After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 29

Prince Yan’s residence was assigned to co-host the ceremony with the Ministry of Rites. The Ministry outlined the plans according to ceremonial protocols, but when it came time to request funds, Prince Yan’s residence remained conspicuously silent.

Rumors soon spread through the Ministry that Prince Yan’s residence likely couldn’t gather the necessary funds. Many speculated that they had only agreed to assist in front of the Emperor to buy time and shield Prince Yan.

Early that morning, Vice Minister Chen Yu’s carriage pulled up directly at Prince Yan’s residence. “This official requests to see Advisor Lu of Prince Yan’s residence.”

A female guard dressed in black intercepted him at the entrance. “Our Advisor is not yet awake.”

Chen Yu laughed coldly. “I once thought the rumors untrue—that Advisor Lu only rises at noon. But seeing it today, it seems they were right. Does he have any sense of duty?”

A shrill screech from above made Chen Yu look up, startled. A fierce gray hawk stood on the eaves as the female guard fed it raw meat from a bucket.

Covering his nose at the smell of blood, Chen Yu felt a growing discomfort as he watched the hawk tear at the meat. After lingering at the gate for a while, he finally departed.

“Advisor, I sent Vice Minister Chen away,” Chi Su, having finished feeding the hawk, reported as she entered.

Inside the side hall, a cool air lingered, scented with winter plum incense. Lu Huating, impeccably dressed, sat kneeling on the floor, his back turned as he sketched a map.

Before him lay a large white silk cloth, two feet long and a foot and a half wide, detailed with black ink lines depicting the layout of the palace interiors. The Zhaixing Tower was meticulously rendered, copied to scale from an ancient Chu map using a fine wolf-hair brush for precise detail.

Over the past few days, Lu Huating had inspected the entire Daming Palace, finally selecting the Zhaixing Tower as the venue for the ceremony. “To the north of Zhaixing Tower lies open space. By dismantling the railings, filling in the winding water channels, and opening the Azure Sky Gate and Rehung Gate, we can allow entry for the Buddha’s relics and the public through the northern gates.”

As he spoke, his military advisor calculated expenses on an abacus. “With this setup, costs will be significantly lower. However, if Minister Zhang has already presented his proposal, you’ll need to complete this map and submit it to the Emperor within three days to compete.”

Lu Huating had been working tirelessly to complete the map, setting down his brush and massaging his wrist. “Three days will suffice. I’ll start earlier over the next two days.”

Just then, Juan Su burst into the room. “Advisor, an imperial decree has arrived! As of tomorrow, you are to attend morning court on behalf of His Highness until he returns from campaign.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. The military advisor added, “Did I hear correctly? The Advisor attending morning court?”

“Court begins at Mao hour, doesn’t it?”

“The journey from Prince Yan’s residence to Taiji Hall takes nearly half an hour, even with a sedan chair. You’ll need to be up long before dawn.”

“His Highness finds the early mornings so draining that he often stays in the side hall overnight to avoid disturbing the Princess Consort.”

Lu Huating had already stepped outside, his face set. The elderly red-robed eunuch was waiting with the decree. Glancing directly at it, Lu Huating reached out. “May I see the decree?”

The old eunuch raised an eyebrow. “Why so impatient? Let me finish reading it first, then you can have it to study—day and night, if you like.”

Lu Huating had no choice but to withdraw his hand and kneel beneath the autumn paulownia to receive the decree.

As expected, the decree was just as Juan Su had reported. Lu Huating took the decree, and several guards gathered around to read it, all thinking to themselves, This is truly misfortune upon misfortune.

“Why would the Emperor give such an order?”

“I heard it was the Crown Prince’s idea, and the Emperor approved it.”

“What time should we wake tomorrow?” Juan Su’s teeth ached at the thought. 

“The Advisor has never risen this early. The Crown Prince is really testing his limits…”

“Why don’t we help draw the map for you?” Zhu Su suggested, glancing at the map.

Lu Hua Ting looked over, “Can you draw it?”

The shadow guards crouched down, studying the map. They could sketch battle formations for Prince Yan, but this intricate construction plan, with its precise measurements, left them dazed. Zhu Su shook her head firmly. “I can’t draw it.”

“Neither can I.”

“Nor can I.” Without waiting for Lu Huating’s response, they quickly retreated, gently closing the hall door behind them.

The military advisor eyed Lu Huating cautiously. “Advisor… can you still finish it in three days?”

Lu Huating stared down at the map spread out on the floor, clearly in a foul mood, remaining silent for a long time.

With his slender fingers, he carefully folded the decree and sneered sarcastically. 

“I won’t sleep at night—that should do it.”

Outside the window, petals drifted softly to the ground, while inside the Taiji Hall, constant arguments rang out. Emperor Chenming, seated on the throne, held his head with one hand. It was unclear whether he’d slept poorly or if his migraines were flaring up again.

Years of war had drained the treasury, leaving the new dynasty’s finances strained. The autumn tax collection had been inconsistent, and Emperor Chenming was visibly troubled.

Minister of Revenue Zhang Jun proposed ending previous tax exemptions for merchants: “Those reductions were granted by the late Emperor of Chu. They hold no relevance now. Great Chen should establish its own policies.”

“The merchants in Chang’an have just started to recover. Minister Zhang, have you forgotten the generosity they showed us when we entered Chang’an, gifting us winter clothing? Now that we’re secure, are we to impose taxes on them? Wouldn’t this discourage business and drive merchants away?” Meng Guanlou replied, turning to Zhang Jun.

“By law, the land tax is collected twice a year. Out of kindness, the Emperor reduced it to once. Now, with the end of the year and peace restored, it should resume twice. If Minister Zhang finds this difficult to collect, then it’s a failing in his duties.”

“Isn’t it true, Meng, that you’re about to marry into the Cui family? Clearly, your words are biased. Are you speaking for the merchants of Chang’an or the Cui family?” Zhang Jun shot back. “The Emperor’s heart may have been swayed by a few winter coats, but no one speaks of how much the Cui family has hoarded or the commoners they’ve exploited.”

Meng Guanlou retorted, “Minister Zhang, we’re here to discuss state matters—not a platform for personal grievances!”

Standing quietly in the back row, Lu Huating remained silent throughout.

“Isn’t Advisor Lu usually at odds with Meng Guanlou? Why so quiet now?” someone whispered.

“He’s being cautious. Prince Yan is still on the battlefield, and the outcome is uncertain. If he loses, Prince Yan will have no standing in the future.”

Chen Yu sneered, “The young man only wakes up at noon. his morning session must be much too early for him—he’s barely awake!”

Li Xuan turned around, ““Yunming, your family’s third branch urgently needs funds. I heard you’ve offended the Ministry of Rites over finances. Shouldn’t you be speaking on Prince Yan’s behalf?”

Lu Huating, dressed in his red official robes, stood with shadows from the trees casting across his shoulders like a delicate pattern on paper. He glanced at Li Xuan, refusing to take the bait: “Your Highness, I’m not fully awake yet. My mind isn’t clear.”

Emperor Chenming, visibly irritated, ordered, “Speak properly.”

“I don’t understand tax matters. However, just this morning, I issued thirty official tokens,” Lu Huating said. “Handling these tokens, I’m aware that over two thousand displaced persons are now in Chang’an. War uprooted their lands. If Chang’an is like this, the number of displaced people elsewhere must be even greater. Without addressing the displaced population, there will be no tax revenue to collect. Pushing too hard will only lead to rebellion. I can’t take lives just because I lack money.”

Someone interjected, “That’s true. This morning, a common woman beat the drum, seeking justice. She accused the Cui family of deceiving respectable displaced women, forcing them into Yelou House as courtesans…”

Meng Guanlou’s face turned red and pale, but Minister Meng signaled him to remain calm. Emperor Chenming, clutching his forehead in pain, dismissed the court.

Still angry, Zhang Jun approached Lu Huating. “Meng Guanlou went too far. Why didn’t Prince Yan’s residence speak up?

“What’s the use of arguing? It will only irritate His Majesty further,” Lu Huating replied. “Let them bicker. Everyone thinks the Emperor is mild and open to reason. But I think he’s already decided. You saw it—he’s holding back so much his migraines are flaring up.”

As they spoke in hushed tones, Lu Huating’s gaze shifted suddenly.

If a moment ago he had seemed as elusive as a fog, now his eyes sharpened, radiating a piercing brightness, that was almost startling.

Following his gaze, Zhang Jun saw the Crown Prince pass close by, their sleeves barely brushing. A sour aroma of yellow vanilla lingered in the air.

Sensing something, Li Xuan turned back. Lu Huating’s gaze was locked onto the sachet at his waist, his expression unreadable.

After a moment, Lu Hua Ting raised his gaze, his eyes deep and intense: “Your Highness, the color of the sachet you wear is too dark, not quite fitting with court attire. Please, grant it to me.”

Zhang Jun froze in surprise.

How could someone ask the Crown Prince for something so boldly?

Li Xuan assumed Lu Huating was seeking some sort of revenge for the morning court session. He glanced at the delicate golden double-fish sachet hanging at his waist and, with a cryptic smile, said, “This was a gift from a maid, rumored to be a relic from the deceased—unlucky and inauspicious. Since I’m of noble birth, I can handle it, but it wouldn’t suit you. I’ll get you a new one another day.”

He patted Lu Huating on the shoulder and walked away. As they brushed past, Lu Huating kept his expression impassive, but Zhang Jun noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor.

“I have matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave,” Lu Huating said casually, brushing past Zhang Jun without waiting for a response.

On his way back, poplar fluff drifted down onto his shoulders and sleeves. He reached up to brush it off, yet more white blossoms fell, impossible to clear away completely. Sunlight glared, and the image of the sachet at Li Xuan’s waist lingered in his mind. When he closed his eyes, he envisioned a face—plain yet laced with a provocative gaze.

Had he truly fallen under the influence of the Eastern Palace? 

A maid’s gift, a relic of the deceased…

As he thought of the imperial edict, Lu Huating’s lips curled into a faint smile that quickly vanished, his dark eyes as still and deep as water. A true nemesis, indeed.

According to Da Chen customs, only lovers who secretly admire each other would wear sachets gifted by one another. How daring of Qun Qing to give his sachet to the Crown Prince—was it a deliberate provocation or…?

As he reached the entrance of Prince Yan’s residence, he remained silent, leaving Jian Su puzzled as he waited at Cheng’an Gate. Passing through a grassy area, Lu Huating unexpectedly threw his jade tablet away.

As the jade tablet flew through the air, Jian Su also sprang forward.

He leaped into the grass to catch it, glancing around to ensure no one was watching. He whispered, “Advisor, you can’t just throw the jade tablet around. It’s disrespectful…”

Lu Huating continued to look ahead and asked, “Jian Su, can you smell anything from me?”

Jian Su sniffed and replied, “It smells like citrus?”

“It’s not citrus; it’s yellow vanilla,” Lu Huating said, his expression flat.

As Crown Prince, Li Xuan never wore any strong fragrance, preferring to maintain the dignified solemnity expected of the Eastern Palace. Even if it was a maid’s gift, there was little reason for him to wear it—unless it served a specific purpose, perhaps medicinal, as Lu Huating often used it.

Suddenly, Lu Huating realized that the Crown Prince’s supposed “illness” might also be the work of this “poison of lovesickness,” and that Qun Qing was well aware of how to alleviate it. Her methods were always calculated; perhaps this was how she’d won the Crown Prince’s favor. After all, her sachet had become her stepping stone.

It was possible that the Crown Prince’s poisoning was related to Qun Qing…

The thought of “Xiangsi Yin” tightened his fingers in his sleeve.

It was possible that the Crown Prince’s illness was indeed linked to Qun Qing…

The thought of this “lovesickness” caused Lu Huating’s fingers to tighten within his sleeve.

“Replace the evening incense with yellow fragrant grass starting tomorrow. I can’t wear this scent anymore,” Lu Huating instructed.

Fortunately, the Crown Prince rarely met with him, and today he’d left in a hurry, so he hadn’t noticed their shared scent.

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