On the eighth day of the seventh lunar month, the King issued a royal decree appointing Prince Fu Lu as the Imperial Inspector to Henan. He was tasked with overseeing the autumn harvest, the people's livelihood, and various military and political affairs in the region.
In the royal court, Shen Tingyao presented his reasons with grandiloquent flair. "You are, after all, direct imperial kin of our Great Ying. Now that you have married and established your own household, you cannot remain idle forever. Prepare yourself well; you shall depart in two days."
The young Prince returned to the Prince Fu Lu Estate with Xiao He. He Jian came forward to meet them. "Ninth Highness, I heard the King has issued a transfer order, commanding you to inspect Henan?"
The Prince nodded. "Xiao He, prepare some water. I wish to bathe."
Xiao He acknowledged the command and went to make preparations. Only then did He Jian’s expression turn urgent. "Ninth Highness, this journey is dangerous!"
Shen Tingjiao raised a hand to cut him off. "Even if it is dangerous, I cannot defy a royal decree. How is... the Dowager Consort’s side?"
He Jian looked anxious. "Ninth Highness, if we were in Chang'an, he would have to maintain some semblance of decorum and would not dare to strike openly. But once you leave the imperial city, the mountains are high and the roads are long. If too many of our people follow you out, he will surely become suspicious... As for the Dowager Consort... I fear she is also powerless to help."
Shen Tingjiao entered the room with him and sat at the table, taking a sip of tea. "It matters not. Such a headache is best left for the Princess Consort to worry about."
He Jian was about to speak further when the sound of footsteps approached. Xiao He had returned, leading several maidservants. The young Prince then went to his bath, and the matter was dropped for the moment.
Yin Zhuli did not return until evening. Naru, a purchasing official from the Persian Palace, had returned to Great Ying and spent a considerable amount of time with her. She possessed a keen interest in foreign cultures, and the two of them had been engrossed in conversation for most of the day.
On the way back, Chief Steward Hao expressed some concern. "Chief, truth be told, you should not associate too closely with Naru. You are now a Princess Consort of Great Ying, and Naru is a man of the Persian Palace. Although there is no war between our two nations at present, things may change in the future. I worry that someone might use this to spread rumors and stir up trouble, which could lead to suspicions of colluding with the enemy."
Yin Zhuli patted his shoulder. "Why do you think I bother dealing with Shen Tingyao?" She smiled, her expression as fluid as willow silk. "Whether it is a golden house or a prison cell, it all depends on a single word from those above."
By the time she returned to the estate, Shen Tingjiao had already finished washing. He was leaning against a daybed in the study, dressed in a white silk robe, reading a book as he was wont to do. After changing her clothes, Yin Zhuli naturally came to find him. "Have you eaten?"
He stretched, placing the book on a low table. His voice was clear and pleasant. "This Prince was waiting for you."
Yin Zhuli ordered the maidservants to bring dinner and stepped forward to pick him up. In the sweltering heat of midsummer, he wore nothing beneath his light, thin robes. As she held him in her arms, the skin beneath the fabric felt incredibly smooth to the touch. Her heart stirred slightly, and she pressed a light kiss near his ear. He curled into her embrace like a cat, his index finger tracing circles on her clothes. "Zhuli, Imperial Brother wants me to go on an inspection tour of Henan."
Yin Zhuli paused, her arm looping over his slender shoulders. "Mhm. The weather has been favorable this year; the harvests for grain, mulberry, and hemp should be good. Henan is not far from Chang'an. It just so happens I can accompany you and check on the stock in our shops there."
The maidservants brought in the dishes. Yin Zhuli placed him in a chair, but suddenly, someone arrived from outside to report. "Chief! The workers from Fei’s Establishment have gotten into a fight with our men at the docks!"
Yin Zhuli continued to serve food to the young Prince, her voice indifferent. "Who won?"
The servant hesitated for a moment before answering. "Reporting to the Chief, we had more men, but Foreman Ying, who was in charge of loading and unloading, was injured. And... and..." He gritted his teeth and finished in one breath, "Three of our workers are dead!"
Yin Zhuli slammed her chopsticks onto the table. The servant lowered his head, yet his face remained flushed with indignation as he continued, "Chief, it was the Young Master of the Fei family who started the fight! Their ships were blocking ours, refusing to unload for the longest time. Our ship was carrying fresh fish and seafood; it was trapped in the hold all day under the scorching sun. Seeing that most of the catch was dying, Foreman Ying went to reason with them!"
Yin Zhuli stopped eating and stood up. "Prepare the horses."
Shen Tingjiao immediately stood as well. "I’m going too!"
Yin Zhuli looked at him for a long moment before finally answering, "Fine."
The docks at night were still bustling with noise. Yin Zhuli dismounted while holding Shen Tingjiao, seeing the grim bloodstains still marking the ground. Several corpses were covered from head to toe with heavy canvas. She shielded Shen Tingjiao behind her, leaned down to lift a corner of the canvas, and took a look. Her face remained expressionless.
The workers gathered around, noisily recounting the events. Fei Dingyu, the heir of the Fei family, was also there, surrounded by several guards, clearly fearing that Yin Zhuli might strike. Yin Zhuli did not even attempt to argue with him. After a while, the sound of galloping hooves echoed from the distance. Everyone turned to see Tang Yin approaching on horseback. Seeing that Yin Zhuli was unharmed, he let out a slight sigh of relief. "You talk to him. If there is to be a fight, your Master will handle it."
A stir went through the crowd at these words. The docks were filled with laborers; who among them could truly withstand a few moves from a man like him? If a fight truly broke out, the place would likely become a river of blood.
However, Yin Zhuli could not allow the two groups to clash again. They were all merchants seeking profit. If they wanted to risk their lives, they might as well become bandits; why bother with trade? Moreover, Chang'an was the capital, the very foot of the Son of Heaven. How could she truly kill the heir of the prominent Fei’s Establishment in broad daylight?
She spoke in a low, firm voice to the dock manager, Ying Dezheng. "Contact the families of the dead and injured. Give each of the deceased one thousand taels for funeral expenses, and five hundred taels to each of the injured."
Another stir rippled through the crowd. Some who weren't even injured suddenly felt their heads and feet beginning to ache. She then stepped forward to inspect the ships at the dock. Seeing that the fish and shrimp in the holds were indeed mostly dead, a cold sneer touched her lips. "Ying Dezheng, tomorrow, dig a pit and bury this entire batch of seafood."
Ying Dezheng was shocked. "Chief, this... this is all silver!"
Yin Zhuli’s voice was cold. "The Yin family has been merchants for seven generations, and we rely on a single word: Integrity. Since we promised the restaurants fresh shrimp and live fish, we will never allow a single dead fish into their kitchens."
Ying Dezheng lowered his brow slightly. "Chief, if we do this, considering today's events alone, we will lose over a hundred thousand taels of silver."
Seeing that the wound on his head had only been hastily bandaged, Yin Zhuli’s tone softened slightly. "It is fine. Send people to handle it. And go have your wound properly dressed; a head injury is no small matter. Be careful."
Ying Dezheng acknowledged her and hurried off to see to the tasks. Only then did Yin Zhuli turn her gaze toward Fei Dingyu. "Young Master Fei, debts of money are easily repaid, but debts of life are hard to settle." She leaned in close to Fei Dingyu with a smile and whispered, "Why did you have to strike so ruthlessly, Young Master Fei? Did they kill your father or fuck your mother?"
Fei Dingyu flew into a rage. He grabbed her collar and threw a punch at her right cheek. Fei Dingyu had studied martial arts, but with Yin Zhuli’s skills, she could have easily avoided it. He had prepared himself to be pulled away, to be hit back by Yin Zhuli, or even by Tang Yin. Thus, when his fist actually connected with her face, even he found it hard to believe.
"How bold! To dare strike a member of the imperial family!" The Prefect of Chang'an, who arrived just then, was not so easy to deal with. "Take this man, along with all those involved in the riot, back to the yamen!"
This was a prime opportunity to line his pockets. Fei’s Establishment was a household with mountains of gold and silver; he would work extra hard to make the Fei family bleed money, while simultaneously currying favor with Yin Zhuli. Why wouldn't he?
Shen Tingjiao was already fuming with rage. "You bastard! How dare you strike this Prince’s consort? I shall have your entire clan executed!"
Yin Zhuli patted his head, then turned and gave Tang Yin a knowing smile. Tang Yin looked at her cheek and frowned slightly. He pulled a jar of ointment from his waist and began to rub it into her face to dissolve the bruising. "It will likely swell later. How will you see anyone for the next few days?"
Yin Zhuli allowed his fingertips, coated in the cool ointment, to massage her cheek, showing no sign of discomfort. "Some have given their lives; what is it for Zhuli to give up a bit of face?"
Shen Tingjiao stood beside her. He knew Yin Zhuli disliked being touched by others, yet she seemed long accustomed to such intimacy with this man.
*Could it be that this person is Tang Yin?*
*But how is that possible? They are master and disciple...*
As he was lost in thought, Yin Zhuli draped an arm over his shoulder. "Alright, let’s go back. Tomorrow, you must accompany me into the palace."
Shen Tingjiao nodded slightly, leaning into her embrace, but his gaze remained fixed on Tang Yin as the man rode away. Tang Yin was a renowned scholar of Chang'an, skilled in painting and calligraphy, and possessed extraordinary martial prowess. In his younger years, he had been deeply in love with Yin Biwu. After her death from illness, he had remained with the Yin family, serving as Yin Zhuli’s private tutor.
He had originally thought Yin Zhuli viewed him as a father figure, but with a man of such character, it was entirely possible. Although loving one's teacher violated social ethics, Yin Zhuli was a dissolute creature to begin with; when had she ever cared for such things?
His thoughts whirled until, suddenly, a sweetness filled his mouth. Yin Zhuli had popped a piece of candy into it. "Sit properly. You haven't eaten anything all evening; we must return to the estate quickly."
He nodded and pressed his face against her chest, falling silent.
Behind them, Chief Steward Hao had arrived at the docks. Ying Dezheng had found men and was preparing to find a place to dig the pit. Hao rapped him sharply on the head with his abacus. "Fool! A matter like
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