Chapter 36: Do You Want Me to Have No Heirs?

As Ye Sha and Elder Meng were both intently sneaking glances, Green Vine poked her head over next to Ye Sha, her voice low and mischievous: “It’s obvious your prince is the one coveting my lady’s beauty.”

Ye Sha started, startled by her sudden appearance. When had Green Vine crept up on him? He, Ye Sha, the top shadow guard, had actually let a little maid catch him off guard?

The two immediately locked horns. “Clearly, my prince is far more handsome,” Ye Sha retorted.

Green Vine rolled her eyes. “Are you blind? My lady’s as radiant as a flower in full bloom.”

“No, you’re the blind one.”

With hands on her hips, Green Vine shot back fiercely, “Are all the guards of the Prince’s household so lacking in judgment? I think you’d better get Imperial Physician Hu to examine your eyes.”

“You—you’re the one who needs an eye doctor! How dare you belittle me? Do you think you’re your mistress? I might fear her, but I’m not afraid of you!” With a flash, Ye Sha grabbed Green Vine by the collar and leapt up onto the branch of a tall tree.

Green Vine shrieked in alarm. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

Ye Sha sneered, “Go ahead and shout. Why not wake your mistress while you’re at it?”

Green Vine, incensed, retorted, “Won’t you just wake your own prince too? And you call yourself the prince’s personal guard—such pettiness, such a narrow heart! Let me go at once!”

Elder Meng, watching Ye Sha fly off with Green Vine, could only sigh and click his tongue. When would this sulky tuber finally sprout, he wondered.

The more Green Vine spoke, the angrier Ye Sha became. True, he didn’t possess his prince’s ethereal looks, but he was still striking and spirited. Yet this maid dared call him petty and small-minded?

After tossing Green Vine onto the thick branch, Ye Sha thought to himself—surely this little maid had never seen such a scene. Let her be frightened out of her wits; let’s see if she dares challenge Ye Sha again.

Green Vine landed on the branch, her back to Ye Sha, trembling as if terrified, unable to utter a word.

“Scared now, are you?” Ye Sha said. “If you ask nicely, I might let you down.”

But as he finished, he noticed Green Vine’s shoulders shaking, her head bowed, her silhouette giving the impression she was weeping. Ye Sha stiffened—he dreaded nothing more than a girl’s tears. It made him look like a heartless brute.

“Hey, hey—don’t cry,” he said, flustered. “It’s not like I really wanted to make you cry. I just meant to scare you a bit, that’s all. Stop crying…”

In the night, her soft sobs sounded especially clear. Ye Sha felt a pang of guilt—what sort of grown man bullied a young girl like this? He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and began, “All right—”

But before he could finish, Green Vine suddenly spun around and delivered a fierce kick. Ye Sha’s eyes bulged like a goldfish’s as he clutched his groin. “You—you little devil! Are you trying to end my line?!”

This uncouth little wretch! He had been about to apologize, and she’d responded with such a crude trick. That kick nearly sent his soul flying.

His whole body went rigid—he’d been completely unguarded against her, and she’d taken full advantage.

Ye Sha slumped over the branch, groaning in pain. Green Vine, far from weeping, had only been feigning distress to draw him in. She snorted, “Maybe you won’t lose your line, but I bet you’ll never stand tall again!”

Ye Sha tried to grab her, seething. “You little wretch—!”

He should never have let his guard down. How could the future princess’s maid be any ordinary girl?

As Ye Sha writhed in pain on the branch, he watched Green Vine expertly scramble down. In the midst of her descent, she paused to shoot him a look of disdain. “Trying to scare me with such low tricks? You think I’m that easy? When my lady was still in the Xia family, she was bullied all the time, never had enough to eat. If I hadn’t climbed trees for fruit, we’d have starved. Scare me? Dream on.”

With that, she slid swiftly down the trunk and disappeared, leaving Ye Sha howling alone in the tree, clutching himself in agony—a solitary, tormented figure silhouetted against the night.

Elder Meng gazed at Ye Sha’s wretched form and shook his head. Ah, the strength of the young.

The next day, the farce that had begun at the Xia family’s birthday banquet quickly spread throughout the capital. People began to speculate that Xia Jiujiang was not the dullard she’d been rumored to be. Her return to the Xia estate as the prince’s bride had been rife with schemes and betrayals, and many sighed to think what kind of life she must have led in that household.

The prime minister, Xia Wentao, was also caught up in a storm of criticism over these rumors, but he could not trace their source—naturally, since they had been sown by the imperial secret police. The chain reaction of rumors about his household led to a stack of complaints being delivered to the emperor’s desk.

These whispers influenced Emperor Zongkang’s opinion, and he began to suppress Xia Wentao. Outwardly, he claimed he was giving Xia extra leave to handle family affairs after the tragedy with the young master, but the implication was clear: Xia Wentao could not even manage his own estate.

When Xia Mingxuan returned home, the prime minister’s residence was already draped in white lanterns, shrouded in a solemn, funereal atmosphere. The household staff wore rough linen mourning clothes. Chun’er’s memorial had been set up for two days, and the family had opted for a low-key approach—no fanfare greeted Xia Mingxuan’s return.

It was only when he arrived at Lingxiang Courtyard that he learned Lin Baixue was under house arrest for reflection, and from her and Xia Yue’er he heard of everything Xia Jiujiang had done during his absence.

Xia Mingxuan chuckled coldly. “So a mere Xia Jiujiang has reduced you to this? Even Concubine Wei has fallen at her hands. Clearly, life has been too easy for you all, or she’d never have gotten the chance.”

Xia Yue’er protested, “Brother, don’t think Xia Jiujiang is easy to deal with. She’s not the useless fool she once was—we can’t control her anymore.”

Lin Baixue clung to Xia Mingxuan, pleading, “Xuan’er, you must stand up for your mother. That Xia Jiujiang must not be allowed to remain. Only if she dies can your sister become the legitimate daughter, and only then can she become the imperial consort. That way, your future will be assured by her support.”

Xia Mingxuan understood her meaning well. Xia Jiujiang had to be eliminated. He sneered, “Do you remember White Iris from the Jiang family?”

Lin Baixue looked puzzled. “White Iris—the maid who served Jiang Beiying, adopted by Brother Jiang Ruan?”

When the Jiang family was executed and their house confiscated, all their servants were killed as well. But White Iris had only been with the family a few months as the maid of the adopted daughter and was not on the household register. By a stroke of luck, she had been home visiting her parents at the time and escaped the massacre.

Xia Mingxuan’s smile turned sly. “I know where White Iris is. We’ll use her to kill Xia Jiujiang.”

Lin Baixue hesitated. After so many failed attempts, Xia Jiujiang’s cunning made her uneasy. “But it’s been five years since the Jiang family’s fall, and White Iris was only a servant. How can you be sure she’ll act?”

Xia Mingxuan’s plan was already forming. “Because our spies have found that, even after five years, White Iris has never stopped investigating the Jiang family’s demise. That alone shows how much she cares. Now, what if she learned it was Xia Jiujiang who destroyed the Jiangs?”