A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City

Chapter 82

"Since you weren’t here, I never opened this box." Ming Jiyuan placed an antique wooden box into Jiuzhu’s hands. "I asked the Daoist nun for her name, but she refused to tell me. I invited her to stay at our home, but she declined, saying that meetings and partings are matters of fate and should not be forced. She also said that if you asked, you would understand."

"I lived deep in the mountains with my two masters for many years. Our temple rarely had visitors, though occasionally, wandering cultivators would stop by to rest." Jiuzhu gently stroked the wooden box, her eyes filled with affection. "They came and went freely, kind to the elderly and weak but never leaving their names. My masters must have learned that this nun was passing through the capital and asked her to deliver this to me."

After bidding farewell to her parents, Jiuzhu boarded the carriage. Even as the carriage traveled far, she lifted the curtain and looked back, still able to see the Ming Family standing at the gate, watching her depart.

"Don’t be sad. With me here, I can bring you home often." Prince Chen took out the red envelopes and pouches he had received earlier and placed them in Jiuzhu’s hands.

"Your Highness, why are you giving these to me?" Jiuzhu looked at him in confusion.

"A husband’s wealth belongs to his wife—that’s only natural." Prince Chen rubbed his nose awkwardly. "All my fox… I mean, my guards and attendants do the same after they marry."

"Then in the future, if Your Highness needs money, just tell me." Jiuzhu tucked the silver away carefully.

"But a man shouldn’t be given money so freely," Prince Chen coughed lightly. "What if I spend it recklessly without you knowing?"

"If spending it makes Your Highness happy, then it’s worth it. Money is just a worldly possession—Your Highness is far more important." Jiuzhu thought for a moment and added, "Though it would be even better if Your Highness didn’t deceive me."

The same Jiuzhu who had once picked the tiniest piece of silver to compensate him for a cricket’s funeral expenses—now saying that money was trivial and his happiness mattered most?

Just how much did this silly little Ming Pig care about him?

"You… you…" Prince Chen sighed deeply. Thankfully, she had married him. If she had wed someone else, who knew how badly she might have been treated?

"Your ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Highness." Jiuzhu placed the wooden box on her lap. "I’d like to see what my masters sent."

"Go ahead." Prince Chen stood to leave the carriage. "I’ll tell the driver to steady the ride."

"Your Highness." Jiuzhu reached out and pulled him back. "Sit with me while I look."

"Alright." Prince Chen paused, then shifted closer to her. "What treasures did your masters send us?"

Climbing the ladder when given the chance—Prince Chen was a master at it.

Jiuzhu carefully lifted the lid. Inside lay several small boxes, each no larger than a palm.

Prince Chen wondered—just how many gifts had they prepared?

The first box contained six bottles of medicine.

The second, third, and fourth boxes also held medicine, though each for different ailments.

There were antidote pills, blood-staunching elixirs, cold-prevention powders, fever-relieving syrups, and more.

"Little Pig, are your masters divine healers?" Prince Chen eyed the numerous boxes of pills, the mixed medicinal scents slightly overwhelming.

"I don’t know. Our temple was poor, so we couldn’t afford medicine. Whenever I fell ill, my second master would gather herbs from the mountain and brew them into a bitter soup." Jiuzhu recalled her days with her masters fondly. "But my first master often called the second a quack, saying I survived only because of my strong constitution."

Prince Chen fell silent for a moment. "What were your parents thinking, sending you to such a remote temple?"

Jiuzhu smiled. "The temple was poor, but my masters treated me very, very well."

She picked up the last box at the bottom. Inside were two letters and a pair of silver hairpins.

The hairpins shared similar floral designs—one for a man, the other for a woman.

Jiuzhu stared at the feminine pin for a long time without speaking.

"What’s wrong?" Prince Chen, noticing her unsettled expression, wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Jiuzhu?"

"Once, I lost a silver hairpin in Huaxi River… it looked just like this, only much smaller." Jiuzhu handed the pin to Prince Chen. "Your Highness, help me put it on."

Prince Chen fastened it into her hair. "It suits you."

"Really?" Jiuzhu touched the pin lightly.

"Have I ever lied to you?" He removed his own crown and secured the masculine pin in his hair. "This one must be for me. We’re a matching pair now."

Though the silver pins were simple, when worn by him, they carried an air of royal elegance.

Beautiful people made even ordinary things shine.

The two letters—one from her first master, the other from her second—were brief, as neither was one for lengthy words. They described the properties of each medicine, admitted their own financial struggles, and explained that the paired hairpins were their wedding gift.

[The mountains are peaceful. Your second master and I dislike visitors. There’s no need to send money or clothes often. Since you left, the temple’s expenses have… drastically decreased.]

"Drastically decreased"—wasn’t that phrasing a bit too harsh?

Jiuzhu’s heartache and longing were instantly halved by those words.

[Partings are the way of life. If you miss us, simply write on Mid-Autumn Festival and New Year’s Eve. The moon is the same moon, the sun the same sun—no matter how far apart we are, the view remains unchanged.]

Jiuzhu sniffled. She knew her masters had never been fond of noise. The temple had only grown lively because of her.

After reading her first master’s letter word by word, she opened the second.

[Once a master, always a master. To us, you were both disciple and daughter. These past months, your first master has recited sutras before the Three Pure Ones for your safety. Two months ago, she added another for your future husband. You and Prince Chen were worlds apart, yet fate brought you together—a true blessing.]

[The medicines I prepared for you are all excellent remedies. Trust in my skills.]

Jiuzhu read both letters over and over before carefully tucking them away. She looked up at Prince Chen. "Your Highness, my masters said we were fated to be together."

"The Emperor is the Son of Heaven. His decree for our marriage is indeed heaven’s will." Though separated by thousands of miles from these two masters, Prince Chen chose to flatter them. "Your masters must be true sages to foresee this."

"The medicines they made must be rare treasures." He gathered the boxes solemnly. "I’ll keep them safe."

Jiuzhu: "…"

She wasn’t sure about them being sages, but she did know her second master’s cooking was terrible and her herbal brews unbearably bitter. Still, seeing Prince Chen’s earnest expression, she couldn’t bear to disillusion him. "Yes, let’s keep them well."

No matter the efficacy of the pills, they were her masters’ heartfelt gifts—how could she treat them carelessly?

Just as the couple finished storing the boxes, loud arguing erupted outside the carriage, voices heated, with words like "prince" and "wastrel" thrown about.

Jiuzhu curiously leaned her head out of the carriage window and spotted several young men dressed in luxurious brocade robes arguing beneath the stone lions by the entrance of the Capital Prefecture's office. Among them, a man in a brown brocade robe had a large bruise on his forehead and wore an expression of extreme fury.

"Yun Qirong, don’t think I’m afraid of you just because you outnumber me!" The man in brown clutched his forehead and shouted. "Stop flaunting your title as an imperial guard to intimidate people. Everyone knows you only got that position because you licked Prince Chen’s boots!"

"So what if I serve Prince Chen?" Yun Qirong rolled up his sleeves. "You wish you could be in my place, but you’re not even worthy!"

Yu Jian, who happened to be passing by while off duty, paused mid-step.

For some reason, he felt like he’d been insulted too.

"Fine, I’m not worthy, but can you still cling to Prince Chen now?" The man in brown didn’t dare insult the prince directly, so he pointed at Yun Qirong instead. "His Highness hasn’t spent time with you lot in ages, has he?"

"You know nothing!" Yun Qirong sneered mysteriously, puffing out his chest. "If not for His Highness, would we have gone to Hongwen Academy to deliver books? The work we, Prince Chen’s trusted aides, do for him is beyond the comprehension of a royal fringe-dweller like you!"

"Many of those scholars are the future pillars of our great nation. As a distant relative of the imperial family, not only do you fail to treat them with respect, but you even tried to humiliate them with despicable means. How could you stoop so low?" Yun Qirong knew the importance of boasting about good deeds while keeping quiet about the bad. "Though others dismiss us as wastrels, Prince Chen has taught us to recognize the greatness and hardships of scholars. We revere them and aspire to their ideals. Of course, we’d stop scum like you from bullying them."

The onlookers quickly pieced together the story: a nobleman had bullied defenseless scholars, only to be confronted by a group of young lords close to Prince Chen, leading to this public spat.

"You’re running errands for Prince Chen?" The brown-robed nobleman burst into laughter. "You expect us to believe that? Who would ever trust wastrels like you with real work?"

Yu Jian frowned. Though Yun Qirong and his friends were known for idleness, they never harassed the innocent. This man’s words were too harsh.

"Oh? You take issue with me assigning them tasks?" Prince Chen stepped down from his carriage. "Since when do I need your approval to act?"

"Who do you think you—"

"P-Prince Chen!" The man in brown paled, hastily lowering his hand from his forehead and bowing deeply. "Forgive my thoughtless words, Your Highness."

"Your Highness!" Yun Qirong and his companions brightened at the sight of the prince. "We’ve completed all the tasks you assigned today. We only ran into this troublemaker outside Hongwen Academy."

He couldn’t resist adding, "That silver hairpin you’re wearing today is exquisite, Your Highness."

Prince Chen raised a brow, tilting his chin up. "A gift from Jiuzhu’s elders."

The brown-robed nobleman’s neck stiffened. "Your Highness, this is all a misunderstanding. Please allow me to explain."

"Silence. I’ve no interest in your excuses." Prince Chen returned to his carriage and helped Jiuzhu down. "Qirong, you explain."

Yun Qirong noticed the silver hairpin in Jiuzhu’s hair, matching the prince’s. He bowed his head and recounted the incident—though a simple matter, his vivid narration painted the brown-robed man as a monstrous bully tormenting helpless scholars like kittens. The crowd seethed with indignation.

Jiuzhu glanced at the nobleman’s shoes. Forcing someone to lick them? Some people in the capital had truly bizarre tastes.

"Qirong, give him a silver ingot." Prince Chen reached into his sleeve, then remembered he’d given all his money to Jiuzhu. He turned to Yun Qirong instead. "Have him remove his shoes now and walk home barefoot."

A man without coins must learn to improvise.

Such was the importance of having wealthy subordinates.

"If someone dirties your shoes, it’s only right they apologize, buy you new ones, or clean them," Prince Chen said coolly. "But demanding they kneel and lick them is humiliation."

"Enough." The prince lifted his chin. "I’ve no patience for further nonsense. Walk home barefoot now—I’ll have men escort you to ensure you don’t cheat."