[Editors: Ajax Flameborn, Rain, the Author, Grammarly]

Lu Fan brought several beasties to carry back the princes. Jin was carried back directly by Mei Hua, who imitated Fu Jing’s earlier over-the-shoulder carry with ease. Fu Jing saw this and had to remind himself that not all women were inclined towards acting dainty and feminine like his wife. The keyword being “acting”, since his wife could lift ten men easily in her prime.

Once they returned to the Blue Flower Palace, Mei Hua had all the princes returned to their respective courtyards. Each son had been assigned a fairy nursemaid before they were born. When the princes grew up, those nursemaids became “head maids”. They functioned as half personal assistants and half general managers of each princes’ estate. The nursemaids and head maids had Mei Hua’s absolute trust. She knew she could leave her sleeping sons in their care without having to worry.

All the fairies had sensed when their Emperor and Lord had gone into a deep sleep. Before they’d been given individuality, whenever the Emperor slept they’d also sleep. This time, they didn’t sleep but they did feel sluggish. With only one exception, the usually quick and energetic fairies slowed down. Luckily this only put them on the level of mortal humans and they were still able to work reasonably well.

The only exception to this was Ye, who wasn’t affected at all. He’d remained in the Blue Flower Palace when Jin and Mei Hua had left to meet Fu Jing. At least one person with authority needed to remain in the palace and keep things orderly. When no one else wanted to be responsible, the task usually fell on Ye. This time was no exception.

After returning to the Palace, Mei Hua immediately informed Ye of everything that had happened. Naturally, he was pleased and vexed at Jin being out of commission for a while. On the one hand, he enjoyed not having to deal with Jin. On the other hand, it meant more work for him in the long run.

As for his nephews, he could only rub the bridge of his nose, sigh, and look a little forlorn. He liked all his nephews, except for Shan Hui who was too much like Jin for his tastes. The youngest ones he especially doted on and enjoyed being around. He would miss them for however long they were asleep. It also didn’t help that much of the work of the oldest nephews would fall on him too.

When Mei Hua saw Ye wasn’t affected by Jin’s extended nap, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why is everyone else acting like they’re tired to death but you’re perfectly fine?”

“Because I,” Ye raised his head and laid a hand on his heart, “was made directly by the Empress.”

“But didn’t she use a bit of Jin to—”

“MeiMei,” Ye interrupted with a wage of his finger. “Even if all the materials are the same, the experience and knowledge of the craftsman makes a huge difference. Every fairy you see here is just an imitation of the real thing. Knock-off goods, if you will. I am the real deal. There will obviously be a quality gap between myself and them.”

Mei Hua raised an eyebrow at him. “I understand what you’re saying but that attitude… it’s no wonder you and the other fairies have such a hard time getting along even after all this time.”

“I think we get along just fine, considering.”

“You do know they call you the Green Tyrant behind both our backs, right?”

He gave her a smug and unrepentant look. “Heh, like I said, we get along just fine.”

“Aya, why am I bothering even talking to you about this?” She muttered, feeling exasperated.

There was a hierarchy among the fairies and Ye was at the top. Even if they didn’t like him, as long as it didn’t contradict Jin, they’d do whatever he said.

There’s no fairy in the world who’d listen to someone they didn’t like unless that person had a quality that forced them to. Ye was the same in that sense. He stayed in the mountains out of love for the Empress, but the reason he never crossed Jin’s bottom line was because Jin vastly overpowered him. In the same way, the fairies listened to Ye because, no matter how much they hated it, he was superior to them.

Mei Hua wouldn’t have minded any of this, but he really was a “local tyrant” in the Palace. This made things awkward for her when Ye and the other fairies were in the same room and a conflict was brewing between them. Which was all the time. Siding with one meant she was siding against the other. She couldn’t win no matter what she did.

She understood Ye very well since he was somewhere between a brother and father to her. When he held a grudge, he really held a grudge. Reasoning didn’t help at all and only made him bury his vindictiveness deeper where she couldn’t see it. Not being able to see it didn’t mean it wasn’t there and definitely didn’t mean he wasn’t acting on it when she wasn’t watching.

That’s why she didn’t argue with him about it very often. It was better if he acted out in the open where she could do some damage control than behind her back where she had no idea what was happening.

Not that the other fairies were guilt-free either. There was no such thing as a truly innocent fairy, they all liked to pull pranks and schemes. The key was whether they liked you or not. If they liked you, the pranks were all in good fun, but if they didn’t like you, well…

It was fortunate they didn’t dare disobey Jin. There were people inside and outside the country they didn’t like for various personal reasons. If they’d been allowed they would have caused havoc all over the country and probably started a war or two already.

———

Thanks to Shi Ji’s efforts, the damage done by the earthquakes was minimal in the villages and towns. A few old, poorly built structures did collapse but luckily there was only a single serious injury resulting from that. Most of the injuries were sprains, light head wounds, and bruising from things falling on people or people falling on things around them.

However, those who did not heed the warnings to stay in town were not so lucky. Broken bones were the least of most of those people’s worries. At least two people had died from a sudden avalanche and another person was in a coma from a serious head injury caused by a falling tree.

The Fairy Doctor had stipulated that he wouldn’t bother treating anyone who directly disobeyed the Queen’s orders and everyone else’s injuries weren’t severe enough to pay his ridiculous fees to get treated. This left the worst injuries to be taken care of by the compassionate Jia Ying, currently the only Princess Consort, and her talented youngest blood-related son, Shirong. All her other children, with one exception, helped treat the less severe injuries across the country.

The adopted children and Shirong had all taken after their Mother and studied medicine or a related field. Going against the common practice of surrounding countries, not a single grandchild of the Emperor was given a royal title. Not even the blood-related grandsons. Instead, they had to earn a living just like everyone else. This wasn’t a problem because anyone trained by Jia Ying could easily find work outside the Palace.

When Jia Ying’s children got married or became self-sufficient, they left the Palace and lived something close to a normal life. As they spread across Lanhua, the populace affectionately called them “the Boshi’s (Doctor’s) Children”. By the time the second generation was born, the term was shortened to just “Boshi” and became their default surname.

When the Boshi family came out to treat earthquake victims without asking for pay or appointment, the citizens were thrilled. Getting treated by a Boshi was a badge of honor. Even if all they had was a scraped knee, they’d line up to get treated. It was particularly bad for Jia Ying and Shirong, who were considered something akin to Miracle Doctors in the east. The “Imperial Guards” had to be called to enforce law and order.

While Shirong became a doctor, his older blood-brother by ten years, Wei Sheng, married Linbai, the oldest daughter of Longwei and Guilei. Wei Sheng made his Granny Mei extremely happy by marrying Linbai, but he disappointed his Mother by not going into medicine. Instead, he took after his father and chose a brutal and dangerous profession. The “Shadow of the Imperial Guards”, a specific division within the military created by his wife’s family.

There were Imperial Guards and “Imperial Guards” within Lanhua. The first set were the originals, primarily made up of fairies who defended the Palace directly. The second set were Shadow Guards, split into three divisions: bodyguards to the royal family, spies, and assassins. Guilei and Longwei personally trained both the regular Imperial Guards and their “Shadows”. Wei Sheng was their only trainee who managed to master everything they taught and even improve on some parts, making him the default successor by merit rather than marriage.

Though it was true none of the children and grandchildren of the Emperor had royal titles, they were still part of the royal family and written down in the genealogy books. As such, they were all entitled to specific kinds of protection from the Palace. The Boshi family was already famous and people tended to panic after a disaster, so the Shadow Guards were dispatched in an “official public capacity” to deal with crowd control.

The thinking behind why Shadow Guards were technically a subdivision of the Imperial Guards was for this very reason. They could function in the light and shadow by having a “respectable” profession on the surface. The public and most of the Lanhua government weren’t aware that the Imperial Guards had a shadow organization residing within it. Even the Boshi family, outside of the first generation, was unaware of the dual nature within the Imperial Guards.

———

Jia Ying was attempting to put a broken skull back together when her assistant and son, Shirong, suddenly swayed next to her. She paused what she was doing and glanced at him.

“Are you alright?” She asked in suppressed alarm, careful lest she brought harm to her patient. They hadn’t been working at this for long, Shirong shouldn’t be exhausted.

He blinked in rapid succession, brow wrinkled as he self-accessed. “I seem to have been overcome with a wave of severe fatigue.” He paused. “I think I need to sit down.”

Jia Ying frowned and then called out in a low voice, “Yuan Zhou.”

Instantly, a boy no taller than her hip appeared next to her. He had dark skin and dark blue hair tied into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. His turquoise eyes were large and innocent and he looked no more than five. Though he was small, he was clearly a Tree Spirit.

“Yes Master?”

“Can you look at Shirong and tell me if there’s anything unusual happening in his body?” Jia Ying then looked at her son, “Sit.”

“Ok!” Yuan Zhou walked over to Shirong with a bounce in his step, totally unperturbed by the man with parts of his brain showing and surrounded by strange sharp instruments covered in blood.

Shirong sat down on a nearby chair and apologized, “Sorry about this, Mother.”

Jia Ying only gave a single “mmm” in response before focusing back on her patient. Though she was worried about her son, the person with the broken head in front of her took priority.

Yuan Zhou stood in front of Shirong and tilted his head, bright eyes staring intently. After a moment, he tilted his head the other direction. He then stood up straight, as if surprised.

“Oh! Big Sis says to say: Do not be alarmed. Blood descendants of the Emperor may suffer from severe exhaustion or pass out. This is a side effect of the Emperor sleeping— oh! The Emperor is sleeping, so that explains it—” Yuan Zhou nodded his head before continuing. “There’s no way to know when the Emperor is going to wake up, so there’s no way to know when any blood descendants will stop sleeping or suffering from fatigue. Blood descendants should take precautions and return to the Palace when they’re able. Yuan Zhou, please pass this message along to Wei Shen— oh, that part’s only for me!”

Yuan Zhou blushed, embarrassed.

“Master, is it alright if I go tell Wei Sheng too?”

Both Jia Ying and Shirong were curious about what this little Tree Spirit meant by the Emperor sleeping and to what degree it had affected husband and father, Yan Li. Jia Ying could only worry about so many things at once with a patient on the table and settled on her oldest son. Since Shirong had reacted to this mysterious event so strongly, Wei Sheng likely did as well. Depending on what he was doing at the moment, a sudden wave of exhaustion could be inconvenient.

Without looking up from her patient, Jia Ying said, “Yes, I’d appreciate it Yuan Zhou.”

He gave a sing-song “Ok!” before he disappeared.

Shirong yawned despite himself, his eyes watering slightly. He then rubbed them and stood back up and walked over to his Mother.

“You think you’re fit to help me with this?” Jia Ying asked when she saw him approach out of the corner of her eye. “It would be better to go back to the Palace.”

“You need my help.”

“Mmmm.”

“It’s not like I’m going to get less tired. That being the case, I might as well stand here and at least attempt to be useful.”

She pressed her lips together for a moment and then sighed. “Fine. But if you feel the exhaustion getting worse…”

“Yes, yes, I wasn’t trained by you and Doctor Zufu for nothing. I won’t endanger myself or the patient.”

Her lip curled up slightly at his exasperated tone.

Indeed, they’d trained him well.

———

“What on earth?”

“Did someone hit him?”

“Hey you lot, back off, we’ve got a man down!”

A crowd of citizens was standing at the entrance of a neat but small building. Some were family or friends of patients, others were injured but not severely so, but a large portion were just rubberneckers. Even after an earthquake, quite a few people still managed to find the time to be interested in other people’s business.

To keep them orderly, several “Imperial Guards” had arrived. They wore thick gray armor and their belt buckle was a carved circular sun with mountains inside, a symbol of the Emperor. While the Imperial Guards were intimidating, they didn’t have a reputation for being bullies or cruel. Other than the few foreigners in the crowd, most of the people weren’t afraid of them. They even had the gall to unashamedly rubberneck the Imperial Guards themselves.

When one of the three Guards collapsed unexpectedly, these rubberneckers immediately crowded around to watch the show. This caused the remaining two Guards a lot of headaches.

“I always heard Imperial Guards were strong, who knew they would collapse just like that.” A random person in the crowd commented callously.

“On the upside,” another person responded, “if they’re going to collapse, this is the place to do it.”

“True, very true. Famous doctor right there and everything.”

“Hey, you think they’ll bring him in? Think we’ll catch a glimpse of the Princess Consort?”

“I heard that if you look into her eyes, that’s ten years good luck.”

“Really? I heard you had to touch her.”

“What?! Touch the Second Prince’s wife? Do you have a death wish?”

“Eh— it’s just what I heard—”

“Well, you keep that nonsense to yourself. I, for one, happen to want to live a life with all my limbs attached.”

“...it’s not like I meant I was going to touch her…”

“Isn’t she a top physician? Doesn’t she touch people all the time?”

“That’s different though. It’s alright if she touched you, but not the other way around.”

“Oh... that makes sense.”

The two guards listened to this nonsense and gave each other an exasperated glance while trying to figure out why their companion had collapsed on them. Lanhua citizens were always like this. They’d just say whatever was on their minds. It was only around the Emperor and certain Princes did they feel the need for self-restraint.

“Hello.” A small boy with dark blue hair and brown skin walked up to the two guards.

The crowd blanked for a moment. Where did this kid come from? They could swear he wasn’t there just a moment ago.

“You’re Yuan Zhou, right?” One of the Guards asked, expression gentle.

“That’s right, I’m here to pass on a message from Big Sis to Wei Shang—” The Tree Spirit paused and looked down, a confused expression. “—but he’s already asleep… how do I pass along the message?”

Hearing the phrase “already asleep” both Guards relaxed slightly. If Yuan Zhou knew about this and wasn’t upset or worried, it couldn’t be that bad.

“You can tell it to us—” The other Guard suggested.

The crowd leaned forward eagerly, all ears. Seeing this, the Guard rolled his eyes.

“—but do so quietly, so that this lot can’t hear you.”

The crowd grumbled, saying things like “Stingy!” and “No fun at all!”.