Foolish Beauty Is Bound to the Sage Emperor Nurturing System Chapter 82

Chapter 82: The Jade Coronet and a Glimpse into the Past

What lay inside was not a trove of dazzling treasures, nor was it a hoard of crude and direct gold and silver ingots.

In fact, there was nothing of any real value in the vault at all.

There was only a single jade coronet. Though the material looked fine, it was clearly old.

Wei Wanlan’s eyes scanned the area around the coronet.

He stared so hard at the platform beneath it that he nearly burned a hole through it, finally confirming that the coronet was not connected to any hidden mechanisms or secret passages.

He picked it up. The style was that of an ordinary adult scholar. At most, he could deduce that the owner must have come from a wealthy family; otherwise, they couldn’t have afforded to adorn the crown with a piece of green jade the size of a walnut. Beyond that, it revealed nothing.

A streak of light flashed before his eyes.

Fu Jun had knocked down a luminous pearl from the wall.

As the pearl fell, a source of light appeared in Fu Jun’s palm. He handed the small, lantern-like orb to Wei Wanlan.

Wei Wanlan took it and carefully examined the coronet again. Finally, on the bottom edge, he spotted two small seal-script characters. He couldn’t read them, so he deliberately angled the pearl toward Xiao Ji.

Bathed in the cool light, Xiao Ji read them instantly: “Mingyue.”

It was a name.

A rather pleasant-sounding one.

Wei Wanlan tried his usual trick of waiting for Xiao Ji to elaborate, assuming that if he stayed silent, Xiao Ji would eventually offer up the answer.

But Xiao Ji seemed hesitant, a look of wanting to speak yet holding back on his face. He didn’t seem inclined to continue.

Fu Jun, his hands behind his back, spoke coolly. “Who would carve their name on their own coronet? If it’s carved, the words must hold great significance.”

In ancient times, when was a man’s coronet most important?

Wei Wanlan mumbled the answer, “The… coming-of-age ceremony?”

The guanli, or Capping Ceremony, was the rite of passage for a twenty-year-old man in ancient times. On that day, an elder would bestow upon him a courtesy name and personally place the coronet on his head.

If this coronet was a gift for the one being capped, then it wouldn’t be strange for it to have an inscription.

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But who was this “Mingyue”?

Wei Wanlan’s round, doe-like eyes turned to Xiao Ji again. He tugged on his sleeve. “Strongman?” He knew the owner of this coronet had to be closely related to Yuan Xizai. They had already deduced that Yuan Xizai, who had earned the late emperor’s favor, was not from a humble background.

And Xiao Ji’s family had been officials for generations. No one in Chang’an would have a clearer map of the relationships between the city’s officials than him.

“Alright,” Xiao Sheren said, as if resigned to his fate. “I can’t guarantee that what I’m about to say is correct. I only know of this person through hearsay. Yuan Mingyue and Yuan Xizai were brothers.”

“Yuan Xizai’s… older brother?”

“Yuan Xizai’s legitimate older brother.”

The little emperor, both naive and thirsty for knowledge, asked, “Strongman, you love to write poetry, and he loved to paint. You two must have had a good relationship, right?”

But Xiao Ji replied, “Quite the opposite. Because of Yuan Mingyue’s noble and pure character, he deliberately kept his distance. We were not very familiar with each other.”

Back then, Xiao Ji was the son of the Chancellor.

Dashing, noble, with a limitless future ahead of him. There was no shortage of people trying to get close to him.

If Yuan Mingyue was truly a man of letters from the purist faction, he would have wanted to avoid any hint of “fawning for career advancement.” He needed to stay as far away from the Chancellor’s residence as possible. It was a peculiar code among scholars.

Xiao Ji continued, “So I only met him a few times. The first time I learned he had an illegitimate younger brother was at the Wenhua Pavilion. I heard him discussing the Book of Odes with his literary friends. When they reached the chapter ‘The Flower of the Cherry Tree,’ he laughed and spoke in a very lighthearted tone about his relationship with his younger brother.”

The Wenhua Pavilion was a teahouse in Chang’an.

It was a semi-open space where people debated classics and ideologies all day without restraint, much like a modern-day speaker’s corner.

Xiao Ji added, “He said his younger brother had a talent for calligraphy, was gentle and endearing, and loved to follow him around like a little shadow.”

“‘The Flower of the Cherry Tree’ is a chapter about the bond between brothers.”

“However, it’s not unusual for sons of official families to have a few illegitimate siblings. Even my own family has four, which brings the total number of us Xiao sons to a neat five. My father used to say that if all of us brothers passed the imperial examinations, it would be called ‘Five Sons Achieving Success.’”

Five of them, five of them, there are five of them here…

QAQ QAQ QAQ—

Wei Wanlan’s ears turned red and hot. He stole a glance at Fu Jun, only to find Fu Jun looking right back at him. Their gazes met.

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Fu Jun’s expression was unreadable, but Wei Wanlan shuddered, terrified that his inner thoughts had been exposed. His snow-white ears burned even hotter. He quickly changed the subject. “Let’s not talk about your family for now. What happened next?”

“Among noble families, it’s common for illegitimate brothers to vie for favor. Even in my own household, though the other four receive the same allowance as I do, I am still honored as the principal son. When we pay respects to our ancestors, I am the one who stands in the center of the ancestral hall. They do not have that privilege.”

“Some families are even more ruthless; deaths are not uncommon. The historical records from the founding years of the dynasty list at least a dozen bloody incidents caused by fraternal strife. The hereditary titles granted at the founding were just too tempting.”

“It’s very rare to hear of an older brother who has an excellent relationship with his illegitimate younger brother,” Xiao Ji said.

“So you kept him in mind?”

“Not exactly kept in mind, just paid a little attention,” Xiao Ji replied. “But as I said, we weren’t close and didn’t interact much. The second time we met was at his coming-of-age ceremony. Many distinguished guests from Chang’an were there, including the Grand Princess and her husband.”

Ah, the Grand Princess!

Was that the same big sister, Wei Wanyi, who always looked ready for a fight whenever she saw him?

An image of her bright, dazzling makeup flashed in his mind. The Grand Princess was like a flower in full, glorious bloom, the opulence and splendor of Chang’an reflected in her eyes.

Luckily, back when the Grand Princess hadn’t been widowed yet, the original little emperor was still a prince in his fiefdom in Lin’an. So he could plausibly claim to know nothing about the gossip that was to follow.

Wei Wanlan secretly breathed a sigh of relief. “So what happened at the ceremony?”

It had to be something monumental. Wei Wanlan waited for the juicy details to drop.

But Xiao Ji just held the melon, offering him a taste of nothing.

“Nothing major. It’s just that after the ceremony, news came from the Yuan family that Yuan Mingyue had died. A sudden illness.”

Wei Wanlan froze.

Then, out of nowhere, Xiao Ji added, “A few days after that, the Grand Princess’s residence announced the tragic news of the Prince Consort’s death from illness.”

“…”

Those were two massive, uncut melons.

Who cuts melons like that!

He only cut the rind!

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Two giant melons, rind and all, had just been dropped on Wei Wanlan’s head, leaving him completely stunned.

Wei Wanlan was indignant. He clenched his little ‘dragon claws,’ looking ferocious enough to scratch someone.

“Strongman! You villain! You’re too cruel!”

Xiao Ji saw he was about to be clawed but didn’t move. A smile, as gentle as a spring breeze, spread across his face. He gave Wei Wanlan a deep bow.

“It’s truly not that I’m hiding anything. I only know that the matter involved the Grand Princess and her husband, as well as the Yuan family’s coming-of-age ceremony. I dare not speculate on the rest, for fear of influencing the Young Master’s judgment.”

All Wei Wanlan could do was pout. He picked up the coronet again and examined it closely. Of course, the mystery only deepened; the jade coronet held no answers. He tilted his head. Just then, his palm felt empty.

Wei Wanlan stared at his now-empty hand.

The hero Fu Jun’s expression had suddenly turned very ugly. He had taken the coronet from Wei Wanlan and stuffed it into Xiao Ji’s arms. His brows were furrowed in displeasure, and his tone was cold and hard. Each word could kill.

“When you’re out, don’t touch random things.”

Who on earth had provoked the great hero?

Wei Wanlan tried to recall what he might have done but came up with nothing. Baffled, he could only nod obediently. “Okay. I won’t touch random things.”

Click.

Just then, a sound came from the darkness of the storeroom, like the trigger of a toy gun being pulled.

Unsure of where the sound came from, Wei Wanlan’s ears shot up, their tips twitching. He looked like a wary little animal. He instinctively grabbed the arm of Fu Jun, who was standing beside him.

He gripped so tightly that his fingertips dug into Fu Jun’s firm bicep. The strange, soft sound from outside seemed to have been a fleeting moment, gone as quickly as it came, and did not repeat.

But the audacity of his own action startled Wei Wanlan, and he quickly let go. “S-s-s-sorry QAQ…”

Yet, the icy aura around Fu Jun seemed to dissipate. He lowered his gaze to look at Wei Wanlan. The younger man felt a tenderness in his eyes that could only be discerned with careful observation. For a moment, he thought Fu Jun must have been in pain from his grip, yet it seemed as if he had smiled at him. He told himself it was impossible.

Wei Wanlan blinked.

“There’s no treasure here, and Yuan Xizai is not here either. Let’s leave the storeroom and look elsewhere,” Fu Jun said.

“O-okay.”

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What a strange hero, he thought.

“Brother. You’re in my way.”

A wine cup was raised toward the moon.

The hand holding the cup was as white as jade.

Dancers performed before the table, the banquet spread was exquisite, and the palace lanterns cast a faint, smoky haze. The roof of the Sanxiu Terrace was high, the moon so close it seemed within reach. The evening breeze blew, carrying a rain of pink cherry blossom petals.

These peach trees were all early-blooming varieties, transplanted here to the Sanxiu Terrace years ago with their soil intact. A blossom fell into the wine cup, sending ripples across its surface.

Yuan Xizai, dressed in the magnificent robes of a scholar, brought the cup to his lips and drank the fine nectar. He caught a fallen petal between his teeth, a bright, slightly unsettling smile gracing his lips. On closer inspection, the smile seemed a bit too wide.

“Lord Yuan, I must say, you people certainly know how to live… Hmm. It’s not just the people of Chang’an who know how to enjoy life. The people of the eastern capital, Luoyang, do as well.”

The man speaking sat at the same table as Yuan Xizai. But he was clearly much larger and more robust than Yuan, with a slight paunch, a ruddy complexion, and high cheekbones. The big man gazed at the falling blossoms with slightly drunken eyes.

“These flowers, they’re a rare sight. To see them growing here is even rarer. Hic—”

The big man let out a satisfied, drunken burp. It was unclear if he was drunk on wine or the blossoms, but he seemed utterly captivated by the sight.

While his companion admired the flowers, Yuan Xizai was also watching.

But unlike the other man, Yuan Xizai preferred to watch in silence, letting his thoughts drift under the blossoms, speaking only to himself.

“If not for years of unrelenting resentment, how could these flowers ever have bloomed here?”

About a dozen years ago.

In Chang’an, there was a family with the surname Yuan, a scholarly and prestigious household.

The head of the Yuan family held a position in the Ministry of Rites and was known for his refined and gentle demeanor. Even in the corrupt and decadent court of the Great Wei, the sons of the Yuan family were like a stream of clear water, refusing to be sullied by the world.

Two very famous figures of the time had commented on the Yuan family.

One was the current Chancellor Xiao, who praised them as a “family of pure nobility, rich in poetry and etiquette.”

The other was the renowned general Su Zhenwei, who put it more bluntly: “Scholars. They’re alright.”

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And yet, behind the seemingly immaculate blue-bricked, high walls of this very family, praised by both civil and military giants, there was a hidden corner that never saw the light of day.

It was the Yuan family’s woodshed.

Or rather, it was a small hut, converted from the woodshed, for the illegitimate son of the Yuan family.

Before the age of eight, Yuan Xizai lived here. He had no formal name. The servants, for convenience, simply called him “Little Master” before he turned eight.

Little Master had no personal maids or nannies, but someone would bring him food every day.

From a very young age, Little Master learned to wash himself and change his own clothes. Later, he even learned to make simple repairs. The woodshed leaked in the summer and was short on coal in the winter. But Little Master was tough, or perhaps he simply didn’t know what comfort was. He grew up like a weed in the so-called noble Yuan family.

Raised by the Yuan family as neither a master nor a servant.

But a child is still a child. How could he be perfectly content all the time?

One year, when he was eight, Little Master grew curious. He secretly slipped past the servants and ran out of his designated area to play.

He ran through a crescent-shaped gate with white walls and grey tiles. It was only then that he discovered that beyond his small world, this residence was enormous!

Here, there were green waters and lush trees everywhere. Amidst the vibrant greenery stood pavilions and towers of varying heights. Swallows chirped from the eaves, and a warm, flowing light danced on the roof tiles. Little Master was ecstatic and astounded, his eyes wide with wonder until they ached!

So, just a few walls away.

There was a whole other world.

Of course, he wasn’t content to just look. He followed the deepest, most secluded flower path, his head turning left and right at the sound of birdsong, each step a curious exploration of his surroundings.

His footsteps halted outside a unique pavilion draped in many plain, hanging curtains. He thought the building looked like a place where immortals lived.

If immortals didn’t live here, why would there be so many light, misty gauzes fluttering in the breeze?

Little Master climbed the stairs and dazedly pushed aside a veil of gauze.

The walls on either side of the staircase were adorned with hanging scrolls bearing calligraphy. He recognized many of the characters, even if they were just the common words used by servants for accounting or buying groceries. It seemed he had a natural gift for remembering words.

“One, go…”

“Spring, wine…”

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He mumbled the words as he pushed aside the curtains.

At the top of the stairs, the curtains parted.

Before Little Master was a room filled with paintings and books.

The room was vast. Two or three young attendants stood there, but only one person was seated. He looked to be about the same age as him. He had seen him before from a distance in the residence.

But that person was dressed so well, his posture elegant, untouched by dust. He was as radiant as the bright moon. The carpet in his room was also very clean.

It made Little Master stop in his tracks.

He looked down at his own shoes, his toes peeking out. For some reason, his little face flushed red and hot.

“S-sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. After all, I am your older brother.”

“B-brother!”

So I have a family too? Little Master burst into tears.

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