Zhi Ge arrived swiftly—barely giving Bai Zhu time to exit before appearing at the study door.
"Princess Consort."
"Prompt as ever."
Gu Yanshu set down his brush, the unfinished ledger forgotten as he smiled at the guard.
Though the expression was deceptively pleasant, Zhi Ge felt an inexplicable prickle of unease.
"How may this subordinate serve?"
Gu Yanshu began with praise:
"His Highness mentioned you're exceptionally discreet—that I could entrust you with anything."
"The Prince overestimates me." Zhi Ge's wariness deepened with every compliment.
"Not at all." Gu Yanshu waved off the modesty. "Your silence about my movements proves it."
Zhi Ge stiffened slightly.
He had withheld Gu Yanshu's activities from Qin Lu—
But only because the Prince never asked.
Had the question been posed?
His loyalty wouldn't have wavered.
The unspoken truth hung between them until Gu Yanshu continued:
"Today, I require your service and your silence—even if His Highness inquires."
"This…"
For the first time in memory, Zhi Ge hesitated visibly.
Gu Yanshu wasn't surprised.
Despite recent cooperation, Zhi Ge remained Qin Lu's man first.
Priority rankings were clear.
Rather than press, Gu Yanshu spun his request differently:
"No need for such tension. It's merely about a gift."
His fingers drifted to the deer pendant at his waist—
Rotating it absently as he spoke:
"Since His Highness gifted me this jade, reciprocity is only proper. But presents lose charm without surprise—hence the secrecy."
The gesture was too deliberate to ignore.
Zhi Ge wasn't blind—he recognized that jade deer instantly.
Having served Qin Lu since the prince's first campaign at sixteen—
He knew exactly what this heirloom meant.
Then came the memory of Qin Lu's parting order:
"Serve the Princess Consort as you would me."
After a weighted pause, Zhi Ge yielded:
"This is truly just... for a gift?"
*"Naturally."** Gu Yanshu's smile deepened.
(A gift would ultimately reach Qin Lu anyway—no true deception.)
Zhi Ge exhaled. "This subordinate will maintain secrecy."
"Then lean closer."
Victory flashed across Gu Yanshu's face as he crooked a finger.
Had Qin Hao been present—
He'd have bolted at that fox-like grin.
But Zhi Ge, inexperienced with Gu Yanshu's schemes, stepped forward—
Sealing his fate.
The revealed plan made him stiffen:
"Princess Consort—this?"
"Having second thoughts?" Gu Yanshu's voice turned silk-wrapped steel. "Recall your pledge."
Zhi Ge's brow furrowed. Had he known the audacity—
"But the risks—"
"—are precisely why I chose you." Gu Yanshu cut in. "Only Prince Li's own could handle this securely."
Silence.
The argument was sound—
For such sensitive matters, internal operatives were mandatory.
Noting Zhi Ge's wavering, Gu Yanshu struck the final blow:
"We're merely crafting a prototype. Should it succeed, His Highness will oversee scaling—no room for error."
The perfect rationale.
After another heartbeat, Zhi Ge bowed. "Understood."
"Excellent."
Dismissed with a flick of Gu Yanshu's wrist—
Zhi Ge departed to execute the most unconventional royal gift in Tianqi's history.
Just as Zhi Ge crossed the threshold, Gu Yanshu's voice floated after him:
"His Highness was right—entrusting tasks to you is truly reassuring."
Zhi Ge's step faltered.
For the first time in his life, he questioned whether earning his prince's trust had been entirely wise.
But the die was cast—
Now shackled to Gu Yanshu's scheme, his only hope was Qin Lu's mercy upon discovery.
(Perhaps exceptional competence will earn leniency...)
Meanwhile in the Palace
Qin Lu had just concluded official matters with Emperor Qin Yuan—
Now presenting the lacquered box of glassware.
"A gift for Us?"
The Emperor knew his sons.
Qin Lu wasn't the type for unsolicited presents—
Previous offerings had been war spoils, delivered to the national treasury per tradition.
Yet here he stood—
No festival, no occasion—bearing tribute.
Just as puzzlement creased the imperial brow—
"The Princess Consort crafted these novelties. Learning of my audience, he requested I bring them."
Qin Lu never stole credit.
"Prince Li's consort?"
Emperor Yuan had heard of Gu Yanshu's notorious reputation—
Which only deepened his curiosity about the box's contents.
A wave summoned eunuchs to lift the lid.
Atop layered silk lay a tea set of crystalline clarity.
"Is this... liuli?"
Even the Emperor's practiced eye widened momentarily.
Yet lifting a cup shattered that assumption—
The material was cooler than jade, lighter than crystal.
"Not liuli. What sorcery is this?"
Having studied Qin Lu's earlier liuli gift extensively—
The differences were unmistakable:
No stone's organic warmth.
No gem's dense weight.
Just pure translucence, as if holding captured moonlight.
The liuli cup had carried the dense, grounding weight of carved jade**—**
But this?**
Light as a feather in his palm.
Even the craftsmanship differed—
Where the liuli bore a sculptor's chisel marks, this glass cup's rim was smooth as polished porcelain.
As Emperor Yuan noted these contrasts, Qin Lu provided context:
"Not liuli. The Princess Consort calls it 'bōli'—glass."
"Bō...li?" The unfamiliar syllables rolled awkwardly off the imperial tongue.
"Consider it liuli's kin," Qin Lu explained, "but clearer, brighter—and man-made, like porcelain."
The clarification aligned with Emperor Yuan's deductions—
This material wasn't some rare natural treasure, but its novelty held charm.
Transparent as mountain springs, it was unlike anything in the imperial collection.
That alone pleased him.
"Xiao Dezi!" The Emperor beckoned his chief eunuch. "Brew tea with this set."
"At once, Your Majesty!"
As Wang Gonggong carefully extracted the tea set—
Emperor Yuan spotted larger glass objects beneath.
"And those?"
"Lamp covers," Qin Lu answered without looking.
"Lamp covers?"
Tea sets made sense—but lamp covers?
Qin Lu's explanation came stiffly, as if reciting an unfamiliar script:
"The Princess Consort noted Your Majesty often reviews memorials by candlelight. Silk lamp covers dim the flames further. Glass... brightens them."
The Emperor's breath caught.
Age had stolen his night vision—
Candlelit paperwork now strained his eyes like deciphering ghosts' scribbles.
Here was salvation, delivered unexpectedly.
"Xiao Dezi!"
The eunuch, anticipating his master's need, was already bowing:
"This slave will replace the covers at once!"
Handling the glass with reverent caution—
(Remembering its fragility from the teacup's weightlessness)—
Wang Gonggong swiftly swapped the silk shade for glass.
With the new cover in place, Wang Gonggong bowed deeply:
"Your Majesty, the effect is best seen with closed shutters."
"Do it."
A flick of the Emperor's wrist sent junior eunuchs scrambling to seal the study.
As darkness enveloped the room—
Wang struck flint to candle.
Light erupted.
Not the feeble glow of silk-diffused flames—
But a radiant pool, crisp as noon sunlight.
Emperor Yuan exhaled in wonder:
"Truly brighter! These glass lamp covers excel!"
The tea set had been aesthetic novelty—
But this? Practical revelation.
Soon, every candle in the study wore glass—
Transforming the chamber into daylit clarity.
"These please Us immensely! Prepare rewards!"
Qin Lu clasped his hands:
"The Princess Consort specifically requested—no imperial gifts."
*"Oh?"** Emperor Yuan arched a brow. "Refusing Our favor?"
"He said Your Majesty's grace in declining the gambling hall funds was generosity enough. These glass items are heartfelt offerings—tainted if reciprocated."
Though Qin Lu didn't fully grasp the sentiment—
Emperor Yuan did.
That 1.2 million taels he'd reluctantly forfeited for royal dignity—
(Had they gone to Qin Lu's troops instead of Qin Sheng's coffers, the sting would've lessened.)
Now, bathed in this miraculous light, regret finally eased.
Then—
"Xiao Dezi mentioned multiple crates entered with you?"
Something in the Emperor's tone made Qin Lu pause:
"Glass trinkets for Noble Consort Hui—also heartfelt offerings."
*"Ah."** A beat of poorly masked disappointment. "Well, she awaits. Best not delay."
Dismissed, Qin Lu bowed—
Leaving the Emperor to his newly illuminated memorials.