Ren, Tao, and Zan were the Emperor's three adult sons: Ren, the eldest, titled Prince Qingyang; Tao, the second, titled Prince Anyang; and Zan, the third, titled Prince Linyang. Each held two-character county prince titles, not single-character princely ones.
Bright Hua's rites dictated that after an emperor's ascension, his siblings dropped one rank, from prince to county prince. Another succession would demote county princes to dukes.
Previous dynasties kept an emperor's brothers as princes, demoting only uncles. But who dared question the decrees of Bright Hua's brilliant, all-knowing, strategically unmatched Founding Emperor Ming?
In Ming's era, one dynasty nearly collapsed under the weight of its nobility, and others faced kin-led rebellions, some sparking foreign invasions. With these warnings, how could Ming not curb the imperial clan? After unifying the realm, he set strict rules. Yet why were an emperor's brothers princes while his sons were county princes?
It seemed the Emperor granted his brothers dignity, laced with a hint of false benevolence as their "elder brother."
Once the princes reached their fiefs, next year at the earliest or the year after at the latest, they would be demoted, while the Emperor's sons would rise to princes.
Though the princes and princesses were adults, to avoid suspicion, they avoided the Golden Lotus Hall, gathering instead in the quieter Clear Spring Palace. Jian Qian led Lian there.
"Greetings, General Lian!"
A youth in splendid robes, leading a group of similarly dressed children, bowed to her as she entered.
"Greetings, Princes and Princesses!"
Lian returned a slight bow, neither servile nor proud, and scanned them.
Ren, the Emperor's eldest son, led the group. Handsome but not flashy, a hint of dullness marred his brow. His movements were stiff, and facing Lian, a famed female general from the border garrisons, he seemed reserved, overly serious.
Ren tried to project the aura and refinement of the eldest imperial son but overdid it, appearing rigid, almost comical. Lian shook her head inwardly.
Behind him stood Tao, the Emperor's second son. Strikingly handsome with peach-blossom eyes and a sharp nose, he exuded recklessness, even frivolity. Even while bowing, he stole glances at Lian in her martial attire.
His frequent peeks and flickering gaze made Lian frown slightly, a trace of displeasure stirring, though she stayed silent.
Next was Zan, the Emperor's third son. At sixteen and of age, he retained a childish air, almost boyish. Facing Lian, armored with sharp eyes and an overwhelming presence, he shrank back a step.
At his age, barbarian youths could draw bows, ride horses, and charge across plains, Lian thought, glancing at the childlike Zan and shaking her head lightly.
Behind him, younger princes and princesses, cowed by Lian's military aura and decisive demeanor, stood frozen, like mice before a cat. They bowed in unison only when Ren signaled.
"General Lian and Marshal Rex have guarded Bright Hua's borders, protected its people, and repelled barbarians, earning countless merits. This prince truly admires…" Ren began, organizing his thoughts. His words sounded rehearsed, like a formula, lacking sincerity.
"Not here!"
Lian ignored him entirely, not responding. She glanced around, not finding who she sought, and felt a pang of disappointment.
Her action made Tao's eyes flicker. Smiling, he said, "General Lian, what are you looking for? Tell me, and perhaps I can help. I've learned many interesting things in the palace lately…"
Before Lian could reply, Ren, seeing Tao speak out of turn, struggled to maintain his taut expression. He opened his mouth but said nothing, falling silent.
Hearing Tao's endless chatter and noting Ren's reaction, Lian shook her head inwardly.
Even Jian Qian, who accompanied her, sighed softly to himself.
The Emperor had few sons, and these three adults lacked character and grace. First, the Emperor, busy consolidating power in his youth, neglected their upbringing. Second, their mothers, noblewomen married for alliances, were pampered and ignorant of hardship, raising them with affectation but little true nobility.
Compared to Qing and Li, the princesses born to Empress Mei, who seemed heaven-crafted, these princes and princesses were pheasants beside phoenixes. Even without spreading their wings, the princesses carried innate nobility and elegance, born with unmatched grace. Mei's upbringing and cultivation shone with wisdom and tact.
Though the Emperor and Mei's relationship was strained, it didn't lessen his favor toward Qing.
Ren lacked ability, dull and rigid; Tao was ambitious but frivolous and careless; Zan was timid and withdrawn, almost reclusive.
No wonder, after the Emperor's coronation, these three received few rewards. Even court ministers' calls to name an heir were faint as raindrops. With their demeanor, it seemed the Emperor held little hope.
Yet the Emperor, believing himself in his prime, likely thought he had time to groom a worthy successor.
What a pity Mei had no son…
Jian observed silently, a trace of regret rising before he suppressed it.
As the supreme ruler, the Emperor's harem stirred countless ambitions and schemes. If possible, Jian would serve Mei, cultured, wise, and gracious after years of service.
But alas, no son.
Thus, he recently resolved to shift allegiance.
Yu Fei, deeply favored by the Emperor and mother to two young princes, was his best choice.
Tao's voice buzzed like a mosquito, incessant and grating. Lian turned away, irritation flaring, but restrained herself for the Emperor's sake.
Had anyone else prattled so brazenly before her, she'd have tossed them out for military lashes.
Fortunately, the ordeal didn't last long.
"The Princess arrives!"
A clear breeze swept through, carrying a fragrant scent and a cool, moonlike indifference. Even the chattering Tao fell silent.
Qing and Li, one older, one younger, crossed the threshold into the hall.
Qing wore a flowing white gown, her dark hair swaying like silk threads. Her face was like frost, her skin like snow, her eyes gleaming with moonlight. Her cheeks resembled clear streams over stones, or the Milky Way cascading to earth. Her lips, red as vermilion, were cold as frost, unadorned yet breathtakingly beautiful. She stunned all, men and women alike, making them question if such beauty could exist, yet marvel at the world's wonders. Graceful and refined, she was colder than mountain snow, like the moon meeting the sun, a celestial maiden from the lunar star, or a flawless jade statue in the mortal realm. Her tall, slender frame was like carved ice, her icy beauty unblemished.
Below her jade-like neck, her white gown clung to her full, rounded chest, tracing a perfect curve. Her flat abdomen was smooth as a polished mirror, without a crease. Her waist was willow-slim, so delicate it seemed a breeze might snap it, stirring longing and sorrow. Her hips were round and firm, their perfect curve veiled by her skirt, ethereal as mist, enchanting yet melancholic. Her long legs stood straight, surpassing most men, adorned by her gown, graceful as if floating on water.
Li followed, dressed in a regal purple gown, noble yet understated. Her dark hair was styled perfectly, adorned with delicate jade hairpins, their tassels falling like pearl curtains. Her skin was fair, not pallid, glowing with health and vitality. Her small face was exquisitely delicate, like a jade carving. Her bright eyes sparkled like stars, still carrying a trace of youth, yet flawless. At her youthful age, her beauty was vivid, three parts refined, seven parts like the rising sun, warm yet reserved.
Though not as tall or curvaceous as Qing, Li stood gracefully. Not swaying like a willow, she bloomed like peach or cherry blossoms. Her chest, like unripe apples, lacked the fullness of her mother or sister but was firm and lively, like tender doves, dainty yet prominent. In a few years, they would likely rival Qing's. Her waist retained a girlish innocence, not seductive like Qing's willow-slim figure, yet captivating enough to linger in memory, like a spring breeze from home. Her hips, like unripe peaches, were not yet full but firm and natural, their gentle curves promising future allure. Her legs, slender and straight, were like ivory or carved jade, refined beneath her ornate gown.
Lian's gaze didn't linger on Li. Her eyes carried the fire of battlefields, sharp and unyielding, like a thunderbolt cleaving the sky. They burned with intensity, as if scorching the air.
Yet, no matter how fierce the flame, Qing's serene majesty remained cold and distant. Her eyes seemed to pierce through millennia, transcending time and space, calm yet remote. Her presence grew colder, chilling the maids and eunuchs, who bowed their heads, unable to meet her gaze.
Even her three brothers averted their eyes, (not daring to look directly).
"Bright Hua's Princess, Qing?"
Lian's smile was like a leopard stalking prey, or an eagle soaring over plains, her aura unrestrained, filling the space like blazing fire or molten tides. A single glance felt searing, drying the mind and eyes.
One cold, one hot, irresistible yet seemingly incompatible, their clash sparking something intangible.
Tao suddenly realized Lian wasn't just a boasted female general but a battle-hardened master, her martial prowess godlike, her presence overwhelming. Not a sheltered flower, she was a peerless warrior forged in war.
"Disciple of the Dragon Halberd, Lian?" Qing said coolly.
One addressed her as princess, the other as a martial artist.
Lian made no mention of Qing's status as a once-in-a-century genius of the Xian Sect, nor did Qing mention Lian's position as the cherished daughter of the northern warlord.
Their opening words shifted the atmosphere.
Jian quietly withdrew with the guards, while Zan led his younger siblings to sit, yielding the stage to the two.
"Greetings, Princess!"
Ren and Tao's expressions shifted, sensing they'd been sidelined. They bowed to Qing, avoiding familial terms, and retreated, knowing their standing in the Emperor's heart paled beside Qing and Li.
They were born of concubines, while Qing and Li were Mei's daughters. Despite age differences, neither law nor status allowed them to posture before the sisters. Mei hailed from a scholarly lineage, while their mothers were derided as upstart nobles. Qing was the Xian Sect's voice in court, while they relied on maternal ties and imperial favor.
The Emperor had many children, and more might come, but there was only one Qing, and only one most beloved little princess, Li.
Both Ren and Tao hoped to befriend Lian. Marshal Rex was aging, with only one daughter…
If they won her favor, backed by the northern armies, they'd gain a decisive edge in the succession struggle.
Meeting Lian was their initiative, approved by the Emperor, who knew their ambitions. He neither encouraged nor blocked them, acting as a judge, balancing his favor.
But clearly, Lian had no interest in these palace-raised princes.
Her interest lay solely with Qing.