The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 7

The next day, Song Qingqian still followed Song Lian into the palace.

“Your Majesty, Your Grace, this humble daughter greets you.”

“No need for such formalities,” Emperor Jing said with a smile, clearly surprised to see her in person.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Grace.”

As Song Qingqian raised her head, the emperor nodded approvingly. It was his first time meeting her, and he was visibly pleased—she was not only strikingly beautiful but also radiated intelligence and poise. She fit his expectations perfectly.

“Since you’ve come personally, Qingqian, I assume you have something you’d like to say to Us?”

“Your Majesty, my father has conveyed Your intentions to me, but I still have some concerns,” Song Qingqian replied, furrowing her brow as if troubled.

“Speak freely,” the empress said, even more eager than the emperor.

Emperor Jing glanced indulgently at the empress and smiled. “Yes, do speak freely.”

Song Qingqian remained composed and unhurried. “From ancient times, the husband has been the pillar of the wife. Yet the consort of a crown princess has little authority to restrain her. The women of the inner palace are often pliant and submissive, but I am of a more forthright temperament. I fear I might offend Her Highness and bring disgrace upon myself and my family.”

“Qingqian, don’t worry. Tang’er is merely playful—she means no harm,” the empress quickly defended her daughter.

Song Qingqian smiled faintly. “Your Grace is absolutely right. Still, serving royalty is akin to living alongside a tiger. I simply seek a way to ensure the safety of myself and my family. Otherwise, how could I dare to impose limits on Her Highness?”

“With Me here, both you and the Song family will be protected,” Emperor Jing vowed solemnly.

“I trust Your Majesty’s words. But forgive my boldness—what if, one day, Your Majesty and Your Grace are no longer here?” Song Qingqian asked without the slightest fear, her tone steady and direct.

“Qingqian, mind your words!” Song Lian broke into a cold sweat, spine stiff with shock.

Emperor Jing merely chuckled, intrigued. “Your point is not without merit. I assume you’ve come with terms, then?”

Song Qingqian knelt gracefully. “I humbly ask Your Majesty to grant me a few conditions.”

The emperor regarded her closely. Had she not raised any terms, he would’ve thought he had misjudged her. With a faint smile, he said, “Let’s hear them.”

“First, during the period in which I am to guide and restrain Her Highness, I hope that Your Majesty and Her Grace will always stand on my side.”

“Second, I ask that Your Majesty grant me real authority, even if it’s merely command over a small unit of shadow guards.”

“Third, if I ever overstep and offend Her Highness, let it be understood that it is a matter of expediency, and I ask Your Majesty for pardon.”

“Fourth,”—her tone sharpened subtly—“should the day come when I no longer wish to be Her Highness’s consort, I request the freedom to leave the palace of my own volition. No one shall obstruct me, nor shall the Song family be held responsible.” She placed deliberate emphasis on the words “no one,” leaving no doubt as to whom she meant.

Having spoken, Song Qingqian bowed deeply.

The emperor studied her thoughtfully. Compared to Song Lian, this daughter was far more astute. He smiled. “Is that all?”

Song Qingqian was momentarily taken aback. Among all those who had dared negotiate terms with the emperor, she might well be the first. Yet not only was he not displeased—he seemed even more amused.

“The first three requests are hardly worth mentioning,” the emperor said lightly. “As for the fourth—you merely ask that if there is no affection between you and Heng’er, you be allowed to leave. That is not unreasonable. I agree.

Whether Heng’er remains Crown Princess or ascends the throne, the choice to stay or leave shall be yours. As for the Song family, I promise you this: as long as they do not rebel or commit treason, no one shall harm them.”

He rose and walked to the center of the hall, helping her to her feet. “Furthermore, I grant you a gold token. With it, you may freely enter and exit the palace, and it grants you authority over the palace’s Kun-unit shadow guards. Will this suffice?”

Song Qingqian gave a calm smile. “I thank Your Majesty.”

The empress looked at the two of them, then stepped down from her seat and gently took Qingqian’s hand. “Very good. Qingqian, you needn’t worry so much. You haven’t met Tang’er yet, have you? Once you do,

I’m sure you’ll like her. I believe the two of you will be as harmonious as Your Majesty and I—truly well-matched.” At the very least, she thought, in terms of appearance, Xiao Beitang was quite outstanding.

Song Qingqian merely offered a polite smile. “Harmonious” was not something she dared hope for. Escaping intact would be a blessing. As for Xiao Beitang—she had met her before.

The emperor kept the father and daughter for lunch in the palace. By afternoon, the imperial edict was delivered to the Song residence by the prime minister himself. News spread quickly throughout the capital.

At the Baihua Pavilion, music and laughter filled the air, revelry in full swing.

Xiao Beitang pulled her robe off the rack and slipped it on.

“Leaving already, A-Tang?” Xiao Lin asked, lazily accepting a grape from the woman beside him and glancing out at the sunset. “It’s still early.”

“I’m leaving,” Xiao Beitang replied as she tossed her long hair out of the robe collar and picked up her folding fan, striding out without hesitation.

Xiao Wanqi, lying languidly in a woman’s arms, commented faintly, “Let her go. You know how she is—she always returns home before dark.”

Xiao Beitang gave a small laugh. “See you tomorrow.”

“Travel safely.”

She nodded and exited Baihua Pavilion.

Her horse galloped swiftly. Just as she reached the palace gates, Liuzi hurried to meet her, skillfully taking the reins as always. “Your Highness, you’ve returned.”

“Mm.” Xiao Beitang dismounted casually, brushing dust from her clothes and straightening her robe.

“His and Her Majesty are waiting for you at Zichen Palace,” Liuzi said quickly, pulling the horse away.

Xiao Beitang walked ahead unhurriedly, voice languid. “Did they say what for?”

She hadn’t caused any trouble recently—what could they want?

“You’ll know once you arrive,” Liuzi muttered, unwilling to say more.

She shot him a glance but didn’t press further, simply quickened her pace.

At Zichen Palace, the courtyard was filled with kneeling servants.

Xiao Beitang walked through them with growing irritation. She didn’t need to guess—clearly her mother was venting her anger at the servants because she hadn’t returned on time.

Inside the hall, Emperor Jing sat at the table, face grim. The empress sat beside her.

“Father Emperor, Father Emperor,” Xiao Beitang greeted lazily, kneeling.

“Tang—” the empress started, only to be cut off by the emperor’s sharp cough. She stopped herself immediately.

“Where have you been carousing this time?” the emperor demanded coldly.

“You know the answer, Mother Empress. Brothels, taverns, theaters—shall I go into detail?” Xiao Beitang’s tone was deliberately flippant.

“Tang’er, speak properly. Stop provoking your mother empress,” the empress gently admonished her, tugging lightly at the emperor’s sleeve in a plea for leniency.

“Yes.” Xiao Beitang responded listlessly, placing one leg forward to rise.

Her attitude reignited the emperor’s fury.

“Who told you to get up?” Emperor Jing snapped, brows furrowed.

Smirking, she knelt again. Seeing his displeasure gave her a strange satisfaction.

“Your mother and I have something to say. Stay kneeling,” he ordered, clearly annoyed by her nonchalance.

“Yes.” Xiao Beitang replied indifferently. She figured they’d just picked another tutor for her—this was the eighth time; she was used to it.

The emperor calmed himself, then spoke carefully. “You’re already sixteen. Your mother and I have selected a consort for you. The edict has been issued today. Once the Court Astronomer selects an auspicious date, you two will be wed.”

“What?” Xiao Beitang shot up in shock. “Married? Married to who?” She looked at the empress in bewilderment.

The emperor tried to soothe her. “Tang’er, don’t worry. Qingqian is a wonderful young woman. Your mother and I both like her very much. Once you meet, I’m sure you’ll feel the same.”

“Qingqian? Which Qingqian?” Xiao Beitang still couldn’t make sense of it—this wasn’t what she’d expected.

“The prime minister’s legitimate daughter, Song Qingqian. Your future consort,” Emperor Jing stated clearly.

Xiao Beitang’s expression darkened from confusion to a deep frown. “I refuse. Marry whomever you want—I won’t.”

“The decree has already been issued. This is not up to you,” the emperor said coldly, raising his voice.

Xiao Beitang looked to the empress, who gently patted the emperor’s leg and said with a smile, “Tang’er, we only want what’s best for you.”

Hearing this, Xiao Beitang let out a cold laugh. “What’s best for me? You made this decision without telling me. Am I just a puppet for you to control?”

“Tang’er, please calm down and let me explain—” the empress began.