ITVCFITB CHAPTER 91

 Chapter 91 — A “Kind” Reminder

The Longevity Stele scheme was Shen Mingyun’s way of lashing back. He still couldn’t swallow the humiliation of being outplayed by Luo Shuyu last time, Fourth Prince got scolded by the Emperor, then came home and gave him attitude, so Shen decided to strike first and “teach” Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu a lesson.

What would make His Majesty wary of Li Mingjin? He racked his brains.

With the System’s intel, he knew exactly what Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu had accomplished in Gucheng. If it were anyone else, he might have praised them, but rage had him blinkered. All he could see was the Fourth Prince blaming him, and the prospect of losing the empress’s seat. He was the protagonist; he wouldn’t be knocked off the board. He could palace-intrigue with the best of them.

As the Fourth Prince Consort, battling Luo Shuyu was palace intrigue, motivational, even! And he wouldn’t tell the Fourth in advance; success would be a surprise gift.

Finally, he landed on it: erect a Longevity Stele for Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu right under the imperial nose. Let the Emperor “see” their imperial ambition and recoil. Then all favor would swing back to the Fourth, heir apparent, within reach. Two birds, one stone. Brilliant!

Or so he told himself. He didn’t pause to consider the current winds of public sentiment, or the centuries of local craftiness in palace games. He had no idea his move wouldn’t roast the Third Prince, it would roast the Fourth.

After the miscarriage rumors, the Fourth had already been summoned and chewed out. Now came the stele. Who would believe the Third had raised a monument to himself? He’d lived in Gucheng six years; if anyone were going to build him a stele, it’d be those people, hardly someone who ignored it in Gucheng but ran to the capital to do it. The timing, exactly when the Third returned, reeked. Even if it reached the throne, His Majesty would never buy that Li Mingjin ordered it. And with the Fourth already on thin ice, suspicion naturally slid his way.

The Fourth heard about the stele, wondered which idiot had done Li Mingjin such a favor then learned it was his own consort. He nearly spat blood. Worse than being called bald by Third Brother.

What was Shen Mingyun thinking?

This was the moment for lying low, not gaudy frame-ups. If the plot had been perfect, he might have stomached it. But a Longevity Stele? Childish and crude.

And now a “thank-you gift” arrived from the Third Prince’s household. The Third already knew who did it. The Fourth’s scalp shed in sheets; his nerves were shot. Thankfully, there’d be a willing blossom to soothe him that night; otherwise he didn’t know how he’d stomach another summons and scolding.

This time, the Emperor didn’t even bother to scold, just froze him out. The Fourth spent each court session on edge. The Third’s glance was cold, the Emperor’s gaze slid past him; beyond necessary state business, His Majesty couldn’t be bothered.

So the Fourth carried switches on his back to the imperial study and begged punishment, taking Shen Mingyun’s idiocy on himself. He couldn’t afford to lose his father’s trust.

The Emperor was grudgingly moved, but still laid on five strokes as a warning.

Five was enough. The pampered skin tore; Shen Mingyun sobbed so loudly the beams might shake, while the Fourth lay face-down, earplugs of his own hands in place, letting the physicians salve his back and pretending he didn’t hear.

He had no emotion left for Shen Mingyun, just weariness and disgust at such witlessness.

Even Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu hadn’t expected the Fourth to play the self-flagellation card. The stele incident was brushed aside, mostly because Mid-Autumn was upon them.

In his current “family-yearning” phase, the Emperor would certainly hold a reunion feast. He had lost two sons, but many others were grown; add to that Li Mingjin’s return, and His Majesty felt, for once, like he had a whole table again. Why spoil the mood by harping on the Fourth?

People are people; emperors aren’t immune.

Luo Shuyu and Li Mingjin had only spent one Mid-Autumn in the capital since marrying, right after the wedding. Six years later, their mindset was utterly different. Now they had ballast, and confidence, no longer rootless duckweed.

On the day itself, Luo Shuyu eyed the mooncakes spread across the table, every flavor imaginable, and felt complicated.

“Are you sure we’re bringing these to Consort Mei?” he asked for the second time.

“Of course,” Li Mingjin said. “I picked the flavors myself. Mother may not love them, but Father will try anything.”

“…You’re forcing His Majesty to share your tastes.”

“I am not.”

“Yesterday you offered them to Cousin Chen and Doctor Lin. They refused to touch them. So you set your sights on Father.”

“They lack discernment. These are delicacies.”

Luo Shuyu stared at a freshly baked stinky tofu mooncake and gave him a look. “You’re sure…”

“I hear the shop sold out. People love the special flavors.” He started counting. “Durian. Fruit-wine. One with vinegar. Chili, you can’t have that. Fine, at least eat the five-kernel.”

“No, thanks. I’m full.”

“You’re missing one of life’s great pleasures.”

“Save me a red-bean.”

“Not even a vinegar one?”

“No.”

The servants were dying trying not to laugh. Li Mingjin had already pushed the oddities into their bakery; sales were… energetic. Luo Shuyu didn’t puncture the dream: people weren’t buying for love, but for the tag “Third Prince’s Favorite.”

They went to the palace two hours early. His Majesty had even set aside a side hall for Luo Shuyu to rest; everyone knew the Emperor would cherish this grandchild whether son, ger, or daughter.

This was also why the Fourth took the beating himself. He’d love to plead guilty to Li Mingjin too, but didn’t dare. If Third Brother took a “misjudged swing” and crippled him, then what? He chose his audiences with care.

Li Mingjin, for his part, scarcely spared the Fourth a thought. All that mattered was his spouse and the child. Everything else was dust to be brushed off.

Consort Mei arrived with trays of steaming dishes and pastries. “I heard you get hungry between meals,” she said with a smile. “There’s still a while before the feast, so I had the kitchens prepare snacks.”

The table groaned. Like mother, like son, Luo Shuyu thought weakly. He protested the waste; Consort Mei waved at Li Mingjin. “He’ll finish it.”

Before they could dent the pile, the chief eunuch arrived with another troop of pages. “By His Majesty’s command, more nibbles for the Third Prince Consort.”

By the time they were done arranging, the table was packed to the edges. “If it isn’t enough,” the eunuch added, “His Majesty says you may have his little kitchen open a fire.”

“…Thank His Majesty. This is plenty,” Luo Shuyu managed. Then shot Li Mingjin a look that said, You told everyone I’m bottomless, didn’t you? Li Mingjin, suddenly fascinated by the floor, pleaded the fifth.

Once they were alone, Luo Shuyu nudged him and pointed at the mountain. “Look what you did.”

“I’ll help,” he said meekly.

“Better.”

They ate. A lot.

---

Hearing the Third had arrived early, the Fourth hustled Shen Mingyun along. No more fashionably late entrances. They’d been floating on flattery too long and only now saw their true opponents. The Emperor’s favor for Li Mingjin could be measured by his tenderness toward the unborn child, blindingly obvious, in hindsight.

From here on out, avoid clashes… as much as jealousy allowed.

“Stop fiddling with your hair ornaments,” he snapped when Shen Mingyun dithered. “Can’t you be brisk like Third Sister-in-law?”

“Oh, now you compare me to him?” Shen shot back. “I won’t become that white-lotus, green-tea act. Regretting you didn’t marry him?”

“You’re impossible.”

“You started it. If you didn’t dawdle—”

“We can’t lag behind them anywhere.”

Shen Mingyun smirked. “Our son’s already big. You’re afraid of the baby in Luo Shuyu’s belly? Who knows if he’ll make it to term?”

“With that level of care? He will.” The Fourth was exhausted by the topic.

“Have you heard how much he eats? Constant tonics. If the baby grows too big to deliver, one corpse two lives. Think about it.”

He’d lifted it straight from courtyard-drama novels, let him supplement, supplement well.

The Fourth actually found it clever. If Luo Shuyu over-nourished the child and couldn’t deliver, Father would keep doting on his son. Their bickering birthed a plan, and the Fourth cooed Shen into a good mood on the way to court.

Before the feast, the two were seated near Luo Shuyu.

“Cousin,” Shen said sweetly, eyes on the belly, “you’re too thin. Eat more.”

Luo Shuyu, remembering his pre-pregnancy figure, silently vowed not to overeat and to keep walking the courtyards every day. He smiled. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Shen preened, sure the lesson had landed.

---

Author’s Note:

Third Prince: Wife, in game I’m War God. You’re a white-lotus. At the offline meetup, you try to seduce me while I’m drunk. I refuse, on principle!
Luo Shuyu: Then I give up and chat up the sunny, handsome guy sitting next to you.
Third Prince: No! No third parties in our love!
Luo Shuyu: So… do you agree or not?
Third Prince: I… agree.
Luo Shuyu: Good. Pants off.
Third Prince: …

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