Donggong (东宫), the Crown Prince’s residence, is not a place for sentiment. It is a machine of state, calibrated for survival. Yet in the sprawling narrative of Blossoms of Power (百花杀) , the Crown Prince’s final actions towards Princess Bu of Shunan (蜀南) have sparked a fierce debate among viewers. In the television adaptation, his decision to clear every obstacle for her return and assign his trusted aide, Cui Jinbai (崔晋百), to be her midwife, is framed as a grand, romantic gesture for Shen Xihe (沈汐和). It is a move to please his beloved, to unite her with her friend. But is this truly the act of a future emperor? Or is there a colder, more calculating logic at play that reveals a deeper, more terrifying form of devotion?
The Long Road of Trials
To understand the prince’s mind, one must look not at the revised screen version, but at the original novel’s blueprint of his strategy. In the book, Princess Bu’s (步) journey back to Shunan was anything but a secret. It was a public spectacle, a necessary tragedy. She was pregnant, vulnerable, and racing home to bury her father, the King of Shunan, and claim his title. The emperor and his rival princes saw this as their chance to eliminate a powerful regional threat. They dispatched assassins in waves. Even though she left a day early and employed multiple decoys, she was hunted relentlessly.
Her pursuers found her because Xiao Changmin (萧长旻), the Prince of Ning (宁), had placed a poisonous gu (蛊) worm in her most trusted guard. Disguised as a common woman, her pregnancy made her an easy target. After brutal skirmishes, she was cornered in a cave, bleeding and beaten, certain of her death. But when she awoke, it was to the face of Cui Jinbai. It wasn’t a rescue by the prince’s guards, but a carefully orchestrated intervention. The prince had not only anticipated the attacks; he had relied on them to break her.
This was the first act of the prince’s design: to force the princess to the very edge of despair. He needed her to understand that her status, her power, and even her friendship with Shen Xihe meant nothing in the face of the central court’s power. He let the predators close in, not to test her strength, but to test her desperation. He was a chess player who allowed the opponent to capture his pieces to see how his king would move. The ambushes were not a problem to be solved for her comfort; they were a crucible for her soul.
The Price of a Single Choice
In that cave, a pivotal shift occurred. The princess’s loyal double, Shen Shijiu (沈一十九), found her first. Seeing the dire state of her mistress, he was ready to fight to the death. But the princess, in a moment of profound clarity, gave him her most precious possession: the young lord’s token of the Bu family, the symbol of supreme military command in Shunan. She ordered him to leave her. By doing so, she was effectively willing to abandon her inheritance to save him.
This was the moment the prince had been waiting for. His men materialized the instant Shen Shijiu departed. They didn’t just rescue her; they offered a transaction disguised as a choice. The first choice was to continue to Shunan and claim her birthright, a path that would lead to a lifetime of adversarial conflict with the court, inevitably ending in the stripping of her titles. The second choice was to accept a secret, comfortable exile to give birth, with the Donggong becoming her powerful guardian.
She chose the second. She chose life and safety over a hollow title. With that decision, the prince’s plan clicked into place. Cui Jinbai was sent to her, ostensibly to “investigate a case,” but truly to guard her in her confinement. Meanwhile, Shen Shijiu took the token and marched back to the Shunan palace, becoming its new king. In one fell swoop, the prince had removed a potential rival, eliminated a future threat, and seamlessly transferred all of Shunan’s military might into the hands of his beloved, Shen Xihe. The entire terrifying journey was a necessary cost of this acquisition.
Calculus of a Cold-Hearted Prince
This is the reality of the original text. The prince is not a romantic hero; he is a politician. The argument that he acted to make Shen Xihe happy is a weak one for a character so deeply enmeshed in power. The prince’s true affection is in building a fortress for her, not in securing a comfortable ride for her friend. He knew that Shen Xihe would eventually need Shunan’s loyalty not as a personal gift, but as a political anchor. He transformed a potential wildcard into a guaranteed asset for his empress.
The prince’s cruelty was surgical. He exposed the princess to lethal danger to prove that her survival was not a right of friendship, but a gift of his imperial favor. He forced her to shed her pride so she would be a grateful vassal. This makes his love for Shen Xihe more profound than any act of simple chivalry. He is spending his last resources—time, men, and strategic advantage—to ensure that when he is gone, Shen Xihe will not be alone. He is setting the board for her, ensuring every piece on the board, from Cui Jinbai to the new King of Shunan, will serve her interests.
In the world of Blossoms of Power, the throne is a lonely place. The prince’s actions reflect a harsh truth: in the fight for power, private feelings are a vulnerability. By understanding this, we see that his refusal to simply save the princess for Shen Xihe’s sake is the ultimate act of devotion. He chooses to be the iron fist she needs rather than the gentle hand she might want. Was it cold? Yes. Was it strategic? Absolutely. And in the bloody game of thrones, that cold strategy is the warmest protection he could possibly offer. It’s not about pleasing her today; it’s about securing her tomorrow.