Chapter 6 — TVF Chapter 6

The Love-Brained Empress (6) Qin Jingzhou had learned what he needed to know. He stood up and turned to leave without hesitation.

Second Miss Xiao and Third Miss Xiao rose as well, following their father without a second thought.

Empress Xiao had flown into a rage because her biological father called her stupid. But her outburst wasn’t truly about demanding justice—deep down, she wanted her father and sisters to coax her, placate her, flatter her, until she felt thoroughly indulged and happy again.

The palace attendants around her kept echoing her grievance, saying that her natal family didn’t understand her at all, didn’t care about her, didn’t cherish her.

Qin Jingzhou could more or less guess what Empress Xiao was really thinking—but that was precisely why he refused to play along. Earlier, he had found Noble Consort Qi’s all-men-love-me Mary Sue aura overpowering. Now, he felt that Empress Xiao’s love-brained, overgrown-child stench… was no better.

He had no intention of indulging that bad habit.

As he strode firmly toward the exit, Empress Xiao shouted behind him, “Come back! You’re not allowed to leave!”

Qin Jingzhou didn’t even turn his head.

By the time word spread throughout the harem that Empress Xiao and the Duke Cheng’en had parted on bad terms, Qin Jingzhou still hadn’t even led his daughters out of the palace gates.

Once outside, seated in their own carriage, Second Miss Xiao cautiously tugged at her father’s sleeve, worry etched on her face. “Are we really just… not going to care about Eldest Sister anymore?”

Third Miss Xiao blinked, then hugged her father’s arm outright. “Eldest Sister is really getting worse and worse.” She pointed unreservedly at her own temple. “The emperor’s disdain is practically written all over his face—has she gone blind? She can’t see it at all?!”

No matter how harsh Third Miss Xiao’s words were, they came from a sister’s frustration at another sister’s refusal to improve.

Fearing her father would stew in silence, Second Miss Xiao quickly tried to smooth things over. “Third Sister’s just angry. Eldest Sister… if only she’d sent a message home to discuss things with us.”

Leaning back against the carriage cushion, Qin Jingzhou said lightly, “The people I arranged for her back then—there isn’t a single one left in Kunning Palace now. Among them were several eunuchs and matrons who once served Emperor Taizong.”

Emperor Taizong was the current emperor’s paternal grandfather. Anyone who had served him personally was someone even the emperor had to treat with courtesy.

Qin Jingzhou continued bluntly, “A prodigal fool.”

That was no exaggeration.

Second Miss Xiao spoke gently. “They say those near vermilion turn red, those near ink turn black. I suspect the people around Eldest Sister are either the emperor’s men, or people the Qi family shoved in with ill intent.”

“They want to use your eldest sister to disgust me,” Qin Jingzhou laughed. “As if I don’t know how to disgust people myself.” With that, he lifted the carriage curtain and had the attendant guard deliver his calling card to the Prince of Lu’s residence, then ordered the carriage to head straight there.

The Prince of Lu was the current emperor’s paternal uncle, Emperor Taizong’s youngest son, and in the novel, a male supporting character who was described as half-righteous, half-scheming—hot and cold.

Of course, since the novel was written from Qi Langhuan’s perspective, the Prince of Lu’s so-called moral ambiguity simply meant that sometimes he sided with the female lead, and sometimes he didn’t. When the plot reached the point where Prince Jing’s “rebel army” entered the capital, the Prince of Lu vanished entirely, never mentioned again.

Qin Jingzhou hadn’t read many Mary Sue romance novels, but having read his share of harem face-slapping stories, he knew that these charming but not-fully-captured male supporting characters usually didn’t meet good ends.

As it happened, the Prince of Lu hadn’t even gone to his office after court that day. Southern water bandits and mountain bandits were rampant, the situation urgent as fire licking at one’s eyebrows, yet a group of useless officials—greedy for everything, wanting everything—were still arguing over how to divide the Ministry of Revenue’s silver. The noise gave him a headache, so he claimed ill health and went home.

When he received the Duke Cheng’en’s calling card, his spirits immediately lifted.

Emperor Taizong had been dead barely ten years. That generation of formidable generals had withered away one after another. The Duke Cheng’en was among the very few still alive who had personally followed the late emperor into battle.

So even knowing the duke wouldn’t visit without purpose, the Prince of Lu went out personally to welcome him.

Seeing such enthusiasm, Qin Jingzhou knew there was hope. After polite exchanges in the Prince of Lu’s outer study, he stated his request directly. “I’d like to borrow two renowned physicians from Your Highness.” He gestured to Second Miss Xiao, her face veiled. “One who specializes in external injuries, and another skilled in long-term recuperation.”

The Prince of Lu agreed without hesitation. “Done. I’ll send them over before evening.”

After Emperor Taizong passed away, many old ministers and veteran generals—including palace physicians—had submitted memorials requesting retirement. One emperor, one set of officials; being sensible had its advantages.

Indeed, most of the retired imperial physicians were gathered by the Prince of Lu. Though they weren’t officially his retainers, these seasoned doctors largely answered to him.

Since old matters had come up, it was worth mentioning a bit more.

When the old ministers and generals voluntarily stepped down, the new emperor—the current emperor’s father—was secretly delighted. The vacated posts were perfect for rewarding those who had helped him ascend the throne and his own trusted confidants.

But soon he discovered that as the veterans retired, the court lost most of its capable decision-makers. Yet he had already approved their retirement with his vermilion brush—there was no taking it back. He could only grit his teeth and muddle through.

In truth, Great Jin had begun its rapid decline the moment Emperor Taizong died.

Most people under heaven probably understood this perfectly well.

The new emperor was mediocre and sickly. After just three years on the throne, he passed it to his son and died, full of regret.

The successor—today’s emperor—was arguably even worse. At least his father hadn’t had a femme fatale at his side, constantly interfering and digging at his foundations.

That femme fatale’s destructive power was something the Prince of Lu had likely experienced firsthand. Whether he could be an ally depended on testing his attitude toward Qi Langhuan.

So Qin Jingzhou thanked him, then sighed deliberately. “Returning to Kunning Palace after all these years, not a single familiar face remains.”

The Prince of Lu laughed. “The entire inner palace belongs to Noble Consort Qi now. Not just your eldest daughter’s Kunning Palace—even the emperor’s Qianqing Palace has at least half its staff completely turned to her.”

Qin Jingzhou said pointedly, “No wonder my eldest daughter has grown dumber by the day—and more temperamental.”

The Prince of Lu spoke frankly again. “Outright poisoning? You’re still alive—she doesn’t dare. But certain fragrances that disturb the mind, paired with constant whispered persuasion… the effect has been better than I expected.”

Qin Jingzhou smiled back. “You seem very well informed.”

He had no intention of blaming the Prince of Lu for knowing the truth but not intervening. With Empress Xiao’s brain soaked full of water, even if someone risked saving her, she likely wouldn’t be grateful—and might even bite back.

The Prince of Lu said solemnly, “I am, after all, Emperor Taizong’s son.” He stood and cupped his hands. “I’ve been waiting for you to come.”

To be precise, the Prince of Lu had been Emperor Taizong’s favorite son—without equal.

Since Emperor Taizong dared to show favoritism, he naturally left his favored son a stash of resources sufficient for self-preservation.

To be safe, Qin Jingzhou reviewed the original owner’s memories again. So that was it—no wonder the Prince of Lu was so proactive. He… wasn’t very good at warfare.

After some thought, Qin Jingzhou said, “Let’s see how things go. You know I nearly got sealed alive in a coffin by my own attendants.”

In truth, the original owner hadn’t been fully dead yet when he was sealed into the coffin. Without Qin Jingzhou’s transmigration, he still wouldn’t have survived—but boxing up your boss before he’s cold is something few people, ancient or modern, would dare to do.

The Prince of Lu raised one eyebrow. “The Qi family again? What a fine scholarly clan—ever since Qi Langhuan’s father, they’ve used underhanded methods for even the smallest matters.”

Qin Jingzhou grew serious. “Exactly because they’re so shameless and despicable that it caught me off guard… I nearly capsized.”

The Prince of Lu thought for a moment, then glanced at Second Miss Xiao, his gaze flickering slightly.

Second Miss Xiao narrowed her eyes. “Your Highness, please don’t mind me. I’ve completely severed ties with the Marquis of Antai’s household.”

Only then did the Prince of Lu turn back to Qin Jingzhou. “Noble Consort Qi is… strange. The emperor has always been cold-hearted, but when it comes to her, it’s like he becomes someone else. Endless tenderness, limitless indulgence—that’s one thing. Emperors who love beauty more than the realm are nothing new. But under pillow talk alone, he promoted her father from a fifth-rank prefect all the way into the Grand Secretariat in just five years. That’s absurd. And when the consort became pregnant, he even made her eldest brother the Commander of the Imperial Guard.”

Qin Jingzhou fell silent for a moment. “That’s an extraordinary level of trust and affection. If the emperor were truly so magnanimous, why would he be wary of an old man like me, who has already handed over military authority?”

The irony was that the consort’s response to the emperor’s sincerity was… a green hat—and possibly more than one. After all, the true father of her precious son was Prince Jing.

The Prince of Lu nodded. “Later, I heard that many young nobles saw the consort at palace flower-viewing banquets and were stunned. The Marquis of Antai’s eldest son soon began frequenting the Qi household… I grew curious and tested things myself.” He didn’t keep anyone in suspense. “I always felt my imperial nephew was more handsome than the consort.”

Qin Jingzhou burst out laughing. “A hero sees eye to eye with me! After years apart, seeing him suddenly—he really is extremely good-looking.”

Mary Sue Qi Langhuan must have firmly marked the Prince of Lu in her mind. No wonder the novel described him as morally ambiguous and emotionally inconsistent.

The two of them then praised the emperor’s looks for a full incense stick’s time. The Prince of Lu, still unsatisfied, joked sourly, “If I were a bit better-looking, could I have become your son-in-law?”

Qin Jingzhou studied him for a moment. “You’re quite good-looking. But it doesn’t matter whether I find you pleasing—it matters whether my daughters do.”

Second Miss Xiao and Third Miss Xiao sat to the side, listening as their father and the Prince of Lu rambled further and further off topic. Second Miss Xiao murmured to her sister, “They actually get along pretty well.”

Third Miss Xiao whispered back, “Father wouldn’t… team up with the Marquis of Antai’s household, then go to the Prince of Lu, would he? Sister, I feel like…”

Second Miss Xiao laughed, the movement tugging painfully at her wound. She carefully supported her chin. “I also feel like the entertainment value will be considerable.”

After settling matters, Qin Jingzhou stayed for a meal, then returned home with his daughters.

Because he had gone straight from the palace to the Prince of Lu’s residence without hiding it, it didn’t take long for even the emperor to learn that the Duke Cheng’en and the Prince of Lu were “on very close terms.”

The emperor had been plagued by water bandits and mountain bandits lately. Even knowing that the true backers behind them were largely his own relatives—imperial clansmen and in-laws—he understood that to negotiate, he first had to suppress some of them, kill a chicken to warn the monkeys.

Despite favoring the Qi family, he knew their limitations: very few of them understood military affairs. No matter how reluctant he was, with grain and military pay already stretched thin, the battle-hardened Duke Cheng’en remained the best choice to lead troops. The first battle could not be lost.

The emperor reclined, lost in thought, when Noble Consort Qi arrived, supported by palace maids.

She sat directly beside him and explained softly, “Little Six cried for a bit… he’s getting harder to soothe. I wonder who he takes after.”

Thinking of the chubby infant in swaddling clothes, the emperor relaxed somewhat. “Raising children is tiring. Rest more—slack off when you can.”

She smiled. “Alright.” Taking his hand, she asked gently, “Why do you look so worried?”

The emperor shook his head and told her frankly what troubled him.

At the mention of the Prince of Lu, the consort ground her teeth. He was the only man so far who had resisted her charm.

Hatred leaked through her expression. Realizing it, she quickly lowered her head against the emperor’s shoulder. “Since the Duke Cheng’en and the Prince of Lu are so close, why not send them together? Calculate things well—wouldn’t mutual destruction be ideal? If the duke is unwilling, let the empress persuade him. Oh, right—his second daughter married into the Marquis of Antai’s household. Your Majesty could apply pressure from both sides, and have the marquis contribute as well. Little Six’s hundred-day banquet is coming—why not make it clear there?”

What a brilliant idea! The emperor pondered and found it both effective and economical. If he spoke, the empress would obey. If the empress pressed relentlessly, the Duke—who always doted on his daughters—would likely compromise sooner or later. As for the Marquis of Antai, he was merely icing on the cake.

The emperor’s mood brightened. He praised her sincerely. “The consort truly is my virtuous helper—my female strategist!”

Her eyes sparkled. “Your Majesty loves and respects me; my natal family has risen along with me…” She covered her mouth and laughed. “How could I not give my all in service to my lord?”

Inside, she cursed: Fine words! Xiao has already grown this stupid—yet you still won’t make up your mind to make me empress! Three days later would be the Sixth Prince’s hundred-day banquet. Invitations had already gone out. Adding the Duke Cheng’en’s family posed no problem.

That afternoon, while Qin Jingzhou was chatting with the two elderly physicians recommended by the Prince of Lu, the emperor’s trusted chief eunuch personally delivered the invitation.

The emperor’s people generally had decent emotional intelligence. They came politely and left politely, without causing trouble.

Qin Jingzhou had the head steward arrange neighboring courtyards for the physicians, then gathered his children and showed them the imperial invitation.

“The wording is so polite—it seems he needs me.”

Eldest Young Master Xiao couldn’t hide his concern. “The emperor wants you to lead troops south. If you refuse, Eldest Sister will probably… cry, make a scene, and threaten suicide.”

Qin Jingzhou laughed. “You know her well.”

Though years had passed, after just one day together Eldest Young Master Xiao already believed his father was reasonable and still trying to be fair. “When I moved to the suburban estate to recuperate, I also wanted to stay far away from Eldest Sister.”

Qin Jingzhou patted his eldest son’s shoulder and said to all his children, “No need to worry. The emperor probably heard that I met with the Prince of Lu and grew jealous, wanting to tie the two of us together and toss us south to die.” He sighed. “Sometimes you have to admit—stupidity is contagious. The emperor likely never considered that I’d make demands. He must have thought I was easy to deal with—so easy that he could toy with me as he does your eldest sister. This time, I’ll insist that Grand Secretary Qi and Commander Qi accompany me. Otherwise, I won’t go.”

If he pulled that move publicly at the hundred-day banquet, the emperor’s, the consort’s, and the Qi family’s reactions would surely be entertaining.