The tumultuous, gentle breeze lingered at the mouth of the abyss, making it her resting place, yet she indeed warmed the lonely cold beneath the abyss where no daylight reached.

Wenren Lin couldn’t tell who was luckier than whom. They had met each other and treasured each other like precious jewels.

His thick, long eyebrows and eyes displayed a hint of gentle warmth in the orange light created by the interweaving sunset and lantern shadows. His voice seemed to contain suppressed laughter, exceptionally deep: “If the Crown Prince knew that Your Highness had used his luck to meet such a black-hearted scoundrel, he would probably leap out from the underworld and curse three hundred times.”

Zhao Yan was amused by his self-mockery.

“When we first met, you were indeed somewhat of a scoundrel.”

She examined him and said with a straight face, very seriously, “But rest assured, Zhao Yan had a good temper; he never cursed people.”

Thinking of something, her voice softened slightly: “He was a pushover without a temper.”

Wenren Lin said nothing, bending down to scoop her up at the knees.

With her body suddenly in the air, Zhao Yan instinctively clutched Wenren Lin’s collar. “What are you doing?”

“Your Highness has been standing and fighting all day—do you still want these knees?”

…

…

“They do hurt a bit, but I can bear it. I’m not that fragile.”

Zhao Yan looked around and reminded him, “I’m still awaiting pardon; this doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Whether Your Highness is fragile or not is one thing. This subject’s hands are just itching to carry Your Highness.”

Reaching the carriage by the palace wall, Wenren Lin stopped and tightened his arms. “Don’t move; there’s no one else here.”

Zhao Yan truly couldn’t stand hearing him refer to himself as “this subject”—so powerful and arrogant, yet so devout and passionate.

This moment was a peace they had stolen amid the undercurrents.

The carriage curtains were tightly drawn, not letting in a hint of cold wind. Zhao Yan leaned back, supporting herself with her hands on the seat, watching as Wenren Lin rolled up her inner trousers to reveal her knee, still bruised.

He gently placed one of Zhao Yan’s legs on his knee, warmed medicinal oil in his palm, then spread it over her knee. Initially, there was a needle-like pain, and Zhao Yan hissed, biting her lip and shrinking back in a rather pitiful manner.

Wenren Lin glanced at her without speaking, but bent down and blew softly on the wound on her knee.

Whether it was the overwhelming scent of the medicinal oil or something else, Zhao Yan suddenly felt a heat in her nose. She was no longer a child, yet she still craved the feeling of being cherished.

Before Wenren Lin could raise his head to continue, she hurriedly turned her face away, taking a light breath to compose herself, and said in a slightly hoarse but cheerful tone: “I want to return to the Eastern Palace.”

Wenren Lin didn’t ask why, but simply lifted the curtain to give instructions outside, then wiped his hands clean and took out the soft silk knee protectors he had prepared earlier, carefully covering Zhao Yan’s newly treated knees.

Outside the small gate of the Eastern Palace, Gu Xing and Li Fu came forward to greet them. Seeing Zhao Yan restored to girlish attire, both seemed to have words they couldn’t express.

“This servant Gu Xing pays respects to Your Highness.”

Gu Xing’s Adam’s apple moved several times before he finally knelt and cupped his fists in salute.

Zhao Yan extended her hand to help him up, but her knees hurt, so she had to grasp Wenren Lin’s arm and say: “I am now bearing the burden of guilt; there’s no need for such formality.”

Gu Xing held the sword with a floral scabbard that Zhao Yan had given him at Yuquan Palace, lowering his head solemnly: “For the grace of recognition, I should return it by weaving grass and carrying rings. This servant is willing to follow Your Highness as a slave and attendant, vowing to protect Your Highness to the death.”

“You are the commander of the Eastern Palace Guard. Following me would truly be a waste of your talents and would seem to bury your abilities. When I break free from this imprisonment, if there’s still a chance, I will personally come to invite Commander Gu.”

Zhao Yan placed her palm on his sword, indicating he should rise. Then she looked at Li Fu, who was kneeling with his head bowed in greeting. “You rise as well. I’ve come tonight to retrieve two old items. Given my current status, it’s not convenient for me to enter the Eastern Palace, so please fetch them for me.”

Li Fu soon returned with the items: a chest of books and a not-too-large silk bundle.

The carriage swayed as it headed toward the capital’s largest lantern market.

Zhao Yan opened the silk bundle resting on her knees. Inside lay the short knife that Zhao Yan had left behind, a half-worn copy of “Ancient and Modern Notes,” with the words “Brushing the Lamp” still bold and powerful on the frontispiece.

Under the book was a long, green sandalwood jewelry box inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

Zhao Yan lightly traced the fine crack on the green sandalwood box with her finger, then gently opened it and took out the brilliantly shining gold hairpin inside, holding it in her palm.

Wenren Lin leaned against the carriage wall, raising a finger to prop up his temple, seeing a similar winding light rising in her eyes.

“A birthday gift from that fool Zhao Yan, and in the blink of an eye, a year and a half has passed. Thinking carefully, it still feels like yesterday.”

Zhao Yan didn’t dwell on her emotions for too long, quickly raising her head to make a request that surprised Wenren Lin.

“Pin it in for me.”

She held the precious gold hairpin before Wenren Lin, her eyes like autumn water reflecting the moon, emanating a clear, transparent glow under the gauze lamp.

Finally, she could wear it openly and honorably.

Wenren Lin sat up straight, taking the gold hairpin that had been crafted by an amateur, and inserted it at an angle in Zhao Yan’s lightly coiled maiden’s bun, carefully adjusting the angle.

He lowered his eyes and said deliberately, “Not bad, the young princess looks truly beautiful.”

“Likewise, the Grand Tutor is equally remarkable.”

Zhao Yan raised her eyebrows, the beauty mark at the corner of her eye complementing the gold hairpin, incomparably charming.

The carriage stopped at the entrance to the lantern market. Zhao Yan removed her snow-white sable fur coat and put on a warmer, looser apricot-colored rabbit fur cloak, hiding her face with a veiled hat.

As she stood up, she pressed the edge of the veiled hat and frowned slightly.

This subtle expression did not escape Wenren Lin’s eyes. He asked: “Is it uncomfortable to wear?”

Zhao Yan nodded, forced to lower her head even more: “The wind is strong at night, and there are many people; wearing this is inconvenient.”

Without hesitation, Wenren Lin removed her veiled hat, leaving only a plain-colored face veil to conceal her features, and held her hand, saying: “Let’s go.”

Once she said it was inconvenient, those superfluous items had no place on her.

Above her face veil, Zhao Yan blinked her eyelashes lightly and hesitantly asked: “Could you also… cover your face a bit?”

It wasn’t for any other reason, but his appearance and bearing were too eye-catching, his figure tall and straight. Walking in the street was like a crane among chickens, and if they encountered someone familiar, it could be troublesome.

Wenren Lin himself didn’t care about such things, but seeing that Zhao Yan seemed quite concerned, he had someone fetch a silver half-mask to cover his face, saying, “This subject obeys.”

He spoke casually. The cool silver mask perfectly conformed to the contours of his eyebrows and nose bridge, revealing a handsome, clean jawline, remarkably harmonizing two contradictory qualities—icy coldness and gentle warmth.

The street market was a flowing river of light, festooned with colorful decorations, like a fairyland. Trees of fire and flowers of silver reflected the steam rising from the night food stalls. Men and women in colorful clothes came and went endlessly, all like fish swimming upstream in orange light, moving through a kaleidoscope of brilliance.

Under the Aoshan lantern ball, colorful paper riddles swayed gently in the wind like hanging ribbons, but Huo Zhenzhen didn’t look very happy.

“I feed you all for nothing if you can’t solve such simple riddles.”

Huo Zhenzhen was bundled up like a snowball, pouting with displeasure. “If the Crown Prince were here, he could solve any number of lantern riddles, and I could have whichever lantern I wanted.”

“Princess, don’t be angry. Whichever one you like, this servant will buy it for you,” a clever maid consoled.

“What’s the point of buying one? Father and Mother are being lovey-dovey again and have left me alone, without even a bit of fun…”

As she spoke, Huo Zhenzhen’s eyes reddened. “We had agreed…”

At the side of the street, Liu Baiwei and several old acquaintances from Mingde Academy were enjoying the lantern festival. They had already passed by, but after thinking for a moment, he bid farewell to his friends and turned back.

Standing under the Aoshan lantern ball, he chose the most beautiful “moon-chasing” lantern, lifted his finger to pull down the riddle paper above it, glanced at it, and promptly gave the answer.

Amid the cheers around him, Liu Baiwei didn’t take the lantern he had won but gave the lantern shop assistant a handful of copper coins, pointing in Huo Zhenzhen’s direction.

The assistant understood and hurriedly brought the lantern over, bowing to the richly dressed young lady and saying, “Happiness for the Lantern Festival. This is a gift from that young gentleman to the noble lady.”

Huo Zhenzhen turned around in surprise, just in time to see Liu Baiwei turning away.

“Hey!”

She called out, holding the lantern and running through the crowd.

Liu Baiwei stopped and raised both hands: “Little Ancestor, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just saw you crying pitifully alone by the street and casually plucked this to give you.”

“I know! You did have intentions, but I’m not interested in you.”

Huo Zhenzhen snorted, her fingers twirling the lantern handle as she said quietly and quickly, “Thank you.”

“What did the Princess say? How rare.”

Liu Baiwei exaggeratedly widened his eyes.

Huo Zhenzhen turned her head away and asked: “Today I saw you lingering at the palace gate for a long time; you wanted to see Zhao Yan, right?”

Liu Baiwei paused, silent for a moment.

“At least the person you want to see can still be seen. The person I want to see, I’ll never see again.”

As Huo Zhenzhen spoke, she gradually revealed a sense of shared sorrow, becoming increasingly angry. “I’ll scold her for you! She promised two months ago to watch the lanterns together, but she’s put herself in this situation and abandoned us all!”

Liu Baiwei instead smiled, a clear-boned, handsome youth, unrestrained and free-spirited: “Although she’s temporarily escaped danger, hidden troubles still exist. She doesn’t see us because she doesn’t want to bring us trouble.”

Who could blame them for not having abilities like that person?

If they could be as powerful as that person, becoming someone everyone feared, then she wouldn’t have to worry so much about them.

Liu Baiwei knew that the only thing he could do now was to look after those scholars for Zhao Yan, not to betray her trust.

On the corridor bridge, Zhao Yan suddenly sneezed, causing her to stumble.

“What’s wrong?” Wenren Lin reached out to steady her.

“My nose itches; perhaps someone is talking about me.”

Zhao Yan held a crystal lantern in her hand, along with some trinkets wrapped in oiled paper. She ate while gazing out at the sea of lanterns across the city.

Wenren Lin wasn’t looking at the lanterns but stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at her face, beautifully illuminated by the lantern light.

“Would Your Highness like to release a wishing lantern?” he asked.

Zhao Yan turned her head to see people everywhere on the pavilion bridge releasing sky lanterns, one after another, like fireflies floating in the ink-black night sky, gradually converging into a twinkling river of stars.

Zhao Yan thought for a moment and, facing the man before her, smiled radiantly: “I wish for a prosperous peace, with no more war or starvation in the world; I wish for the Grand Tutor to be healthy and worry-free, living to a hundred years.”

Wenren Lin was slightly dazed and smiled: “Your Highness is too perfunctory, not releasing a wishing lantern but simply saying it out loud?”

“I know you don’t believe in deities. Rather than pray to heaven, I might as well ask you.”

Zhao Yan placed a slightly sour candied hawthorn in his palm, as solemn as if exchanging some token. “I’m serious. Did you hear my wish for you just now? You must live to a hundred years.”

Wenren Lin looked at the hawthorn candy in his palm and asked: “What’s troubling Your Highness?”

“I just feel… somewhat apologetic toward you.”

Zhao Yan rested her hands on the railing, bending to place her chin on her fingertips as she looked down at the sea of lanterns bright as day. “I don’t know what you said to Father Emperor, but today, from Father Emperor’s few words, I’ve deduced some truth. When Wei Yan interfered and harmed your father and brother’s lives, Father Emperor’s wariness likely played a part, just as he tacitly allowed courtiers to whittle away at his son… Unfortunately, he was too arrogant, immersed in his achievements from his youth and unable to extricate himself, causing many things to spiral out of control and brew disaster.”

Wenren Lin quietly listened to her finish, then said gently: “Your Highness is falling into old habits again.”

“What habits?”

“The habit of taking on others’ guilt.”

Zhao Yan was stunned, speechless.

“Each debt of gratitude has its owner; this prince can distinguish them clearly. If we really must speak of children paying for their fathers’ debts, Your Highness has already paid plenty.”

Wenren Lin’s words were pointed, his tone deep and composed. “By getting involved with someone like this prince.”

Zhao Yan gave him another hawthorn candy. “I just said meeting you was Zhao Yan’s borrowed gambling luck; why are you so quick to contradict?”

He picked up the hawthorn candy and placed it in his mouth, feeling the spreading sourness, and frowned slightly.

It was too sour; he wondered how the little princess could eat it.

Seeing him frown, Zhao Yan glanced at the occasional passersby on the corridor bridge and said to Wenren Lin: “Grand Tutor, come closer.”

Wenren Lin lowered his head at her words, but Zhao Yan was unsatisfied: “Closer still.”

Wenren Lin gave her a dangerous look, but still obeyed, leaning down to get closer, allowing his reflection to be captured in her bright eyes.

Zhao Yan lowered her eyelashes like raven feathers and, through her veil, quickly planted a kiss on the corner of his lips.

After kissing him, Zhao Yan immediately regretted it. She wasn’t adept at intimate gestures under public scrutiny, and just now, as if possessed, seeing his slight frown, she had instinctively wanted to do something to smooth it away…

She backed away a bit, cleared her throat, and turned her gaze away again.

The hawthorn candy was still in his mouth, yet it generated a hint of sweetness. Though they had done more intimate things, he was still stirred by this playful, feather-light kiss that rippled through his heart like spring water.

“Is this also… Your Highness’s repayment?”

Wenren Lin lowered his gaze, raising his knuckles to touch the corner of his lips, unclear whether he meant the hawthorn or her initiative. “I hardly tasted anything—how stingy.”

“What else could I do?”

Zhao Yan retorted in a muffled voice. “I promised to watch the lanterns with you, but because of my bruised knees, I can’t accompany you to the fullest—consider it… a token of comfort.”

Wenren Lin laughed softly, even his icy demeanor seeming to melt.

Before meeting her, all he sought was death. After meeting her, mountains and rivers brightened, and even the wind tasted sweet.

He said, “This prince can see the lantern festival every year; there’s nothing special about it. What matters is who accompanies this prince to see it. Your Highness is intelligent and should not confuse what’s important.”

Zhao Yan understood these words, warmth spreading from her ears and heating her cheeks.

Could this person not speak so close to her? It was truly maddening!

Just then, from beneath the corridor bridge, suddenly came a woman’s giggling voice: “Look quickly, there are Hu people! What strange skin color and hair!”

Zhao Yan looked in the direction of the voice and saw Wuque, with his head of dazzling white hair, leading attendants out of a pleasure house, bidding farewell to the singing girls there.

This playboy demeanor hardly resembled someone who had come to propose marriage and negotiate.

Zhao Yan frowned slightly, remembering the important matter at hand.