Chapter 18: Wasting Heaven’s Bounty

The princess consort watched the scene, unable to suppress the smile curving at the corner of her lips. “How rare is this? Even our Second Young Master has a day when someone has the upper hand over him?”

“What's the use of coming again? He’s closing his eyes and fiddling with the abacus, acting so casual—how could he possibly keep the accounts straight?”

The Prince of the North grew increasingly irritated as he watched.

He was more and more convinced that Shen Ruojin, as the new bride, was too embarrassed to really discipline Qin Lang and was thus indulging and tolerating him.

The princess consort shot him a glance. “When Second Young Master was studying at the Imperial Academy, he excelled in all the Six Arts of the Gentleman, ranking first in every one. How could he not be able to account properly?”

“First in everything? Him?”

The Prince of the North had spent most of his time stationed in the northern territories and had not lived much with Qin Lang. He barely remembered how the rebellious son had performed in his studies as a child, only knowing that in recent years, the young prince of the Northern Prince’s Mansion had become notorious for his wild and unrestrained behavior.

The Six Arts—rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics—are the foundation of a true gentleman’s education. The Prince, viewing Qin Lang as a disobedient scoundrel with none of the gentleman’s demeanor, naturally did not believe he was skilled in any of these.

“Yes, him,” the princess consort said, anger thick in her voice.

As the Prince of the North scowled and headed toward the accounting room, she stood firm, gritting her teeth. “If four years ago, Second Young Master had not personally gone to the northern territories to deliver supplies and winter clothing for you—and nearly died there—how would he have come to be like this today? He was a prodigy, but ever since he returned from the north, his temperament changed drastically. Others do not know the reason, but do you not? As his father, do you not feel even a shred of pain or guilt?”

Four years ago, Qin Lang was seventeen.

At that time, he was the most outstanding young man in the imperial capital—unmatched in talent and beauty, famed throughout the city.

That winter was harsh; heavy snow blocked the mountain passes, and the northern front was engaged in fierce battles, suffering shortages of clothing and food. The imperial court could not replenish its military supplies, so the Lin family helped gather a batch of grain and winter gear. To avoid any mishaps en route, Qin Lang personally led the convoy.

The princess consort had been reluctant to let him go, but Qin Lang had said, “When the nation is in peril, how can we shrink back?”

As a mother, she did not ask for him to achieve great feats—only for his safe return.

She thought that with the prince at the front, and given that Second Young Master and the prince rarely met and were quite estranged, this would be a chance to mend their father-son relationship, so she let him go.

But after Qin Lang left, months passed with no news. When word finally arrived, it was that he had nearly lost his life in the north and was saved only thanks to someone’s intervention.

That year, the northern front saw many victories. Qin Lang had gone with burning passion but returned gravely wounded.

The princess consort asked repeatedly what had happened, but he remained silent about the events there, only losing all respect and admiration for the Prince of the North.

Since then, his nature changed completely—he stopped attending the imperial academy, quit martial training, and became a prodigal playboy, spending his days in drunken revelry.

The Prince of the North grew ever more displeased with his second son. When he returned to the capital, he reported the first merit in his eldest son Qin Qi’s name and requested his elevation to heir apparent.

The emperor agreed, then smilingly asked at a palace banquet, “Where is the young prince of the Northern Prince’s Mansion?”

Everyone was puzzled—Qin Qi, the heir apparent, was present, so who else could the emperor mean?

Only the eunuch Zhou Jixiang of the imperial household smiled and conveyed the emperor’s intent, “Qin Lang, the young prince, isn’t here?”

From that day on, everyone in the capital knew that although Qin Qi was the heir, the emperor favored Qin Lang more. If the Prince of the North ever went north again, no one could say whose position the heir would ultimately be.

Thus, the seeds of discord between the Qin brothers were sown.

Being a stepmother was difficult; being the mistress of the mansion was even harder.

The princess consort usually avoided discussing the matter of Second Young Master and Qin Qi, but today, her temper flared and she couldn’t help but bring up the past with the Prince of the North.

The Prince’s face darkened as he recalled the past. “That was because Qin Lang was reckless. He was young and had many chances to achieve merit—why must he quarrel over this moment?”

“In the prince’s eyes, the heir is flawless. Second Young Master is always no good this way or that way. You’ve returned to the capital only once in these four years, and each time you’ve punished him. Isn’t that enough? Now that he’s finally married a fine wife and seems to be returning to the right path, why must you stir up trouble?”

The princess consort came from a merchant family and was eloquent. Normally she maintained the dignified demeanor of a virtuous consort, but when it came to her son, her temper flared.

The Prince of the North could not argue with her and did not want to.

He paused, then listed off the incidents one by one:

“Just the other day, Second Young Master fought with the prime minister’s son; on his wedding day, he abandoned his bride to rescue some actor; today, he has taken a gambling den’s bond and probably invited trouble. With such conduct, how can you say he’s returning to the right path?”

“What gambling den bond?” the princess consort asked.

She thought Second Young Master’s behavior was indeed outrageous, but she had yet to get the full story—how could she judge him outright?

“Your Highness,” He Chengjian hurried forward to explain, “It’s a bond from the Four Seas Gambling Den. The Second Madam went to see Second Young Master today and happened to win this bond from the den. She won it from Old Liu Qi; the heir apparent was also present. Second Young Master entrusted the heir to collect the debt.”

Having finally finished speaking, He Chengjian knelt silently in the back for a long time, barely daring to breathe.

“What is going on here?” The Prince of the North’s head ached.

Wasn’t this gambling den affair supposed to be Second Young Master’s doing?

And what was this about the eldest son and Shen Ruojin?

“It was Ruojin who won it? A fine daughter-in-law, quite capable,” the princess consort said, folding her hands gently and looking at the Prince with a glance that said, “See? Why are you angry?”

The Prince of the North felt a little awkward, his expression less grim, revealing some discomfort.

He said nothing.

The princess consort deliberately pressed, “Prince, why aren’t you going?”

When it came to punishing Second Young Master, he was so resolute; but upon hearing it was the gambling den bond won by his daughter-in-law, he immediately fell silent.

Old men, always favoring their sons, experts in playing favorites.

“Do not disturb the newlyweds,” the Prince of the North said with a stern face as he returned to the princess consort. “It’s late. Let us rest.”

The princess consort spared him some dignity, and they left.

The crowd before the gate quietly dispersed. A gentle night breeze swept through the courtyard as if nothing had just happened.

Qin Lang finished tallying all the accounts laid out on the desk. Before Shen Ruojin opened another box, he rose and pressed her hand.

“Do you really want me to sit here counting the abacus all night?”

Shen Ruojin handed him another stack of account books with her other hand.

“Otherwise? You said you could play however you wanted. Are you going to back out?”

Who said spending the night together meant only those matters on the bed?

Is money not tempting?

Is there anything more delightful under heaven than counting silver coins?

“Anything is fine.”

Qin Lang turned and placed the account books on the desk.

“But Shen Ruojin…” He was rarely so helpless in his life and couldn’t help but smile. “There are so many things we could do all night, and you want me to stay in the accounting room counting money with you. You really are wasting a treasure.”

“I’m hearing ‘wasting a treasure’ used to describe myself for the first time.”

Shen Ruojin looked at him under the lamp.

But with Qin Lang’s looks and bearing, it was fitting.

She smiled and asked, “Are you tired?”

Since returning to the mansion after noon, they had been in the accounting room for four or five hours, having lunch and dinner there as well, clearing several boxes of accounts.

Qin Lang was fast and accurate—one man could do the work of ten. If he kept going, even the mansion’s accountants would worry about losing their jobs.

“Tired,” Qin Lang said, walking around the desk and stretching lazily before leaning against Shen Ruojin.

“The night is deep. Madam, would you please change the place where you play with me?”