Chapter 18

Zhao Mingzhu arrived later than Gu Qingheng this time. As soon as she sat down, she yawned and took a moment to glance at the dishes in front of him. Good—no sweets today.

That meant she could slack off guilt-free. She buried her head in her meal, her hands pale and smooth like congealed fat, though the fine cuts on them were clearly visible.

“I had no idea the Crown Princess was out chopping firewood in the dark for the Eastern Palace. Should I settle your wages?”

Zhao Mingzhu looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

Then she saw his gaze land on her hands. Realization dawned, and she played along smoothly: “Yes, that was me. Chang He owes me fifty taels of silver. Qiao’er, make sure to collect.”

Qiao’er immediately held out her hand to Chang He. “Hand over the silver.” Bold and unapologetic.

Chang He was speechless. He truly couldn’t make sense of this situation anymore. What baffled him even more was Shuang Yun, who came in carrying dishes. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to wait outside the study for instructions?”

Shuang Yun looked at Gu Qingheng. Seeing that he didn’t speak, she gathered her courage and said, “Since Guard Chang He and His Highness are often out on errands, I thought I’d take on more duties inside to help out.”

Chang He: “?” Was she trying to steal his job?

Gu Qingheng had already finished eating. After washing his hands, he turned to Zhao Mingzhu: “Did you master the zither lesson from last time?”

Zhao Mingzhu, chewing on a five-spice tofu bun, shook her head. Not a chance—she hadn’t studied at all.

“Hurry up. If you’re late, you will have to walk to the academy.”

“Why?”

“Well, if even firewood needs to be chopped by the Crown Princess herself, it’s no surprise the Eastern Palace is too poor to afford a carriage.”

Zhao Mingzhu swallowed the last bite of her bun and hurried after him, leaving behind only the trailing echo of her question—why was he being so passive-aggressive?

Once everyone had left, Shuang Yun approached Qiao’er and said, “Elder sister, you serve the Crown Princess daily—surely there’s much to do. If you don’t mind, may I help share the burden?”

Qiao’er shook her head, clutching the silver she’d just wrangled from Chang He, ready to head back to her own quarters. “No need. Once the Crown Princess leaves, we’re basically off-duty.”

Shuang Yun was stunned. Was Zhao Mingzhu really this lax in managing her household?

She deliberately remarked, “Then the Crown Princess must be remarkably open-minded. She spends her days at the academy, yet the Eastern Palace still runs so smoothly. I truly admire her.”

As expected, Qiao’er replied, “Not really. No one knows who’s actually in charge here. Doesn’t matter anyway.”

The Crown Princess had once said, “Three years as housekeeper, and even the cats and dogs will hate you.” It wasn’t a job worth taking.

Shuang Yun now felt certain—there was discord between the Crown Prince and Zhao Mingzhu. Otherwise, why hadn’t he entrusted her with household authority?

She had originally planned to curry favor with Zhao Mingzhu. Now she abandoned that idea.

A Crown Princess with nothing but an empty title—what was the point? It would be better to focus all her efforts on making the Crown Prince see her worth.

…

Zhao Mingzhu and Gu Qingheng stepped down from the carriage, one after the other. She yawned, muttering that too many dreams made for poor sleep.

“Mingzhu!” An Yun had been waiting at the gate for ages. She lifted her skirt and hurried over, then spotted Gu Qingheng behind her and froze.

“Your Highness, good morning.”

“Is there a zither class today? Doesn’t seem like it.”

And why did those two arrive in the same carriage? Could it be… An Yun was thrilled. Zhao Mingzhu might really be something.

After a quiet “Mm,” Gu Qingheng headed off to the neighboring Imperial Academy.

Once he left, An Yun grabbed the sleepy Zhao Mingzhu. “Tsk tsk tsk, those dark circles, that worn-out look—you’ve clearly been enjoying yourself too much.”

Classic case of overindulgence!

Zhao Mingzhu blinked drowsily. “Enjoying what?”

An Yun gave a sly, suggestive grin. “Don’t play dumb. Come on, tell me—size, length, soft or firm, warm or cold.”

Zhao Mingzhu finally caught on to the innuendo and shoved her away, speechless. “There’s nothing going on.”

Nothing?

An Yun was practically ready to take notes. And now she was being told there was nothing?

“It’s been ages—don’t tell me you two still haven’t consummated the marriage?” she asked, incredulous, chasing after Zhao Mingzhu.

Zhao Mingzhu just spread her hands. Nope. Still nothing.

Heavens. An Yun was about to dig deeper, but they arrived at the classroom, so she zipped her lips—for now.

“Thank goodness Su Lu isn’t here today. Just seeing her annoys me.”

Zhao Mingzhu silently agreed. No Su Lu meant no need to stay on high alert.

An Yun sat at the desk in front of her, then turned around and asked, “Did you finish your homework? Want to copy mine?”

Zhao Mingzhu immediately shook her head, took the papers, and began copying. Luckily, she’d arrived early enough to finish before class started.

“Whew, thanks, An-zai.” Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to hand anything in today.

As usual, Zhao Mingzhu slumped over to catch up on sleep. But just as she drifted off, Master Lin appeared, stroking his goat-like beard and knocking on her desk. He had once taught the retired emperor, the current emperor, and even Gu Qingheng. His seniority was unquestionable—a retired scholar brought back by special appointment. He despised students who didn’t take learning seriously, who spent their days playing with cats and dogs, idling about. Naturally, Zhao Mingzhu was one of his prime targets.

“Zhao Mingzhu, have you turned in your homework?”

“Yes, Master. It’s right here—I forgot to hand it in.” She’d come prepared, handing it over before sitting down. Her attitude today was unusually good, so Master Lin said nothing and began reading her work. But the more he read, the darker his expression grew. By the end, his beard was practically bristling with rage.

“Rotten wood! Rotten wood!”

Zhao Mingzhu’s sleepiness vanished instantly. Master Lin’s face was thunderous as he barked, “There is a square pond one zhang wide. A reed grows at its center, rising one chi above the water. If the reed is pulled toward the shore, it just reaches the edge. What is the depth of the water and the length of the reed?”

“Zhao Mingzhu, you answered the water depth as two chi and the reed length as four hundred and thirty chi!”

Master Lin roared, “A reed four hundred and thirty chi long? What is it—a spirit beast?”

Zhao Mingzhu: “…”

She tried to salvage the situation, but Master Lin flung her homework back at her. “Go stand outside and reflect. If you can’t solve it today, you’re not going home.”

Zhao Mingzhu had no choice but to take her assignment and head out. As she passed An Yun, she saw her wearing an innocent expression.

Zhao Mingzhu raised her middle finger: I’ll be back.

Outside, she began calculating. A shadow loomed overhead, and she looked up. “Princess.”

Gu Yu saw her and asked, “Why are you squatting here?”

“My homework was wrong. Scared the teacher half to death.”

Zhao Mingzhu weakly waved the math sheet in her hand. Gu Yu took it and burst out laughing. “You copied An Yun again, didn’t you? Second-to-last copying dead last—bold move.”

Zhao Mingzhu was utterly defeated. How was she supposed to know An Yun’s math was that bad? She hadn’t even checked when copying.

Just as Gu Yu finished speaking, An Yun came out. Seeing Zhao Mingzhu so downcast, she sighed: “I worked on it all night… and still got it wrong.”

Zhao Mingzhu: “…”

So she’s just dumb—poor thing.

After Gu Yu went back inside, Zhao Mingzhu sighed and continued calculating. Moments later, Gu Yu came back out.

She blinked. “You too?”

Gu Yu calmly tossed her blank homework on the ground and sat on it. “Didn’t write it. Also late. Double the crime.”

Zhao Mingzhu: “…” She quickly did the math, double-checked her answer, and filled it in.

“An-zai, write this answer down. Guaranteed correct.”

Gu Yu twirled her pen and sneered, “An Yun, do you trust her math, or do you trust that I’m heir to the throne?”

An Yun wavered. She wanted to trust Gu Yu. “I trust Mingzhu.”

Gu Yu’s pen slowed, and she watched as An Yun, like a martyr marching to her fate, wrote down the answer.