- Zhoa Minghao, the emperor -
The palace gardens were alive with the gentle hum of life. Birds flitted between plum blossoms, and koi swam lazily in the ponds, their bright scales shimmering under the midday sun. At the center of it all was Prince Zhao Mínghào, only four years old but already a figure of fascination and envy. Seated cross-legged on a silk cushion beneath a willow tree, he traced delicate characters onto parchment with a steady hand, his small fingers guided by precision and intellect far beyond his years.
"Father, is this correct?" the boy asked, holding up his work for the Emperor to see.
Zhao Hànlóng, the formidable ruler of the Zhao Dynasty, sat beside his son, a rare indulgence of time that baffled his court. The Emperor took the parchment, his expression softening as he scanned the carefully formed characters. "Perfect," he said, his deep voice filled with pride. "You've mastered this faster than I expected."
The boy beamed, the innocent joy of a child breaking through the precocious brilliance. He leaned closer to his father, his small voice barely above a whisper. "When will you teach me the sword, Father?"
The Emperor chuckled. "In time, my son. A mind must first be sharpened before one can wield a blade."
But as the Emperor spoke, his sharp eyes caught movement at the edge of the garden. A cluster of attendants lingered, their gazes filled with something darker than curiosity. The Empress and several concubines had grown restless with Prince Zhao Mínghào's rapid rise in his father's favor, and whispers of discontent had reached even the Emperor's ears.
______
In the private chambers of Lady Xu, the mother of the prince, unease lingered like a shadow. She had heard the whispers—the Empress's veiled remarks about "keeping balance in the court," the pointed looks from other concubines whose own sons were being overshadowed by her brilliant child. She knew the danger that brilliance brought, especially for one so young.
"Your Majesty, you must protect him," Lady Xu pleaded one evening as the Emperor visited her chambers. "The others… they see him as a threat."
The Emperor waved his hand to dismiss her concerns . "Let them see him as they will. Zhao Mínghào is my son. No harm will come to him, he is the fourth prince."
But Lady Xu wasn't reassured. The court's scheming was insidious, and even the Emperor's reach had its limits.
_______
But the dreaded moment finally happened during a routine banquet, an event meant to celebrate the harvest season. The grand hall was filled with laughter and music, the air heavy with the scent of roasted duck and spiced wine. Prince Zhao Mínghào, seated beside his mother, was the picture of innocence, his bright eyes wide as he listened to the court musicians.
A servant approached with a tray of desserts, offering a delicate pastry to the young prince. Lady Xu hesitated, her instincts prickling, but the boy's eager smile disarmed her. He took a bite, the sweetness spreading across his face in delight.
Moments later, his small body stiffened. His smile faltered, and then he collapsed, his tiny frame convulsing violently.
"Zhao Mínghào!" Lady Xu screamed, cradling her son as chaos erupted around her. She heard the quiet laugh of
The Emperor was on his feet in an instant, his voice thundering across the hall. "Physicians! Now!"
As the boy's breathing grew shallow, the court fell into a stunned silence. All eyes turned to the Empress and the concubines, their faces masks of feigned shock.
________
By the time the physicians stabilized the prince, the Emperor's fury was palpable. He stood in the hall, his piercing gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles and courtiers. "This was no accident," he declared, his voice like ice. "Someone here dared to harm my son—an act of treason against the throne."
No one spoke, but the tension was suffocating. The Empress sat rigid, her expression carefully neutral, while the concubines exchanged nervous glances.
The Emperor turned to his trusted eunuch, Wei Cheng. "Find the culprit. Spare no one."
___________
In her chambers, Lady Xu sat by her son's bedside, her hands trembling as she wiped his fevered brow. The boy stirred fitfully, his small body weakened but alive.
"Mother," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I'm here, my love," Lady Xu said, her voice breaking. "You'll be fine. You're strong, just like your father."
The Emperor entered quietly, his imposing presence filling the room. He knelt beside his son, a rare act of vulnerability. "You will recover, Mínghào," he said softly. "And when you do, I will ensure no one dares harm you again."
Lady Xu looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear and determination. "Promise me, Hànlóng. Promise me you'll protect him."
The Emperor's gaze hardened. "I promise."
__________
The days that followed were marked by relentless interrogations. Servants were questioned, food tasters punished, and spies dispatched to uncover the truth. The court was a hive of fear and speculation, but the culprit remained elusive.
The Emperor, however, had his suspicions. The Empress's serene composure and the concubines' carefully crafted innocence did little to convince him of their loyalty.
In private, he confided in Lady Xu. "This palace is a nest of vipers," he admitted. "But I will cut down anyone who dares threaten our son."
Lady Xu nodded, her heart heavy with both gratitude and fear. She knew the battle was far from over, but for now, her son was safe—and she would do everything in her power to keep it that way.