"It was indeed this official who said it. What of it?"
Unaware of the storm he had just summoned, the Crown Prince Preceptor spoke with righteous indignation.
"Whether painting or calligraphy, this work is inferior to the scrawls of a three-year-old. As for the so-called story depicted within, it is nothing but utter nonsense. From start to finish, the only words I can offer are: an eyesore."
"Are you certain?"
Yun Shu tilted her head slightly, then turned her gaze to the Crown Prince and the woman standing beside him.
"Crown Prince Royal Brother, Side Consort Shen, is that your assessment as well?"
"I appreciate Fifth Sister's kind gesture," the Crown Prince replied with a pause, his tone faint and detached. "However, it is true the painting could use further refinement."
"You speak the truth," Shen Jingshu murmured, lifting a hand to lightly cover her lips, as if to conceal the amusement glinting in her eyes. Her expression remained composed, but her gaze betrayed the mockery she no longer bothered to hide. "Her Highness's work... appears rather juvenile."
"Juvenile, is it?"
Yun Shu turned the scroll over, pretending to study it again with furrowed brows. Then, as if suddenly enlightened, she exclaimed, "Ah, now I understand. No wonder the lot of you thought I painted it. You didn't see the whole thing."
With a cheerful flick, she unrolled the scroll further. The crowd watched as a new portion of the painting came into view—paper that had previously been hidden inside the roll.
This section bore no crude brushwork, no childish script. Instead, a single red seal stood proudly stamped at the bottom, and within it, four dignified characters had been etched:
"Seal of Yun Zhuoyuan."
Yun Shu pronounced each word aloud with care.
"Why does that name sound familiar?" murmured Yun Chuhuan, tilting his head with innocent confusion.
"Familiar, isn't it?" Yun Shu replied with a bright smile. "Perhaps because it belongs to our Father Emperor."
"Right! Our Father—Wait. Father Emperor?!"
The realization struck Yun Chuhuan like lightning. He jerked upright as though someone had slapped him.
"You—You stole Father Emperor's personal seal?!"
"What nonsense are you babbling?"
Yun Shu raised her empty hand and gave his head a brisk slap.
"This painting," she said, shaking the scroll proudly, "was a special commission. I asked Father Emperor to create it for Imperial Brother's wedding celebration."
"Impossible!"
Even the Preceptor, who moments ago had spoken so confidently, faltered in disbelief. Desperately, he grasped for a counterargument.
"His Majesty's painting technique is second to none! How could he produce such a work—one that matches the Princess's style so exactly?"
Yun Shu shrugged. "Father Emperor has seen this Princess's past works. He found them amusing, so he tried painting in a similar manner for once."
"Then how do you explain the calligraphy?"
The Preceptor still refused to yield. "His Majesty's script is forceful and graceful, akin to a startled swan or a soaring dragon. Yet this—"
"Was written with Father Emperor's left hand," Yun Shu interjected sweetly, feigning modesty. "Perhaps this Princess's style lacked the grandeur to match 'startled swans and soaring dragons,' so Father Emperor chose to write with his less skilled hand, to keep the scroll harmonious."
"But—"
"This painting," Yun Shu cut in again, her voice light but firm, "was personally bestowed to this Princess in the imperial study not long ago. Sixth Brother can testify to it."
That final remark shattered any sliver of hope the Preceptor clung to.
Yun Shu's lips curved in a slow, deliberate smile as she said softly, "You need not worry, Preceptor. Everything you said about Father Emperor's work—this Princess shall repeat it verbatim to him. Not a word shall be twisted or exaggerated."
The Preceptor stood frozen.
Repeat it verbatim? Was that not worse?
After all, he had described it plainly as "an eyesore."
What now? Could he still take his words back?
Panicked, he turned instinctively toward the Crown Prince, hoping for a cue.
But the Crown Prince no longer spared the situation even a glance.
For the Preceptor, the insult lay in offending the Emperor. He feared bearing a grudge.
But for the Crown Prince—he already bore it.
His clenched fists rested on his knees, the veins beneath his skin taut from suppressed fury.
His mind echoed with the words Imperial Father had spoken in the imperial study. That he opposed the marriage between him and Shen Jingshu not from malice, but out of fear that their union as cousins would produce children cursed with defects.
That he had never seen him as a threat.
That he had failed to live up to Imperial Father's hopes.
And now, on what should have been a joyous wedding day, Imperial Father had gifted him a painting with a clear title: "The dog bites Lü Dongbin, ungrateful to those who mean well."
A message as blunt as it was humiliating.
Before the gathered court, before nobles and peers, Imperial Father had shamed him.
A man might forgive many things. This was not one of them.
How could Imperial Father humiliate him so publicly while expecting him to believe there had never been any intention to strip him of his title?
Even if there had been no such thought before...
Perhaps now there was.
The Crown Prince's face darkened to a frightening degree. None among his retinue dared speak. Officials of the Eastern Palace bowed their heads like ostriches burying themselves in sand.
Even the usually gleeful Eldest Prince and others who had watched this drama unfold with relish now fell silent, cowed by the stifling tension. Their eyes flitted nervously between the Crown Prince and Yun Shu.
Only Yun Shu remained unfazed, holding the scroll out once more.
"Why does Imperial Brother not accept this gift? Does it displease you?"
"Fifth Sister has gone to great effort." The Crown Prince forced a smile, the corners of his mouth twisting unnaturally. Word by word, he ground out through clenched teeth:
"Shu'er, what are you waiting for? Collect Fifth Sister's generous gift."
"...Yes."
The implication was clear: move, and quickly.
Shen Jingshu felt her heart skip. She tightened her grip on her silk handkerchief and stepped forward with a practiced smile.
"This was my oversight. I should not have let Her Highness..."
"Eh? This painting isn't for you. Why are you trying to take it?"
Before she could touch the scroll, Yun Chuhuan leapt forward, remembering the task Yun Shu had entrusted him with earlier. Seeing the moment was just right, he grabbed the scroll in one hand and clutched a gift box in the other.
Stumbling as he went, he hurried toward the Crown Prince.
"Imperial Brother! I brought a gift for you too!"
The sudden move shattered Shen Jingshu's plan. She froze for an instant, then quickly composed herself. No matter—if not now, then later.
Yet just as she reassured herself, Yun Chuhuan tripped beside her.
He flailed, arms thrown wide, and looked ready to fall straight into her.
Shen Jingshu instinctively stepped back.
But in doing so, she forgot one crucial detail—her gown today was longer than usual.
And its trailing hem had a life of its own...