After Tianmiao went upstairs, Dong Xiao ran to Kong Hou's side, squatted down, and watched Kong Hou repair the door frame, sighing as he watched, "Ah, the door is finally fixed. From now on, it won't creak every time it's opened—that atmosphere was just terrible. People might think we're running a shady business."
Kong Hou thought of the asymmetrical couplet at the door, and the large golden ingot shining brightly, and rolled his eyes. Actually, people would think they were running a shady business just from seeing that couplet, right? As for that golden ingot, anyone would think it's fake. In reality, it was made of real gold. Only the Boss would be so unconventional.
"However, this time it's quite relaxing. There's conveniently a Qilin with unfulfilled wishes, so the Qilin can go instead. The Boss can take a break, and we can also find some time to play mahjong with those in the backyard," Kong Hou said happily as he drove in the last nail.
"Alright, I'll bring the Boss some food first, then I'll find you in the backyard." Dong Xiao got up and went to the kitchen; the pastries they baked earlier should be done by now, and he quickly brought them up while still hot for the Boss.
"Wait, I'll make the tea so you can take it up as well." Kong Hou got up and ran to the kitchen too.
Their culinary skills were different, each with their own responsibilities, and they spent a lot of effort researching various foods and drinks. After all, their Boss had a particular taste for them.
...
When Prince De sat on the dragon throne to receive the courtiers' obeisance, his heart was filled with mixed emotions. Just over ten days ago, he was all alone, with no way out, and now... the world had turned around. The Noble Consort who falsely delivered the emperor's decrees, and the Eighth Prince, were already imprisoned in the Heavenly Prison awaiting their fate.
He recalled the scene of that day. That woman who had been glorious for most of her life, the most favored concubine of the late Emperor, appeared so incredulous and mad when the tide turned against her, still vivid in memory.
"No, impossible! The throne should be my son's, only my son can be the Emperor." The Noble Consort who was always elegant and regal now looked ferocious, no longer carrying her former dignity.
But the Eighth Prince seemed resigned. Seeing his bedraggled consort mother, he couldn't help but laugh madly, angrily shouting, "I told you long ago, that person only doted on you, never intending to pass the throne to me. You didn't listen; you insisted on fighting. What doesn't belong to us will never belong to us." If he hadn't been swayed by his mother's words, could he still be a Prince?
At that moment, the Eighth Prince regretted more than ever. His father genuinely loved him and had thought of their future even after his death. He would have the new Emperor bestow him as a Prince, and let him take his mother back to the Prince Mansion to live out their lives peacefully. But his mother was not satisfied. When their father died, she seized the Jade Seal while Prince De was out inspecting, falsely decreed his capture, regardless of life or death, accusing him of treason with foreign powers.
Now he was a prisoner—he deserved it.
If his father knew in heaven, would he be heartbroken, would he be deeply disappointed?
"Brother, I'm sorry..." This was the last thing the Eighth Prince said to Prince De.
He received no response.
He knew that knowing one was wrong did not necessarily bring forgiveness. That night, the Eighth Prince quietly took his own life in the prison, and the once calm Noble Consort went mad upon hearing the news.
This ambitious woman was indeed power-hungry, but she also truly loved her child. With the situation beyond recovery, her only attachment and hope also disappeared like this, naturally leaving her unable to withstand the blow. Yet she refused to accept this cruel reality.