WBSGVS Chapter 205 V1

Although Sima Heng was reluctant, Prince Duan’s reasoning was sound. With the ministers petitioning, he had no choice but to issue the imperial decree.

Prince Duan, furious, became even more determined not to attend court. As soon as the edict was issued, he left without a word. He was genuinely grateful that he had held tightly to half of the military power and hadn’t placed his trust in that nephew of his—otherwise, the Jin Dynasty would have long fallen into the hands of the regent!

Still, the imperial edict was issued.

With the decree, the engagement was automatically nullified. After all, the heir to another kingdom could never be a son-in-law, so either the marriage would have to be renegotiated or a new princess chosen.

That very day, after court, the decree appointing the new National Preceptor (Guoshi) was passed down layer by layer. The entire court knew about it, and once it reached the common folk, the celebrations exploded.

If the edict appointing a Princess Royal had stirred envy, then this one—naming the National Preceptor—left Sima Qinghe with nothing but jealousy.

Yet when the edict for the National Preceptor was announced, there was utter silence.

No one objected.

The truth was, this matter was simply too monumental.

Even the common folk who had initially refused to move out changed their minds, and they couldn’t stop talking about how Princess Leyi could communicate with the divine, saving them from a flood-level disaster.

Her popularity among the people soared to its peak.

At a time like this, Qingli being named National Preceptor just felt… natural.

Once everything had settled, preparations for the investiture ceremony began.

There had been National Preceptors in Jin before. The last one, by all accounts, was truly capable. After being appointed, he rarely showed himself, only appearing when the emperor had pressing need. One day, the Guoshi Manor was found empty, and people claimed the preceptor had transcended this world. Since then, no one had held the title again.

Because of that precedent, there was a ceremonial framework to follow for Qingli’s appointment.

In the great hall, the emperor personally presented her with the official robes. Once she donned them, she received bows from the entire court.

The National Preceptor stood above all other positions, not needing to bow even to the emperor. Her words would now carry enormous weight.

Such a role should have been granted with extreme caution, but Qingli had already proven herself. The recent disaster had earned her the public’s love. She was also a member of the royal family. Making her the National Preceptor? Nothing shocking about that.

She wouldn’t turn on her own family, would she?

The Guoshi Manor had long gone without upkeep and was uninhabitable for now. Qingli continued living in the Chaoyang Palace.

Now, Chaoyang Palace has become the place to be. People came and went constantly—some to offer congratulations, others to express thanks, and many to ask for her guidance.

The first two groups, Qingli dealt with briefly and politely before sending them off. For the last group, she remained diligent and responsible, answering questions seriously.

After sending off the wife of an official, Qingli was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when she saw a young man standing at the doorway—it was Sima Chang. He held a box in his hands and approached with a smile.

“Little sister,” he said warmly, “congratulations. This is a gift from your big brother—I hope you like it.”

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful, delicate set of jewelry.

“This set,” he said with a grin, “was supposedly our imperial grandmother’s favorite. If I hadn’t earned great merit and been rewarded by the emperor, I wouldn’t have had the chance to even touch it!”

Qingli’s smile turned polite, her tone cool. “This is too valuable, brother. You’d better keep it.”

In the past few days, she had received many gifts. Even the Second Prince had sent a present, though it was clear from both sides’ attitude that it was just a formality, with no extra message implied. This man, however, was trying to win her over.

Sima Chang, undeterred, pushed the box toward her enthusiastically. “Oh, come on. It’s nothing! If you want something else, just say the word—your brother will get it for you.”

He was still talking when the box was smoothly pushed right back into his hands.

The force was solid, just like that time she had shattered a table with a pair of chopsticks. He couldn’t even resist it.

Qingli wiped her hands and said meaningfully, “Brother, I think this would be much more appropriate for your future princess consort. Don’t you agree?”

Sima Chang’s expression darkened.

As a prince still in the fight for the throne, being given a title like “Prince” meant elimination from the competition. Was she implying that?

He took a deep breath. He’d always known Qingli wouldn’t be easily swayed, but he didn’t expect her to be this utterly unyielding.

Wasn’t she just a little brat, barely ten years old? Putting all his hopes on her now—wasn’t it a bit premature?

He gave up trying to press the gift, gripping the box tightly with both hands, his tone sharp. “You do think long-term, huh? Still, kids are the easiest to—mmph!”

Before he could finish the snide remark, he doubled over in pain—Qingli had kicked him square in the gut before the offensive words could leave his mouth.

The blow was so hard, he felt like his organs had been rearranged.

Sima Chang stumbled backward, crashing into a pillar, stunned and in pain. “You dare—”

But Qingli didn’t stop. She stepped forward and—smack, smack, smack…

After several sharp slaps, her palm was stinging, and his face was red with perfectly symmetrical handprints.

Qingli stepped back, satisfied. Her voice dropped cold. “Say one more thing I don’t like, and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

Sima Chang’s breath caught in his throat. His cheeks throbbed from the force of the blows—beyond pain, they felt numb. He stared at her in shock. She was as arrogant as ever, only now she wasn’t holding back at all.

In that moment, he remembered the fear he’d felt the last time—when she drove a pair of chopsticks clean through a table.

A terrifying thought struck him: if she’d had a pair of chopsticks now, and he hadn’t backed off in time, his hand might have ended up with a hole through it.

Clenching his jaw, face grim, he said nothing more and left in humiliation.

Qingli smiled sweetly, but there was a chill beneath it.

Back then, she hadn’t been strong enough to fully protect Sima Yan.

When she first left the Cold Palace, she had no power base. So she’d threatened Sima Chang with the promise of revenge on behalf of Sima Yan. It had been enough to make him hesitate. But now that he had realized her ambition, he had no choice but to act—if he waited for Sima Yan to grow up with Qingli at his side, he’d never stand a chance.

Too bad.

It was already too late.

That very day, Qingli brought Sima Yan to live with her.

As the National Preceptor, she held privileges no other princess had. Sima Yan was her full-blooded brother, and she insisted on personally raising him. Though some thought it unorthodox, no one opposed it too strongly.

Most believed the real heir to the throne would come from either the Second or Third Prince, especially the Third. The Fourth Prince, Sima Yan, was still just a child, unpredictable and not worth backing. So this matter was seen as inconsequential.

—

In October, Qingli officially moved into the Guoshi Manor, bringing Sima Yan with her.

The manor was large and spacious, but with only two residents, it remained peaceful and quiet. There weren’t many palace servants either. Qingli and Sima Yan lived freely, just like they had in the Cold Palace.

With this new life, Sima Yan—who had become more reserved over time—finally began to smile again.

Especially because… he didn’t have to go to the Imperial Academy anymore!

No more homework!

But his joy didn’t last long.

Just two days later, Qingli herself began tutoring him and assigning homework.

Sima Yan was listless again. At least the Imperial Academy had classmates to rely on—people to help each other out.

While teaching her younger brother, Qingli also bore the responsibilities of her role as National Preceptor. Handling strange and difficult illnesses was routine. But there was another pressing matter—should the Jin dynasty go to war with Chu?

That decision required the National Preceptor’s guidance.