Blossoms of Power

In ancient times, amidst classical romance where green tiles crowned ancient walls, where roadside flowers bloomed to perfume passing robes; where vermillion gates led to purple palaces, where delicate hands plucked stars to weave into celestial garments. Among the sons of Heaven’s household, should I be given the choice to select, even before His Majesty’s presence, this declaration I would dare to make?

She was noble and aloof, cold in her beauty, looking down upon all living beings – not a single person or matter in this world could stir her emotions. Until she encountered that supreme cup of pre-rain Dragon Well tea.

He knelt to plead for the corrupt Minister of Personnel: “Let not the punishment extend to his wife and children.” The hundred officials were moved: “The Crown Prince is truly benevolent.” Only she knew – the crimes were exposed by him, and the Minister’s position would be filled by his own man.

He rushed to defend a Prince suspected of treason: “Second Brother is filial and fraternal. I cannot believe he would commit such heinous acts.” The royal clan praised him: “The Crown Prince values family bonds.” Only she knew – the treason was his scheme, his rushing about merely cleaning up afterward, ensuring iron-clad evidence would emerge, making others take the fall.

He tasted the medicine for his bedridden Emperor, attending the sickbed with filial devotion: “Until Father Emperor recovers, I shall not take a single meal.” The common people were touched: “The Crown Prince is truly filial and righteous.” Only she knew – the poison was administered by him, and his tasting of medicine was to ensure the Emperor wouldn’t wake too soon.

To her, he was gentle and harmless: “Hehe, Xi He, though I may be weak of constitution, whatever you need, I can present it all to you.”

Weak? He surely didn’t know she had witnessed him taking three heads with a single sword stroke. Stop pretending, Your Highness the Crown Prince.