman, ignorant of statecraft. So tell me, Prince Chu—how do you plan to protect yourself in this maelstrom? Will you preserve your integrity alone?"
To preserve one's integrity is to refine oneself in seclusion, to stay aloof from worldly affairs, to live a life of peace in some distant corner as a prince with idle wealth.
But if he could not protect himself, how could he protect his family?
If Ye Jiao were to marry him, would she not, like her aunt before her, end her days in solitude beside a grave by the Huai River?
If so, it would be better to marry her off to a powerless commoner, and let her live a quiet life, free of calamity.
Li Ce's face turned pale with tension, his chest rising and falling. He felt as though he had returned to the depths of an ancient tomb—if he could not find the way forward, he would die in silence, forgotten by the world.
He didn't know what answer Madam Ye expected. All he could do was speak from the heart.
"I am not one to live only for myself," he said gravely. "The royal house nurtured me, the people sustained me—not to become a cowardly parasite. I dare not fall into despair, nor squander my days in drunken dreams. I shall do all I can to ease my father's burdens and serve the court. Even if my strength is no more than a flickering spark, I will not hide it away. I will not stand idle as the world burns."
That was why he had gone to Mount Li to rescue Ye Jiao. Why he had traveled to Ganzhou to bring relief during the famine.
Madam Ye clenched her sleeves tightly and lifted her gaze. The young man before her was, truth be told, far too handsome—his features almost too exquisite, with a frail beauty that might make one mistake him for nothing more than a delicate vase.
But who would have thought such a man harbored a heart that beat for the nation and its people?
"And then what?" she challenged, though her heart wavered. "Invite envy, hatred, and fear—until one day, it costs you your life?"
Sensing her tone softening, Li Ce exhaled lightly and smiled.
"Aunt," he said solemnly, "I'm not a fool either. During those twenty years guarding the tomb, I dabbled in commerce. Aside from the Ye family, the largest docks and merchant fleets in the capital now belong to me. I also trained a personal guard—they've all entered the capital already. Hidden well. Did you notice?"
He looked like a boy awaiting praise from a parent, drawing a rare smile from Madam Ye. She barely managed to suppress her amusement, adopting a stern face.
"How would I notice, being a mere woman? So, Your Highness, are you saying you're clever enough to protect Jiao Jiao?"
At last, her name was mentioned. Li Ce's heart turned to mush.
"Aunt," he said with a respectful bow, "I will protect her as I would my own heart. But I do not intend to yield, to retreat, or to beg for mercy. I am willing to deceive, to frighten, to flatter, to bide my time in the shadows. Or to draw my sword in broad daylight—if it comes to it, I will stand before her, life or death, and fight."
He drew in a deep breath and implored, "Aunt, please entrust Ye Jiao to me. I may not be a good man, but I truly wish to treat her well. I even want to be good to her family. In truth—I like it here. I like the Duke of Anguo's residence more than any palace or prince's manor."
Madam Ye remained silent—but from outside, Ye Changgen called out.
"Liking it means nothing!" he bellowed.
Li Ce froze.
"You can't marry in!" Ye Changgen added. "I'm still alive!"
So that was it—he feared Li Ce might marry into their family. Li Ce let out a sheepish laugh, still hanging his head, not daring to look at Madam Ye's face.
After a long moment, she reached out and patted his shoulder.
"Xiao Jiu," she finally called him with rare affection, "what do you like to eat? I'll have the kitchen prepare it for dinner."
Li Ce nearly leapt for joy. He was so delighted, he felt as though he might float off the ground.
Madam Ye added, "Jiao Jiao is a lucky girl. Go and tell her—I've given my blessing."
"Yes!"
Li Ce sprang to his feet and hurried off. After several steps, he remembered to turn back and bow again.
Madam Ye's eyes shone as she waved at him.
Ye Changgen, shivering in the cold, finally stepped into the house and took a sip of hot tea.
"Mother," he said with confusion, "why are you crying? That rascal didn't even say—"