Chapter 5: Rewards

After everyone had departed, Zhao Bin walked around the Prince’s residence. It was a four-courtyard compound: the center served as the main hall, flanked on both sides by several administrative rooms, while the rear two courtyards formed the inner residence, consisting of over twenty rooms.

The front courtyard featured six wing rooms on either side. The surrounding walls were noticeably thicker and taller than those of the neighboring homes, with arrow towers at each of the four corners, and the top of the walls were wide enough for guards to patrol.

Xiao Chu was leading a squad of guards on an inspection; clearly, as this residence had once served as a temporary palace for the Emperor during his imperial expedition, it possessed a certain level of defensive capability. This was a stroke of good fortune for Zhao Bin; although he was now far from the capital, one could never be certain that there weren't those harboring ulterior motives or plotting harm.

A moment later, Xiao Chu descended from the wall and approached Zhao Bin, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness, I have inspected the perimeter. The residence is flanked by civilian homes, making it difficult to set up a camp..."

Before Xiao Chu could finish, Zhao Bin interrupted, "No matter. Clear out the wing rooms on both sides for the men to stay in for now; the others can pitch tents in the courtyard."

"Yes."

"Also, have the kitchen staff draw more funds from Xing'er. Send a few men with them to the market to purchase plenty of meat—anything edible will do. Tell the men to buy generously. We have been traveling for some time and everyone is weary; let's treat everyone to a good meal tonight."

Xiao Chu was visibly moved by these words, though he hesitated slightly. "Your Highness, there is no need for such gestures. Protecting you is the duty of the Royal Guard."

Zhao Bin smiled at Xiao Chu. "It is not as if we feast on meat every day. Everyone is simply exhausted from the journey, so let us improve our fare. Do as I say. Oh, and besides the meat, buy plenty of wine as well."

"Your Highness, the Royal Guard is forbidden from drinking while on duty," Xiao Chu said sternly.

"Just send someone to buy it."

"Yes, as you command."

Before long, several cooks and a dozen guards followed a young maid out of the residence gates. An hour later, people began arriving at the residence—some driving geese and ducks, others leading sheep, pushing carts of wine, or carrying baskets of vegetables.

That evening, the residence was ablaze with bonfires. Large pots were hung, and roasting racks were set up. Over a dozen temporary wooden tables were arranged in the center of the courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of revelry and the rich aroma of meat.

Before long, word spread throughout Yan City. While the common folk were eating chaff and vegetables, the Prince’s residence was filled with the scent of wine and meat. The people of Yan City wore sorrowful expressions, worried that with such a Prince in their midst, their days to come would be even harder.

The same news reached the Crown Prince’s mansion in the capital a month later. The Crown Prince glanced at the report from Yan and chuckled. "My third brother is quite interesting. He’s only just arrived at his fief and is already acting so recklessly. I never realized he had it in him."

Zhang Ju, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, remarked, "Previously, with His Majesty in the capital, the princes dared not overstep. Now that he is away from the capital, it has worked to his advantage. However, it is for the best. Once he left the capital, he lost his chance at the throne. The more trouble he stirs up, the better it is for us. The more grievances he creates, the easier it will be to fabricate charges before His Majesty later and have him rightfully removed."

The Crown Prince wore a sinister smile. "Very well, let him be. As my uncle said, let him create more trouble."

Back in Yan City, Zhao Bin had consumed quite a bit of wine that evening. Although the alcohol content of ancient wine was low, it did not take long for it to accumulate, and he had become quite intoxicated. He did not wake until nearly noon the next day, despite Ling'er having come to the room three times already.

Seeing him still in a deep sleep, she had not dared to make a sound, retreating each time. This was her fourth visit, and she arrived just as Zhao Bin was waking up.

Ling'er placed the washbasin on the stand and walked quietly to the bed, bowing. "Your Highness, you are awake. Shall I assist you with your robes?"

Zhao Bin stretched and sat up. "No need. I can dress myself. From now on, you don't need to help me dress."

Ling'er, who had been standing quietly to the side, suddenly looked terrified. She hurriedly knelt on the ground. "This servant deserves to die! This servant deserves to die!"

Zhao Bin was stunned. He hadn't said anything of the sort. He quickly reached out to pull her up. "What are you doing? Get up! Who said you deserved to die?"

Ling'er remained on her knees, not daring to move. "Your Highness, I must have done something wrong, or perhaps I served you poorly. I beg for your punishment."

"I didn't say you served me poorly, nor am I punishing you. Get up and speak."

"Why does Your Highness no longer wish for me to assist you?" Ling'er asked, trembling.

"I am simply accustomed to dressing myself..."

"But I have always dressed you before. I must have done something wrong to anger Your Highness. I deserve to die," Ling'er said, her head bowed and voice timid.

Only then did Zhao Bin realize. In his previous life, he had been used to dressing himself, but in the memories of the original host, Ling'er had been dressing him ever since his mother, the Imperial Consort, had assigned her to his side.

In fact, it wasn't that the ancients disliked dressing themselves; it was just that the higher one's status, the more elaborate the clothing, a consequence of the strict rituals of the time. The Emperor required several people just to assist with his attire, as there were specific requirements for every occasion. Any mistake could cost someone their head. He now understood why Ling'er had reacted so strongly.

Zhao Bin looked at the aggrieved Ling'er and said, "Alright, alright. Ling'er can continue to dress me in the future. Come, let's get dressed."

"Yes."

As Ling'er dressed him, the closeness allowed a faint, delicate fragrance to drift toward him, which refreshed his senses. Zhao Bin looked down at Ling'er, who was a head shorter than him, and asked softly, "Ling'er, how old are you?"

"Replying to Your Highness, this servant is eighteen this year," Ling'er replied timidly while fastening his buttons.

"Oh! A grown woman, then. It's time to find a husband."

Upon hearing this, Ling'er fell to her knees with a thud. "Your Highness, I have never had such thoughts! I beg you, please don't send me away!"

Zhao Bin was speechless. He had only been joking, but he hadn't expected to scare her again. Coupled with the earlier incident, she must have thought he was trying to cast her out.

Zhao Bin quickly pulled her up. "Look at you, I was just teasing. Why are you so nervous?"

He looked at her sweet, oval face and gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. "Alright, stop crying. Let's finish getting dressed."

When Ling'er followed Zhao Bin out of the room, Wang Wu was standing outside. Seeing Zhao Bin emerge, he bowed. "Good morning, Your Highness."

"Good morning, my foot. It's nearly noon," Zhao Bin replied, sounding annoyed.

"It's not that I didn't want to greet you earlier, Your Highness; I only just woke up myself," Wang Wu said with a feigned expression of helplessness.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Go tell the kitchen to bring some food."

"As you wish, Your Highness." Wang Wu scurried off.

Wang Wu was a soldier who had been on the battlefield and bled for his country. He was not like Ling'er or Chunxi, who had spent their lives in the rigid hierarchy of the Imperial Palace. While he was not without respect for imperial authority, he was a man who had faced death, and he was not as constrained as the others. This made him much easier for Zhao Bin to get along with.

Soon, Wang Wu returned with a tray holding a bowl of millet porridge and two plates of unrecognizable vegetables. Zhao Bin, having lived a modern life, realized that many vegetables he knew were not yet present in this era.

As he sipped his porridge, he looked at Wang Wu. "Old Wu, go get another bowl of porridge and sit with me."

"I've already eaten, Your Highness," Wang Wu replied.

Zhao Bin asked curiously, "Didn't you just say you hadn't?"

"I just grabbed a bite in the kitchen while waiting for them to prepare your meal."

"What did you eat?"

"A lamb leg."

"A lamb..." Zhao Bin stared at him in disbelief. The Prince was eating porridge, while his servant was eating a leg of lamb. However, he didn't truly mind. He had eaten plenty of meat the night before and felt a bit nauseated, so he wouldn't have had the appetite for a lamb leg even if it were offered.