Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 78

Qian Tong had returned last night fully prepared, waiting for Prince Song to confront her. She had expected him to question her about what had happened—whether she had killed the Princess Consort, or whether the person who attacked Prince Pingchang was one of her people.

But Prince Song didn’t ask a single thing about last night.

Instead, he proposed marriage.

Qian Tong truly couldn’t fathom what was going on in his mind. Just because of a promise back then, a single kiss, and a few sparks of affection, he would throw caution to the wind and insist on binding her to him?

Prince Song was utterly single-minded.

For him to leave all matters aside tonight and sit at her bedside, pressing her to marry, Qian Tong knew that in his heart, this was the most important thing—though she didn’t know why. She knew she couldn’t refuse. Carefully, she said, “Yunzhi, you’re such a good man. Which young lady wouldn’t want to marry you…”

Prince Song interrupted, “Then marry me.”

“Marry! I will marry.” Qian Tong smiled, lightly grabbing his wrist. “But look, we still have many issues to resolve. The Piao family and the Pingchang estate will soon turn against each other. As they clash, the court will benefit. You will succeed in opening the canal. Soon after, you will reclaim the two Huainan salt fields from Prince Pingchang, and all the Huainan and Huaiyang salt fields will fall under the court. The court can establish its own salt authority there, transporting Yangzhou sea salt across Dayu, and the massive salt taxes will help the court recover after the war. Dayu will prosper, and the people will live better lives…”

Qian Tong looked at him cautiously. “I will marry you, but… not now.”

“Put on your clothes.”

Qian Tong froze. “Huh?”

“Wang Zhao, come in and arrest her.” Prince Song rose slowly. “You hired underworld men, disguised them as intruders, broke into the Piao estate last night, and tried to assassinate Prince Pingchang and the Princess Consort. These crimes, we’ll discuss at the magistrate’s prison.”

Qian Tong was stunned.

At this moment, Prince Song’s expression had hardened completely. He glanced at those outside and said, “Wang Zhao, take her!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Wait!”

Qian Tong hadn’t expected him to actually act. She quickly wrapped herself in a quilt and shouted to Wang Zhao, who had already entered with force, “Don’t come in! I’m not dressed—if you enter, you’re dead!”

Sure enough, Wang Zhao paused.

“Song Yunzhi! How could you be like this?” Qian Tong hurried to find her clothing, scolding as she searched, “Back on that deserted island, you tied my hands and proposed with a sword at my throat. Now you use your authority to coerce me into marrying you? Am I really that irresistible that you, Prince Song, can’t let go? What young lady would marry such an insensitive man?”

She intentionally spoke loudly so that the soldiers outside could hear.

The proud and commanding Prince Song, once provoked, allowed himself to pause, putting aside his immediate desire to marry her.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly. “Tell me how to propose, and I will do it.”

Qian Tong was silent.

He had been awake all night and arrived at dawn; his eyes were bloodshot. “If there’s more to say, say it all now.”

She had nothing left to say—but she could not marry him.

Qian Tong decided not to haggle. She draped a thin cloak over herself and walked to him, looking up seriously. “Song Yunzhi, my feelings for you are not as deep as you imagine.”

She studied his eyes and laid her cards on the table. “I like you, but not enough to marry you no matter what. Understand?”

He didn’t speak, though his hand at his side tightened slightly.

“I know you mean well. You don’t want my hands to stain blood again, but I cannot do it… I am a merchant. I cannot live the clean, righteous life you desire.” Her voice was soft, but she met his gaze and spoke plainly.

He could not hope to change her.

Even marriage would not alter her.

“Perhaps someone like me, a simple country girl, is unusual to you, Prince, and has caught your interest. You want to do something for me, make a promise—but that is only a fleeting fancy. Life is long, and our stations, our thoughts, and our choices differ. How can you guarantee that in the future, you will not regret this impulse?”

She spoke her truth, no longer deceiving him. “We can be confidants, we can be lovers, but we are not suited to be husband and wife.”

Had she known earlier what kind of man he truly was—so serious about duty and marriage—she would never have tempted him.

She had often regretted it. Every kindness from Prince Song, every favor, only deepened her remorse.

By clarifying it tonight, she also severed the tender sprout of affection that had just begun to grow.

Even a young shoot, forcibly cut, hurts.

And so did she.

Finishing her words, she turned her head, unable to meet his eyes. Outside, all was silent. If not for the shadows cast on the screen, it would seem they had vanished.

Prince Song did not leave. He stood steadily.

After a long moment, he softly laughed. “Qian Tong, you really are a businesswoman.”

“You want to exploit me, want me at your mercy without giving anything in return—where in the world does such a thing exist?” As she looked up, he turned his face outward, voice low and hoarse. “I have no interest in being your confidant, no time to be your lover. Whether it is the poison of you, Qian Tong, or my insistence that I marry you, call it what you will—but if you want to avoid prison and protect your family from involvement, there is only one way: marry me.”

He spoke, then left without another word, giving no glance back, instructing Wang Zhao outside, “Give her one incense stick. If she refuses, take her.”

Qian Tong was speechless. She had never met such a stubborn mule.

When Wang Zhao entered, Qian Tong was sitting on the ground, hugging her knees in a daze.

He sent the others to wait outside and walked in alone. Before tonight, Wang Zhao could not understand why Prince Song had chosen a merchant’s daughter. With his status, talents, and station, countless young women would have sought him. Why waste such effort on a merchant girl, repeatedly humiliated?

Especially tonight—her hair tie had fallen into the Prince’s hands. That alone was sufficient evidence to imprison her.

Yet the Prince had still given her a chance.

He had already sent Prince Pingchang and the Princess Consort’s bodies to the magistrate’s office. Madam Piao was in custody, and Piao’s eldest and third sons were questioned. Only she remained free.

On the way, Prince Song explained to Wang Zhao, “She is not wicked.”

He spoke of the widows she had sheltered, the destitute in the Cui household, and the hope she offered to dying villagers.

She gave flowers to the people and asked Prince Song, “Who is happier—the giver or the receiver?”

Prince Song asked Wang Zhao, “Given this, would you call her a bad person?”

Wang Zhao had no answer. Qian Tong’s deeds were complicated—she helped countless commoners but often deceived authorities and the three major families. She even sheltered bandits.

He recognized the Prince’s judgment was what mattered; he needed no say in the matter.

“I trust your judgment, Your Highness,” Wang Zhao said.

Yet Prince Song confided his personal feelings. “I’ve never liked anyone before. I don’t know how. She is different, her upbringing and nature distinct, so our ways differ. Even so, to decide a relationship before understanding each other fully would be too hasty. On the deserted island, I promised her an engagement and held a betrothal feast. I cannot abandon that promise lightly. Tonight, I ask for leniency for her. If in the future she truly commits a grave mistake, I will not protect her, and she will face punishment alongside me.”

Qian Tong, the daughter of the Qian family, was clever—but Prince Song was also a formidable figure in the capital, not one to be easily deceived.

He had known all along that the Princess Consort of Pingchang had been killed by Qian Tong.

He could not bring himself to have her arrested, yet he could not ignore the crime, for that would be to violate the law. So he used himself as a guarantee, seeking her a chance to make amends.

Wang Zhao, now married with children, understood the feeling of liking someone. He thought that Prince Song’s actions were not just about his feelings for Qian Tong—they were also a belief that she had secret reasons that could not be spoken aloud.

By putting himself forward as a guarantee, he was giving her a chance to prove herself.

Wang Zhao had heard all that Qian Tong had just said to Prince Song. He thought that only someone like Prince Song could bear such a thing.

At this moment, Wang Zhao did not urge Qian Tong to respond quickly, nor did he try to persuade her. Instead, he asked, “Qian Tong, how can you be so certain that someone’s love will not surpass all else?”

Qian Tong, still weighing the pros and cons of this engagement, looked up, puzzled, unsure what he meant.

Wang Zhao explained, “Do not reject an answer just because you think you cannot give in return.”

He continued, “The things you’ve done—any court official in their position would never have shown you mercy. You’re smart, so you know this. Yet you still dared to toy with him repeatedly, precisely because you knew it was him, and you were certain he would not punish you. Just as you thought, Prince Song indeed could not bear to punish you.”

Wang Zhao added, “But given his position, not punishing you cannot be justified to the outside world or even to himself. The only solution he could come up with was to bind you to him. From now on, everything you do will be tied to him, life and death intertwined, honor and disgrace shared. In the future, any punishment you face, he will share it with you.”

As he finished, Qian Tong stared at him in a daze.

For a long moment, her eyes slowly went blank, a mist of tears forming. She asked, “Why does he trust me so completely?”

Wang Zhao countered gently, “Then why can’t you trust him for once?”

Prince Song did not wait for her answer. Leaving the Qian residence, he returned first to the magistrate’s office.

Prince Pingchang, having suffered a great shock and lost his Princess Consort, had gone mad while leaving the Piao estate. “Let go of me! I will kill the Piao family! They hired assassins! I will wipe out the Piao family!”

Prince Song had his men hold him down and forcibly brought him to the magistrate’s office. He then ordered a messenger to Jiangning: “Notify the Pingchang estate—come prepare the coffin.”

Hearing the word “coffin,” Prince Pingchang regained his senses and rushed to the carriage to see his deceased Princess Consort.

The Princess Consort had already passed, lying under a white cloth in the carriage.

The Piao family’s trap, which had been planned when the Pingchang couple left Jiangning, had aimed for Prince Song. They had never imagined that the first casualty would be the Princess Consort.

If Prince Song hadn’t arrived in time, Pingchang realized he himself likely would have died.

The immense upheaval left him stunned, stripped of all princely dignity. He crawled over, gently lifting a corner of the white cloth. Seeing the terrified face of his Princess Consort, he gasped in horror, dropping the cloth and leaning back against the carriage wall. Only after several deep breaths did he calm slightly.

After regaining some composure, only hatred and fear remained in his heart.

At first, he couldn’t believe the Piao family had the audacity to attempt his assassination.

Yet the Princess Consort had died at Madam Piao’s hands. Everyone had seen it—a merchant woman had dared to kill his Princess Consort. What of the worthless Piao second son? His own life was expendable, and now they wanted his Princess Consort to pay?

Madam Piao had gone mad from the grief of losing a son, dragging the Piao family’s relations with the Pingchang estate into ruin.

Did Piao Huailang know?

Who was that masked youth—Madam Piao’s agent, or sent by Piao Huailang to threaten him?

All of his achievements had rested on his defense of the city five years ago. If that secret were exposed, everyone at the Pingchang estate would be doomed. Whether threatened by Madam Piao or the Piao family head, the Piao family could not be spared.

He would not relinquish Yangzhou, and the Piao family would get nothing.

He would use the court to destroy the Piao family, letting this secret sink into the abyss forever.

Once at the Pingchang estate, Prince Pingchang regained full composure and sought out Prince Song.

He asked three times, finally learning at dawn that Prince Song had returned. In haste, he arrived, demanding to interrogate Madam Piao together. “This is my fault. I misjudged the Piao family, trusted Piao Huailang, and sought ties with them. That led to today’s tragedy—my Princess Consort’s death and nearly putting you in danger. I cannot escape responsibility. This matter must be investigated, for the Princess Consort, and for you…”

He spoke sincerely, yet Prince Song did not allow him to see Madam Piao. “Prince, you’ve been shocked. It’s not appropriate for you to meet anyone yet. And the Princess Consort’s body must be laid to rest first.”

Prince Pingchang wished to speak further, but Prince Song, exhausted, rose in silence, no longer attending to him.

After a sleepless day and night, Prince Song returned inside, washed, and rested on his bed for a half-hour. His dark guard, Meng Qing, entered to apologize, kneeling and taking off his jacket, presenting himself in full submission.

The master had instructed him to be wary of Qian Tong.

Yet he had still been ensnared.

Meng Qing had been drugged by Qian Tong, lying in the carriage all night. He dared not imagine what consequences his failure could bring to the Prince.

Prince Song glanced at the sunlight streaming halfway across the pillar. Wang Zhao had not yet returned.

“Learn from your mistakes,” Prince Song said. He did not punish Meng Qing, but gave him a task: “Investigate Duan Yuanjin’s identity, trace the family records for three generations.”

Meng Qing went to the prison, collected twenty punishments, and left to investigate Duan Yuanjin.

Prince Song dressed, organized the Piao case, and went alone to see Madam Piao in the dungeon.

Madam Piao looked ten years older overnight. Her luxurious floating-silk robe was soiled with blood and dirt; her once-perfect hair was undone, disheveled.

The once-proud Madam Piao, like Third Madam, could not escape ruin.

Even worse, Third Madam had not been falsely accused—but Madam Piao’s son was dead, and now she was caught in a murder investigation, potentially condemning the entire Piao family.

She had not killed the Princess Consort.

When captured, she had said, “I did not kill the Princess Consort.” Now, seeing Prince Song, she clutched at the last straw of hope, pleading, “Your Highness, I swear I did not kill the Princess Consort. It was not a commoner’s hand…”

Prince Song said nothing.

Madam Piao realized that without a statement, she could not sway the magistrate. She admitted to hiring intruders to target him—but still retained enough reason to not implicate Prince Pingchang and the Princess Consort.

“This was my doing alone. My crime is great, yet the Princess Consort’s death—truly, I was innocent…” Madam Piao recalled the previous night. In her grief over her son, she had argued with the Princess Consort. Furious, she had pursued her, intending to confront her. But when she arrived…

“I saw him, Your Highness. I saw the thief,” she said.

Prince Song’s eyelids lifted slightly, finally reacting.

To prove her innocence, Madam Piao struggled to recall details. The intruder wore black, was thin, taller than the Princess Consort, standing behind her when the knife struck. Then she remembered.

“He had a blue hair tie on his head. Yes, blue… I saw it clearly, especially with the courtyard on fire…”

Just then, Wang Zhao entered. “Your Highness.”

Prince Song looked back, the murderous intent still flickering in his dark eyes.

Wang Zhao quickly lowered his head, knowing what to report: “Qian Tong has arrived, Your Highness. You should go see her.”