The Whole Family is Reborn, But I Transmigrated into a Book - Chapter 57

The Emperor’s attitude toward his sixth son had always been lukewarm; he neither particularly liked nor disliked him. However, Consort Ling had personally pleaded for his help in securing a prestigious marriage for the boy, and as a father, he could hardly refuse.

Scanning the banquet hall at his sons and the assembled ministers, the Emperor harbored his own designs. He detested the idea of his sons forming factions—after all, he had claimed the throne by doing exactly that, which had required the elimination of several of his own brothers. As he aged, he yearned for the comfort of having his children and grandchildren around him, regardless of whether they shared the same mother.

“Consort Ling, does the Sixth Prince have a lady he favors? If so, I may grant him a decree of marriage,” the Emperor said with a smile, addressing the prince’s mother. “At my age, I am no longer young. Were I a commoner, I would already be cradling grandsons and enjoying the simple joys of family life. Alas, these sons of mine are quite disappointing; not one is willing to marry early and grant me a grandson.”

Having said this, he turned his gaze toward the Fifth Prince and sighed. “Old Five is an obedient one, but the fault lies with me. Just as he wed, I sent him away to search for his eldest brother. The young couple has hardly had the chance to nurture their affections.”

In the imperial family, speaking of “affection” was almost a farce, yet because the words came from the Emperor himself, no one dared to contradict him.

“Your Majesty speaks truly,” Consort Ling replied with a forced smile. She harbored no particular grudge against the Fifth Prince, though she was jealous of the military merits he had earned at the border. In the Emperor’s presence, however, she chose her words carefully.

“I am sure Prince Jing understands Your Majesty’s painstaking efforts; he has always been a filial son. As for our sixth boy, he has never been particularly talented. Now that he has reached the age for marriage without a sweetheart in mind, I grew anxious—which is why I presumed to beg Your Majesty’s favor.” Consort Ling took the responsibility upon herself, breathing not a word of the Sixth Prince’s desire for a political alliance. If the Emperor suspected the boy was calculating for power, he would be livid.

“Matters of the heart cannot be forced; we must see what the boy wants,” the Emperor replied. He neither agreed nor declined, but instead shifted the topic to the Third Prince.

“Look at the trouble Old Three caused. No matter how the Noble Consort pleaded, he wouldn’t settle down. Now, look at him—chasing after the Wei family’s daughter.”

The Third Prince’s antics had become the talk of the capital. Normally, such behavior from a prince of the realm would be considered a stain on the imperial reputation, yet the Emperor remained strangely silent on the matter. Noble Consort rubbed her lips and remained silent; her son’s behavior was indeed embarrassing, and there was no way to salvage his dignity.

“One shouldn’t look at it that way,” Consort Ling remarked, barely suppressing a smirk. “The Third Prince has been clever and charming since childhood. I’m sure he will win Miss Wei’s favor soon enough.” This was likely the only “good” news she had heard lately. Previously, though the Third Prince frequented pleasure quarters, he never trifled with the daughters of court officials. Now, he had provoked the daughter of Wei Changxu—a man so stubborn and difficult that even the Emperor sometimes found him impossible to handle.

“Enough, let us speak no more of that unfilial son,” the Emperor waved his hand, clearly losing interest in the conversation. Noble Consort sat to one side and let out a quiet sigh of relief, fearing that if the conversation continued, more of her son’s disgraces would be unearthed.

“Let the children go and play. It is a rare, lively banquet; there is no sense in us old folks sitting here,” the Emperor declared. He had only intended to make an appearance and did not plan to stay. Noble Consort followed suit, eager to escape the awkwardness. Consort Ling would have liked to stay longer to scout for a daughter-in-law, but since the Emperor was departing, she had no choice but to follow. She could only pray that her “troublemaker” son would choose a partner who provided a strong political advantage.

Once the Emperor had departed, the Seventh Prince scurried over to talk with the Fourth and Fifth brothers. The Sixth Prince, seemingly preoccupied with his “mission,” had finally stopped hovering around them with his usual sarcasm.

“Fourth Brother, Fifth Brother, look at Old Six! I told you he had an ulterior motive today,” the Seventh Prince remarked, having gradually transformed into a bit of a chatterbox. “Though, I wonder if he can actually win a girl over. He’s never been one for sweet talk.”

“I don’t recall you being such a gossip in the past,” Gu Qingjia said, looking at the Seventh Prince with genuine curiosity. The changes in his brothers were becoming too obvious to ignore.

“How is this gossip? These are matters between brothers; I am simply showing concern for Sixth Brother,” the Seventh Prince replied grandly, his eyes bright as he scanned the crowd for entertainment.

“You know his temper. You’d best restrain yourself and avoid provoking him,” Gu Qingjia warned. He wanted to enjoy what remained of the year in peace before whatever storms the new year might bring.

“Don’t worry, Fifth Brother. I won’t say a word to his face.” The Seventh Prince had become increasingly lively lately, with a faint streak of rebellion.

The Fourth Prince listened to his younger brothers without a word, until a graceful figure appeared in the distance. His expression shifted instantly.

“Heh, what are you looking at, Fourth Brother?” the Seventh Prince asked, his sharp intuition catching the change. A man like Gu Qingzhao rarely paid attention to anyone unless they were someone truly significant to him.

“It is nothing. Xiao Qi, you’ve been talking quite a bit. Are you thirsty? Would you like some tea?” Gu Qingzhao had never found his brother so noisy, but being a sincere man by nature, he offered the suggestion earnestly.

“I’m not thirsty! We’ve only just started!” the Seventh Prince teased, determined to find out who had caught the “immortal’s” eye. “Your look just now was definitely suspicious. Which lady were you watching?”

Across from them were only a few young women. For someone as detached and ascetic as the Fourth Prince to show interest was a major event. “Tell me, Fourth Brother! Talk to me!”

Gu Qingjia felt a sudden urge to gag his younger brother, though he too was curious. In his previous life, the Fourth Prince had remained unmarried until the end. If he had truly fallen for someone in this life, it would be a shocking turn of events. However, Gu Qingjia did not ask. He maintained a level of coldness toward his brothers; born of different mothers and raised without much affection, they only avoided open conflict because of their father’s teachings.

As the Seventh Prince rattled off the names of the ladies—the daughter of the Minister, the daughter of the Vice Minister—Gu Qingzhao finally confirmed Shen Xizhi’s identity. He looked at her from afar, but quickly averted his gaze. This was not the mountain or a busy street; their identities dictated a level of decorum that forbade casual conversation.

Shen Xizhi had no intention of speaking to him. Her health was fragile, and she would not have attended such a boisterous event if not for her father’s persistence. Her father was still dissatisfied that Jiang Yucheng had married her sister instead, but Shen Xizhi knew that with her sickly constitution, few families would truly want to ally with the Shen family. She preferred it that way, though she couldn’t be too obvious about it.

“Sisters, I am feeling a bit unwell. Please excuse me,” Shen Xizhi whispered, finding an excuse to escape the crowd. She walked into the quiet garden and took a deep breath, feeling the weight lift from her shoulders.

“My lady, we meet again.”

Gu Qingzhao had followed her out, no longer caring about his brothers’ prying eyes.

“Fourth Prince…” Shen Xizhi began, preparing to curtsy.

“There is no need for such formality. We are old acquaintances,” Gu Qingzhao said, raising a hand to stop her. He hadn’t followed her just for a polite greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I suppose this is our fate.”

He smiled, a look that would have stunned his brothers.

“Is Your Highness also out for some fresh air?” Shen Xizhi did not respond to his comment about “fate.” She didn’t see it as such; the vast difference in their social status made “fate” a complicated word.

Gu Qingzhao didn’t mind her deflection. He nodded. “The banquet felt quite stifling. However, my father wished for all the brothers to attend, so I could not decline.”

To anyone else, he would never have offered such an explanation. Shen Xizhi, unfamiliar with his usual coldness, simply thought the reclusive Fourth Prince had a very pleasant temperament.

“The palace gardens are truly beautiful,” Shen Xizhi mused. “Even in the dead of winter, there is a certain majesty here.” She knew, of course, that such beauty was built on a foundation of gold and silver—the kind of luxury no ordinary family could ever dream of.