Wangchun Garden was brightly lit, though unlike the hunting ground, the clamor here was much more refined.
Music played continuously, dancers moved gracefully, appearing and disappearing among pavilions, towers, and waterside halls—like a paradise on earth.
Before the main hall, over a hundred low tables spread out for the scholars, who were now deep in wine and food. Many already showed drunken expressions on their faces. However, drunk scholars didn’t brawl or cause disturbances—they remained refined and cultured. At most, they loosened their hair and clothing. Some wielded brushes to splash ink in painting, while others held wine pots aloft, loudly composing and reciting poetry.
On the corridor before the hall, the Third Prince also sat on the ground, without a trace of princely arrogance, joining everyone in wielding brushes and composing poetry.
“Third Prince is a model for us scholars!” many voices called out in unison.
The Third Prince laughed heartily and raised the brush in his hand: “May we study together with all under heaven!”
A eunuch approached with a smiling face to refill the Third Prince’s wine, saying in a low voice: “The road has been cut off. We can make our move.”
The Third Prince raised his wine cup and nodded with a smile at a scholar toasting him, then drained it in one gulp. He stood up, flung the cup away, his wide sleeves swaying, chanting poetry as he moved gracefully.
The scholars laughed and joined in the chanting, drowning out the music and dance, their voices soaring to the heavens. Both observers and participants among the scholars were intoxicated—such an elegant spectacle was rarely seen.
The Third Prince continued chanting as he walked, arriving at the rear of the hall where his uncle Minister Zhao waited with a smile.
“Your Highness composed that poem extremely well,” he praised, then asked, “Shall we act now?”
The Third Prince looked up at the night sky with a smile. The night sky had neither moon nor stars—black as ink.
“Truly a moonless night for murder,” he sighed, then turned to look at Minister Zhao. “Tonight the Crown Prince will surely revel until dawn. At least he’ll enjoy himself before death.”
Minister Zhao smiled in acknowledgment: “With Your Highness being so considerate, your brotherhood will not have been in vain.”
The Third Prince tied up his sleeves and said: “Let’s go. I’ll personally see my imperial brother off.”
A eunuch beside him stepped forward to wrap a belt around the Third Prince’s waist.
Uncle Zhao stood by with his hands tucked in his sleeves, saying with a smile: “After this parting, may you never meet again in the next life.”
The Third Prince laughed heartily.
Uncle Zhao said: “However, not everyone accompanied the Crown Prince. Quite a few remain in the city.”
According to the original plan, they would strike within the city—close the gates, surround with crossbows, set fires, and not one would escape.
But now the Crown Prince’s family had gone to the hunting ground, forcing them to divide their forces. This way, they could only deal with the main followers.
Like the Yang and Xie families.
“That’s enough,” the Third Prince said without concern. “Once we deal with the Crown Prince, what do the rest matter?”
That was all they could do. Uncle Zhao thought it over and decided to add one more person.
“Remember to set a fire at Chu Garden while you’re at it,” he instructed his attendants.
It was all that young woman’s fault, interfering. If not for her, there would have been no Chu Garden literary gathering, the Crown Prince wouldn’t have gotten leverage to arrest people at will, and the Crown Prince wouldn’t have taken the opportunity to show off with this hunting event, disrupting their plans.
The Third Prince’s long-cherished wish was about to be fulfilled, putting him in excellent spirits. He was no longer so angry at that young woman.
He smiled, his pale pointed chin prominent: “Uncle, don’t rush. That young woman—in the future, we’ll make her beg for death. Killing her now would be too easy on her.”
With that, he took the cloak a eunuch handed him and swept it over his shoulders.
The cloak had a large hood that covered his head and face.
His entire figure instantly merged into the night.
……
……
The night was deep, but the clamor outside grew deeper still. Even the thick tent walls couldn’t block it out.
Fortunately, the child had played all day and was exhausted, sleeping soundly.
The Crown Princess arranged the thin blanket her son had kicked off, her gaze falling inside the blanket where she saw the bamboo tube was also there—she didn’t know what treasure it contained. The eunuchs had quietly told her that the young prince had originally intended it for the Crown Prince.
Though the Crown Prince neglected this son, the son still deeply depended on his father. The Crown Princess could understand this—she had always educated and raised her son this way. After all, this father wasn’t just a father but also a sovereign.
She didn’t disturb the bamboo tube, carefully studying her son’s sleeping face, her eyes full of indulgence.
A palace maid beside her said with a soft laugh: “The young prince resembles you more.”
The Crown Princess smiled: “His Highness the Crown Prince isn’t ugly either.”
The palace maid smiled with pursed lips. Without the palace’s prying eyes everywhere, mistress and servant could speak more freely.
“Let the young prince sleep,” she said quietly, helping the Crown Princess to her feet.
The two walked out of the tent, and the clamor crashed over them. Looking toward the firelight and dancing figures ahead, the Crown Princess couldn’t help pressing her forehead.
“Your Highness,” the palace maid said in a low voice, “you should rest. The Crown Prince’s side will certainly go all night.”
This hunting event lasted three days. The first day went all night, the second day was for rest, the third day another banquet. The couple would probably exchange a sentence or two.
In the palace or outside—what difference did it make?
A trace of gloom flashed through the Crown Princess’s eyes. Though she had long grown accustomed to it, coming out this time, she had still harbored some hope—hope that the family of three could talk together.
She shouldn’t have held such extravagant expectations.
The Crown Princess lowered her eyes and turned around. The next moment, remembering something, she turned back.
“Why haven’t the people sent to Yanfang returned?” she asked.