The sound of rain nearly drowned out the servant’s voice outside. Yet fragments of conversation still drifted into the carriage, leaving Yan Shang feeling as though he’d been drenched to the bone. He sat quietly against the carriage wall, listening intently to the exchange between the person outside and the princess seated beside him.

Princess Danyang was furious as she demanded, “Wasn’t the Third Scholar position designated by the Ministry of Personnel itself? Why was it suddenly replaced? Who did this?”

The servant replied, “Princess Luling had it changed. The Minister of Personnel didn’t dare defy the Imperial Princess, so he sent the modified list directly to the Central Secretariat. It was only because Your Highness had informed the Crown Prince in advance that he noticed something was wrong when he saw the list and didn’t approve it. But since it was Imperial Princess Luling, the Crown Prince said that as her junior, he should show respect to his elder.”

Muwan anxiously fidgeted with the window lattice, her voice ice-cold: “So who did aunt replace the Third Scholar with?”

The servant answered, “A commoner scholar named Feng Xianyu. This is his fourth year attempting the imperial examinations. He’s gained the Imperial Princess’s favor—Your Highness would do best not to provoke him.”

Having ensured Princess Danyang received the necessary information, the servant bowed and retreated with his umbrella.

With a loud “slam,” Muwan angrily shut the carriage window. Though her carriage remained stationary at the palace gates, none of the mounted guards or serving maids dared ask Her Highness where she wished to go next.

Sharing the carriage, Yan Shang observed that Muwan’s features were contorted with rage, lending her beautiful face a cold and fierce aspect.

Her chest heaving with anger, she swept all the tea cups off the small table inside the carriage. With a heavy thud, the vessels landed on the carriage’s cushions—though they didn’t break, no one moved to retrieve them.

Muwan raged, “Who is this Feng Xianyu? I’ve never even heard of him…”

Yan Shang watched her. “I have heard of him.”

Muwan started, turning to look at him.

Yan Shang explained, “When I first entered the Imperial Academy, the nobles’ sons looked down on me. Feng Xianyu came to my defense. After that, we became friends through various interactions. I came to know him quite well. I hadn’t expected he would gain the Imperial Princess’s favor and receive such an opportunity.”

Muwan was speechless.

She asked incredulously, “You say he’s your friend? Would a friend steal something that rightfully belonged to you? I know my aunt better than you do—she doesn’t play politics, she just likes keeping pretty young men. Your friend gained my aunt’s favor—besides selling himself, what other path do you think he could have taken?”

“Do you think all princesses are as reasonable as I am?”

Yan Shang looked at her in silence.

After venting for a while, Muwan was still seething. She continued cursing her aunt, but when she looked over, she saw Yan Shang sitting opposite her, cold and detached, neither angry nor consoling, just listening to her rage.

Muwan glared at him. “Your scholarly achievement was snatched away, and you do not react? Nothing to say?”

Muwan’s eyes were like ice: “Unless you ask, I will never intervene on anyone’s behalf.”

Yan Shang remained silent.

Finally, just as Muwan was about to direct her fury at him, he spoke slowly: “Now that things have come to this point, what does Your Highness think I could say?”

Muwan froze.

Yan Shang looked at her. “Should I encourage Your Highness to speak up for me? Would you? Would you offend the Imperial Princess and make an enemy of her for my sake? I’m just a commoner—should I act heartbroken and beg Your Highness to confront the Imperial Princess on my behalf?”

Outside, rain drummed against the windows. As his calm eyes fixed upon her, Muwan’s heart suddenly contracted, leaving her stunned.

Her rage subsided somewhat.

Yes.

What was Yan Shang, after all?

Just a country bumpkin she had met in Lingnan.

She had been moved by him briefly, but both she and Yan Shang knew it was merely due to the atmosphere, amounting to nothing real.

After leaving Lingnan, she had turned her back on him, and he never mentioned the past. They maintained an unspoken understanding, neither wanting to break it.

Muwan herself was already neck-deep in troubles—how could she stick her neck out for a commoner she’d known for mere days? Perhaps she appreciated Yan Shang in some way… but in the face of power, such appreciation meant nothing.

Thinking of this, Muwan lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling awkward.

Feeling both embarrassed and frustrated, she said, “I thought you would at least show some hurt.”

After a moment of silence, Yan Shang replied, “I’d rather not let such emotions sway Your Highness.”

Muwan kept her eyes down as he suddenly stood up. Their clothes brushed lightly in the confined space of the carriage. As he rose, Muwan caught another whiff of the elegant chen xiang incense he wore… As the door opened, fine threads of rain drifted in through the window.

Muwan looked up to see Yan Shang preparing to exit the carriage.

She couldn’t help calling out: “Yan Shang!”

Yan Shang turned back to look at her.

Muwan fell silent for a moment. Their eyes met, and tense, suppressed emotions flowed between their gazes. Like a volcano beneath an ice mountain, they struggled desperately to keep it from erupting.

Muwan spoke slowly: “How do you know I wouldn’t confront the Imperial Princess and demand an explanation for you?”

Yan Shang replied: “Even if Your Highness intended to do so, I would have to stop you.”

Muwan looked at him in surprise.

He smiled faintly, his voice gentle: “Has Your Highness considered? The Crown Prince had someone wait here to tell you about tomorrow’s examination list and today’s changed position because he wants you to step forward, wants you to fight with the Imperial Princess. I don’t know what internal matters you seek to gain, but you’re being pushed out by the Crown Prince to help him.”

“If Your Highness confronts the Imperial Princess, given your strong personality—and you do have a strong personality—you and the Imperial Princess will fight to the death. With this year’s examination scandal, the Ministry of Personnel cannot escape responsibility. When the matter reaches His Majesty, perhaps you and the Imperial Princess will both be punished equally, perhaps both Feng Xianyu and I will be accepted—but what does the Crown Prince gain from this?”

Muwan followed his reasoning.

She knew far more of the inside story than he did. With Yan Shang’s hint, Muwan realized: “…Perhaps the Crown Prince’s goal is to wrestle control of the Ministry of Personnel from my third brother. Yes, though the Crown Prince’s power is already great, the authority to select officials remains in Prince Qin’s hands, and the Crown Prince has never accepted this. These past few months, the Crown Prince has been testing my third brother.”

She spoke with increasing fluency and certainty: “In the end, perhaps the Imperial Princess and I will both lose, while the Crown Prince alone wins.”

Yan Shang nodded silently.

Muwan asked: “But what does this have to do with you? If I spoke up for you, you could regain what was rightfully yours—why would you stop me?”

Yan Shang had already stepped down from the carriage.

Beside him, Chunhua thoughtfully held up an umbrella for him as he stood in the rain, bowing to the princess’s carriage: “Because I cannot bear the weight of Your Highness’s great favor in speaking up for me.”

He looked up through the rain, his robes already dampened: “I can still repay Your Highness’s kindness in recommending my examination paper. But how could I ever repay the debt of Your Highness offending the Imperial Princess on my behalf? Your Highness’s favor would be too great—I would have no choice but to repay it with my life, there would be no other way.”

Muwan remained silent.

There was another way to repay the debt.

Just as Feng Xianyu had offered himself to Imperial Princess Luling, Yan Shang could offer himself in return.

But Yan Shang’s words made it clear he wasn’t that kind of person. Such an enormous debt made him retreat—he wasn’t even willing to repay it with his life… let alone anything else.

Muwan wiped away all expression.

She sat motionless in the carriage, finding even looking at him one more time distasteful.

She closed her eyes and snapped: “Get out!”

The carriage door closed—

Chunhua sympathetically handed her umbrella to Yan Shang, watching as he trudged through the rain, step by step, back toward Yongshou Temple.

The young gentleman’s figure was lonely, his robes sodden, looking quite pitiful.

Chunhua sighed, her heart filling with confusion.

Young Liu was like this, Second Young Master Yan was like this, and Feng Xianyu betrayed Yan Shang for an official position… Was the path upward truly so difficult?

Yan Shang didn’t return to Yongshou Temple until the afternoon. He had fallen once in the mud along the way, and by the time he reached his quarters, he was thoroughly disheveled.

Looking down at his soiled clothes, Yan Shang sighed.

After changing into fresh clothes and sitting at his desk, he stared blankly for a long while before rubbing his face, trying to calm himself down.

He spread out calligraphy paper on his desk and began practicing characters as a way to cultivate his mind and temperament. After coming to Chang’an, he had learned this method from Wei Qilang.

The sons of noble families all had excellent calligraphy. Wei Qilang told him there was no other way to achieve good handwriting except daily practice. Though commoners envied the noble sons, it was true that in matters of scholarship, the aristocratic youth walked a longer path.

Since then, Yan Shang practiced calligraphy every day. Even when his mood was poor, he would open his paper and practice.

Now, after dipping his brush in thick ink and writing several sheets of large characters, Yan Shang’s emotions finally began to settle, allowing him to think things through.

He spread out a fresh sheet of paper and, after a long silence, wrote the three characters for “Feng Xianyu.”

Then he began to write about the Feng Xianyu he knew—what kind of person he was, his ancestral home, his family background, how long he’d been in Chang’an, his usual temperament, who he associated with… If Feng Xianyu himself were present, he would have been terrified.

For Yan Shang was analyzing him, and with frightening accuracy.

After filling an entire sheet with Feng Xianyu’s life story, Yan Shang laid out another sheet and began writing about the friends he’d made since arriving in Chang’an. Those he’d met directly, those through his teachers, those through his fellow students… The relationship network he mapped out was somewhat terrifying.

For within its twists and turns, there seemed to be ways to connect with the Imperial Princess, or with other people of high rank and power.

If others were to see this, they would never have imagined that Yan Shang had made so many friends in just over a month since arriving in Chang’an.

His skill at making friends was no mere talk. During the previous fortnight, when Muwan had mockingly called him a “busy man,” it was because he hadn’t focused solely on Princess Danyang’s residence.

He had too many friends; he needed to manage them all.

Now with this network laid out before him, Yan Shang threw down his brush and stared at the paper filled with names, feeling somewhat dejected.

His starting point was too low, the time too short—even though he had made so many friends, none could help at this moment.

Yan Shang crumpled all the papers into a ball and set them aside.

Leaning against the antique shelf, he tiredly covered his face with his sleeve and closed his eyes to rest.

He couldn’t help imagining that if all his friends were at Princess Danyang’s level, it would be much easier to simplify this matter…—

Muwan returned to her palace in a fury, spending another afternoon in rage.

Perhaps due to her bad mood, or perhaps due to utter dejection, she went to bed as soon as night fell.

Indignant and feeling humiliated by the Imperial Princess, Muwan had suppressed her anger all day, thinking sleep might make her feel better. But she dreamed of something that had happened during her two years of political marriage—

“Husband! Husband!” Between the tents of the Wuman tribal court, the young Princess of Great Wei stumbled as she chased after a tall man who showed great impatience.

She fell to the ground, and the Wuman people around merely watched her with mocking eyes, though some showed pity.

The sixteen-year-old Muwan sat fallen on the ground, looking up to see the Wuman king hesitate in his steps. She seized this opportunity, grabbing the man’s sleeve, and pleading: “Rong Hua has been my maid since childhood! Husband, please return her to me. I—I can help you find other beauties…”

The Wuman king, in his thirties or forties, was tall and mighty, covered in tattoos, as majestic as a lion. He turned back to look at his naive wife with amusement, saying: “This king only wants one of your maids, and you want to exchange? After all the exchanges, it would still be the same person, wouldn’t it?”

He said perfunctorily: “Tomorrow this king will send your maid back.”

Muwan froze.

In the distance, two burly Wuman men dragged away the young and beautiful maid, who struggled and cried: “Your Highness, save me—”

Muwan gathered her courage and pleaded again: “No. Husband, please return her. Tomorrow won’t do—half an hour, just give me half an hour…”

She begged desperately, her robes dragging black stains across the ground.

Before her political marriage, she had been just a delicate little princess. After the marriage, she was nothing more than a puppet to be manipulated.

She was too weak; she could never prevail against the harsh Wuman king… but she couldn’t abandon her maid!

She really couldn’t!

Everyone around was watching the spectacle, making it unbearably shameful. The young princess kneeling on the ground suddenly drew a dagger from her sleeve, swinging it at the somewhat surprised Wuman king…

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

She’d had enough! She wanted to kill this husband! But she was too weak, and with all her strength she only managed to wound his arm. Afterward, she was locked away, and aside from food, the Wuman people said the king was furious and would never forgive her.

“Let me out! Let me out!” Muwan cried, beating at the door.

Two days later, the Wuman king’s eldest son Meng Zai Shi opened a small crack in the window, speaking to her with some sympathy: “Your maid is already dead. Stop crying, it’s useless.”

Meng Zai Shi sighed: “Princess, you are too weak. If you cannot become stronger, everyone around you will disappear like this.”

The young woman sat against the wall, hugging her knees, looking up with vacant eyes at the young Wuman prince speaking to her through the window crack. Her hair disheveled, covered in dirt, her mind only repeated the youth’s sympathetic words—

“Your maid is already dead.”

Others had died before, and others would die after. But only Rong Hua’s death made Muwan collapse instantly, made her wonder what she had done wrong, why she couldn’t even protect those close to her…

A princess of Great Wei should have been high above others; it shouldn’t have mattered if she was weak, as others would protect her. But among the Wuman, these barbarians paid her no mind at all… Their humiliation and torment continued day after day, year after year…

Meng Zai Shi’s voice sounded again: “You must become stronger.”

Through the window, he whistled and reached out his hand, with an ambiguous smile: “How about it, Princess? Will you cooperate with me?”—

Muwan suddenly awoke from her dream, opening her eyes to find her heart still pounding violently, her entire face burning hot.

Clutching her heart, her brow suddenly furrowed as she made a decision.

Muwan got out of bed barefoot, calling to her maid outside: “Come with me to the Imperial Princess’s palace! I cannot let this matter rest!”

“She can fight for her young Feng, but she cannot touch my people!”

The palace lanterns gradually lit up, as the maid Chunhua and guard Fang Tong and others arose. Chunhua served the princess, and knowing the princess was going to confront the Imperial Princess, she couldn’t help feeling scared. When the princess called her into the chamber, she hurriedly instructed Fang Tong to prevent the princess from doing anything rash—

At Yongshou Temple, the rain had pushed the window slightly open, its curtain drifting into the room, awakening Yan Shang who had been dozing at his desk.

Yan Shang rubbed his forehead and got up to close the window. His hand rested on the window frame when he suddenly froze, seeing Guard Fang approaching through the cold, rainy night.

The two men looked at each other through the window.

Fang Tong bowed anxiously: “Second Young Master Yan, this matter started because of you—you cannot stand idly by! Our princess is going to confront the Imperial Princess for your sake… There are still several hours until dawn; she wants to have the position changed back!”

There was a shock in Yan Shang’s eyes.

Fang Tong called out: “Second Young Master Yan? You wouldn’t let our princess offend someone she shouldn’t offend for your sake, would you?”

Yan Shang came to his senses and hurriedly replied: “Of course not!”

Fang Tong sighed in relief as Yan Shang opened the door: “Guard Fang, did you come by horse? Let me borrow it!”—

The night rain rustled.

The lanterns hanging from the carriage swayed in the rain curtain, their heavy flames silent in the night, with only the sound of carriage wheels creaking.

When the carriage arrived outside the Imperial Princess Luling’s palace, Chunhua held an umbrella as Muwan, dressed in formal attire, stepped down from the carriage and stood outside, looking up at this residence she rarely visited. The guards at the palace gate also looked puzzled at Princess Danyang’s arrival, not knowing why she had come in the deep of night.

Her expression was cold as she took a deep breath and raised her foot to climb the steps. From behind in the heavy mist and rain came the violent sound of horse hooves striking the ground, and a clear, urgent voice called out while bent over the horse—

“Your Highness!”

Muwan paid no attention to irrelevant matters. While Chunhua turned to look, she merely lifted her skirts to climb the steps.

Just as she was about to have the guards announce her arrival, a hand reached out from behind and grabbed Muwan’s wrist. Because the person behind her used such force, and because Muwan was standing on the steps, she stumbled, pulled around by the person behind her.

Her nose bumped against the young man’s damp chest.

His heart was beating fiercely, and as she swayed about to fall, he caught her shoulders.

On that single step, the two appeared to be embracing before the Imperial Princess’s gate.

Muwan stood on the step, meeting Yan Shang’s quiet yet relieved eyes. His gaze was complex, confused, and contained something like unfamiliarity as he studied her.

And there were some scattered sparks, gradually brightening in his eyes.

In the night rain, he held her shoulders and slowly bent down.

He pressed close to her ear and said softly: “I know what you want to do. I have a better way—come with me.”