Although, given how unreliable her mother consort was, her confidante might not be much better. But James Johnson had no one else to rely on at the moment, so she could only count on Ethan Brooks to gather information.

Ethan Brooks first placed the gilded orb back onto the bronze tray, then spoke softly, “This servant has inquired—these days, the palace is indeed searching for spies. Those with questionable backgrounds, those not of our clan, have all been taken away for questioning. None of them have returned yet.”

In fact, this matter had already caused panic throughout the palace, and Ethan Brooks had known for some time. But she deliberately waited a day before reporting it, not wanting to leave Her Highness with the impression that she was a gossip who knew everything.

“What about over at Changyang Palace? Has it been affected?” James Johnson asked again.

“Of course it has. The Dashis are Tartars, and there was that incident before—how many in her palace have truly clean backgrounds?”

“I thought, since she’s favored and powerful, no one would dare investigate her.” James Johnson said in surprise.

“She’s only temporarily in charge of the six palaces. Once the Empress returns, her true colors will show.” Ethan Brooks glanced at James Johnson, as if seeing the shadow of Mr. Johnson, and couldn’t help but tremble as she spoke, “Besides, with His Majesty ordering a thorough investigation, who would dare, unless they have a death wish, to cover up for her?”

“Mm, that makes sense.” James Johnson nodded. Indeed, who in the palace would dare fool Mr. Johnson?

With the intelligence gathering almost done, the next step was to formulate an action plan.

James Johnson stopped talking and lay on the bed, silently pondering.

There were two options now: one was to go to her eldest brother or the Emperor to report the case.

Although Benjamin Lee claimed he hadn’t seen anything and no other witnesses had been found.

But Seventh Brother was just a ten-year-old brat—scare him a little, and he’d surely tell the truth.

But the problem was, even if Seventh Brother confessed, so what? A tiger, no matter how fierce, won’t eat its own cubs. The Emperor would never lay a deadly hand on his ten-year-old son. In fact, he’d most likely downplay the matter, turning a big issue into a small one, and a small one into nothing, so that Seventh Brother wouldn’t be saddled with the crime of murdering his brother!

The reason was simple—he’s still a child… What evil intentions could a little kid have…

At most, he’d get a spanking and be confined for a while, right?

Maybe they’d even turn around and urge me to be magnanimous, not to hold a grudge against my own brother.

For James Johnson, that would be even more unbearable than swallowing ten thousand flies.

Damn it, I—oh no, this prince is not magnanimous at all! I’m already a prince, and you still want me to be magnanimous? Pah!

If a prince still has to swallow his anger and put the bigger picture first, then what’s the point of being a prince?!

Besides, that might not even save my mother consort.

Because if it gets to the Emperor, it would mean a total falling out with Consort Dading. She would definitely hold on and refuse to admit anything, and might even try to harm my mother consort.

Hurting others is one thing, but the key is it wouldn’t benefit me. So, this plan isn’t really feasible.

That leaves only the other option…

Chapter Six: The Other Option

“Get up! The days of sleeping in are over!”

At the fifth watch, just as James Johnson was dreaming of gnawing on a pork knuckle, someone yanked her out of bed.

“How dare you! Who dares to manhandle this prince…” Prince of Chu forced open her sleepy eyes, flailing her arms and legs, acting fierce but still childish.

She saw her fourth brother Edward Johnson’s gloating face. Prince of Yan was incredibly strong, easily lifting her chubby self without effort.

“Hey, Edward Johnson…” James Johnson gave a sweet smile, raised her chubby right fist, and then stuck up her middle finger.

“Call me Fourth Brother! Show some respect!” Edward Johnson smacked her plump bottom.

“Stop fooling around, you two.” Crown Prince Mark watched the squabbling siblings with a smile. “Hurry up and get dressed.”

“Big Brother’s here too?” James Johnson was a bit surprised. Was the Crown Prince this free?

“If I didn’t come to wake you, would you two obediently go to school?” Mark Johnson said, exasperated.

“Dragging me into this again…” Edward Johnson twitched his mouth. Clearly, Mark Johnson had gone to his place first.

The palace attendants hurried forward to wash Prince of Chu’s face, comb her hair, and help her dress.

Prince of Yan wanted to help too, but mainly to flick her little you-know-what. Naturally, the Crown Prince wouldn’t let him succeed, pulling Edward Johnson away to have breakfast first.

The dynasty was newly founded, wars were frequent, and the people were exhausted, so everything had to be done frugally.

And Mr. Johnson was probably the thriftiest emperor in history—he only ate two meals a day, with nothing but the standard fare, never any rare delicacies. Breakfast was just vegetables and noodles, plus a dish of tofu, to remind himself not to forget his roots.

His wife followed his example. Empress Ma also lived simply, always tending the vegetables and cooking herself, never finding it a hardship.

With the example set at the top, the whole palace naturally practiced thrift. Breakfast was just ordinary baked flatbread, wontons, vegetable buns, and thin porridge—a far cry from the extravagant spreads of later royal families.

Fortunately, Mark Johnson and the others had all grown up amid war, so this was nothing new to them, and they didn’t feel deprived.

As for James Johnson, she had even less to complain about. If nothing else, this was at least the standard of a moderately wealthy landlord’s household—much better than what she used to eat.

After quickly finishing breakfast, the four siblings left Wan’an Gate and headed toward the main hall.

By now, the eastern sky was turning pale; dawn was just breaking.

Edward Johnson sometimes walked ahead, sometimes lagged behind, gesticulating wildly and chattering non-stop, never still for a moment.

Mark Johnson could only smile wryly at his adolescent brother, wondering when he would finally settle down.