13. The Crown Prince Whose Future Hangs by a Thread

Xu Guiyi paused to consider before speaking honestly, “Because the full moon soon wanes, and water brimming over spills.”

Xu Da nodded slightly. “No wonder your father praises your cleverness so highly in his letters.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “The Xu family’s household rules are strict, our expectations for the younger generation severe. The men must be upright, diligent, and grounded; the women, virtuous, gentle, honest, and humble. Your uncle—my elder brother—has always placed great hopes on your cousin, wishing for him to uphold the family name and be a pillar of support for his siblings.”

This was also the expectation Xu Da held for himself—as the eldest brother, it was his duty to bear the family’s burdens.

“But neither your father nor I could have foreseen that, in this generation, our daughters would each outshine the last, even surpassing the men of the clan,” Xu Da remarked coldly, casting a sharp glance at Xu Guiyi.

A bitter taste rose in Xu Guiyi’s heart. “Uncle, you flatter me. The deep confines of the palace are no place of happiness.”

Seeing her so determined to walk into the tiger’s den despite knowing the danger, Xu Da’s face grew agitated, his lips trembling as he asked, “Since you know it’s no good place, why are you so stubborn? Guiyi, do you even know who the Crown Prince is? Do you know him? Do you understand him?” Xu Da clutched his chest, feeling a blaze threatening to burst forth from his heart.

What kind of man was the Crown Prince?

Had the current Crown Prince, Fu Lancheng, possessed even a slightly better reputation, Xu Da would not have been so distraught. Everyone in the land knew that the Crown Prince only held his position thanks to the power of his mother’s family. Since being named heir at thirteen, nine years had passed—he had accomplished nothing for the country and had not even managed to win the Emperor’s favor. Rumors abounded at court that His Majesty had long considered deposing the Crown Prince.

Would Xu Guiyi now marry into the Eastern Palace, becoming the Crown Princess of a precarious heir, her own position as unstable as his?

Xu Guiyi could only kneel in dazed silence. It was too late for regrets; she had already taken the black piece—now that the game had begun, she was determined to draw someone else into the match as well. There was no reason for her to withdraw alone. The tasks she must accomplish, the calamities she must cross, all lay at the highest reaches of power. She needed the identity and prestige of the Crown Princess to reach for the chilling majesty of imperial authority.

“Guiyi, what is it you intend to do? Get up, now!” Xu Da shouted, moving to help her rise.

Xu Guiyi blocked his hand, kneeling upright and resolute. Xu Da was helpless before her. The women of the Xu family had always been more stubborn than the men.

“Uncle, at this point, the Crown Prince’s character no longer matters. The imperial edict has been issued. My marriage into the Eastern Palace is set in stone—nothing can change that.” Her resolve was firm, yet her eyes reddened with tears.

Seeing her thus, Xu Da’s tone softened. “Guiyi, are you aware of the peril in the imperial family, the hardships of the Eastern Palace? Your grandmother and all of us never hoped for you to attain great wealth or honor—only that you might live in peace, grow old hand in hand with someone you love.”

Before she could answer, tears already fell from Xu Guiyi’s eyes. If only she were just Xu Guiyi!

“To win a true heart and grow old together, never parting—years ago, Grandfather wooed Grandmother with affection alone. Since childhood, we have all envied their love,” Xu Guiyi said now, still full of longing. In an era when men took many wives, the steadfast devotion between the old master and his wife was all but unique.

Fortunately, this admirable tradition had endured in the Xu family; not a single son took a concubine, nor was there a single child born outside of wedlock. Even when choosing sons-in-law, this requirement remained.

“Then why? With a smooth path laid out before you, why choose to fall into the devouring depths of the palace?”

Xu Guiyi did not reply, only managed a bitter smile before raising her eyes to her uncle. Xu Da had been full of doubts, but gazing into her strikingly beautiful features—even blurred with tears—they remained exquisite. Suddenly, he seemed to recall something, retreating two steps in alarm. “You… so you… you never forgot.”

“What happened all those years ago—my third and fourth uncles may not know, but my father surely told you everything. Please, Uncle, let me go through with this.” Xu Guiyi prostrated herself, tears streaming onto the floor.

Xu Da withdrew to his desk, bracing himself with one hand, turning away with tightly shut eyes, lost in thought for a long while.

“Guiyi, the dead are gone, the living remain. Why torture yourself so? Why can you not choose to forget?” Xu Da wished with all his heart that Xu Guiyi could remain simply his niece, just—just the Xu family’s child.

“One hundred and fifty-six lives lost at the Pei estate—how could I forget? Uncle, tell me, how should I forget?” Xu Guiyi clenched her teeth, fighting to keep from sobbing aloud, but her chest shook with silent grief.

Everyone who knew of it had told her to forget, to start anew.

But no one told her how.

During these six years in the Xu estate at Lanzhou, she had used nearly half the household’s supply of calming incense, yet still slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares. The world’s scorn for the Pei family, their unavenged deaths, haunted her…

She had tried to forget, but did not know how. No one had told her how to let go; they only repeated, again and again, that she must forget, must start over.

But it was so hard!

How could one forget?

“Back then…” Xu Da had never wanted to recall those events—a loyal general meeting a tragic end, how many such stories littered the annals of history?

But the one kneeling before him was his own niece; her pain pierced him deeply.

Back when he was heir to the title Lord Cheng’en, he had glimpsed, more than once, that peerless figure—crimson-robed, silver-spear in hand, riding a blue steed—on the streets of Guangling. A fleeting vision, unforgettable for life.

When General Feihong fell in battle at Chelan City, with fifty thousand guards slain to the last man, all of court mourned. Yet, in the Emperor’s wrath, who dared to speak up for the dead? Those families that did, over the years, were exiled, demoted, neglected—none escaped downfall.

Six years passed; Guangling remained unchanged, but none remembered General Pei Xueyao. Her only trace left—a few fleeting lines in the records of the Imperial Academy.

“It’s enough… Guiyi, get up,” Xu Da finally said, turning and gently lifting the weeping Xu Guiyi from the floor.

Xu Guiyi struggled to compose herself, heedless of appearances, wiping her tears away with her sleeve, her body still trembling. Only after a while did her emotions settle.

“Uncle, rest assured. Once I marry into the Eastern Palace, whatever happens, I alone shall bear the consequences. I will never bring harm upon the Xu family,” she said earnestly. If the day came when she must sacrifice herself, she would die alone, never implicating her kin.

Yet Xu Da, having barely managed to calm himself, was once more provoked by her words.

“Nonsense! You are a Xu—what talk is this of implicating or not implicating? This is utter foolishness, and you must stop such thoughts at once!” Xu Da’s harsh rebuke left Xu Guiyi shrinking back, not daring to utter another word.

“Is this what your father taught you? When disaster strikes, is it right to abandon your family? Or do you see us as cold-hearted, sharing only joy but not hardship?” Xu Da had never lost his temper so greatly.

“Uncle, I didn’t mean that…” She only wished not to endanger her family with her dangerous undertaking.

“Enough!” At that moment, Xu Da seemed to embody Xu Yan himself, inspiring fear.

At the Xu estate in Lanzhou, after receiving Xu Da’s letter, Xu Yan’s face had not relaxed for a moment.

“Father, are you skipping dinner again tonight?” Xu Luwei asked her fifth sister, Xu Xiwei, in a whisper.

“Never mind. Bring Father’s meal to his study,” said Madam Hua with a sigh.

“We’ll eat,” she continued to her daughters, but made no move to lift her chopsticks.

Xu Luwei, sensing her parents’ gloom, dared not disturb them. She looked to her sister, who subtly shook her head.

The two girls picked up their chopsticks cautiously, eating in silence.

At lunch, their father’s dark mood had already ruined their appetites, and now, after waiting for him at dinner only to see their mother’s unhappiness as well, their stomachs were rumbling. Still, they forced themselves to finish the meal.

Afterwards, Xu Xiwei and Xu Luwei walked back to their courtyards.

“Third Sister left in such haste that day. I was far away in Jingzhou, and didn’t make it back to see her off. Now she’s to become the Crown Princess—soon, it will be even harder to see her,” Xu Luwei said, pressing her shoe against a pebble, as if venting her frustration.

“Father and Mother have been in low spirits for days, especially Father,” Xu Xiwei replied, her brows tightly knit.

But what could they do?

“I’ve heard the Crown Prince has a terrible reputation. What if Third Sister is unhappy in the future? Our Xu family may be prominent, but we’re no match for the imperial clan,” Xu Luwei said, young and unaware of the gravity of her words.

Xu Xiwei, older and wiser, stopped her at once. “That’s dangerous talk—you must never say such things again. In the past, you spoke freely, but now that Third Sister is to be Crown Princess, we all must be even more careful, or we’ll only make things harder for her. Do you understand?”

Xu Luwei’s face blanched with realization, and she nodded quickly, “I understand, I won’t say it again. We mustn’t make trouble for Third Sister.” Thinking of how her sister’s fate was now bound to the Crown Prince’s, they could only hope the Eastern Palace would be harmonious, so that Third Sister’s days might be easier.