The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 6

The Next Day, Quingqian Palace

Emperor Jing waved his hand to dismiss the attendants and gave Prime Minister Song Lian a meaningful glance.

“Prime Minister, there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

“Please speak, Your Majesty,” Song Lian replied, though his eyelids twitched, and unease filled his heart.

Emperor Jing wore a troubled expression and sighed softly. “The Crown Princess is sixteen this year. I believe it’s time to choose a consort for her.”

“This is a joyous matter. Appointing the Minister of Rites to select a suitable match should suffice. Does Your Majesty have concerns?”

Emperor Jing glanced at him and sighed heavily. “The choice of the Crown Princess’s consort concerns the very foundation of the state. After much deliberation, I find only one person suitable—but I fear it would be forcing their hand.”

He shook his head and said no more.

“Under heaven, all land belongs to the Emperor. Why the hesitation, Your Majesty?” Song Lian pondered briefly, then asked in surprise, “Could it be that the one Your Majesty favors is already betrothed?”

The Emperor paused, then replied, “You overthink, Prime Minister. I would never act in such a way.”

“Then, might I ask whom Your Majesty has in mind? If there are difficulties, I am willing to help ease Your Majesty’s burden.”

The Emperor’s eyes lit up as he looked at him. “Do you truly mean that?”

Unaware of the trap he was walking into, Song Lian bowed with a solemn expression. “This matter concerns the foundation of our Great Yu. I am willing to share Your Majesty’s burden.”

“With those words, I am relieved.” The Emperor stood straighter. “I intend to appoint your daughter, Song Qingqian, as the Crown Princess Consort.”

Song Lian froze, utterly stunned—his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“This…” he stammered, clearly flustered and at a loss for words.

He realized too late that he had talked himself into a corner. Refusing now would be deeply awkward.

He hesitated and said, “Your Majesty, my daughter is six years older than the Crown Princess. She is not gentle or pliant in temperament—I fear she may not be a suitable match.”

The Emperor sighed again, a long and heavy breath. “To be honest with you, Prime Minister, I had intended to wait another two years before choosing a consort for Tang’er. But she’s grown unruly—idling outside the palace day after day, shirking her studies and duties. I only managed to persuade the Empress after much effort to allow me to choose a virtuous wife for her—to restrain and guide her.”

Song Lian asked, “But even if a consort is chosen, if Your Majesty cannot control Her Highness, how can a consort hope to do so?”

Emperor Jing’s tone turned eager. “I’ve thought this through. After the wedding, Qingqian will serve as an instructor at the Imperial Academy. I plan to send Tang’er and her unruly companions there as well. I’ve heard that Qingqian is remarkably adept at reforming wayward nobles.”

Song Lian furrowed his brows, remaining silent.

The Emperor’s tone softened with sincerity. “Song Ling, I do not wish to confine Qingqian to the inner palace. I recognize her talent and learning. Her essays written as a teenager were astonishing—she possesses the capacity to govern and bring prosperity.

As Crown Princess Consort, she could educate the Crown Princess, fulfill her ambitions, and let her brilliance shine. It would benefit both the throne and the Song family.”

Still, Song Lian remained silent. The Emperor likely wasn’t lying—but knowing Qingqian’s temperament, would she agree to this? Being the tutor to Xiao Beitang was no easy feat.

Seeing the worry on his minister’s face, Emperor Jing added casually, “I’ve heard Qingqian’s brother, Qingxu, is about to enter government service. You’ve raised them well, Prime Minister. If both siblings can help lighten my burden, that would be a great merit to you.”

Song Lian’s heart sank. His brows tightened further.

Song Qingxu, his eldest son, had taken the imperial examination eight times already. Competing alongside the talented candidates from the Qianyuan class left him at a great disadvantage.

Yet, a single imperial decree could bring all his hard work to fruition—or shatter it entirely.

The Emperor rose, his expression grave. “You are the backbone of this nation. I don’t wish for a single decree to create discord between ruler and subject. Go home and speak with Qingqian. If you or she have concerns, you may bring them to me or the Empress. Tomorrow, I will await your reply.”

He paused by Song Lian’s side and lowered his voice.

“Do not disappoint me.”

“Prepare the carriage. We’re going to Kunning Palace,” he said, then turned and left.

Only Song Lian remained, stunned and speechless in the hall. After a long while, he finally regained his senses. His vision dimmed, his mind muddled, and he stumbled out of the palace like a soul lost, returning to the prime minister’s residence in silence.

When he arrived, he said not a word and went straight to his study, locking himself inside. He didn’t even touch his midday meal.

That evening, Madam Song, seeing he was still locked inside and refused to come out, went to call Qingqian—knowing her husband had always listened to their daughter.

Song Qingqian brought a meal to the study and gently knocked on the door.

“Father, I’ve brought you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry. Take it away,” came his weary reply.

“Father, won’t you open the door first?” Qingqian noticed his tone was off and grew worried. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just… let me be alone for a while.”

“You’ve been alone all day!” Clearly, it wasn’t “nothing.”

“If you won’t open the door, I’ll have to kick it down.” She stepped back and took a stance.

She wasn’t bluffing. Song Lian rose and opened the door from within, not even looking at her as he turned and walked back inside, his face full of helplessness.

Qingqian entered, softly shut the door behind her, placed the food on the table, and walked up to him with concern.

“Father, what’s going on?”

Song Lian let out a long sigh and recounted everything the Emperor had said.

“So… His Majesty is threatening you with my brother?”

“Qingqian, both of you are my flesh and bl00d. This pains me deeply. Your brother… he’s had such a hard time.” Song Lian sighed over and over.

As a chancellor, he could make swift and resolute decisions. But as a father, his heart could not be made of stone.

Qingxu wasn’t striving merely for office—if he couldn’t gain a position, he likely couldn’t be with the one he loved.

After a brief silence, Qingqian said, “Father, let me go with you to the palace tomorrow and give His Majesty our reply.”

Song Lian tensed. “You want to answer him yourself?”

Calmly, Qingqian said, “Since His Majesty wants me to restrain the Crown Princess, then he must agree to my terms. Otherwise, even with a decree, I’d be nothing more than a Crown Princess Consort in name.”

Song Lian nodded. Then he asked, “If the Emperor agrees to all your conditions, are you truly willing to accept the position?”

Qingqian sighed. “Father, you know I’m not content. But perhaps… this is my only chance.”

He let out another sigh. “If that’s the case, whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, Father.” A smile touched her lips. “Now, please eat something.”

“I don’t agree.” The study door opened—Song Qingxu entered, his voice full of rage.

The two were startled at first. Seeing it was Qingxu, they both looked awkward.

“Brother, you heard everything?”

“Qingqian, you don’t have to do something you don’t want to for my sake.” He strode up and placed his hands on her shoulders.

She replied gently, “Brother, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for myself.”

Qingxu frowned, clearly unconvinced.

She smiled faintly. “Have I ever lied to you?”

He was half convinced, half doubtful.

“Trust me, brother.”

He spoke with resignation. “If it’s truly for yourself, I won’t stop you. But if it’s for me, then don’t. Wan’er is already engaged—to the son of Prince Cheng, a good-for-nothing Qianyuan…”

His eyes grew cold and bitter. “Just because he’s Qianyuan.”

“Brother…”

Song Lian sighed. “Lord Wang has made things difficult time and again. I saw it long ago. He’s only held back out of respect for me. Qingxu, you must let go of this.”

“Father, I know. I just… I can’t accept it. Wan’er and I love each other, yet because I’m not Qianyuan, we’re to be torn apart?”

His expression turned fierce.

Qingqian could feel his pain, but she didn’t know how to comfort him.

“Qingqian, I’ve said what I needed to. If you’re doing this for me—don’t. I pursued office for Wan’er. Now, whether I enter service or not… it no longer matters.”

Qingqian nodded gently, watching his desolate figure walk away, her heart aching for him.