The mornings at the Prince's Mansion are awakened by the sweet aroma of croton cakes. As the first rays of morning light filter through the carved window lattices, the croton wind chimes on the veranda jingle, shaking the slumbering mansion awake. Shen Weiwan sits at her dressing table, using a silver hairpin to pick up a freshly baked croton cake. As the pastry crumbles between her teeth, the crumbs scatter onto the open rosewood account book. Inside the account book lies a sheet of yellowed rice paper, upon which, written in cinnabar ink, are the words: "Ten pounds of premium croton powder, specially supplied to His Highness the Seventh Prince for his 'physical strengthening'"—a private note she had slipped into the purchase order the previous night while Xiao Yu slept soundly. Now, illuminated by the morning light, it shines brightly, like a candied hawthorn hidden within the pages of a book.
"Miss! No, Princess!" Chuntao rushed in, clutching a roll of bright yellow silk. The croton flower string in her hair dazzled, and her shoes were stained with light brown stains from the croton powder she'd been grinding this morning. "The historian from the Hanlin Academy sent over the 'Da Sheng Daily Records,' and said... they wanted you to review them!"
Chen Weiwan's hand, pinching the pastry, suddenly paused. The fine croton powder clinging to her eyelashes fluttered off as she blinked, forming a small cloud of powder on the dressing table. "Remember me?" she raised an eyebrow, the croton flower pendant on her silver hairpin gleaming with a tiny silver glint. "Could it be another story about how His Majesty caught me drawing a turtle with croton powder in the Imperial Garden?" She snatched the silk cloth and unfolded it. Written in neat small characters on the plain white rice paper were the following: "Seventh Prince's Consort Shen, intelligent and adept at devious schemes, has harmed countless villains. People of her time called her the 'Saint of Sand Sculpture'..."
"Puff—" Chen Weiwan spit a mouthful of pastry onto the account book, instantly blurring the cinnabar writing. "Trick?" She pointed at the two words, her nails still stained with powder stains from yesterday's mixing of croton gum. "That word makes me sound like the mountain king of Black Wind Village!" She slapped the silk cloth on the dressing table, shaking the croton flower scented powder box on the mirror table. "Go! Call that old scholar who nitpicks for words. This princess must have a good talk with him today. What does 'punishing evil and promoting good' mean?"
A light cough was heard from behind the screen. Xiao Yu walked out, teacup in hand. The croton flower pattern embroidered in silver thread on his dark brocade robe appeared and disappeared with his movements. "Madam, are you going to mess with the historian again? You dyed his goatee croton pink just last month, and I'm afraid it hasn't been washed out yet."
"He deserves it!" Chen Weiwan put her hands on her hips, her moon-white skirt sweeping across the potted croton seedlings at her feet. "Who told him to write me as 'cunning' in his diary? This time it's even worse, 'harming the scoundrels'? I was teaching him a lesson! I was saving a fallen liar and bringing him back to the right path!"
Before he finished speaking, the doorman, Zhou Bo, led an elderly man in a gray robe into the room. The historian's hair and beard were all white, save for a suspiciously light brown stain on his chin—a scrap of croton cake he'd accidentally brushed against while passing through the Prince's kitchen this morning. The silk roll he was cradling was still trembling slightly, clearly having heard of Shen Weiwan's reputation.
"Your Highness...your Highness greets Her Highness the Seventh Prince's wife." The historian bowed tremblingly, and half a piece of crushed croton cake rolled out of his sleeve pocket and fell to the blue brick floor, shattering into powder. "Your Highness summoned me here, but it's for the daily records..."
Chen Weiwan pointed at the word "trap" on the silk cloth, her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, but the croton flower hairpin in her hair swayed in a way that made people feel apprehensive. "Master Shi, isn't that a bad word? I trap... I educate those liars. It's clearly for world peace, but how come you write it as 'trap'?"
The historian stroked his powdered beard, his face grimacing. "Your Highness, 'fraud' is a true record... Last month, you used croton powder wrapped in yellow clay to disguise it as a gold ingot, tricking a Southern Chu merchant into drinking your special 'laxative tea'. He then had diarrhea for three days and three nights. This... if this isn't fraud, what is?"
"That's commercial entertainment!" Shen Weiwan stamped her foot, her skirt sweeping across the croton seedlings on the windowsill. "I'll let him experience firsthand the consequences of deception. It's called 'stopping deception with deception'. It's a vivid education! Just like a private school teacher slapping the palm of the hand, it's to make the student remember!"
Xiao Yu stifled a laugh as he handed the historian a steaming cup of croton flower tea, a few dried petals floating in the tea. "Sir Shi, my wife has a straightforward personality. Please bear with her. How about... changing 'harm' to 'correct'? It sounds more elegant."
"No!" Chen Weiwan interrupted and grabbed the cinnabar pen from the dressing table, "We must use 'education'! Just like teaching a scammer to read, we must let the liar know where he is wrong!" She circled the word "harm" with the tip of her pen, and croton powder splashed from the tip of the pen, leaving brown spots on the rice paper.
The historian looked at Shen Weiwan's shining eyes, then glanced at the dried croton powder stains on her skirt. He remembered the miserable scene last week when she blocked him in the history office and forced him to dye his beard with croton powder. He sighed helplessly: "Well...how about changing it to 'uphold justice and educate the scoundrels'?"
"It's barely passable!" Shen Weiwan was finally satisfied and turned to Chuntao and said, "Go and get my newly developed 'Shi Bi Sheng Hua' Croton Cake, so that Lord Shi can have a taste of our Dasheng's 'cultural snack'."
The historian looked at the cakes brought by Chuntao, and saw a crooked smiling face painted with edible gold powder on the snow-white cake, with the corners of the mouth stretched to the ears. He suddenly remembered the embarrassing incident when he accidentally ate cakes with three times the spicy croton powder added, and ran three laps around the history office because of the spiciness. He waved his hands hurriedly: "Your humble servant suddenly remembered... remembered that there is still "History of Croton Cultivation" that has not been completed. Goodbye! Goodbye!" After that, he ran away in panic, and did not even have time to pick up the half piece of croton cake that fell on the ground.
Chen Weiwan looked at the historian's fleeing figure, laughing so hard that the croton flower hairpin in her bun almost fell off: "Look how scared he is, I wouldn't put croton laxatives in the cakes!"
Xiao Yu picked up the diary from the ground and pointed at the entry at the back, feeling both amused and helpless. "Madam, please look at this sentence again: 'Attempted to use fake feces to repel the enemy'. How can this be changed? It can't be written as 'repel the enemy with excrement', right?"
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