Fhao's stay was for at least a month, as he would study with several leaders and government representatives to become a suitable Khan for his people. In the meantime, Ming and Ahmad walked through the palace courtyards carrying Confucian scrolls, intent on unraveling the mystery Prince Fhao had presented.
Ming's sisters and brothers were surrounding the prince right as Ming walked past with his scrolls. He handed the documents to Ahmad and approached Prince Fhao, who was visibly suffocated by the sweet-smelling Yin-xu surrounding him. Upon Ming's arrival—clad in scholar's robes and wearing a patient expression—Fhao felt internally grateful for the brief friendship he had struck with the Prince of Jade.
"Your Majesty, I am going for tea, and I have updates on that riddle you left for Ahmad and me," Ming said with a soft laugh. "Would you like to share a cup with us? If my brothers and sisters wish, they may come along—as expected, the Prince is very popular."
Most of his siblings understood that Ming was not competing for territory but merely conversing as a scholar. Ziteng, however, did not. He always competed with Ming for the Emperor's attention, for Ming was adored by their father, even though he was more Han than Mongol.
Ziteng had a face polished by the sun from his hobby of riding horses. His cheekbones were high, showing his ancestry, paired with the thin eyes of an eagle and a gallant smile. He was the perfect representation of a Mongol Yin-xu. His clothes were dark blue and richly detailed, cinched by a red belt adorned with jades that highlighted his absolute Mongol style. He wore a pointed hat decorated with jewels and a falcon feather, with strings of pearls falling gracefully beside his face.
The tension and competition for the prince's attention among the Yin-xu always seemed aimed at avoiding Ziteng's ire, as if he were above them all. Even though he wasn't the favorite, he was the son of the Superior Empress, and she would not hesitate to cause trouble for the other consorts and their children for Ziteng's sake.
"Brother Ziteng!" Ming called out. He lacked the social dexterity he possessed academically, so he simply offered a bright smile that made Ziteng disarm slightly. "Come with us. I made that almond halva you like."
Ziteng relaxed, let out a sigh, and nodded. Ming wanted to help him stay close to Fhao, as he seemed to have taken a liking to the "brute," and Ziteng's presence would help Ming feel at ease. After all, Fhao would need to behave himself in front of two princes.
"Brother Ming, you really know how to get a smile out of me, don't you?" Ziteng sighed with a small smile. He was older than Ming, but he occasionally felt guilty for directed his anger toward him. The other princes gracefully said their goodbyes as Ming guided the group to one of the tents in the palace garden.
The comfortable tent, made of silk and furs with embroidered cushions, now hosted three princes for an animated dialogue about their discoveries. Ming instructed Ahmad regarding the sweets and tea, and specifically requested coffee—a rarity even among princes, but a drink he loved. He then opened the scrolls brought by Ahmad and began to explain his theory, first introducing the topic to Ziteng.
"So, Brother Ziteng, knowing my love for riddles, Prince Fhao asked for help with one he was presented with," Ming explained, respecting Fhao's privacy by not revealing every detail as he showed them a drawing. "This box contains something precious left by his father, and Ahmad and I are trying to decipher how to open it."
"Fascinating, Brother. You do love a good riddle, don't you?" Ziteng remarked. He now saw Ming as his sweet scholar brother, noting that he wasn't competing for Fhao's attention, which made him feel much calmer. When Ahmad arrived with the tea, sweets, and Ming's coffee, the scholar continued.
"Your Majesty, could you recite the riddle for us while I present my theories?" Ming asked Fhao, who was sitting in a relaxed manner, watching Ming with a curious gaze.
"The King is not the one who rides over the earth, but the one who understands what sustains it. To open what is closed, bring me the four pillars that cannot be touched, but without which the empire falls into darkness," Fhao recited. He knew the words by heart, having tried to unravel them for nearly a year.
Ming nodded and presented a paper where the riddle was written with specific characters highlighted.
"Your father used Confucian teachings to write this riddle," Ming explained. "What he calls 'pillars that cannot be touched' is what my tutors call Si Wei. Imagine the empire as the largest tent you've ever seen: the fabric represents the people and the ropes are the laws. But without the four central pillars, the tent collapses at the first gust of wind. These pillars are the virtues of the soul."
Ziteng looked surprised. He watched Ming while eating a sweet, suddenly remembering his own studies. This made Ming smile.
"Brother Ming, I remember those lessons! They are Li, Yi, Lian, and Chi!" Ziteng exclaimed, momentarily excited before covering his mouth to finish swallowing.
"That's right, Brother Ziteng," Ming replied. "Teachings usually reserved for imperial princes or scholars—which our Mongol cousins don't fully approve of. Curious, isn't it? But back to what matters: we have deciphered at least one part."
Ahmad handed the final scroll to Ming, who spread it across the table.
"First: Li, or respect. His Majesty needs to perform the same reverence he makes to the Emperor, but while holding the box. Second: Yi, or justice. This one is more complex; I believe your father gave you a dagger or sword that, when placed on top, will unlock the second lever. The idea is that you must serve with your sword—the Yang gives himself to Yi, you see?"
Ming explained the concept with such clarity that even Ziteng was perplexed. Fhao, however, was feeling something different—surprise mixed with a strange... attraction? This young man had spent nights on a problem that had taken Fhao months to even approach. Yet Ming didn't look down on him; he acted as if he were simply having fun.
"My father gave me a small dagger he bought on a trip, but I never imagined it could be related," Fhao said with a light laugh, his eyes fixed on Ming, who continued with infectious excitement.
"The biggest problem is Lian," Ming confessed with a sigh. "We aren't entirely sure, but it seems to be something you'll understand once you see the box. The concept is 'purity' or 'integrity.' I would risk cleaning it with water from a nearby river or perhaps polishing it. Unfortunately, this one is quite difficult." He paused before reaching the final part. "The last one, Chi, is a gesture of humility. I don't know if your voice admitting an error would suffice, but I would suggest either a deep reverence or abandoning something you love near the box—something that grants you status—to demonstrate your humility as you would before your father."
Fhao was stunned. He didn't even touch his tea. Qara, standing at his side, had his eyebrows raised in deep surprise. Even Ziteng, though slightly irritated by how much attention Ming was drawing, maintained a polite smile.
"If you are surprised, imagine what it's like to live with him," Ziteng commented. "He has been doing this sort of thing since he learned to read at five years old."
"But one thing doesn't make sense," Fhao noted, now relaxed and eager to test the theories. "How are you such an erudite prince if your father dislikes scholars?"
The scholar let out a sigh, sipping his coffee. "I was lucky. My mother is the daughter of doctors; she is highly skilled in medicine. She takes care of the minor concubines to assist Ziteng's mother."
"Exactly," Ziteng added. "She even delivered me. She is a very intelligent woman. My mother is the Superior Empress, so many doctors feared delivering her children because any complication would be their fault. But Empress Liam didn't think twice when they called for her." Ziteng laughed softly, remembering that Ming was the son of the only woman his mother truly respected.
"My mother actually defeated His Majesty in a game of Go—can you believe it?" Ming laughed. "She says that is when he fell in love. And he fell for the Superior Empress when he saw her using a bow. I suppose our father simply likes talented Yin-xus."
Fhao felt a strangely familiar and sweet atmosphere between the two brothers. It was a rare scene. Ziteng was usually highly courted, seen as a social jewel, while Ming preferred his books and rarely spoke to strangers. Now, Fhao was flooded by the sweet scents of these young princes; both were beautiful in their own way, with vastly different temperaments. In that brief moment of peace, Fhao even considered whether he should marry both of them. Both were handsome, talented, and powerful. But how would he prevent them from hating each other for sharing a husband?
While Fhao was lost in his reflections and the brothers updated each other on palace news, a eunuch requested permission to enter. He announced that the Emperor was having tea nearby and wished for them to join him. Fhao's heart sank slightly; he had hoped the Emperor had grown tired of trying to push him toward Ming.
He was very wrong.
The Emperor's tent was far more opulent. The sons bowed gracefully, followed by Fhao, who felt anxious as he sat beside the Emperor. The sovereign smiled at them like a mischievous child.
"My dear princes, it is good to see that the friendship between my two beloved sons is maintained," the Emperor said in a fatherly tone. "I hope you are not torturing our visitor with scholarly conversations. You have always been the most intelligent Yin-xus in the imperial city."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. We were just talking; Prince Fhao is very pleasant company," Ziteng replied with a sweet smile.
"Ziteng, you are more like your mother every day," the Emperor remarked. "She would say the same thing with that exact same smile." He then looked to his left at Fhao, who was avoiding his gaze, preferring to look at the beautiful young men in front of him. When Fhao noticed the Emperor watching, he stared back with a disguised sense of embarrassment.
"Your sons are excellent hosts, Your Majesty," Fhao complemented. "They are pleasant company."
"Well, as you know, I was a very good friend of Fhao's father," the Emperor began, his gaze turning mischievous. "And I was instructed to help him become Khan. His father asked me to give one of my sweet Yin-xu in marriage to his tribe; he said you need the Yin, the balance, to take care of your people. I will give you a week to choose between my two favorites: Ming, my Prince of Jade, or Ziteng, the Prince of Ruby. Both are rare jewels of my palace. None of the others possess such elegance, intelligence, and skill. Choose wisely, young Fhao."
The three young men were speechless. Ziteng and Ming looked at each other in shock while Fhao nearly choked on his tea. The two imperial princes flushed crimson—not with outrage, for they both liked Fhao, but with the weight of the decision. Meanwhile, the Emperor seemed to delight in the chaos he had sparked, knowing well that none of the three would sleep soundly that night.