The Prince Consort's Secret (GL) - Chapter 21

The next morning, when I awoke, I saw that Mu Han was already dressed and standing by the bed. I yawned, greeted her with a sleepy “Good morning,” then rolled out of bed and called for Yinger. Moments later, my four handmaidens and Mu Han’s attendants, Ling Yun and Ling Yue, entered quietly, serving their respective mistresses amidst an oddly tense atmosphere.

After washing up and finishing breakfast, Mu Han departed. Soon after, an envoy sent by my father arrived. I had no choice but to pull myself together and prepare for my month-long house arrest. To my surprise, the one assigned to teach etiquette wasn’t a stern old nanny like Mama Rong, but a woman who, though not young, was far from old.

The official teaching the arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—was a rather young palace maid. Since they weren’t the rigid, conservative type, I thought it’d be easy to get along with them.

But I was sorely mistaken. I had assumed that being a naturally refined person—eating quietly and chewing slowly—would mean passing etiquette lessons with ease. I was wrong. That Lin Gugu was extremely strict, watching my every move like a hawk and pointing out even the slightest missteps.

Only then did I realize: my walk was wrong, my sitting posture was wrong, my way of speaking was wrong—everything was wrong.

Thankfully, the arts classes in the afternoon were much more tolerable. I’ve always been interested in all things ancient; even if Father hadn’t arranged a teacher, I would’ve sought one out myself. Chess, however, gave me a headache—it was the one subject that made me drowsy.

The lessons ended at the close of the Shen hour (around 5 p.m.), which conveniently coincided with Mu Han’s return from court duties to teach me martial arts. It seemed Father had arranged it all with precision.

Today, however, Mu Han had gone to a banquet at the Prime Minister’s estate, so there were no martial arts lessons. I holed up in the study instead, repeatedly writing, “Dao begets One, One begets Two, Two begets Three, Three begets the myriad things,” while pondering how to deal with my current teachers. Mu Han was already under control. The young palace maid teaching the arts didn’t matter much. But that Lin

Gugu—how could I get her to go easier on me? Otherwise, I’d be stuck in this torturous routine indefinitely.

Threats were out of the question—she was assigned by my father. Framing her for theft to gain leverage? Too extreme for something so trivial. So what could I do?

After dinner, Mu Han returned with only a faint scent of wine and no sign of drunkenness. I still hadn’t come up with a solution. Lying in bed and continuing to think got me nowhere, so I decided to avoid the issue altogether for now—if I couldn’t win, I’d flee. I would just go to the palace every morning; surely she couldn’t stop me from visiting my father and mother. Resolving to do just that, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, once the carriage was ready, I set off for the palace. I went straight to the inner court and headed toward Mother’s Kunning Hall. After half an hour there, I realized I couldn’t just loiter around the Empress’s residence all morning.

I decided instead to spend the day at Yanfu Palace, then return to my mother’s place for lunch. As for Father—I had skipped etiquette lessons, so I was too embarrassed to face him directly.

Yanfu Palace was an independent complex, neither part of the outer court nor the inner harem. It was dedicated purely to leisure, with grand pavilions, artificial lakes, and decorative rock formations stretching endlessly.

I used to love wandering its paths, admiring the bronze sculptures of mythical beasts and exotic birds. Whenever I was tired or thirsty, I could always find a resting pavilion and have eunuchs and maids bring me tea and snacks—idyllic.

Passing Kunning Hall, I came upon a small artificial mountain made of stacked stones. I leisurely climbed it, and after some time, reached the summit. Turning around, I could see the sprawling palaces of Yanfu

Palace, one after another, in grand splendor. This was the highest point in the entire complex and quite close to the eastern gate leading out of the palace grounds. From here, I could even see the streets outside.

In the distance, I saw a troop of soldiers hastily moving down a busy street. They seemed to be on some urgent mission. After watching for a moment, I continued toward Cuiwei Hall, which stood at the mountaintop. I rested there briefly to warm up, then went back outside.

As I reached another hilltop, ready to descend, I caught sight of Father by the lakeside below, dressed in pale yellow robes and flanked by two officials. As usual, he was accompanied by a swarm of eunuchs, guards, and palace maids. The two officials were in dark red court dress. On closer inspection, one of them turned out to be Mu Han; the other I didn’t recognize.

I casually asked the eunuch beside me who the other official was. He replied that it was Du Ruo, a newly arrived officer assigned to take over defense duties in the capital from Ning Guangshi. That made sense—Du Ruo certainly looked more dependable than the sly and unserious Ning.

Scanning the area below, I saw the usual attendants going about their tasks. Everything seemed normal—too normal.

I smiled and turned to leave. Since Father was deep in conversation with his officials, I decided to wander elsewhere.

As I turned, I happened to glance sideways and saw that same group of soldiers rounding another corner, heading toward the eastern gate of Yanfu Palace. I frowned. Something felt off. I halted, prompting a palace maid beside me to ask, “What’s wrong, Your Highness?”

Before I could respond, the soldiers had already reached the eastern gate. Without hesitation, they drew their blades, and the sound of clashing steel rang out, followed by guards shouting, “Protect His Majesty!”

What?! Was this… a coup? I stared in disbelief as soldiers stormed through the gate, weapons flashing. Behind me, palace maids and eunuchs began to panic. I shouted for silence. These men had charged in too recklessly—this wasn’t a well-planned assassination.

I quickly turned back to look toward Father. His guards had already drawn their swords, forming a defensive line. Patrols rushed in from all directions. With the current number of guards—not to mention Du Ruo and the battle-capable Mu Han—the traitors stood no chance.

I breathed a sigh of relief. But just then, Du Ruo suddenly rushed forward, knelt before Father, and before I could react, sprang up again with a dagger gleaming in his hand.

My heart lurched.

But Mu Han had already stepped in front of Father, using her arm to block the dagger and grabbing the blade with her bare hand. Bl00d instantly stained the snow. Then she kicked Du Ruo hard in the ribs and hurled the dagger far away.

Only then did the guards come to their senses, quickly shielding the Emperor. The invading soldiers cut down any eunuch or maid in their path but didn’t engage the guards for long—dodging and fleeing instead, some rejoining Du Ruo’s fight near the Emperor.

The scene turned chaotic. Gone was the serene, leisurely atmosphere. Screams and clashing steel echoed around us. Two red-splattered figures fought furiously in the snow. Bl00d dripped steadily.

So Du Ruo was the assassin. But why attempt this right after arriving in the capital?

From my vantage point, I saw the battle’s tide turning. Though the enemy and the guards had similar numbers, our side had a fearsome warrior among them, cutting down enemies like wheat. Wherever he went, enemies fell screaming—or were struck dead before they could make a sound.

Meanwhile, Mu Han and Du Ruo were locked in an intense duel. Though I had always known Mu Han was skilled, she was still a woman facing a seasoned general with a fearsome reputation. I couldn’t help but worry for her.

But then I began to question: Why would Du Ruo carry out an assassination like this himself? Why not send a few fanatics willing to die? Why not use his 50,000-strong force to seize the palace outright?

The streets outside remained quiet. No signs of an advancing army. The court and harem were undisturbed. Clearly, Du Ruo’s troops hadn’t been mobilized.

I didn’t have time to ponder further. Down below, the fight neared its end. Mu Han had her foot on Du Ruo’s chest, with a dozen swords pointed at him. The danger was over.

Father hadn’t ordered mercy. Soon enough, the rebels were executed. The snow was stained red. The bodies of traitors, servants, and a few guards lay strewn about. Oddly, I wasn’t scared. If anything, my bl00d was boiling with exhilaration. What a thrill.

I looked toward the gates—still no reinforcements. Where were Du Ruo’s 50,000 soldiers?

Watching Father calmly give orders before walking off with a few guards, I suddenly realized: this “assassination” was planned by him all along.

The numbers, the method, the timing—everything was too suspicious. Why would Du Ruo throw away his best asset, his army? Unless… it wasn’t under his control anymore.

Father must have uncovered Du Ruo’s betrayal, but with him holding so much power, it was risky to move openly. So he summoned him to the capital, quietly took control of his army, and set the stage. With insufficient evidence for a trial, he baited Du Ruo into revealing himself.

And Mu Han—whose identity remains a mystery—was trusted with guarding the Emperor. Yet she proved herself. I clearly saw her shield Father with her own body and then disarm the attacker. Her loyalty was undeniable.

Whatever her origins, Mu Han is no enemy of the throne.

With that thought, I stood, ready to leave. Where to next? I figured Father was likely heading to the audience hall to deal with the aftermath. So I set off in that direction, toward Chongzheng Hall.