The First Jasmine (莫离) – the title itself whispers of loyalty and betrayal. But what really happened eight years ago at the Prince Ding’s (定) mansion? Why did a young emperor secretly bring back a disgraced, crippled prince named Mo Xiuyao (墨修尧)? And where does Ye Li (叶璃) fit into this puzzle of blood and power? The answers lie not in official announcements, but in a forgotten imperial edict, a poisonous perfume, and a queen who wanted a throne. Let’s tear apart the lies and rebuild the truth.
The Official Lie
The imperial court told the people a neat story. Prince Ding, Mo Xiuwen (墨修文), returned to the capital without permission. While he marched his elite Hei Yun Qi (黑云骑) inside the gates, the northern Bei Cang (北苍) enemy slipped through and seized three cities. The punishment was swift and brutal: execution for Mo Xiuwen and his riders. His younger brother, Mo Xiuyao, was dragged back in chains from the Huaguo Gong’s (华国公) frontier army, waiting for trial. The official record says Mo Xiuwen claimed he had the late emperor’s secret summons – but he could not produce it. A convenient excuse for treason, they called it.
But a man does not die for a lie he cannot prove unless someone ensured the proof never saw daylight. Mo Xiuwen was not a fool. He was a military commander who knew the risk of marching without orders. So why did he take that risk? Because the summons was real. Yet, when the moment came, the document had vanished – stolen by hands inside the palace. That single missing scroll turned a loyal prince into a traitor. And who benefited most? Look not at the young emperor, but at the woman behind the throne.
Queen Guo Jin (郭妗), now the Empress Dowager, had everything to gain. With Mo Xiuwen dead, her grip on the boy emperor Mo Jingqi (墨景祁) tightened. With Mo Xiuyao crippled and humiliated, the last military threat to her ambition crumbled. The official lie served one purpose: to hide her hand. But lies have cracks. And eight years later, a desperate young ruler began to pick at them.
The Real Dagger
Here is what the history books would never write. The Prince Ding’s mansion true crime was not rebellion – it was excellence. For generations, the Ding princes were military prodigies. They commanded the Mo Family Army, the sharpest spear of the Chu (楚) dynasty, alongside the Hei Yun Qi cavalry. Their fame among soldiers and commoners alike surpassed even the royal family’s. That is a slow poison for any dynasty. The late emperor feared it. But fear alone does not kill. It needs a method.
The late emperor chose Zui Fen Xiang (醉焚香), a rare toxin disguised as a pleasant incense. He used it to murder Mo Xiuyao’s father, Mo Liufang (墨流芳), in his own command tent – a death blamed on illness. Then came the betrayal from within. Su Zuodie (苏醉蝶), Mo Xiuyao’s fiancée, carried a grudge. She had once urged him to compete for the Ding prince title. He refused. So she stole the army’s battle plans from the mansion and handed them to the northern Bei Rong (北戎). That act of petty vengeance led to Mo Xiuwen’s ambush and Mo Xiuyao’s terrible injuries: a shattered spine, a scarred face, and a lingering cold poison that left him bedridden for nearly a decade.
Yet the drama simplifies this. It changes names and shuffles motives. But the core remains: the Ding mansion was not destroyed by an external enemy. It was destroyed by royal jealousy and a woman’s rage. And the young emperor Mo Jingqi knows more than he lets on. Why else would he secretly reach out to a man the Empress Dowager has spent eight years breaking – forcing him to copy scriptures daily and whipping him monthly in the name of “atonement”?
The Emperor’s Gambit
Look at Mo Jingqi. He sits on the dragon throne, but he does not rule. The Empress Dowager’s faction, led by the Muyang Hou (穆阳候), controls the court. Every time the young emperor tried to act, her hand slapped his down. So he did something desperate: he resurrected a dead man. Not literally, but politically. He ordered Mo Xiuyao, still crippled and scarred, to escort a key witness – a man carrying evidence against the Muyang Hou – safely to the capital. It was a dangerous provocation wrapped in a simple mission.
Why Mo Xiuyao? Because he is the one person the Empress Dowager truly fears. She tried to have him executed after the Ding mansion fell. Only the pleas of ministers like Huaguo Gong saved his life. But she never stopped tormenting him. She assigned her spy, Lü Cheng (吕澄), to guard him – locking him in a room to copy texts, and every month, under the guise of a ritual, she had him whipped. It was not justice. It was sadism. And sadism hides fear. She fears what he knows.
Mo Xiuyao once said that after his shackled convoy reached the capital, the Muyang Hou’s faction demanded his entire clan’s execution. What crime had he committed? None. He was merely the brother of a man who answered a real summons. That is the clue. The Empress Dowager wanted the Ding bloodline erased because Mo Xiuwen’s return had ruined her plan – a plan to seize the throne for herself. Years earlier, when she tried to declare herself emperor, the Lishan Academy (离山书院) shut its gates and protested, stopping her. She then sealed off the mountain and purged its officials. The pattern is clear: anyone who blocks her path gets destroyed. The Ding mansion blocked her path. Mo Xiuyao is the last survivor. And the young emperor just handed him a sword.
