The Princess’ Shadow Guard – Chapter 43
by Little PandaFigure Out This Palace’s Identity
As she stepped out, Murong Yan saw a boy of about seven arrogantly ordering a group of servants to beat and kick the little tiger cub huddled on the ground.
“Beat it to death! Beat it to death! How dare it roar at this young master — little beast! Beat it to death!”
The tiger cub, not yet weaned, dodged the kicks aimed at it, its steps unsteady.
“All of you, stop at once — this palace1 commands it!”
Murong Yan snapped at the group, her voice sharp as a blade.
The filthy little cub caught sight of a familiar face, its large eyes glistening with moisture. As if it had finally found its backbone, it bounded toward Murong Yan at once, tumbling clumsily once along the way.
Murong Yan knelt down and gathered the wretched cub into her arms without a trace of distaste, her eyes filled with tender affection.
The cub piteously mewled, its small soft paws clutching the woman’s shoulder as it tried to burrow into the crook of her neck. Murong Yan lowered her head and pressed a gentle kiss to its brow to soothe it.
The boy stared at this unfamiliar woman who had appeared in the mansion out of nowhere, her hair half-white like an old crone’s. Spoiled rotten as the sole grandchild of the household, he immediately flew into a rage. “Who are you? How dare you tell me to stop! Why should this young master listen to you!”
Only after the cub in her arms had calmed did she slowly raise her eyes to the insolent child before her. “In this mansion, even a Prince must heed this palace’s word. What? Is this palace not permitted to discipline you?”
The hot-tempered boy hadn’t expected the woman to talk back. He bellowed, “This young master is the eldest grandson of this mansion! You white-haired demoness, scram before this young master!”
Several old servants’ eyes went wide with shock, seemingly recognizing who the woman before them was. Their faces full of alarm, they moved to restrain the insolent boy — but the mansion’s Heir Apparent, Murong Can, also emerged from the room at that very moment.
“Fu’er! Show some respect!”
Murong Can, fiercely protective, had veins bulging at his neck as he thundered at his arrogant nephew. “Where have all your manners and decorum gone? This is your own paternal aunt — Commandery Princess Chongwen, personally appointed by the Late Emperor. You will not disrespect her!”
He stepped forward, shielding his sister.
“Little Uncle…” Young Murong Fu was already aware of the subtle difference in status between Murong Can and his father. Seeing his usually amiable Little Uncle raise his voice at him for once, the boy’s lips wobbled and he burst into loud wails.
The commotion and crying on the corridor drew Murong Wen and his biological mother, Concubine Liu.
Seeing his father and grandmother, Murong Fu ran to them as if he’d found his sanctuary, then loosened his throat and wailed even louder.
“What is going on here?” Concubine Liu saw her precious darling grandson so aggrieved and hurriedly gathered Murong Fu into her arms, wiping the tears streaming down his cheeks.
“That woman and Little Uncle are bullying me…” Murong Fu kept his head low in Concubine Liu’s embrace, as though he had suffered the greatest injustice imaginable.
Seeing his precious son’s nose red from crying, Murong Wen looked at the two standing before him and put on an older brother’s bearing with evident displeasure. “Fu’er is still young. If he has in any way offended you two, you should be the ones to show some grace. Don’t bicker with a mere child.”
Murong Can was baffled by these words. Seeing Murong Wen pin the blame on his beloved sister, he opened his mouth with evident displeasure to reply — but Murong Yan spoke first.
“Ah Wen-xiong2 always fancies himself a man of letters.” Murong Yan’s expression hovered between a smile and a sneer, yet her tone was utterly glacial. “And yet the moment you arrive, you assign blame to this palace and to Xiongzhang3 without so much as distinguishing right from wrong. From which sage and which classic did Ah Wen-xiong learn that?”
Murong Wen choked on the words, his face flushing an unnatural red.
He then stiffly crouched down and asked the boy, “What happened to make Fu’er feel he was bullied… wronged?”
“I wanted that little beast, but it wouldn’t let me hold it and even tried to scratch me.” Murong Fu’s pretense of crying had already dried up. Instead, he pointed self-righteously at the cub in Murong Yan’s arms and declared with full vigor, “I wanted to beat it to death, but Little Uncle yelled at me.”
Murong Yan gave Murong Wen no chance to make excuses for his son. She spoke directly: “This tiger cub was playing peacefully in the mansion. It is not your pet. By what right did you try to grab it? And by what right did you try to punish it?”
The woman stared at the boy, her face cold.
“Everything in this mansion belongs to this young master! Whatever this young master wants to do, whatever this young master wants, is this young master’s to take — why would this young master need justification?!” Murong Fu squirmed out of Concubine Liu’s embrace and swung his fists at the air in defiant protest. “Father, isn’t that right?”
The boy tugged at his father’s sleeve, hoping for the usual support.
But this time, the father who had always doted on the boy said nothing.
Or rather — he didn’t dare answer.
“So a mere child — with no merits to your name and no standing whatsoever — believes this entire princely mansion is yours.”
A sneer curling her lips, Murong Yan swept her gaze past the pale-faced Murong Wen and Concubine Liu — couldn’t even be bothered to spare them a second glance — and remarked with cutting irony, “Surely these ‘principles’ weren’t all taught by you, Ah Wen-xiong?”
With that, all trace of humor vanished from the woman’s face. She merely stared at the man before her, who swallowed hard.
Looking at her concubine-born half-brother before her — as cowardly as their father, yet possessing neither literary nor martial skill, forever posturing as a man of lofty integrity — Murong Yan seemed unwilling to waste another word. She simply looked down at the noisy boy and said, “Your father cannot discipline this palace. Your grandfather the Prince cannot, either. Once you’ve figured out this palace’s identity, then scram.”
Cradling the cub, Murong Yan turned and returned to her room, ignoring everyone else. Murong Can snapped out of his daze and hurriedly followed his sister.
“Yue’er, Yue’er, don’t be angry.” Looking at Murong Yan sitting on the edge of the bed, her face expressionless, Murong Can was somewhat anxious.
“I simply hadn’t expected…”
Murong Yan stroked the fur of the cub beside her, not bothering to look up. “This grand Prince of Yu’s mansion has not only raised a pedantic scholar — it seems it has also produced an arrogant, tyrannical young lout.”
Murong Can scratched his head, hearing the obvious mockery in her words. “Ah Wen-xiong has never cared for matters of war. A man who can’t even grip a sword properly has no business on the battlefield — let him be a scholar. The mansion can afford to support him. As for Fu’er…” His tone went dry. “Perhaps because he’s the youngest in the household, he’s been a bit spoiled.”
“‘Learning without reflection leads to confusion4.’ A man who spends his days reciting musty, pedantic texts, utterly incapable of adapting, yet dares to call himself a scholar? No wonder he raised such a crooked lower beam5.” Murong Yan scoffed, then lifted her gaze. “It’s precisely because there is no legitimate grandson6 in this household, and Royal Father’s temperament is so easy to manipulate, that they dare behave this brazenly.”
Setting the cub down, Murong Yan looked at the brother whose features were seven or eight parts similar to her own and suddenly asked, “Xiongzhang, when are you going to take a wife?”
Caught off guard, the man scratched his chin and said with genuine sincerity, “…The Northern Borders are not like the Capital. Besides, I lead troops against the barbarians day and night — you know how perilous it is. I could lose my life at any moment. Why would I marry a woman only to have her suffer alongside me?”
Indeed.
The Northern Borders were bitter and cold. How could a delicate young woman, raised in warm sunshine and gentle soil, endure such a place?
To marry a military man was to live in constant dread. If the barbarians breached the pass in winter, a husband might not come home for three months on end — nothing but night after night of weeping.
And even if she cast aside all caution and chose to be with him, who could guarantee she would receive his undivided devotion?
The title of Princess of Yu — what did it offer but suffering?
The dragon-phoenix twins7 seemed to think of their mother at the same time, and fell into a knowing silence.
Footnotes
- A self-referential used by high-ranking women in the imperial household, who personify their residence when speaking of themselves.
- A formal kinship suffix meaning 'older brother,' attached to a name or nickname. More formal in register than the familiar '-ge.'
- A formal, respectful standalone term for 'older brother,' used in earnest or solemn address rather than as a name suffix.
- A quote from the Analects of Confucius (Lunyu 2.15), warning that learning without critical reflection leads only to confusion and bewilderment.
- From the Chinese saying 'when the upper beam is crooked, the lower beams will be too' — meaning poor parenting produces flawed children.
- In traditional Chinese patriarchal households, a grandson born to the principal wife held superior inheritance and status rights over grandsons of concubines.
- A Chinese term for boy-girl fraternal twins, the dragon symbolizing the son and the phoenix the daughter, considered highly auspicious.
She has more patience than me, and that’s kinda surprising. My reaction would have been along the lines of “Since this little shit wanted to beat MY tiger to death on top of disrespecting me, and I’m too good-natured to hurt a child, adopt him off to a peasant family. In a year or two, when he’s learned some semblance of humility, he can come back.” That little shit isn’t going to learn how to be a human until he loses all of his so-called status and sees what it’s like to be on the recieving end of the feudal stick.
Qin qin where are youuu 😭😭😭
Qin qin where are youuu 😭😭😭
Thank you!
Thank you!
Thank you for the chapter! Enjoy with your family translator!
Noooo!!! Yo quería más mañana! Esto es lo único que me anima al final del día 😭😭 y este cap fue muy corto!!
Thank you for the chapter! Enjoy with your family translator!
Noooo!!! Yo quería más mañana! Esto es lo único que me anima al final del día 😭😭 y este cap fue muy corto!!