After Transmigrating into a Novel, I Turned on Easy Mode - Chapter 10

Seven days had passed since the assassination attempt at the Hundred Flowers Banquet. The streets were plastered with sketches of the masked assailant, but since her veil hadn’t been ripped off that day, no one knew what that reckless woman actually looked like.

The attacker was petite—matching the build of the jianghu-famous thief Jiang Hong. Officials in charge made Jiang Hong a prime target, even searching Zuihong Lou top to bottom, but turned up nothing.

In the palace, His Majesty sat in the Zichen Hall reading memorials. He was forty-two this year. Perhaps because he had few offspring, there had been no bl00d-kin tragedies of brothers fighting for the throne.

Of Daxin’s three emperors so far, the current one was the most lenient and benevolent. At the moment, this kindly emperor held a memorial with a faint frown, worry clouding his eyes.

From outside the hall, the Empress saw him thus. She raised a hand to stop the little eunuch from announcing her, hinting for quiet. Taking a bowl of white-fungus and lotus-seed soup from a palace maid, she entered and set it gently on the imperial desk.

The soft clink of porcelain on wood drew the emperor from his thoughts. Seeing the Empress, his face brightened with a smile. He set the memorial down, lifted the soup, and sipped. “Wan’er’s skill is as fine as ever. Still tastes just the same.”

The Empress laughed lightly. “How does Your Majesty know I made it? What if I didn’t?”

“Every autumn Wan’er brings Zhen this soup. It’s not the same as what comes from the imperial kitchens.”

They shared a smile. Rumor had it the imperial couple were harmonious—no act there.

When he finished, the Empress had the bowl taken away. Remembering the crease she’d seen between his brows, she asked, “Why does Your Majesty fret? Is it the banquet assassin?”

He frowned again and sighed. “No. We’ve weathered too many storms on the road here. That assassination may look dire, but it’s a small matter.”

“Then what troubles Your Majesty?”

He rubbed his brow. “The border. The banquet attack reminded Zhen of a few things.”

Curiosity pricked the Empress. “What sort of things?”

Seeing her interest oddly lightened his mood. “Has the Empress heard the recent palace gossip?”

Gossip? She thought a moment, then her eyes lit. “Your Majesty means the business with General Wu’s daughter and Zhao Qingzi?”

“Mm. That very thing. The banquet’s greatest gain may well be this. That Wu You’s martial skill is impressive; if Zhen could have her serve in the army, so much the better.”

The Empress frowned. “So Your Majesty intends to use Zhao Qingzi to lure her? But General Wu may not agree.”

At that, the emperor thought of Wu Zhan: loyal, capable, wholly devoted to the frontier. In everything he was excellent—except that on the matter of his daughter joining the army he was immovable, refusing to the death.

The emperor cherished talent; in truth, he’d had his eye on Wu You for some time. Back when she fancied Zhang Boyu, His Majesty had even sounded out the Marquis of Chang’an’s opinion in secret; learning it was inadvisable, he’d dropped the notion.

Now, seeing how often Wu You and Zhao Qingzi were together—perhaps it might work.

That day he’d written the marriage proposal on a slip and given it to Wu You, offering a clear choice. But seven days had gone by with no word.

He sighed again. “Wan’er is right. General Wu will be hard to convince. When he next returns to the capital, Zhen’ll speak with him. And how is that girl Yingying lately? She was furious when Zhen brought her back from the banquet early.”

Seeing his weariness, the Empress stepped forward to massage his temples. Hearing him ask after that wild thing, she smiled. “She’s fine. You know how she is—temper flares and fades fast. Sixteen already, and still like an ungrown child.”

A touch of impatience showed in the emperor’s face. “Enough. Let the girl caper as she likes. I hear she and Zhang Boyu get on. If she marries him, there’s some use in it.”

The Empress blinked, but said no more.

Meanwhile, the subject of their talk, Li Yingying, had already slipped out of the palace and headed straight for the Marquis of Chang’an’s estate.

She’d pulled this stunt plenty of times. The emperor and empress mostly turned a blind eye. The little princess prided herself on changing methods each time, thinking herself very clever—yet the imperial couple knew her every move.

She stood by the side gate of the marquisate, saw red ribbons tied to the courtyard bamboo, and brightened.

Clearing her throat, she meowed like a cat: “Miaow~”

This was Li Yingying and Zhang Boyu’s special signal. If red ribbon adorned the bamboo, Zhang Boyu was home; meow at the side gate, and he’d come out to meet her.

They’d resorted to this after she’d first come through the front gate to invite him out and the old marquis had hauled her back to the palace—both of them ended up confined.

After a few meows, with no sign of her beloved, Li Yingying grew annoyed. She’d spent no little effort sneaking out today to see him—only to be disappointed.

She stomped, unwilling to accept it, but there was nothing for it; she had to go back. Kicking pebbles as she went, she pouted, her face practically stamped with “I am very angry.”

“Jerk! Liar! You said you’d wait and play with me…”

The more she thought, the angrier and more aggrieved she felt. She kicked the pebble hard, as if it were Zhang Boyu— and sent it flying to smack into Zhao Qingzi’s wheelchair.

Zhao Qingzi glanced at the stone skittering over, then at the yellow-robed girl frowning and pouting.

What a coincidence—running into this silly thing here. She pressed her lips together, a bit displeased.

How does gege even like this fool? In my view, she and Zhang Boyu are a match; gege is proper—he’d never manage with someone this rowdy.

Still, since he likes her, I’ll help him fight for her—try to make opportunities. The thought pricked a pang of vexation: of all people to like, this silly girl had to pick his most important friend, which made it hard for Zhao Qingzi indeed.

Li Yingying spotted her by the road and lit up, beaming. “Biaojie!”

Zhao Qingzi smiled gently. “Why are you out today, Yingying? Did you have your jiujiu’s permission?”
(TN: biaojie = older female cousin on the maternal side; jiujiu = maternal uncle, i.e., the emperor.)

At that, Li Yingying’s gaze darted. “Of course Father Emperor allowed it. Why is Biaojie out today? It’s hard for you to go out.”

In truth, Zhao Qingzi had been headed toward the General’s residence, but she didn’t tell Li Yingying that—only said she was out for air.

“Then take me along! I’m bored—and with Biaojie I’ll have someone to talk to.”

Zhao Qingzi nodded lightly. Li Yingying snatched the wheelchair from the maid and pushed her forward.

“Don’t lie to me, cousin. Let me guess—you snuck out to see Young Master Zhang, didn’t you?”

Li Yingying flustered at once. “N-no! Don’t talk nonsense, Biaojie!”

As they went, she suddenly realized something was off—this wasn’t the direction of that annoying person’s house? A bit of gossip surfaced.

Could it be that Biaojie and that annoying person really had something? Thinking back, at the banquet they’d sat together, hadn’t they?

Eyes round, hands over her mouth.

Feeling the wheelchair stop abruptly, Zhao Qingzi turned, puzzled—only to see the girl’s shocked face.

“What is it? Do you feel unwell?”

Snapping out of it, Li Yingying looked at the gentle girl in the chair—then remembered all the times that annoying person had tripped her up.

It felt… complicated. “Where is Biaojie going?”

Zhao Qingzi considered and decided there was no need to hide it. “To the General’s residence to visit Miss Wu. Why?”

Li Yingying couldn’t name how she felt. “Does Biaojie know what ‘liking’ is?”

At the word “like,” the little princess couldn’t help thinking of Zhang Boyu.

His grandfather, the Marquis of Chang’an, had been a veteran who fought at Gaozu’s side—a true pillar of the realm. Even Father Emperor had to give him face.

So when Zhang Boyu was small, he often came to the palace to play with the princes. I was naughty as a child—climbing trees, stealing birds’ nests, all of it.

Father Emperor indulged me; even when I went too far, he only scolded me lightly, so I grew even more unscrupulous.

Once, I fell from a lakeside tree while snatching a nest. Just when I thought I’d drown, Zhang Boyu jumped in and saved me. After that we often played together, and slowly… other thoughts came.

Watching the girl sink into memories, Zhao Qingzi asked softly, “Then, in your view, what qualifies as liking?”

Li Yingying answered with utmost seriousness, “If you love someone, you think of them often; you care about their feelings; you can’t help wanting to see them. It’s never a whim.”

That’s it? Zhao Qingzi mused. That did match her own feelings—so Wu You must also be thinking of me all the time.

Pink bubbles rose in her heart; the urge to see that person swelled stronger.

Unaware she’d produced the opposite effect, Li Yingying kept lecturing earnestly: “The sort who loves a new one every time—she’s not fated to be a good match.”

That sat ill with Zhao Qingzi. “Passing Fojinyun just now, I thought I saw Young Master Zhang inside choosing jewelry with someone.”

At that, Li Yingying dropped her cousin’s business completely and ground out, “And the other person—man or woman?”

A sly light flashed in Zhao Qingzi’s eyes. She put on a thoughtful look. “Seemed like a woman? I’m not certain.”

She hadn’t finished before Li Yingying charged off toward Fojinyun like a little whirlwind.

This silly girl is easy to fool, Zhao Qingzi thought.

Then she had the maid push her on toward the General’s residence.