Chapter 138: Kiss Under the Pomegranate Blossoms
Cheng Zhao went to her grandfather’s study.
The grandfather and granddaughter talked for a long time.
“... No wonder he told Zhou Yuanshen to produce a ‘crown prince,’” her grandfather said.
The surprise in his eyes reassured Cheng Zhao. It wasn’t that she lacked insight or thought too shallowly—this matter was unheard of, utterly bewildering. Even her grandfather, a veteran minister who had served three reigns, was taken aback.
The Emperor was utterly mad.
“Yuanshen has been wronged,” her grandfather said.
He frowned slightly as he spoke.
He glanced at Cheng Zhao, then shook his head quickly and subtly.
But Cheng Zhao understood what he was thinking: The Emperor insisted on a child raised by the Grand Lady becoming the crown prince, believing that only such a child would be worthy and capable. If Empress Mu Jiang was gone, would other women be in danger?
After all, Zhou Yuanshen seemed completely obedient—he could even present his own beautiful concubine to the Emperor.
But her grandfather did not say this aloud. Such speculation should not come from an elder; it was too sordid.
“Zhaozhao, send for Yuanshen. I want to speak with him,” her grandfather said.
No matter how the Zhou family stirred up trouble, the Grand Chancellor Cheng could ignore it, but he had to ensure his granddaughter’s safety.
“I’ll have Qiubai find Nanfeng, and Nanfeng can locate him,” Cheng Zhao said.
Her grandfather nodded slightly.
This topic was too oppressive and revolting. Her grandfather dropped it to spare Cheng Zhao discomfort and began talking about the Dragon Boat Festival.
Shortly after the midday meal, Zhou Yuanshen arrived.
He came directly to her grandfather’s outer study.
Cheng Zhao left the study to them and went to find her father. She had promised her mother last time that she would speak more with him this visit.
Yet, the father and daughter sat alone, silently playing chess, exchanging no more than five words.
When he spoke, Cheng Zhao could never pick up the thread; what she said seemed to go unheard by him.
“... Fourth Brother brought Helian Xuan home again,” Cheng Zhao finally found a topic. “You should tell him to stop wasting his time with Helian Xuan.”
“He’s an adult now,” her father said.
He never interfered in his children’s social affairs, as long as they did not commit major errors.
“Shouldn’t Helian Xuan return to his fief?” Cheng Zhao asked again.
“The Emperor issued a special decree to keep him here. As long as he has an official assignment, he can serve the Emperor at court. The Emperor trusts him,” her father said.
Cheng Zhao: “Also?”
“There’s another who has won the Emperor’s favor—the Duke of Chen,” her father said.
Cheng Zhao frowned: “What has Helian Xuan done to deserve that?”
“He has some talent,” her father said.
“He hasn’t taken the blame for the Emperor the way the Duke of Chen has. The Duke does all the dirty work. How can Helian Xuan be on equal footing?” Cheng Zhao said.
Her father placed a stone: “Bloodlines.”
Blood was like invisible tendrils reaching into every corner of human hearts, strangely binding people together. When brothers in a family fought, outsiders who tried to mediate often ended up making enemies of everyone.
Helian Xuan was the Emperor’s cousin. His father, Prince An, had long been highly valued by the Emperor.
“Their whole family is mad,” Cheng Zhao said.
She was a bit irritated and slammed her stone down hard.
Her father chided her: “Calm down. Restlessness loses focus.”
Cheng Zhao acknowledged the rebuke.
After three games of chess, with nothing left to say, Cheng Zhao rose to take her leave. She then went to her Second Brother’s courtyard, where Eldest Sister and Third Sister were also gathered.
The sisters’ company was much more pleasant.
Still, she did not talk much about the Duke of Chen’s household. Cheng Zhao mainly wanted to avoid causing trouble for her own family.
Suyue came looking for her.
“The Lord Duke is about to return. He asks if you will stay here tonight,” Suyue said.
Cheng Zhao stood up: “I’ll go back too.”
She added, “I’ll come back to stay for a few days after the festival. I’m busy these days.”
“Go on then,” Second Sister-in-Law said. “When you’re free in a few days, let’s play polo.”
She laughed: “This year has been strange. We’ve been talking about polo since the beginning of the year, and it’s already May.”
“I’m not good at polo. You and Eldest Sister are the best at it. Third Sister and I never really liked it,” Cheng Zhao said.
Cheng Ying laughed: “I’m pretty good at polo now. Our Prince’s mansion has a training ground, and Sister Dai and I often practice there. You’re the only one who’s still no good.”
The “Sister Dai” she mentioned was Master Dai, who had taught them swordplay as children. Later, Master Dai became Cheng Ying’s companion and followed her to the Prince of Jingnan’s residence.
Cheng Zhao: “...”
Leaving Second Brother’s courtyard, Cheng Zhao thought back to how she had learned horseback riding and polo as a child, but never developed much interest.
Later, she was forced to stay indoors and be a proper lady. Her mother forbade her from any recreational activities, allowing only sword practice for exercise.
The Duke of Chen’s mansion had no training ground, even though Second Brother’s family were all martial people. It was simply that the Grand Lady detested such things, and no one dared to touch a sore spot.
To be fair, the Duke of Chen’s estate was vast enough that it would be perfect for building a training ground.
Musing like this, Cheng Zhao reached the main gate.
Zhou Yuanshen was in his court robes, his official cap removed and his hair bound with a jade pin. He stood tall in the May sunlight. Golden rays fell on his face, making his eyes gleam.
He saw Cheng Zhao and took two steps forward to meet her.
“Duchess,” someone called from behind.
Cheng Zhao had just stepped over the threshold. She turned her head at the voice.
As she turned back, she realized her posture was somewhat inelegant, so she turned fully, crossed the threshold properly, and walked over to Zhou Yuanshen.
Behind her, Cheng Chao was seeing off Helian Xuan.
They exchanged greetings.
“... Last time at the Grand General’s mansion, the Old Madam mentioned Your Grace,” Helian Xuan said with a smile.
Zhou Yuanshen: “The Prince is too kind.”
“A’Chao and I were talking about playing polo. Would Your Grace care to join?” Helian Xuan asked again.
Cheng Zhao looked at her brother and said coldly, “It’s not settled yet. We’ll talk later.”
She glared at him.
Cheng Chao was annoyed but did not dare to glare back in public. Having such a little dragon in the family meant swallowing some pride at times.
“We have other business to attend to. We’ll take our leave now, Fourth Brother,” Cheng Zhao said.
Her gaze was fixed only on her brother.
Cheng Zhao forced himself to be polite: “Take care. Come home often.”
Cheng Zhao and Zhou Yuanshen boarded the carriage.
The carriage was dimly lit, and Zhou Yuanshen remained silent.
He sat in the shadows and finally asked, “It’s still early. Is there something urgent you need to go back for?”
“Nothing. I asked for leave today before coming out,” Cheng Zhao said.
“Then let’s go to the General of the Western Campaign’s mansion,” he said.
She remembered him saying that after the Dragon Boat Festival, when everyone’s mood had calmed, they would go for a visit. But business completed was business settled—there was no need to keep worrying.
“Alright,” she said.
The General of the Western Campaign’s mansion was closer to the Cheng residence, and the carriage arrived quickly.
The gatehouse was not tall, with walls of polished brick and flush mortar joints, and crimson-painted doors. When they knocked, a servant respectfully welcomed the master, calling him “General.”
Cheng Zhao glanced at him.
In the late afternoon sunlight, his eyes seemed bright.
Perhaps this was what his life should have been.
She followed Zhou Yuanshen inside.
The courtyard was indeed not large—smaller even than her Eldest Sister’s—but it was compact, elegant, and rather cozy.
The rear garden was also modest, no bigger than a corner of the Duke of Chen’s back garden, but several pomegranate trees were in full, fiery bloom.
“It’s really beautiful,” Cheng Zhao said. “These flowers are wonderful.”
“Would I lie to you?” he said.
He casually picked several blossoms.
Cheng Zhao could not hold them all, so she cupped her hands, and within moments they were brimming with flowers.
“That’s enough...” Cheng Zhao said, her eyes spotting a stone table nearby. She intended to set them down, wanting to keep just one.
Carrying so many was tiring.
Zhou Yuanshen picked a few more, then came over and placed them next to the pile in her hands.
Suddenly, he lifted her up and sat her down on the stone table.
Cheng Zhao instinctively braced herself against the table, the soft pomegranate blossoms cushioning her palms.
“Zhou Yuanshen, you...”
Before she could finish her words, he kissed her.