Chapter Nine: There Is a Price to Pay for Pulling Strings

After listening to Zhu Changluo’s words, Zhu Hao immediately dropped to his knees and declared, “Your son obeys your command. Thank you, Father, for your trust. I will go with Eldest Brother at once to investigate the case. As soon as we have results, I shall report to Father immediately!”

A gentle smile warmed Zhu Changluo’s face as he looked at Zhu Hao with fatherly affection and nodded. “Go, then.”

With his father’s permission, Zhu Hao swiftly took Zhu Youxiao’s hand and left the imperial study. Unbeknownst to them, as they walked away, Zhu Changluo watched their departing figures and shook his head with a wry smile.

Once they had gone some distance from the study, Zhu Youxiao, still trembling, turned to Zhu Hao and stammered, “Thank… thank you, little brother! Father nearly scared me to death just now. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I could have walked out of that room!”

Zhu Hao wanted to pat Zhu Youxiao’s shoulder in comfort, but thinking it might be improper, he simply flashed him a sweet smile and said, “Brother, we’re family. There’s no need for thanks. If anything happens, I’ll always help you!”

Zhu Youxiao nodded, gratitude written all over his face. “You really are the best, little brother! In the future, I’ll make you even more wood carvings!”

Zhu Hao nearly jumped up and cursed at this. Was this really a way to express thanks? He thought, couldn’t you at least promise to make me a general or something? But more wood carvings? Was that gratitude or just fooling around?

Still, knowing Zhu Youxiao’s nature, Zhu Hao let it go. For him, perhaps this was the most sincere form of thanks. As for titles or official positions, Zhu Youxiao probably never imagined he might one day become emperor of the Ming Dynasty. Everyone could see that, in the palace, Zhu Youxiao was little more than a nominal crown prince, a man without real support or affection. Otherwise, after such a catastrophic fire in the eastern palace, Zhu Changluo would have been furious, punishing the night watchmaids and eunuchs without hesitation. That would have been in line with protocol. Yet, not a single person had been punished.

While Zhu Hao pondered all this, he put on an expression of delighted surprise and said, “Really, brother? Then you must keep your promise!” As he spoke, he tugged on Zhu Youxiao’s arm, acting spoiled.

At this, the gloom that had clouded Zhu Youxiao’s face finally lifted, and he smiled, fondly ruffling Zhu Hao’s hair. “Of course I wouldn’t lie to you. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get plenty of wood carvings in the future.”

But as soon as he finished, his smile faded, replaced by a shadow of worry. He asked anxiously, “Little brother, you said you could uncover the truth behind the palace fire. How are you going to do it? Where will you start? Is there anything I can do to help? If we can’t find anything, Father will surely punish us both!”

Zhu Hao could sense his brother’s concern. After all, he had boasted in front of their father, not Zhu Youxiao. If their father became angry, the blame would fall on Zhu Hao. But Zhu Hao also heard another meaning in Zhu Youxiao’s words: if Zhu Hao couldn’t solve it, his brother would stand with him and bear the consequences together.

Although Zhu Hao was a master at performance, he was truly moved by Zhu Youxiao’s sincere affection. He resolved to do everything in his power to protect his brother.

To ease Zhu Youxiao’s worry, Zhu Hao answered with conviction, “Brother, rest assured! The person I’m seeking is an expert at solving cases. Once I lost a toy I loved, and no matter how I searched, I couldn’t find it. But this person found it for me in just half a day. Don’t worry! Go back to the eastern palace and wait for me. Once I’ve found that person, I’ll come to you—how does that sound?”

Zhu Youxiao was still a little doubtful, but chose to trust Zhu Hao. He nodded. “Very well, I’ll wait in the eastern palace for your news!”

The brothers clasped hands in farewell. As soon as Zhu Hao returned to his own quarters, he saw Wei Xiaobao waiting outside. Zhu Hao didn’t waste words and simply instructed, “Xiaobao, I have important matters to attend to. Stand guard here and do not allow anyone to disturb me!”

Wei Xiaobao quickly replied, “Yes, Your Highness! I will obey!”

Zhu Hao turned and entered his quarters, closing the door behind him in preparation for a “friendly” conversation with his system.

Sitting on his bed, Zhu Hao summoned the system sprite, Xiaoling. She soon replied, “Master, how may I serve you?”

In a negotiating tone, Zhu Hao said, “Xiaoling, I need an expert detective right now. With my current summon points, how can I bring forth such a talent?”

He was clearly trying to find a loophole. But Xiaoling, seemingly oblivious to worldly affairs, replied formally, “Specialized investigators are generally three-star or higher civilian officials. Master currently has 520 summon points, which allows for only a non-specific two-star talent.”

Unwilling to give up, Zhu Hao pressed on, “I know that, but can’t you make an exception? We both ended up in the Ming Dynasty by accident—we’re kindred spirits in a strange land. Surely you can help me out! If I die, you might not fare any better!”

He coaxed and threatened in equal measure, waiting patiently for her answer. He was certain the summon system had its loopholes, and the sprite knew where they were. Now, with his life on the line, he was sure Xiaoling would relent.

Indeed, as he expected, Xiaoling finally spoke, her voice aggrieved and tinged with sadness. “There is a way, but…” Her words trailed off, filled with sorrow, but the urgency of the situation left Zhu Hao with no time to care. He pressed, “What way? Tell me quickly!”

With a hint of tears in her voice, Xiaoling answered, “I can issue you a storyline quest ahead of time and grant you a portion of the reward in advance. That way, you can summon a three-star talent. But…”

Zhu Hao, delighted, cut her off immediately. “No more buts! Do it now—give me the quest!”

In a voice full of determination, Xiaoling agreed. Soon, Zhu Hao heard the long-missed system notifications:

“System storyline quest: Save Concubine Liu!”

“Time limit: Three years. Ensure Concubine Liu survives!”

“Quest rewards: 2,000 summon points, one four-star summon, one three-star summon!”

“Ding!”

“Due to the long time limit, a partial advance reward will be granted.”

“If you fail the quest midway, all advance rewards will be deducted at double value.”

“Congratulations, host, you have received part of the storyline quest ‘Save Concubine Liu’ reward!”

“Congratulations, host, you have gained one three-star talent summon!”

“Congratulations, host, you have gained 1,000 summon points!”

A string of system notifications sent Zhu Hao leaping off his bed in excitement. But as the saying goes, joy can turn to sorrow in an instant. In his enthusiasm, Zhu Hao’s head met the window beam in a collision of absolute intimacy, and a swelling quickly rose on his forehead. The pain left him crouched on the floor, unable to stand for a long time. If not for worrying that he’d alarm Wei Xiaobao waiting outside, Zhu Hao would have screamed in agony.

He didn’t know how long he remained there, only that the pain in his head eventually dulled. Holding his head, he slowly stood—only for disaster to strike again, making him realize just how misfortunes never come singly.

No sooner had he gotten to his feet than the system chimed again:

“Ding!”

“System has detected that sprite Xiaoling issued a quest in advance.”

“System sprite will now enter a sleep phase.”

“Sleep will last until the quest is completed.”

“If the host fails the quest, the sprite will sleep forever.”

Stunned by this string of notifications, Zhu Hao plopped back to the ground. He hadn’t expected that his unreasonable request would send Xiaoling into a forced slumber. He finally understood her earlier hesitation.

A heavy sorrow weighed on his heart. He had only wanted to bend the rules; he’d never imagined such a dire consequence. He’d never even seen Xiaoling’s true form—she existed only as that gentle voice in his mind. But he knew she wasn’t just a cold machine; otherwise, his threats would never have moved her to such sacrifice. In Zhu Hao’s mind, Xiaoling had always been a sweet, innocent girl, cheerful and pure. And now, because of his selfishness, she would sleep for three years—and if he failed, she would vanish forever. The weight of this was unbearable.

Collapsing to the floor, Zhu Hao wept, clutching his hair and murmuring Xiaoling’s name. Lost in his grief, he seemed to hear once more her gentle, familiar voice: “Don’t be sad, Master. This is only a temporary slumber. Once you complete the task, I’ll see you again. Hurry now and summon the talent you need!”

He didn’t know if those words were truly from Xiaoling or a figment of his imagination. But either way, Zhu Hao knew he couldn’t fall now; otherwise, he would have betrayed all she had sacrificed for him.

Rising once more, Zhu Hao shouted, “Open the summoning system! Begin the summon!”