SWHCBB 34

Chapter 34: [Plot Chapter] The Princess Purges the Court

Wen Yan was dressed to the nines, in a golden-red palace robe so dazzling it was hard to look at her directly, but in her hand, she carried a long sword that contrasted her attire.

Expressionless, she dragged the sword into the grand hall. Its tip scraped loudly along the floor, a grating noise that heightened the tension in the room. Angry shouts erupted from ministers on both sides, questioning her intentions.

But Wen Yan clearly saw the fear in their eyes and the tremble in their knees. She sneered coldly, brimming with disdain.

The Emperor asked her, “Ah-Yan, what are you trying to do?”

He didn’t scold her for bearing a sword to court, an act that could easily be seen as treason. Yet the Emperor clearly didn’t think it serious.

To him, Wen Yan had always been a rebellious, unruly, arrogant girl.

This was the image Wen Yan had cultivated in his mind over many years.

Her voice sharp and loud, Wen Yan ensured everyone in the hall could hear her: “Your Majesty, this daughter has come to purge those close to the throne!”

The minister who had just been pleading for the Emperor to eliminate evil-doers trembled, looking up at Wen Yan in disbelief. He shouted, “Demoness! You dare defy the heavens!”

With a thud, the sword’s tip pierced straight through his chest. The minister spasmed in pain; Wen Yan’s eyes flashed with satisfaction. She swiftly withdrew the blade, blood dripping down from its tip. Standing before the court, she looked like a vengeful ghost.

The other kneeling ministers had never witnessed such a scene, some fell back in terror, pointing at her, their hands trembling. “You… you…”

Even the Emperor was caught off guard. “Ah-Yan! You-!!”

The remaining ministers began shouting anxiously for the Emperor to have the Princess restrained. To kill a loyal court official in public, where was the imperial dignity?

Wen Yan calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped her sword. “Your Majesty, the one I killed is no true minister. Quite the opposite, he was a treacherous villain. He and his ilk spread rumors, faked omens, staged accidents to manipulate the people and the throne, all for the sake of power and political scheming! Should such people not be killed?”

She raised her eyes to meet the Emperor’s, her tone filled with sorrow. “Back then, my mother was framed and slandered to death by these very same kinds of traitors. I was too young then to protect her or Father. But now, I’ve grown.”

She turned, brandishing her sword toward the hall’s guilty. “I couldn’t protect my mother, but at the very least, this time, I will protect Father. Even if it costs me my life!”

The Emperor’s eyes reddened immediately. The older one gets, the more nostalgic they become. Especially now, when the Empress grew increasingly inconsiderate, and none of the other concubines understood him. The days spent with Consort Chen had been his happiest.

The more he missed Consort Chen, the more he resented Wen Jue. If not for him, perhaps Consort Chen wouldn’t have faded so quickly.

He completely forgot that he himself was the true cause of it all, always blaming others as if that would ease his guilt over losing her.

The Emperor remained silent, but the ministers couldn’t tolerate her insolence. One of them shouted for her to be seized.

At that moment, the Prince Yi’s faction stepped in as so-called mediators. One of them asked pointedly, “Since Her Highness says so, she must have evidence. Could she show it to us?”

Jiang Chuang recounted, “Then Royal Sister laid out the evidence and witnesses one by one.”

Several scholars who had spread the rumors were found to have drafts of fabricated stories about Consort Chen in their homes. Handwriting comparisons proved the match.

The lightning-struck Buddha statue was a fake, manmade damage, poorly executed. The so-called weeping golden Bodhisattva? That too was fake—a monk bribed to drip gold-tinted water onto the statue in full view of worshippers. And the century-old bridge collapse? The break was clearly sawed through!

People had died in that accident, all to set a trap for the Princess and her brother, sacrificing innocent lives.

The Emperor flew into a rage. With material and witness evidence both laid out, no one could deny it. The ministers who had jumped forward to accuse them now turned pale, trembling as they looked toward the Sixth Prince, silently begging for help.

But the Sixth Prince lowered his head, pretending not to see. That was until he felt a chill run through his body, like a venomous serpent watching him.

He turned, and there was Princess Chenyu, staring at him coldly.

How could she ever let those who wronged her go?

“Spreading rumors, playing god, forging evidence, bribing monks and priests, these crimes were pinned on us. Our very existence was declared a sin. The same tactics used to destroy my mother are being used again, this time against me and my fifth brother.”

Wen Yan’s voice turned icy as she questioned the Sixth Prince, “What have we done wrong, that you and the Empress would repeatedly try to kill us this way?”

The court burst into uproar. Princess Chenyu had torn all pretenses away, laying everything bare!

The Sixth Prince tried to refute her, to cleanse himself of guilt.

Wen Yan threw down her sword in disgust, clapping her hands and calling out, naming each minister who had called her a demoness. She listed their connections to the Empress’s family or to the Sixth Prince with pinpoint accuracy.

Without exception, every one of them was either aided by or belonged to the Xiang family. The more she spoke, the darker the Emperor’s expression grew. Even those ministers not involved looked at her with a newfound fear.

Wen Yan declared, “Had I not prepared in advance, my brother and I would already be dead in Qingshan Temple in Fengcheng! I beg Your Majesty, see clearly, protect us, and uphold justice!”

The Sixth Prince trembled, lips parted to speak again, but the Emperor waved a hand, unwilling to listen further. He ordered the Sixth Prince confined and not to appear without summons. The Empress was also placed under house arrest in the Fengluan Palace.

The ministers who had supported the Sixth Prince? Three ringleaders were executed. The rest were exiled, never to return to the capital. As for the scholars who spread rumors and harmed civilians, some were executed, others imprisoned.

The Sixth Prince and the Empress couldn’t be easily punished, this wasn’t a matter that threatened the nation. The Emperor had no wish to go further.

He turned to Wen Yan. “Ah-Yan, are you satisfied now?”

This question alone reminded all the ministers of Princess Chenyu’s political power.

But to Wen Yan, this wasn’t enough.

She knew full well, the Emperor’s favor and trust in her were based entirely on one premise: that she was a woman, incapable of becoming emperor, and therefore no threat to his rule.

Wen Yan shook her head. “Father, you’ve forgotten one thing, the royal edict to confer a title upon Fifth Brother.”

The Emperor’s expression darkened, clearly displeased, but Wen Yan went on as if she hadn’t noticed.

“Fifth Brother has led a bitter life. Not long after birth, he lost his mother. Before he grew up, his eyes were harmed by traitors. He’s lived with so much pain. Only recently has he begun to live a better life, thanks to Your Majesty’s grace in granting him marriage. But now, just as things are improving, others covet his rise and use the same old tactics to harm him again.”

Her voice choked with emotion, Wen Yan looked at the Emperor with teary eyes. For a moment, the Emperor thought it was Consort Chen herself, pleading on Wen Jue’s behalf in the hall.

“Zhiyu was injured as a child, and due to delayed treatment, his health was dragged down. Now he lies unconscious and feverish. He was born weak, always frail, and yet after being born he still had to suffer so much. If Mother were watching from the heavens, seeing Zhiyu like this, her heart would surely shatter!”

Wen Yan knew exactly what her aging father yearned for most: familial affection and the love he once had but lost. She pressed right into that old wound with precision.

The Emperor nodded, eyes red. “It’s true. I owe him. I should repay him. Someone, bring my decree. I confer the title of Prince Jin upon the Fifth Prince!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Only then did Wen Yan kneel. “This daughter thanks Father on behalf of Zhiyu.”

Jiang Chuang also knelt, bowing deeply. “This subject thanks His Majesty on behalf of my husband, Wen Jue! Long live His Majesty’s wisdom!”

The Emperor waved his hand, motioning them to rise. Then he summoned attendants to remove the Sixth Prince and the ministers involved.

The Sixth Prince had never suffered such humiliation, he trembled all over.

Suddenly, he seemed to realize something. He turned his glare toward Wen Yan, then looked at Prince Yi and shouted, “Father! I… I’ve made mistakes, yes–but I never intended to take lives! I only wanted to share in Your Majesty’s burdens, I never expected to be used! I never did something as vile as sawing through the bridge and killing innocents! Father!”

He sobbed and wailed, completely losing face, glaring hatefully at Prince Yi. His mother had warned him Prince Yi might have had a hand in this. If he was to fall, Prince Yi wouldn’t get away unscathed.

“It was Prince Yi who framed me! Princess Chenyu and Prince Yi are in this together! Just investigate and you’ll see! Just one look! Father, you raised me, you know what kind of person I am! I admit my wrongs, but I can’t bear to see you deceived!”

Prince Yi smiled calmly, dismissing it as desperate slander. “I’ve never had grievances with the Princess or the Fifth Prince. Why would I want to harm them?”

Wen Yan replied evenly, “Sixth Brother, if you do something, then own up to it. I’m not like you and the Empress, scheming one way in public and another in private. Father, Mother, Zhiyu, they are the most important people in my life. Even if I wanted to do something reckless, I’d never risk them.”

The Emperor’s expression softened. He ordered the Sixth Prince dragged out, no longer willing to hear another word. However, he did give Prince Yi a long look, his gaze dark. Prince Yi maintained a humble demeanor.

Wen Yan took it all in. She knew Zhiyu’s net had been cast well.

The Xiang family had taken a serious blow. Most of their nurtured allies were gone. The Sixth Prince and Empress were now smeared with reputations for superstition and treachery, and had lost imperial favor, public support, and the court’s trust.

The Emperor would never let go of his suspicions toward Prince Yi. Even if he didn’t act on them now, he would mark them down.

Zhiyu had successfully been named a prince.

Three birds, one stone, the stone thrown, the net drawn.

After court, Wen Yan brought lotus seed soup she had personally prepared to the Yangxin Hall. The Emperor was resting, eyes closed, while a eunuch massaged his temples.

She set the bowl down. “Father…”

The Emperor opened his eyes and, seeing her, waved the attendants away. “You’re here. What is it now? Here to plead for your precious brother again?”

Wen Yan shook her head and admitted her fault directly. “Your daughter is unfilial, making Father worry so much. This lotus soup, I made it myself, without anyone else’s help. If it’s drinkable, then don’t hold today’s offense against me.”

She knew the Emperor would be annoyed once he came to his senses, so better to strike while the iron was still hot.

“Lotus seed soup,” he repeated, shaking his head with a helpless smile. “Lotus seed… ‘pity the child’¹… you really are clever. What could I possibly hold against you?”

He took a spoonful, tasted it, and smiled. “Not bad. I was going to be angry, but now I can’t even manage it.”

Wen Yan grinned and recalled fondly, “When I was little and made Mother mad, I’d have the kitchen maid make this soup and come up with a story. She’d cry and scold me at the same time.”

The Emperor laughed again, then fell into a nostalgic silence as he stared at the bowl.

Wen Yan continued, “I know I forced you in court today, and you must be angry, either at me or at Zhiyu. But it was my idea. Please don’t blame him, all right? He has no descendants of his own. Even if you give him a fief now, when he’s gone, it returns to the court anyway. So why not let him be happy for once?”

Her reasoning was sound, and the Emperor let go of his displeasure over being cornered into the edict.

“You’re filial to your parents, and you love your brother,” he sighed, thinking of his other children. They were sons and daughters, yes, but also subjects. Beyond their titles, how much real filial affection remained?

Wen Yan tore a scrap of discarded memorial paper from his desk and began folding a paper crane. The Emperor liked this carefree side of her, and chuckled softly.

“That’s because Mother and Father raised me right!” Wen Yan declared. Then she added, “After Mother passed, I often thought, if only I had been born into a normal family. If Father weren’t Emperor and Mother weren’t a concubine, you two could’ve grown old together, and I’d just take care of Zhiyu. I’d catch the two of you sneaking snacks from street vendors and not sharing with me and Zhiyu!”

Both she and the Emperor laughed at the vivid image, it felt real.

She went on, “At night, we’d all lie in the courtyard, enjoying the breeze and counting stars together. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

The Emperor replied, “If I’d been born into an ordinary family, with an ordinary life… it would have been peaceful. It’s my fault, I’ve always neglected Zhiyu. It’s just that… I’m still human. When I look at him, I can’t help but think, if not for him, your mother…”

He trailed off.

Wen Yan shook her head. “Father is wrong. Zhiyu is Mother’s own flesh. She would’ve wanted you to love him just as you love me. Flesh of your palm or back of your hand, it’s all the same. If you’re too biased, you’ll break Zhiyu’s heart, Mother’s heart, and mine too.”

She coaxed him gently, “Father, you are the most important person to both Zhiyu and me, second only to Mother. Let’s not let any more distance grow between us as a family.”

The Emperor nodded. “Yes. It was my fault.”

Wen Yan smiled sweetly, playing the doting daughter to perfection.

She would fight for everything Zhiyu deserved. Even if she failed to seize the throne herself, she would make sure Zhiyu survived.

With Jiang Chuang by his side, even if Zhiyu grieved, he would survive.

1. 莲子 (liánzǐ) means lotus seed. 子 (zǐ) also means child or son in Chinese. So “莲子” (lotus seed) sounds like “连子”, which can imply “connected children” or “pity the child” depending on the tone and context. ↩︎