Aerial Rain
Translating Web Novel

TYAF Ch 10 Part 2 – Apricot Blossom (II)

“What about you, Miss Yun?” Sui Tingheng asked Fuyi. “Were you like them when you were younger?”

“A bit, but not quite the same,” Fuyi replied, surprised that the prince had addressed her despite her silence. She appeared a little awkward. “This subject daughter would just join them for some mountain climbing and sightseeing.”

“Fuyi, do you remember when I was seven, we went to the back mountain to dig for ginseng but ended up falling into a pit?” Lin Xiaowu eagerly reminisced about their childhood. “You tried to pull me up but fell in too, and it wasn’t until nightfall that our families found us. Later, my father said that our crying could be heard five miles away, scaring the wild birds all over the mountain.”

Fuyi shot Lin Xiaowu a look, silently urging the girl to stop talking—how on earth did she think this was something worth boasting about?

Cao Sanlang chimed in as well, joining the fun. “And when you were twelve, you insisted you had the skill to shoot an arrow through a leaf from a hundred steps away, so you led us to the back mountain to hunt. In the end, not only did you fail to catch a single sparrow, but you also got us lost…”

“How is that my fault?” Fuyi gritted her teeth. “Weren’t you the one who claimed your family’s horse could always find its way, so following you would be fine?”

‘You should also stop talking—this isn’t something to brag about either!’

“It really could find its way, I just forgot that it had never been to the back mountain before. That’s on me, not the horse,” Cao Sanlang, being the child of a military family, had a deep fondness for the horses of his household.

“That’s true, your horse is impressive,” Fuyi did not refute this, but that did not mean she would not jab Cao Sanlang, “more impressive than you.”

Cao Sanlang looked proud, “Of course! My father always said that even the hitching stone outside our gate is more useful than me, so the horse must be more amazing than me.”

The literati grew more bewildered as they listened. What kind of sensible person would say such self-deprecating things in front of the future crown prince? Here was such a good opportunity to impress His Imperial Highness, yet instead of showcasing your skills, you are exposing each other’s shortcomings? What the heck?

Perhaps it was true that the prince was as gracious as the rumors suggested. Tolerating even such nonsensical talk showed his remarkable patience!

“So how did you all make it back home?” Sui Tingheng paused his step and turned to Fuyi.

Fuyi was surprised—unexpectedly, the Prince was genuinely listening to their stories. She looked up slightly, noticing a white flower petal falling on his shoulder. Perhaps to hear her better over the chatter, the Prince leaned in slightly, causing the petal to slide off his shoulder and land on the pouch at her waist.

“Later…. well, later we encountered a kind herb-gathering woman. She not only guided us down the mountain but also treated us to noodles she made herself,” Fuyi said as she brushed the petal off her pouch, letting it fall to the ground.

“The wind is picking up,” Sui Tingheng noted as he glanced down, listening to the sound of the wind blowing through the grove.

Fuyi looked up at the sky full of falling apricot blossoms. “Wow!”

Lin Xiaowu joined in. “Wow!”

At that moment, everyone—be they prodigal idlers or talented young literati—found themselves captivated by the breathtaking rain of the falling petals.

“Your Imperial Highness?” Fuyi noticed that Sui Tingheng’s gaze fell upon her from time to time.

Sui Tingheng extended his hand, causing Fuyi to lean back slightly. He opened his palm, revealing a few flower petals. Fuyi shrugged and smiled. “Thank you, Your Imperial Highness.”

A faint smile appeared on Sui Tingheng’s face as he clasped his hands behind his back. “It’s getting late; I should return to the palace.”

The attendants brought forward the golden palanquin. Sui Tingheng reached out to help Fuyi as she bowed in farewell, then turned and took his seat, leaving the grove behind.

After watching the imperial procession disappear into the distance, Fuyi’s group parted ways with the literati. “Benevolent but strict, gentle yet dignified—His Imperial Highness is such a flawless figure, he probably has never made a mistake in his life,” she muttered softly to Lin Xiaowu as they returned to the city.

“All the courtiers, both civil and military, hold His Imperial Highness in high regard,” Yang Erlang added. “Even my father, who usually pays no attention to politics, praises him for being so perfect.”

“But even our prince has made mistakes,” Lin Xiaowu recalled an incident that happened before the current emperor ascended the throne. “Three years ago, when my mother took me to visit the late emperor, we saw His Imperial Highness kneeling outside the imperial study, blood streaming from a wound on his forehead. It was a frightening sight—apparently, the late emperor had struck him with a paperweight in a fit of anger. When we left, he was still kneeling there.”

“The one who struck him was the late emperor, so it’s hard to say who was truly at fault,” Cao Sanlang snorted sarcastically.

The group fell silent. Though his words were disrespectful, they were not without reason. In his later years, the late emperor grew increasingly muddled-headed, favoring flatterers and distrusting loyal officials. There were countless instances of unfairness during that period, and whenever he felt bored or irritated, he would frequently take out his frustration on his eldest son, the current emperor.

Resentment and affection also came by association—being the son of His Majesty, His Imperial Highness was also greatly despised by the late emperor.

Fuyi gently stroked the imperial edict in her hand. The late emperor had exiled her entire family, while the current emperor not only reinstated her father but also bestowed upon her the title of a Junjun. So, when she learned that the prince had once been punished by the late emperor, it was clear to her who was at fault—it was certainly the late emperor.

“Wangye, there’s been an incident,” an attendant rushed into the study, his tone urgent. “Lu Tanhua was taken away by the Jinwu Guards at the apricot grove on the outskirts of the capital.”

“How did he get taken away?” Ning Wang put down his book. “He’s the newly appointed Tanhua. How would the Jinwu Guards dare to act against him? Are they not afraid of offending the scholar community?”

“It was on the orders from the Prince.”

“This Wang’s1 good nephew usually spends his days in the palace playing the filial son or studying at the Institute of Literature. Why would he suddenly visit a place like the apricot grove?” Ning Wang frowned. “And that surname Lu—where did he get the gall to offend an imperial prince?”

The attendant hesitated, not daring to continue.

“What else is there? Speak.”

“Lu Tanhua was participating in a poetry gathering today, and he somehow chased away all the commoners from the apricot grove, but… but then…” the attendant stammered.

“But what?”

“But Miss Yun found it out, and the Prince happened to arrive at the grove to deliver an imperial edict to her, so the situation escalated.”

“What imperial edict?”

“To confer Miss Yun with the title of Junjun.”

“Junjun…” Ning Wang stood up and glanced at the painting on the wall. It depicted an apricot tree in full bloom, with a rain of petals covering a pipa beneath it.

“Your Imperial Highness, could it be that Miss Yun already knew Lu Tanhua was our man, and she deliberately disrupted our plans?”

After this incident, Shun Wang would definitely refuse to allow Lu Tanhua to marry his daughter.

Ning Wang gently stroked the pipa in the painting. After a long pause, he said, “This Wang understands. You may leave.”

“But, Wangye!”

“When an imperial edict was announced, the receiver should set up an altar, lit incense, and kneel to receive it. For Sui Tingheng, as a prince, to disregard this custom is a serious offense,” Ning Wang said coldly. “You needn’t say more; by tomorrow, there will be someone to impeach him.”

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Author’s Note:
Late Emperor vs. His Imperial Highness the Prince

Onlookers: “No need to say more; it must have been the late emperor’s fault!”


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  1. Benwang (本王) literally translates as ‘This Wang’ or ‘This Prince’ is how a Qinwang address himself in front of someone with equal or lower status than him.

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