The Da Gongzhu under the Guifei’s knee—Shen Yi’an knew a thing or two about her as well.

Emperor Jiawen had a total of six sons and two daughters. The eldest, Li Xun, born of the Empress, was named Crown Prince. The second son, Li Zhen, born of Shufei, was implicated along with Shufei and the Regent King; thirteen years ago, he was deposed and reduced to a commoner, confined to the secluded Anyin Temple on Pingshan outside the capital. The third son, born of Ningpin, died in infancy at the hands of Shufei before he could even receive a proper name.

After the Empress passed away, Emperor Jiawen stayed away from the inner palace for a long time. It wasn’t until six years ago that he selected a new batch of court ladies from among the common folk, gradually giving rise to a few more imperial sons and daughters.

But the Da Gongzhu was an exception.

When the Guifei entered the palace, she wasn’t summoned by the emperor for two whole years. She was only ordered to raise the Crown Prince, though her allowance and rank were top-tier—even receiving half the ceremonial guard granted to an empress. Yet after the Mid-Autumn Festival in the third year, she unexpectedly became pregnant.

The very next day after the taiyi confirmed the pregnancy, Emperor Jiawen demoted her from Guifei to Xianfei. Instead of rewards, she was penalized. This set off a whirlwind of gossip in both the court and the harem. Even An Guogong submitted a memorial pleading for punishment. It wasn’t until she gave birth to the Da Gongzhu that her rank as Guifei was reinstated, along with many gifts—but she was relocated to the remote Yuqing Palace.

Everyone could see it clearly then—this was a child the emperor hadn’t wanted. But since she was a girl and posed no threat to the Crown Prince, he let it be. Even the Empress’s own younger sister had been treated like this. Naturally, some noble families gave up the idea of sending their daughters into the palace.

Afterward, Emperor Jiawen did show some fondness for the Da Gongzhu, though he still never summoned the Guifei.

As the princess grew older, she appeared slower than her peers—she didn’t speak until she was four or five. Now ten, she had just started school and was clearly more “innocent” than other children her age.

Perhaps because she was the Guifei’s only biological child, the Guifei loved her dearly despite her flaws. Even the Crown Prince doted on this younger sister.

Shen Yi’an’s thoughts immediately spun to life: “The Da Gongzhu is only ten this year, and Chun’er is thirteen. Their ages are pretty close, they could get along really well…” Before he could finish speaking, he saw Zhou Mama’s face already turning cold. He awkwardly lowered his head and shut up.

“You better stop that line of thinking. If you ask me, only Dage has a sliver of hope. Even Qiao Jie’er might not make it, not to mention the children born of Liu Shi,” Zhou Mama said sharply. She actually liked Shen Qiao more—after all, Mei Yiniang had been her maid since youth, and they shared some affection. But His Majesty’s favoritism toward the legitimate and suppression of the illegitimate was so blatant, trying to push Qiao Jie’er or Liu Shi’s kids forward was practically a provocation. “Didn’t you just tell me yourself that His Majesty rejected the memorial to grant Chun Ge’er a title? Same thing!”

She had no patience for Shen Yi’an’s current attitude. Was Liu Shi reincarnated from a fox spirit or what, completely bewitching him? “You just focus on working for Dage’s sake. Don’t even think about the Crown Prince’s ce fei—just aim for a marriage with a family close in status. Dage’s mother left behind a generous dowry. Even if the match is a bit lower, as long as the husband is decent, the days will be fine. He’s already too old—he can’t afford to wait anymore.”

Shen Yi’an, although a bit disappointed by her words, still agreed. It was a pity he couldn’t plan for Shen Chun, but… if he could marry off his eldest son soon, he’d be happy too. He was already starting to lose patience with Li Xun…

At the same time, Li Xun was also thinking about the Guifei. Outsiders always see things more clearly. Shen Tang’s words—he had listened. But hearing and accepting were two different matters.

“Gongzi, we’ve arrived,” Zhan Er gently lifted the carriage curtain. Ever since Xiao Die mentioned something about the Guifei, Gongzi’s face had gone dark. Zhan Er had served him for years and had never seen him like this—her heart couldn’t help but tighten.

Compared to the West Market, the East Market was equally lively but clearly several notches more refined. Passersby dressed far more elegantly. The East Market was home to the highest nobility—junwang manors, princess residences, guogong mansions… imperial kin and powerful clans everywhere. Fuchang Bo’s mansion had only two shops in the East Market, but they were the main sources of the family’s income.

Li Xun was preoccupied and got off the carriage with a frosty expression, entering a restaurant to sit for a while. But from the second floor, a noble young master happened to glance down and saw him clearly.

These days, Shen Tang had been feeding Li Xun well, and his cheeks had filled out a bit. Fuchang Bo’s eldest young master had always been handsome, but now, with better complexion, he stood out even more. Without any powdered makeup, he still had an alluring charm. He wore a light blue feathered cloak embroidered with silver threads and a single pearl-inlaid gold hairpin in his clean hair. His cold expression only made him seem more untouchable.

The young master upstairs couldn’t look away. But being noble himself, he naturally wouldn’t behave like a thug and approach him carelessly. He also noticed Li Xun’s carriage—red wheels, ornate canopy, four corners adorned with beaded tassels—plus a group of seven or eight maidservants and more than a dozen attendants. Clearly, this wasn’t someone from an ordinary family.

Yet he couldn’t recall ever seeing such a person in the capital, so he asked his companion, “Hey, which family is that young master from?”

The companion studied him for a bit, his expression a little strange. “No wonder you don’t recognize him. That’s the eldest young master of Fuchang Bo’s mansion. He hasn’t left the house in years.” Coincidentally, this companion’s younger brother had once discussed marriage with Li Xun, and their families had met a few times. Though Li Xun had grown a lot since then, the face was still recognizable.

The two were none other than Cui Yanshu, the eldest son of Zhen’nan Bo, and Zheng Zhonghong, the grandson of An Guogong. The old An Guogong had passed away, and the current holder of the title was the father of both the Empress and the Guifei. Zheng Zhonghong was the son of their elder brother.

“It’s him!” Zheng Zhonghong was amazed. He only knew that Fuchang Bo was infamous for his debauchery, but he hadn’t expected his son to be so stunning. Feeling regretful, he sighed—if only this boy were a merchant’s son, he’d try to make him a concubine somehow. But as Fuchang Bo’s son, even if his father was a mess, it couldn’t be done.

Still, that face stayed in his mind. Even while drinking, he was in a sour mood, half-drunk after just a few cups. No longer in the mood for fun, he planned to go home and vent on his wives and concubines.

But as he was leaving, he saw two yanei arguing and shoving, accidentally knocking over a screen in the corner. Glancing over, he saw that stunning young master frowning, eyes icy as he looked at the toppled screen and the scuffling pair.

The East Market being a class above, naturally brought different news as well. Most who came out to drink at noon were idle rich kids, not officials. Gossip was common, and someone mentioned:

“The Crown Prince is still unconscious, and even the best taiyi are helpless. Those so-called mystics from Jingzhao Yin’s office were useless too—none of their rituals worked.”

A loose-tongued one chimed in, “His Majesty put in so much effort to secure the Crown Prince’s position… really, man proposes, heaven disposes.”

“What heaven? That’s the work of remnants of the Regent King,” said another.

“But the Regent King’s been dead thirteen years. His Majesty’s purged them so many times already—who’s left that powerful?”

“Could be someone just pretending to be one of the Regent King’s people. He’s dead—no way to verify now.”

“Peh, don’t call him Regent King. He’s a traitor!”

More people joined in, some sighing, “His Majesty was too biased toward the Crown Prince. That’s fine and all, but how could he avoid the harem for years? Even commoners want more heirs…”

Everyone fell silent—because they all knew this was true, but couldn’t openly criticize the emperor.

This was ancient times. Infant mortality was high, and even teenagers could die from a single illness. That’s why families wanted many kids—to ensure at least a few lived on.

Now, if the Crown Prince died, the emperor would be in a tough spot. The other princes weren’t even six years old. After what happened with the Regent King, everyone knew how risky it was for a child emperor to ascend.

Someone murmured, “Then the sixth prince, born of the Guifei, probably has the best chance.” After all, the other concubines came from commoner backgrounds—a bricklayer, a local constable. How could they compare to the Guifei’s backing?

Still, someone pointed out, “But the Da Gongzhu already has… issues. What if the sixth prince shows the same as he grows up?”

Everyone could only hope the emperor lived a long life and produced more sons.

Behind the screen, Li Xun was so angry he almost crushed his cup. He wanted to drag these gossipy fools out and cane them.

Then someone loudly rebuked the others: “You dare talk about the imperial succession? Are you tired of living? I believe the Crown Prince is blessed and will recover!”

Everyone rolled their eyes silently—flatterer—but no one dared refute him out loud. That man continued, “His Majesty just issued a new decree: whoever can wake the Crown Prince, regardless of their status, will be made Guoshi, Shaoshi, granted a marquis title, and a thousand gold!”

That was new. No one had heard that before.

Even Shen Tang, who had been quietly meditating by the window, perked up his ears.

A marquis? That’s higher than Fuchang Bo! Shen Tang’s spirit surged.

He had some theories about the Crown Prince’s condition. It could be a soul curse, either truly cast by the executed witch or faked by someone else using a similar method. Either way, if he could use Soul-Seeking Talismans to locate the prince’s soul and Soul-Summoning Talismans to bring it back, he might be able to wake him.

But… spiritual energy here was thin, and his current body was weak. His talismans might not even fly two meters before failing.

Still, this was too big an opportunity.

Even if he never got his original body back, becoming nobility meant he wouldn’t have to serve others anymore.

He shot a venomous glare at Li Xun. Stupid wild ghost, turning on me just like that. We even slept together twice! My wrist still hurts!

He didn’t like being treated this casually at all.

Tonight, Shen Tang decided, he wasn’t going to serve that guy anymore. He was going to train hard. Even if he couldn’t wake the prince just yet, he’d prove his worth and make the emperor supply him with resources.

While Shen Tang was scheming, two yanei entered, arguing about who should walk through the door first.

These two were the nephew of Rong Guiren and the younger brother of Shun Guiren. Both had given birth to princes, and Rong Guiren was more favored. But Shun Guiren’s brother insisted on being the elder and refused to yield, so they fought.

Shun Guiren’s brother, trained in martial arts, pushed hard and sent Rong Guiren’s nephew flying—right into the screen near Li Xun.

Shen Tang quietly moved aside, not caring at all about Li Xun behind the screen. He did notice Li Xun’s face getting darker though.

Zheng Zhonghong, coming downstairs, saw the scene and approached. The two young men immediately shut up.

But Zheng Zhonghong couldn’t care less about those two. Half-drunk, he stared straight at Li Xun, eyes gleaming.

Li Xun: ?

What’s wrong with this cousin?

They were blood relatives, but Li Xun had never liked Zheng Zhonghong’s frivolous attitude. He interacted more with his older cousin, Zheng Boyi.

Just then, Cui Yanshu also came down and, seeing Li Xun, looked a bit embarrassed. He quickly helped escort Zheng Zhonghong out, muttering apologies.

Li Xun didn’t care. Or maybe he wasn’t yet aware of his status as a ge’er and was used to his cousin’s antics. He just gave Zheng Zhonghong a cold glance.

That glance made Zheng Zhonghong feel tingles all over. He couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing.

After all, everyone knew Fuchang Bo was a mess. His son’s marriage prospects were bleak. But An Guogong’s household had someone just right.

His third uncle’s only shuzi was frail, barely expected to live past eighteen. Many nobles wanted to engage their children to him—not marry. Why? Because when he died, they could claim their child’s fate was so noble it “overwhelmed” him, boosting their status.

But An Guogong didn’t want his child to be used that way. They already had a Guifei in the palace. Why help others gain leverage?

So they said this boy needed to marry fast to “leave behind descendants.”

Engagements were in demand, marriages were avoided—no one wanted their kid to be a widow so young. Thus they looked for lower matches.

Now, Zheng Zhonghong thought Li Xun would be perfect. A bo’s son marrying into a guogong family—still a social climb for them. Fuchang Bo didn’t care about Li Xun anyway.

Once married, if his cousin died, he could ask Grandfather to let him adopt the widow and take over both lines. Even if the cousin didn’t die soon, a sickly beauty could be quite… fun. He leaned on Cui Yanshu and chuckled lewdly.

Cui Yanshu: ?

“Can you not be gross in broad daylight?” he said, pushing him away.

“Hehe, just in a good mood. Let’s go to Yuxiang Tower and see what kind of ge’er or jie’er made Fuchang Bo so obsessed.”

Thinking of Li Xun’s gaze earlier, he almost melted again. “Who would’ve thought the bo’s son looked like that? Think your fourth brother regrets missing out?”

Cui Yanshu gave him a look. “If he regrets anything, it’s missing that huge dowry.”

Their family had lots of heirs and needed rich wives to secure inheritance. That’s why Zhen’nan Bo had agreed to the match.

Still, their family had some morals. Cui Yanshu refused. “You go alone. With all the maids and servants at home, why go to such a sleazy place and risk catching something?”

Zheng Zhonghong found him boring. “What’s fun about home? All wooden dolls trained by nannies. Nothing like the freshness outside.” He licked his lips, still thinking about Li Xun. A rich dowry too? All the more reason to convince Dad and Grandpa.

Li Xun didn’t return to the mansion until evening. That night, Shen Tang refused to take the night shift.

But he had already taken two in a row, so it was Zhu Er’s turn. Xiao Wan, still jealous, volunteered to sleep on the heated bench outside.

Shen Tang was happy to have the room to himself. He ran his energy through two cycles, gathered qi, then took out a delicate sachet. Flipping it inside out, he used cinnabar to draw a spatial array.

He planned to offer magical tools to the emperor to earn trust before he could cure the Crown Prince.

Drawing the array was tedious and required channeling qi through his brush. After half a day, his forehead was drenched in sweat.

As soon as the array was complete, it glowed faintly gold and dried instantly. Flipping the sachet back, it now contained a half-cubic-meter space.

Delighted, he stuffed a pillow inside. About an hour later, it popped back out—the space had collapsed.

His current strength only let the array last one hour.

Unbothered, Shen Tang resumed his meditation and spent the whole night that way.

The next morning, Xiao Wan came to wake him, but Shen Tang claimed he was unwell and wouldn’t come out.

Xiao Wan hesitated—he’d been rejected from sleeping inside, and now even Xiao Die wasn’t around. Gongzi had looked at the door several times sadly.

Now even Xiao Die wouldn’t come serve during the day. Gongzi’s mood must be terrible.

Sigh, Xiao Wan sighed again. Wuwu, I’m no longer the favorite.

Still, Shen Tang looked utterly exhausted—like he’d plowed two acres overnight—so Xiao Wan agreed to deliver his meals.

For the next four days, Shen Tang just cultivated, slept, and ate. By the fourth day, the space could last an entire night. He felt lighter too—probably a sign of progress.

He washed briefly, skipped dinner, and collapsed into bed.

But while sleeping, he suddenly felt someone touching his arm. Forcing his heavy eyes open, he saw Li Xun sitting beside the bed, gently caressing his arm in the candlelight.

The red marks were long gone.