Chapter Fifty-Five: A Chance Encounter

Although Zhu Hao had given up discussing Xie Gang with his mother, he had by no means abandoned the matter entirely. After all, the Imperial Guards were his sole source of power; should turmoil erupt in the palace, he would have to rely on them. If he were to discard Xie Gang now and lose control over the guards, once upheaval struck, he and his mother might meet an untimely end in the chaos. With this in mind, Zhu Hao dared not linger long in Consort Liu’s quarters. He stayed barely an hour before, under his mother’s dissatisfied gaze, he hurriedly excused himself. In truth, Zhu Hao cherished these moments with his mother, for only here could he let go of cunning calculations and simply be a son. Yet he understood all too well that such peace was fleeting and fragile; to cling to it would only be to count his days toward a doomed tranquility. For the sake of lasting safety, he had to act now.

Leaving Consort Liu’s residence, Zhu Hao’s mood was somber. The matter before him was not some straightforward case like the great palace fire; rather, he now faced the reality that his father was being threatened by some unknown power, causing him to make this grave mistake. Unless Zhu Hao could resolve the threat behind the scenes, even irrefutable proof of Xie Gang’s innocence would be in vain. At best, Xie Gang’s life might be spared, but Zhu Hao was certain to lose command of the Imperial Guards—something he could not allow to happen.

As he walked away from Consort Liu’s quarters, Zhu Hao pondered, “This power must be formidable if it can threaten the emperor himself. There’s no way I can contend with such a force right now. How am I to break this impasse? This is truly a thorny problem!” He could think of no solution, and so he wandered the palace corridors aimlessly, head bowed in silent frustration.

He had no idea how long he wandered like this, until his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a cry of pain. Just before that, he had felt himself collide with something. As he came to himself, realizing he must have bumped into someone, he was about to apologize—only to remember that, as the Fifth Prince, no one in the palace would dare block his path. Seizing the chance to vent his pent-up irritation, he snorted coldly and barked, “Are you blind, you wretched cur? How dare you stand in my way! Have you grown tired of living, or do you think yourself fearless?”

Still thinking about his predicament, Zhu Hao didn’t bother to look at the person he’d knocked over. But when the expected pleas for mercy failed to materialize, replaced instead by ragged, furious breathing, he grew curious and finally glanced at the fallen figure. What he saw made him catch his breath in shock. “How did I end up running into her? Fate truly has a sense of irony!”

The person he had struck was a young maiden in a white dress, in the first bloom of youth. She was tall and slender, with a round, peach-like face and eyes that glittered like polished obsidian, alive with intelligence. Her mouth was small and rosy, her features those of one born to wealth and privilege. Altogether, her beauty was so striking it could steal the breath from any who beheld her. Now, however, she sat on the ground, her eyes rimmed red with fury, her teeth clenched so tightly they ground audibly. She was teetering on the edge of rage.

This was none other than the white-clad girl Zhu Hao had briefly encountered at the royal hunting grounds, the one who had mistaken him for his elder brother—Guo Mengdie. Of course, Zhu Hao did not know her name. Still, seeing her here in the palace lifted his spirits a little, and, smiling, he stepped forward to greet her.

Delighted as he was, Zhu Hao completely forgot what he had just said to her. As he reached out to help her up, Guo Mengdie, still seated on the ground, swept his legs out from under him in one swift motion, sending him crashing down. Outraged and humiliated, Zhu Hao pointed at her, about to unleash a tirade, but she beat him to it, shouting, “Zhu Youxiao, you scoundrel! I saw you just now and wanted to say hello, but you ignored me and knocked me over as if you didn’t see me! And if that wasn’t enough, you called me a servant!” With that, she leapt up, and with her dainty, bound feet, began to kick him furiously, all the while yelling, “Who are you calling a servant? How dare you insult me! I’ll kick you to death, you lecher! You beast! I’ll kick you to death!”

Though Guo Mengdie held back enough not to injure him, Zhu Hao found the whole episode supremely embarrassing. He lost his temper and shouted, “You shrew! I was trying to help you up, and this is how you repay me—by knocking me down and humiliating me! Do you really think Zhu Youjian is so easily bullied? With your vicious temper, you’ll never find a husband! Any man fool enough to marry you must be cursed for eight generations!”

Forgetting all caution, Zhu Hao blurted out his own name, hoping to frighten this madwoman into stopping before any passing eunuchs or maids saw and his reputation was ruined. In the palace, after all, everyone knew the Fifth Prince was the emperor’s favorite.

Sure enough, when Zhu Hao finished speaking, the young woman instantly froze, her expression blank as she stared at him. “You’re Zhu Youjian?”

Seeing her taken aback by his name, Zhu Hao quickly scrambled to his feet, sneering inwardly, “My reputation isn’t so small after all. This crazy woman is finally cowed.” Holding his head high, he declared, “That’s right! I am the Fifth Prince, Zhu Youjian, the emperor’s favorite. Are you frightened yet? Hurry up and apologize for your rudeness—I am magnanimous and won’t stoop to quarrel with a little girl like you.”

Hearing this confirmation, Guo Mengdie was thunderstruck; even with all her wit, she had no idea how to respond to such an awkward situation. She had mistaken her future brother-in-law for her future husband—such an embarrassment was beyond words.

She stood there petrified, repeating over and over, “You’re Zhu Youjian, not Zhu Youxiao; you’re Zhu Youjian, not Zhu Youxiao…”

Zhu Hao was bewildered by her insistence on confusing him with his elder brother. “You once saved me, so I’ll let this go. But tell me: why do you keep mistaking me for my brother? Do you and he have some kind of history?” he asked.

His words snapped Guo Mengdie from her daze. With a startled cry, she turned and bolted, as if fleeing a demon.

Zhu Hao scratched his nose, bemused. “I may not be as handsome as Pan An, but I’m not so bad—why did she look at me like she’d seen a ghost? What a strange woman. I’ll have Xiaobao look into her background when he has time.” Without realizing it, Zhu Hao found himself intrigued by Guo Mengdie, unaware that this curiosity was about to entangle him in a fraught struggle between duty and love.

After Guo Mengdie fled, Zhu Hao wandered back to his own chambers, closing the door behind him to contemplate how to break the deadlock. Yet as he sat there, the image of Guo Mengdie running away in her white dress kept replaying in his mind, making it impossible for him to focus.

Finally, unable to endure this distraction, Zhu Hao summoned Wei Xiaobao. As the head of the Central Intelligence Bureau, Wei Xiaobao was always busy recruiting new agents, but at word of his master’s summons, he immediately abandoned the two young eunuchs he was trying to persuade and rushed to Zhu Hao’s quarters.

Upon entering, Wei Xiaobao immediately began reporting his achievements. “Your Highness, I’m carrying out your orders systematically and everything is progressing smoothly. I was about to come give you an update myself! The Central Intelligence Bureau now has over two hundred agents, and I’ve assigned Deputy Chief Shi Qian to train them. I also have men monitoring the Palace of Earthly Tranquility day and night to ensure nothing goes wrong. In the next three months, I plan to—”

Zhu Hao waved him to silence. Though he was impressed that so many agents had been recruited so quickly, it was still far from enough to monitor the entire palace, let alone the whole realm. As for Wei Xiaobao’s future plans, Zhu Hao had no interest at the moment. The only thing on his mind was the identity of the white-clad maiden. Judging by her dress and bearing, she was neither an ordinary maid nor a palace consort—so why was she here, and why had she fled so suddenly? Zhu Hao’s mind was full of questions, waiting for someone to answer them.