Please Call Me Your Highness (GL) - Chapter 9
The Emperor reclined lazily on a couch and said to the Empress, “Some have said that if Princess Ancheng’s daughter is qualified to inherit the throne, then Princess Xiucheng’s daughter should have the same right. After all, they are both my sisters—it would be unjust to favor one and not the other. So, I asked the Ji family for their opinion. Guess what? They also recommended Princess Ancheng’s daughter. Truly modest of them, don’t you think?”
Empress Ming paused mid-motion, halting the fan in her hand. “Is His Majesty suggesting that my Ming family has become too overbearing?”
The Emperor chuckled. “I was about to say that, but I feared it might trouble the Empress. Recently, the area outside Princess Ancheng’s estate has been bustling with visitors. Even Yanning and Muning couldn’t get through the gates.”
Empress Ming resumed gently waving her round fan. The hall was already cool; the fan served more as a decoration than for comfort. She replied, “I heard about that. Muning was absolutely furious—crying and throwing a tantrum. Quite undignified.”
The Emperor said, “Those two children have little else to do. They follow Prince Kangning to learn about military affairs, but lack the dedication. I’d like to reprimand them, but I’m afraid harsh words might be misunderstood and only stir unnecessary trouble. Empress, you’re kind-hearted—perhaps you could guide them properly.”
Displeased, Empress Ming retorted, “So His Majesty is suggesting, indirectly, that I lack propriety? If that’s the case, why not speak plainly?”
As she spoke, she tossed the fan at the Emperor, startling the nearby attendants.
The Emperor, however, was unfazed. He caught the fan, studied it for a moment, and said slowly, “The Empress truly values old memories. If I recall correctly, I gifted you this fan five years ago, didn’t I?”
Empress Ming huffed coldly, “His Majesty has quite the memory.”
Lately, their relationship had been warming again. These periodic reconciliations had a significant impact.
The Emperor casually fanned himself. “According to our dynasty’s customs, surname defines the right of inheritance. Though Zhexiu is excellent, she’s grown too accustomed to being a member of the Ming family. If an heir is to be adopted, it should be a younger one—raised from childhood to form a proper bond.”
The Empress remained silent, tacitly acknowledging the decision.
Nearby, the attending maids wished they could blindfold themselves and plug their ears. Court secrets and state affairs of this nature brought death closer with each revelation. Yet, there was no way to avoid it—they could only serve with utmost caution.
“The weather is getting hotter. It’s time to find a place to escape the heat. Empress, shall we go to Changyi Garden again this year?”
“I will follow His Majesty’s arrangements.”
“Bring the children along.”
In the seventh month of the tenth year of Xiuping’s reign, the royal entourage set out for Changyi Garden in the outskirts of the capital to escape the summer heat. As per tradition, they would stay until late autumn.
Dong Xiaoning had just been planning where to go for fun when she unexpectedly received orders to go to Changyi Garden. She joined the main procession and peeked out of the carriage window, seeing the now-empty streets—they had already been cleared.
Her initial excitement faded, replaced by boredom.
“Your Highness, please try this.” Xiao Fu offered a box of pastries.
“I’m not hungry.” Dong Xiaoning turned her head, looking disinterested, and closed her eyes to rest.
“Your Highness~” Xiao Fu leaned closer. “Just try a bite.”
“No.” Dong Xiaoning cracked one eye open, peering at her.
“But doesn’t Your Highness usually eat all the time?” Xiao Fu asked, feigning confusion.
“…!” Given their familiarity, Dong Xiaoning knew this girl was being deliberately mischievous. She opened both eyes and said, “You’ve gotten cheeky, Xiao Fu.”
“If Your Highness dislikes it now, I’ll put it away and wait until you’re in the mood again. I promise I’ll never mention that you once refused it.”
Xiao Fu’s beautiful eyes gleamed with mischief, making it hard to look away.
Dong Xiaoning found herself liking her all over again, though she still closed her eyes to rest.
This must be what they call “missing the moment,” she thought.
The grand procession arrived at Changyi Garden, a complex built in the style of southern gardens. The Emperor’s working quarters mirrored the solemn design of the imperial palace—though not as austere as the one in the capital, it still retained a dignified air with touches of liveliness.
Dong Xiaoning was assigned to Pingyu Pavilion, attended by Zhao Minxi and the same group who had accompanied her from Chengyou Hall. She didn’t mind—recruiting her own trusted attendants was too troublesome, and since these people did their jobs well enough, she let them continue.
After a brief period of adjustment, Dong Xiaoning grew accustomed to life in Changyi Garden. The weather here was a few degrees cooler than the capital, and the abundance of greenery led her to develop the habit of evening strolls. Watching the sun slowly set each day stirred deep emotions in her heart.
Her happy childhood seemed like something gone forever.
One evening, as usual, Dong Xiaoning was strolling through the garden. Her routes were random, but after a few incidents, she had come to instinctively avoid certain restricted areas—places she now knew could not be approached without specific orders.
Fortunately, the garden was large enough that her walks were not limited by the restricted areas.
“Xiao Fu, there’s a cat over there catching fish. Let’s go take a look,” Dong Xiaoning said as she quickened her pace toward it.
That part of the garden was designed with artificial mountains and a small waterfall, with a meandering stream stocked with ornamental fish. A large tabby cat crouched low in a hunting stance, eyes fixed intently on the water’s surface.
A small fish, about the size of a palm, swam leisurely toward the cat, completely unaware of the imminent danger.
Dong Xiaoning stopped at a distance where she wouldn’t disturb the hunt, watching with interest.
Xiao Fu didn’t dare even breathe loudly, her face tense as if she were the one trying to catch the fish.
The attendants sensibly kept their distance, none daring to approach or cause disruption.
Just as the cat was about to pounce, a stone suddenly splashed into the water, landing precisely between the fish and the cat.
Startled, the fish darted away, and the tabby cat leaped onto a nearby rock before disappearing into the artificial mountain.
Dong Xiaoning frowned, wondering who was so thoughtless. Looking up, she saw a group approaching, led by the Crown Princess Consort—who had recently given birth to a Zhongyong daughter. The one who threw the stone was clearly a noblewoman at her side, now casting a provocative glance in Dong Xiaoning’s direction.
Losing all desire to engage, Dong Xiaoning turned and walked away.
“Fourth Princess, that is the Crown Princess Consort. Do you not even show respect to your sister-in-law?” a voice called from behind.
Dong Xiaoning merely quickened her pace. The original owner of this body had no fondness for that sister-in-law—a memory ingrained in her very bones. And the current Dong Xiaoning, with just a glance, felt what sympathy she had vanish—just like the startled cat.
By rights, having lost the Crown Princess, the Crown Princess Consort should have been in mourning. Yet from what Dong Xiaoning had seen, she looked anything but sorrowful—radiant, even, as if newly wed.
As she watched Dong Xiaoning’s figure recede, Crown Princess Consort Ming Zheyin made no effort to stop her, raising a hand to silence those around her who wished to call out.
“I’ve heard that the Fourth Princess’s personality changed drastically upon her return. I thought it was exaggeration, but now I see it’s true.”
“Indeed, indeed. The former Fourth Princess was proud, yes, but she never lacked in proper etiquette. Now, she’s like some peasant girl from the countryside—completely lacking in manners.”
“Perhaps those years of exile on the island damaged her fundamentally. She’s forgotten how to behave.”
“No wonder people say our Zhexiu is more suited to inherit the throne. There’s truth in that.”
As the conversation grew more pointed, Crown Princess Consort Ming Zheyin finally spoke, “It’s getting late. Let’s head back.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The group soon returned to the Crown Princess Consort’s residence, where many members of the Ming family, led by Madam Ming, had already gathered. The Emperor had granted them permission to prepare for the upcoming hundred-day banquet for the Crown Princess Consort’s newborn—a lively celebration to ward off sorrow.
Madam Ming looked at the baby swaddled in cloth and couldn’t help but remark, “This child’s fate is bitter—born without a mother. If only she were a Qianyuan, there’d still be hope of inheriting the throne. But as a Zhongyong…”
The sudden, cold comment rang through the hall. While such things might be whispered privately, to say them aloud was truly insensitive.
Prince Consort Ming Yuzhou’s face went pale. “Mother!” he cried, alarmed. In such a moment, even words of caution felt difficult to voice.
Yet the Crown Princess Consort’s expression remained unchanged, as if she were long used to this.
Madam Ming was unbothered and continued, “When this child’s aunt ascends the throne, she can be granted the title of prince or princess, and still live a good life.”
Princess Ancheng, who had accompanied them, could no longer remain silent. “Mother, that’s incorrect. In Great Yu, the royal surname determines succession. Familial titles distinguish closeness. A person of the same surname is a royal aunt or grandmother; a different surname makes one a maternal aunt or grandmother. Only someone with the same surname can inherit the throne—this child’s royal aunt, not her maternal aunt.”
Madam Ming blinked as if suddenly recalling this and showed no sign of embarrassment. “Ah, yes, yes, this old woman was too happy and got confused. Good child, when your Aunt Zhexiu becomes ruler, she’ll grant you a princely title. Won’t that be nice?”
At that moment, the baby suddenly cried out, cutting off the dangerous conversation but casting a shadow over what had been a cheerful gathering.
Princess Ancheng seized the moment to pull her husband, Ming Yuzhou, away.
The Crown Princess Consort spent a long time soothing the infant before she finally calmed. By then, the guests had lost the mood for conversation and began to take their leave. Madam Ming, supported by family and led by palace attendants, made her way toward the garden’s exit.
As they passed Pingyu Pavilion, Madam Ming suddenly stopped and asked a palace servant, “This place used to be empty during the summer retreats. Who’s living here now?”
The servant glanced over and replied, “The Fourth Princess.”
Madam Ming’s eyes lit up. “That disgrace has been back for so long and hasn’t even paid respects to me, her elder. I heard she was also disrespectful to the Crown Princess Consort earlier. She has no regard for anyone! Perfect. It’s time I taught that wretch a lesson.”