Chapter 22 Undercurrent

Eighth Prince stood frozen in place, his eyes suddenly widening. The hidden disappointment vanished in an instant, replaced by an indescribably complex expression in the blink of an eye.

Brave Eighth Uncle, fear no hardship…

Faced with Emperor Father and Eldest Brother, being assigned to Confiscating Homes alongside Fourth Brother—by all logic, Yinsi should have firmly refused or at least felt apprehensive. This was throwing him into the fire. Given his ties to Eldest Brother, much like how Fourth Prince followed the Crown Prince, backing out now would invite scorn.

Long ago, Yinsi had clearly understood that he and Fourth Brother were fundamentally different. Fourth Brother was far luckier than him.

Setting aside lineage and other factors, Yinzhen could follow the Crown Prince without fear of overstepping, without needing to flatter or suppress his personality. The Crown Prince, as heir apparent, never sought to suppress his younger brothers. Take debt collection, for example—they discussed matters as equals, as brothers rather than ruler and subject.

When he heard the Crown Prince personally visited Honghui during his mild fever, Yinsi couldn’t help but envy him. The Crown Prince, born the heir and most favored by the Emperor, behaving so magnanimously—wasn’t that all the more remarkable?

Fourth Brother could devote himself wholeheartedly, but Yinsi couldn’t—and didn’t dare. His mother hadn’t yet lived comfortably, and serving under Eldest Brother required utmost caution, always toeing the line. Yet as time passed, his chance to stand out slipped further away, leaving him unable to ever take the lead.

Was this title of Beile destined to remain nothing but an empty honor?

Learning that Eldest Brother hadn’t even considered him for the confiscation assignment left Yinsi disheartened. But now, with this sudden turn of events, his heart pounded with an unprecedented longing—even a rebellious thought: he wanted to achieve merit, even if it meant working with Fourth Brother and enduring Eldest Brother’s reprimands!

Eighth Prince closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. Beside him, Da Age’s face turned green.

That brat Hong Yan, putting on such an innocent act while subtly mocking him. What did he mean by “loosening the soil of the mind” or “being carefree”?

It clearly wasn’t praise, and now he wanted Eighth Prince to team up with Fourth Prince? This was an attempt to dismantle their faction from the roots! How could Yin Zhi maintain any authority like this?

What a vicious scheme, what ruthless tactics! That brat had no respect for elders—typical of Yinreng’s spawn. Da Age’s face cycled from green to purple, his teeth clenched in fury, but beneath it all, panic crept in. The suggestion was flawless—would the Emperor actually agree?

He reassured himself: No, surely not. Hong Yan might be favored, but the Emperor wouldn’t treat this lightly…

“Yuanbao makes a fair point,” the Emperor said, fully aware of Hong Yan’s intentions. As an ally, he naturally had to help Fourth Uncle out of this predicament. But his disappointment in his eldest son ran deep, and he intended this as a warning. He continued slowly, following Hong Yan’s lead, “The secret reports and roster will be overseen by the Crown Prince, with Fourth Prince and Eighth Prince handling the confiscation discreetly. To avoid alerting suspects, the operation must be swift, decisive, and precise. Secure evidence before sentencing—no innocents shall be wronged.”

The Crown Prince exhaled in relief, shooting his son a sidelong glance, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile.

He’s grown up—learning to poach allies now. Well done.

Fourth Prince responded solemnly, finally freed from his earlier embarrassment, though his emotions churned beneath the surface—gratitude mixed with lingering dread, silently cursing “Li Wenbi” in his heart.

Eighth Prince was stunned, barely containing his excitement as he hurriedly expressed his gratitude. Only Da Age remained, his jaw clenched, his face ashen. “Emperor Father…”

“Since you’re shirking responsibility, then let Yinsi handle it.” With Hong Yan present, the Emperor finally restrained his temper, his expression softening as he soothed, “After all, working as a team, I won’t forget your contributions. You may withdraw.”

The words sounded reasonable, but why did they carry such a sarcastic tone?

The Crown Prince’s shoulders trembled slightly, while Da Age could only stiffen his face, forcing out a smile through gritted teeth. “Yes, yes. Your son takes his leave.”

The confiscation couldn’t be delayed—the sooner, the better. After Da Age left in dismay, Hong Yan seemed to have forgotten about the plaque incident and boldly stepped forward to fawn, saying he wanted to join his uncles to broaden his horizons. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep well—would Hanmafa please allow it?

The Emperor shot him a sidelong glance. Not eat or sleep well?  

Weren’t you crafting plaques with effortless ease, living quite comfortably every day? Such a smooth talker. He had finally seen through his clever grandson’s true nature. Would he someday become bosom friends with the Eighth Prince, forging some unconventional uncle-nephew bond?  

Though resentful, the Emperor could do nothing about Hong Yan. Unable to resist those moist, auspicious phoenix eyes, he relented before even feigning anger, repeatedly saying, “Fine, fine, fine,” leaving the Eighth Prince utterly dumbfounded.  

Was this really the same imperial father he both revered and feared?  

The Crown Prince watched with a smile, though his grin soon froze as he suddenly recalled the inscriptions—”Minister of the State,” “Heroic Demeanor,” and the like—instantly feeling a pang of guilt.  

Yinzhen felt the same. He slowly lowered his head, his toes fidgeting uneasily, unaware of the sympathetic gaze Li Dequan cast his way—  

Poor sirs.  

But fear not—once you endure this ordeal, your faces will be tempered into steel, unflinching even if Mount Tai crumbles!  

—  

Yanxi Palace.  

Da Age had been too busy with duties lately to pay his respects often, so Consort Hui was overjoyed to see her son that morning.  

Her joy was short-lived, however, as she soon received such devastating news. Consort Hui snapped her fingernail guard in half, her chest heaving with rage. After a long pause, she pointed at him and spat, “Fool!”  

“Why provoke the Fourth Prince with Li Wenbi? If you had entrusted this to Yinsi from the start, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Her fingers trembled as she spoke, her fury unbearable. “And to be outmaneuvered by a five-year-old child! If your uncle finds out, how furious he’ll be—all his efforts wasted!”  

She had never demanded Yin Zhi take the lead, but she never expected him to not only fail but also suffer such humiliation. If those gossipy consorts got wind of this, she’d be mocked for months—how could Yanxi Palace retain any dignity?  

Yin Zhi hung his head, muttering after a long silence, “Mother, the fault is entirely mine. But Emperor Father dotes on Hong Yan—there was nothing I could do.”  

Could he blame the Eighth Prince? No.  

The blame lay with the Emperor’s unconditional indulgence of Hong Yan. After all, it was that little brat’s sharp tongue and threats that forced the Eighth Prince into enemy territory. If anything, he owed his brother an apology.  

Consort Hui understood this all too well. She exhaled deeply and murmured, “Let me think, let me think.”  

For some reason, that child always targeted Yin Zhi and Mingzhu. With him blocking their path, how could they ever succeed?  

Hong Yan must have been acting on the Crown Prince’s orders… At this thought, Consort Hui’s eyes turned icy. That father-son pair had gone too far—did they think she had spent all these years in the palace for nothing?  

—  

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince directed operations while the Fourth and Eighth Princes acted swiftly. Seizing the opportunity while court officials were on duty, they decisively led their men to begin confiscations.  

Every name on the list was accounted for—none escaped. And with Hong Yan’s uncanny human detection skills, the mission proceeded with unprecedented secrecy and efficiency.

The Fourth Prince knew this was Yuanbao’s innate talent, but the Eighth Prince was so shocked he was rendered speechless, eventually turning numb. Mechanically, he followed Hong Yan’s directions, striking wherever pointed, and the uncle-nephew pair actually cooperated quite seamlessly.  

Hong Yan finally became familiar with his Eighth Uncle and discovered his strengths. Yinsi was mature beyond his seventeen years, understanding and exceptionally adaptable. If Yinzhen was now a sharp blade, Yinsi was a smooth piece of jade—when he wished, he could make you feel as if bathed in spring breeze, comfortable in both body and mind.  

Wasn’t this the perfect candidate for debt collection?  

Hong Yan’s eyes gradually brightened.  

This was the first time the Eighth Prince had spent time with them, and he was somewhat reserved and uneasy at first. Soon, however, his discomfort vanished without a trace, replaced by deep numbness.  

Was this the secret to earning Emperor Father’s praise?  

As numbness settled into habit, only one thing puzzled him deeply.  

Fourth Brother’s gaze had initially held some wariness toward him, which he completely understood. But in the end, after merely asking Fourth Brother, “Why is my nephew so remarkable?” that gaze had carried a faint hint of pride. Why was that?  

The repercussions of the secret raid had yet to unfold, and the East Palace remained peaceful.  

As the sun set, several palace maids bustled about in the side chamber of the small courtyard. The imperial eldest grandson was still young, attended only by Momos and eunuchs, but when it came to clothing—such as presenting garments or mending patterns—it fell to the younger second-rank maids to handle.  

“The Young Master’s scented sachet is worn out. These are the new accessories sent by the Imperial Household Department—check them for any oversights,” the head Momo instructed as she set down the tray. “The Crown Princess has ordered that the red fish-patterned one be changed tomorrow. Qinyu, the task is yours.”  

Qinyu, a girl of seventeen or eighteen with delicate features, responded steadily.  

She was a veteran of the East Palace, the most senior and composed among the maids in the side chamber. The Momo usually entrusted her with important tasks as a form of mentorship and trust.  

Each maid received her assignment, and they worked diligently without disturbing one another.  

Once the head Momo finished her instructions and hurried out, Qinyu sat with her back to her companions, meticulously inspecting the sachet’s craftsmanship. Then, after a quick glance around, her expression unchanged, she swiftly drew a packet of red powder from her robe.  

The powder matched the sachet’s color, making it indistinguishable to the naked eye. With steady, even hands, Qinyu mixed the powder into the sachet’s inner lining, kneading it until a faint fragrance dispersed, leaving no trace behind.  

Before long, Qinyu tied the sachet shut, masking the dark glint in her eyes.  

Suddenly, a childish voice piped up from behind her: “What are you doing?”