Chapter 10 : why her
The soft morning light filtered through the corridors of the palace as Wei Zhi made his way to the common room where today's lesson would take place. Literature, etiquette, geography subjects that should have been a relief from the brutal physical trainings he usually endured. Unlike the torturous sessions under his mother's supervision, these lessons were for all the children of the royal family. In theory, it should have been an opportunity to relax his mind and showcase his natural intelligence. Yet, despite his gifted mind, there was something about today that filled him with a quiet unease.
His little sister, Zhuāng Měi, was joining them for the first time.
The royal family had a strict rule once a child turned three, they had to begin attending lessons in the common room. Zhuāng Měi had just turned four, and today was her first official day of study. On the surface, it should have been a normal occasion, even a celebratory one. But for Wei Zhi, it was anything but.
Zhuāng Měi had always given off an unusual presence, one that sent shivers down his spine. For a child so young, her aura was... suffocating. It was as if there was something lurking beneath her innocent exterior, something dark and unsettling. It wasn't just her icy demeanor, or the way her gaze seemed too knowing for someone her age it was a feeling, an invisible weight that hung in the air when she was around.
Wei Zhi shook off the thought as he approached the common room. The large wooden doors were already open, and inside, he could see his siblings seated at the long table where the royal tutors were preparing the day's lesson. His brother, Zhuāng Hào, sat near the front, idly flipping through a book, while Xuán Lì, the son of the Emperor's other concubine, appeared absorbed in a map of the empire.
Zhuāng Měi was seated next to their eldest brother. Her small frame was almost dwarfed by the ornate chair, but her posture was unnaturally stiff, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked like a porcelain doll, with her dark hair carefully braided and her clothes pristine. But it was her eyes those cold, unblinking eyes that gave Wei Zhi pause. She glanced up briefly as he entered, and their gazes met for a fraction of a second. It was enough to make his stomach twist.
Wei Zhi took his seat across from her, trying to focus on the lesson ahead. Their tutor, a stern-faced scholar named Liáng, stood before them, preparing to start the lecture on the empire's trade routes and the delicate balance of diplomacy between the nations.
Despite his outward calm, Wei Zhi's thoughts kept drifting back to his sister. He couldn't understand why, but there was something about her that made him wary. She had always been quiet, even as a baby, rarely crying or making a fuss. Most of the palace staff adored her for her serene nature, calling her a perfect little princess. But Wei Zhi had seen glimpses of something else moments where Zhuāng Měi's cold gaze would settle on someone, and the air around her seemed to chill. It was subtle, but it was there.
"Today we will begin with the analysis of the empire's economic influence in neighboring territories," Liáng began, his voice as dry as the scrolls in his hands. "Pay attention, for this knowledge will be essential in future diplomatic endeavors."
Wei Zhi tried to focus, but his eyes kept darting back to Zhuāng Měi. She sat perfectly still, her small hands resting on the table, her eyes lowered as if listening intently. Yet, Wei Zhi could feel it again that oppressive, suffocating aura. His skin prickled, and he fought the urge to shiver. It made no sense, but in that moment, he felt as though she were more dangerous than anyone else in the room.
As the lesson continued, Zhuāng Měi's voice cut through the silence. "Tutor Liáng, may I ask a question?" Her voice was sweet, almost melodic, but it sent a chill down Wei Zhi's spine.
"Of course, Princess Měi," Liáng replied, seemingly oblivious to the tension that Wei Zhi felt.
"If the empire's economy is dependent on foreign trade, wouldn't that make us vulnerable to manipulation by those nations?" Zhuāng Měi's eyes flicked up, meeting the tutor's gaze directly. "Shouldn't we find ways to make them dependent on us instead?"
There was a pause. Wei Zhi looked at her in surprise. The question was astute far too astute for a four-year-old. Liáng cleared his throat, clearly taken aback.
"An excellent observation, Princess," he stammered, trying to recover. "But such matters are complex, and..."
Wei Zhi's mind raced. How could she think like this? At her age? His unease deepened. He could feel the other siblings shifting slightly, exchanging glances, but Zhuāng Měi sat with a calm, almost predatory stillness.
Wei Zhi clenched his fists under the table. There was something wrong, he was sure of it. He didn't know what it was, but his instincts screamed that his little sister was not what she appeared to be. And that suffocating aura he could feel it growing, as if the very air in the room was becoming harder to breathe.
"Focus, Wei Zhi," he muttered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away. But it was no use.
Something was coming. And somehow, he knew Zhuāng Měi was at the center of it all.
Though Wei Zhi's thoughts were preoccupied with the unsettling presence of his sister, he remained sharp and attentive as the lesson progressed. Despite the tension in the room, his intellect shone through with remarkable clarity. Tutor Liáng shifted the focus to an intricate analysis of the empire's geographic positioning and its strategic advantages.
"Now, can anyone explain how the natural barriers surrounding Huìyǔ prevent foreign invasions and also impact trade routes with the Western Nations?" Tutor Liáng asked, his gaze sweeping over the children.
Zhuāng Hào looked hesitant, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the information. Xuán Lì gave a half-hearted attempt, "The mountains protect us from... enemies?"
Liáng gave a noncommittal nod, though it was clear he expected more.
Without missing a beat, Wei Zhi spoke up, his voice calm and precise. "It's not just the mountains. The river systems create a natural network of barriers and pathways. Our empire uses those rivers not only for defense but also to facilitate rapid transport of goods. The elevation differences allow us to control the flow of water, giving us the upper hand in negotiating with the Western Nations, who rely on trade via those very rivers. It's not merely about protection from invasion it's about ensuring economic dominance over any potential rival."
There was a brief silence in the room as Tutor Liáng blinked, clearly impressed. "That is... correct, Prince Wei Zhi. Very astute."
But it was more than just correct it was the kind of insight that set Wei Zhi apart from the rest. His ability to grasp the complexities of political and geographic strategies, to see the connections others missed, was a testament to his genius. Even his siblings, who often found themselves outpaced by his quick thinking, exchanged looks of begrudging respect.
Zhuāng Měi, however, remained silent, her gaze unreadable. Wei Zhi couldn't shake the feeling that she was observing him, assessing him in some way.
He turned his attention back to the tutor, eager to focus on the lesson rather than the strange tension in the air. Despite everything despite the turmoil in his home life, the brutal training, and the cold distance of his mother Wei Zhi's mind remained a fortress of brilliance. His intellect was unmatched, his ability to analyze and comprehend far beyond that of any of his peers. It was this sharp mind that allowed him to navigate the treacherous waters of the royal court, even if his body bore the scars of other battles.
It was a double-edged sword. His genius marked him as special, but it also set him apart, isolating him from his siblings and, in many ways, from the rest of the world. And though his sister's suffocating aura unnerved him, Wei Zhi knew that if anything could help him survive the dangers ahead, it was his mind.
The lessons continued, and with each passing topic, it became clear that Wei Zhi and his sister, Zhuāng Měi, were locked in a quiet competition. Though Zhuāng Měi had only recently started attending the lessons, her intellect was not to be underestimated. She absorbed knowledge quickly, always on the lookout for an opportunity to outshine her older brother.
The next lesson was on classical literature, an area where Wei Zhi typically excelled. Tutor Liáng wrote a complex verse on the board, an ancient poem full of metaphors and layered meaning. He turned to the group and asked, "Who can interpret this stanza?"
Before anyone could speak, Zhuāng Měi's hand shot up. "The poem speaks of the balance between power and restraint," she said confidently. "It compares the ruler to a tree strong in its roots but flexible in its branches. The tree doesn't break in the wind because it knows how to bend without losing its core."
Tutor Liáng raised an eyebrow, impressed. "A fine interpretation, Princess Zhuāng Měi."
Wei Zhi watched her with a sharp, calculating gaze. She wasn't wrong, but there was more to the poem than what she had offered. He raised his own hand and spoke with the same calm confidence. "She's correct, but there's a deeper meaning. The poem also draws a parallel between the seasons of the tree and the ruler's reign. The spring represents the flourishing of a prosperous kingdom, while autumn hints at the inevitable decline reminding the ruler to prepare for the fall, as strength is temporary. True power lies in knowing when to yield and when to stand firm."
The tutor smiled, clearly pleased. "Excellent, Prince Wei Zhi. You have revealed a critical layer in the text. Both of you have done well."
Zhuāng Měi's eyes flickered for a moment. There was no visible reaction, but Wei Zhi could feel the subtle tension growing between them. Though her answer was good, his was more nuanced and she knew it. It wasn't that she couldn't keep up, but rather that she wasn't used to being second.
The competition wasn't over.
Next came a lesson on imperial etiquette, a subject in which Zhuāng Měi excelled due to her poised nature. The children were instructed to demonstrate the proper greeting etiquette for a foreign dignitary. Zhuāng Měi performed with flawless precision, her movements elegant, her demeanor regal. Tutor Liáng nodded approvingly.
When it was Wei Zhi's turn, he knew he couldn't match her grace, but his strategy was different. His bow was deep, respectful, but when he rose, he added something unexpected a subtle yet strategic gesture that conveyed both respect and quiet authority, the kind of gesture that would impress a foreign leader.
"Well done, Prince Wei Zhi," the tutor remarked. "Your gesture reflects not only the proper etiquette but a subtle command over the situation. It shows not just respect but calculated strength."
Zhuāng Měi's expression remained calm, but Wei Zhi could sense the frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. They were both vying for the upper hand, and it seemed that every time one of them pulled ahead, the other would find a way to level the playing field.
But before the competition could continue, the air in the room shifted.
The doors to the study swung open with a heavy thud, and the children immediately fell silent. The sound of boots echoed through the room, and a commanding presence entered. All eyes turned toward the figure at the door Emperor Wei Shū.
The tutor quickly bowed, his voice humble. "Your Majesty, it is an honor."
The children followed suit, all of them lowering themselves into respectful bows. Wei Zhi felt his heart pound slightly faster in his chest. His father didn't often visit their lessons, and when he did, it was usually to assess their progress something that filled Wei Zhi with a mix of anticipation and dread.
"Rise," the emperor commanded, his voice deep and authoritative. He stepped forward, his regal robes flowing behind him, embroidered with symbols of dragons and imperial power. His gaze swept across the room, pausing briefly on each of his children.
When his eyes landed on Wei Zhi, the emperor's expression was unreadable, as it always was. Wei Zhi could never tell what his father truly thought of him. The weight of his gaze felt heavier than usual today, and Wei Zhi instinctively straightened, trying not to show any sign of weakness.
"I hear the lessons have been... productive," the emperor said slowly, his voice carrying a hint of expectation.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Tutor Liáng replied, keeping his head bowed. "Your children are all progressing remarkably well."
The emperor's gaze flickered to Zhuāng Měi, then back to Wei Zhi, as if silently weighing them against one another. The tension in the room thickened.
As the emperor entered the room, his presence immediately commanded attention. He was dressed in imperial robes of deep gold and black, the dragon embroidery shimmering under the soft light, radiating an aura of unmatched authority. Following closely behind him was Concubine Zhuāng Qīng. She was breathtaking, wearing lavish reddish-golden robes adorned with rubies that caught the light, sparkling with every graceful step. Her beauty was undeniable, but to Wei Zhi, it was hollow a mask that hid her true intentions.
Wei Zhi's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her, his mind immediately alert. He never liked her, not just because she was the catalyst for his mother's outbursts ,outbursts that inevitably left him bruised and scarred but because, even at his young age, he could see through her. He recognized the cunning behind her delicate smiles, the way she schemed with subtlety, always positioning herself and her children for favor in the court.
Despite his tender years, Wei Zhi had an unusually sharp mind, capable of reading the intricacies of human behavior with precision. He knew that Concubine Zhuāng Qīng was not to be trusted. The way she looked at the emperor, always with a hint of calculation beneath her adoring gaze, made his skin crawl.
As she moved forward to take her place beside the emperor, Zhuāng Qīng shot a fleeting glance toward Wei Zhi and his siblings. It was almost imperceptible, but Wei Zhi caught it just the slightest flicker of smug satisfaction that irritated him. He could see through the act, the sweet words she spoke to the emperor, and the way she maneuvered through the court like a shadow, always one step ahead.
He clenched his fist slightly, though his face remained impassive, a mask of calm that he had learned to wear well. She thinks she's so clever, he thought, watching her movements carefully. But I know what you are.
Just then, the emperor's voice echoed through the room, calm yet commanding. "Children," he began, his deep tone settling over the group, "today, you will be studying not just the arts of ruling, but what it means to be a true leader of this empire." His gaze fell upon each child in turn, but when it landed on Wei Zhi, there was a slight pause, as if he were searching for something in the boy's eyes.
Concubine Zhuāng Qīng, standing beside the emperor, gave a delicate smile as she added, "It is important to grasp the weight of responsibility that comes with power. Some are born to it, while others..." She let her words hang in the air, casting a subtle glance at Wei Zhi, her meaning clear, but her words veiled in politeness.
Wei Zhi met her gaze evenly, his mind calculating quickly. He knew what she was implying that despite his royal blood, he was less favored, less important than her children. But instead of reacting, he kept his posture straight, his expression neutral, masking the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He had grown adept at hiding his emotions, especially in the presence of those who would use them against him.
You may think you've won today, he thought, his sharp eyes watching her closely, but I see everything.
Wei Zhi's jaw tightened, though he forced his face to remain impassive. The air around him felt thick, heavy with the tension Zhuāng Qīng had so delicately sewn into the conversation. She was dangerous he had always known that. But she was also subtle, never openly hostile, always hiding her venom behind a mask of gentle grace.
The emperor, for his part, seemed unmoved by the subtle jab. His expression remained unreadable, a mask of imperial dignity that revealed nothing of his inner thoughts. "Each of you has a role to play in the future of this empire," he continued, his voice even. "But remember, responsibility is not a birthright. It must be earned through wisdom, strength, and the ability to lead."
As he spoke, the emperor turned and began walking slowly down the length of the room, his eyes shifting from one child to the next, assessing them in silence. Wei Zhi stood perfectly still, every muscle in his body tense as he awaited his father's gaze. He could feel the weight of expectation pressing down on him, suffocating in its intensity.
Then, the emperor stopped in front of him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The emperor's eyes bore into his, as if searching for something some flicker of potential, some sign that Wei Zhi was worthy of the burden placed upon him. Wei Zhi's heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to look away. His father had always been a distant figure, one who demanded perfection but offered little in the way of affection or praise. And now, standing before him, Wei Zhi felt the full weight of those expectations, crushing and relentless.
"You are the eldest son of the Empress," the emperor said finally, his voice low but firm. "Your role in this empire is greater than you understand. It is time you begin to act like it."
Wei Zhi bowed his head slightly, acknowledging his father's words, though inside he seethed. I already act like it, he thought bitterly. Every day, I endure the punishments, the beatings, the cruelty. All because of my mother. And yet you say nothing. You do nothing.
Concubine Zhuāng Qīng's voice broke the moment, light and melodic as ever. "Oh, Your Majesty, don't be too harsh on him," she cooed, stepping closer with a graceful smile. "After all, he's still young. There's time for him to grow into his role."
The emperor glanced at her briefly, but it was clear that he held little interest in her words. "Growth comes through trial, Zhuāng Qīng," he replied, his tone clipped. "He will learn in time, as all must."
Wei Zhi's hands tightened into fists again, his nails digging into his palms. He hated the way she tried to insert herself into every conversation, the way she played both sides pretending to care, but always scheming in the background.
Zhuāng Hào, her son, stood beside her, watching the exchange with a faint smile on his lips. He was younger than Wei Zhi, but already there was an air of arrogance about him, as if he knew he held a special place in his mother's schemes. Wei Zhi could see it in the way he stood, the way his eyes flickered with amusement whenever his mother belittled someone, especially him.
The emperor turned his attention back to the room, addressing all the children again. "You will study hard today, and remember that each lesson you learn brings you one step closer to the responsibilities you must bear in the future."
With that, he turned to leave, his long robes trailing behind him like shadows. Concubine Zhuāng Qīng followed close behind, casting one last look over her shoulder at Wei Zhi, her lips curling into a sly smile. It was a look that said, I'm watching you. And I will win.
As the door closed behind them, the room was left in silence, the tension lingering like an unspoken threat. Wei Zhi stood still, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge, of power, of proving that no matter how much Zhuāng Qīng schemed, she would never control him.
But deep down, he also knew that as long as his mother was weak, as long as he remained under her shadow, there would always be those who looked down on him those who saw him as the son of a fallen Empress, unworthy of the throne.
I will prove them wrong, he vowed silently. One day, I will rise above all of them. And when that day comes, even Zhuāng Qīng will bow before me.