Chapter 152: Imperial Match

"Shen family's daughter?" The prince blinked, then exclaimed, "Shen Miao?"
Fu Xiuyi smiled, silent.
"No." The prince shook his head. "General's treasure—undecided match—why send her to the Eastern Palace? And—" he teased—"Dingjing knows she once fancied you—I can't steal her heart."
Fu Xiuyi laughed. "Childish talk—years cold as strangers to me."
The prince thought—true—yet said, "Maybe your coldness angered her."
"Don't jest, Brother. Shen house is no match I'd dare climb—I prefer a quiet wife. Better—" serious—"why not let Father decide? Parents' order, matchmaker's word—imperial decree solves all."
"Father?"
"Father loves you most—wants your strength. Desire Fifth Miss—he'll bless it. One edict—done."
"Too simple." The prince shook his head. "Forced fruit sours. If she hates it—resentment—General angry—foe not kin."
"Why think so?" Fu Xiuyi looked surprised. "Women want safe splendor. Eastern Palace—not principal consort, yet high. You ascend—she rises. You're gentle—kindness wins hearts. Look at sister-in-law—decree marriage—now devoted."
The prince wavered—his consort had resisted, now loyal.
"Marry chicken, follow chicken—treat her well—she follows. You're a dragon among men—what woman won't yield?"
The prince flushed, waved off praise. Cups clinked—warm brotherhood.
Deep night—Fu Xiuyi gone—the prince's drunk mask fell clear.
An aide emerged. "Your Highness—Ninth Prince's words?"
"Peach theft by sleight." The prince sipped. "Bold—Father suspects him—yet he courts me. We underestimated him."
"Marry Shen Miao—agree?"
Eyes flashed. "Heart unclean—plan usable. I need Shen force. Good piece—take her. Pretty—coaxing suffices."
"Decided?"
He touched the wine pot. "I'll tell Father in days. Credit Ninth Brother if it succeeds."
As Fu Xiuyi foresaw, the prince spoke soon. Wenhui neither yes nor no—studied his son—smiled. "Some growth at last. I'll consider."
Alone Wenhui told Su, "Prince wants Shen Miao—I didn't expect."
"Fine maiden—good eye."
"Spare me." Wenhui scoffed. "Ninth pointed the road—meaning?"
Su stayed silent—royal family—touch death.
"Still—I'll bolster the prince. Zhou and Li scorn me; Ninth I can't read. Shen behind him balances Zhou–Li—controls Shen's blades—saves me work. However—" he closed a book, stood. "To Kunning Palace."
At Shen Manor a palace summons—tomorrow mother and daughter—bewildered Luo Xueyan. Shen Xin knew nothing. They hid fear from Shen Miao.
She couldn't relax. Fu's house never called without aim. No word from Pei Lang lately—was he silenced—Fu Xiuyi found him?
Since Putuo's mad taoist, her mind wouldn't settle—who was the dragon helper—who bought rebirth—no answer—only restlessness.
She opened the closed window—cold night—Congyang rose from the wall. "Seeking master?"
Startled, annoyed. "No."
"Master's away from Dingjing—don't wait."
"Air—only air." Pause. "If I enter palace—can you come?"
He blinked, ashamed. "Not palace-born—no hiding—likely found."
She lowered eyes—if he couldn't hide, no point. Palace wouldn't strike openly with Luo Xueyan there. "Nothing."
"Messages—I carry to master," he added.
She slammed the window shut—master and man—never listen!
At Rui Manor Gao Yang and Ji Yushu studied a defense map dense with marks.
A guard: "Fifth Miss enters palace tomorrow—letter for His Highness?"
"Why?" Ji asked.
Guard didn't know.
Ji sighed. "Busy with maps—neglected watch—Third Brother returns—we're dead. Palace news?"
"Nothing serious—no Congyang alarm—don't distract him. We block if needed."
Ji muttered, "Risky—if he asks, I'll blame you."
Next day Shen Miao followed Luo Xueyan in.
Each entry brought trouble. Luo Xueyan tensed; Shen Miao was used to ill intent from the throne—almost calm.
They were led to Kunning Palace.
Empress on the seat—beside her plain, gentle Consort Dong—Fu Xiuyi's mother.
Shen Miao's chest tightened.
Empress—crown prince's mother—routine marriage with Wenhui; rich girl, smooth life, all care on sick son—little appetite for harem war. Yet she never beat quiet Dong.
Dong stayed aside like her son—watched others bleed—sometimes nudged disaster—borrowed knives, diverted floods. No one played better.
If Consort Mei was loud evil, Dong was smile and blade. Mother-in-law and Mei admired each other.
Shen Miao knew—Empress would be Dong's knife; Dong never moved without gain.
Empress smiled, seated Luo Xueyan, beckoned Shen Miao close, looked her up and down, pleased. "Neat girl," to Dong.
Luo Xueyan squirmed—wanted to drag her daughter out—mother's instinct for predators.
"Age?" Empress asked.
"Sixteen, Your Majesty."
Empress took her hand. "We heard General Shen's daughter excels. Banquet glimpses—charming. Idle days—invited you." Sigh. "Sixteen—so bright—what family's son wins such a wife?"
Luo Xueyan's hand clenched. Shen Miao saw a third of the game.
Dong smiled. "Pretty, meek—no arrogance—rare now."
"Betrothed?" Empress asked.
Luo Xueyan quickly said, "We are looking at suitable young men." No hiding—if the throne wanted her, they already knew.
"Ah." Empress brighter. "Shall I play matchmaker?"
"No!" Luo Xueyan blurted—saw the face, amended, "She's young—we wish to keep her."
Empress laughed. "Daughters can't be hoarded—grudges grow. Won't she blame you, Miss Shen?"
Shen Miao smiled. "I wish to stay with Mother." No face given.
Empress's smile cooled—is she stupid or slapping me? Such daughter-in-law displeased.
Dong softened. "Deep bond—enviable. Yet girls must marry—marriage needn't end it."
Neither answered. Dong noted—once Shen Miao chased Fu Xiuyi like a fool—now seemed clever—today mother and daughter alike—stubborn, neither soft nor hard.
Empress unused to cold reception—today was merely prep—Shen attitude irrelevant. Shen Xin dare not defy decree—arm cannot twist thigh.
Chill chat—dismissal.
Silent ride home—maids frightened.
Shen Qiu and Luo Ling returned from the ministry—asked purpose. Luo Xueyan vague, pulled Shen Xin inside.
She told all—matchmaking intent. "What now?"
Shen Xin's face darkened. "Matchmaking? We raised her—who orders her marriage?"
"Crown prince, I think—hinted his health improves—several times. Unacceptable—already has a consort—our girl would be side consort—high concubine—bowing to another woman—I choke thinking it. And that body— I won't hand her to it."
"No prince!" Shen Xin slammed the table—cups jumped.
"Afraid we'll be dragged into succession war?" Luo Xueyan said.
"Not only that." Long sigh. "Imperial sons are thin-hearted—harems of wives and concubines—Jiaojiao won't be happy. Even if he becomes emperor—three palaces, six courtyards—shared favor—I won't have her live that. And they don't want her truly—a son-in-law needn't be duke—needn't sable hat—but he must love her alone—or not even heaven's lord!"
Outside the door Shen Miao warmed—kin who'd defy power before her hurt.
Luo Xueyan: "No Eastern Palace— but when decree falls—what now?"
Shen Xin thought. "Marry her before it comes—hard in days—unknown character—but tonight scout youths—if decent and she agrees—betroth first. Never royal!"
Bitter taste—voices faded—listing candidates. She turned—Shen Qiu and Luo Ling behind, frowning—how long listening?
Shen Qiu pulled her to her yard, sent maids out, shut door. "Empress wants you for crown prince?"
She nodded.
He punched the table. "Outrage!"
She laughed. "Many claw for Eastern Palace—you call it outrage—your bar is high—all Dingjing unworthy."
"Heart big while we worry—and you mock us."
Luo Ling gently, "Cousin—your view?"
She shrugged. "Do all you can—accept fate."
"Not opposed?" His tone odd.
"Parents seek escape. Find a youth I like—betroth before decree. My bar isn't so high—shouldn't be hard."
Shen Qiu muttered, "Which lucky pup…" She ignored.
Luo Ling stepped closer. "If none found—or decree comes first?"
"Cousin—ill words!" Shen Qiu said.
Luo Ling still watched her—demanding answer.
She smiled. "Then I marry."
"Sister!"
"Else what? Whole house executed for defiance—kin ruined—for my stubbornness? Brother—is that what you want? If decree named you—would you die rather than wed?"
Shen Qiu silent.
He'd accept—for parents and her.
"You would too." Flat. "Not all live as they wish—each has chains. I'll avoid if I can—if not—marry. One husband, one match—weigh less than family."
"Your life's happiness," his eyes stung. Why did she speak of marriage cold, almost hating—no girl's dream—had he failed her?
"Happiness you seize—not receive from a man. Good husband—guarantee decades? Prince or not—who swears no new concubines, no turning? I don't believe."
"Don't think so dark—you're not a widow's heart."
Luo Ling studied her—almost spoke—didn't.
She lowered eyes. Husband—match—words of pain from last life. No fall twice—no hope, no wound.
Smile cold. "Not too dark—too complicated. Just marriage—women marry—well or ill—if Eastern Palace harms me, they won't enjoy it."