Zhao Yǎn had just returned to the Eastern Palace when he saw his sister, disguised as the “Crown Prince,” sitting behind the desk, holding a small jar of pickled sour plums and eating them one by one with a silver pin.
Her cheeks were puffed up, her skin white with a rosy tinge, looking like a squirrel with its mouth full of food.
“After eating so many plums, don’t your teeth feel sour?” Zhao Yǎn asked, removing his eunuch clothes and hat and handing them to an attendant while taking a food box from another. “What happened? Who upset our Yan’er?”
Hearing Zhao Yǎn’s voice, Zhao Yān’s furrowed eyebrows immediately drooped as she said miserably: “What took you so long to come back?”
Her dejected, aggrieved tone formed a stark contrast with her excited demeanor before leaving in the morning.
Zhao Yǎn glanced at Ah Xing, who kept his head lowered as he briefly reported how Wenren Lin had temporarily substituted as teacher and how Princess Changfeng had reluctantly eaten half a sweet bean cake that was sweet enough to make her throat ache.
Surprised that today’s martial arts class had been changed at the last minute, Zhao Yǎn’s brow furrowed slightly, revealing a hint of frail melancholy.
He placed the bayberry quencher he had bought on the street on the desk and explained gently: “I apologize. I waited several years to meet an old friend, and our conversation was so pleasant that I momentarily forgot the time to return to the palace. Yan’er has suffered. Would you like a bowl of bayberry quencher to calm yourself?”
Zhao Yān had left without checking the almanac today and was just casually complaining.
…
…
The juice, transparent and bright red like agate, was served in a white jade bowl. It must have been transported back to the palace with ice, as it still emitted wisps of cool air, with a ring of fine water droplets condensed on the rim of the white jade bowl.
It was good to have a twin brother. Even when he went out of the palace, he would still remember to bring back one or two delicious or interesting things for her.
Zhao Yān was content as she picked up the bowl and sipped slowly. The cool, slightly sour, bright red juice entered her stomach, washing away the lingering sweetness in her mouth.
Zhao Yǎn instinctively reached for the sweet cake offered by Ah Xing—having drunk too many medicinal decoctions since childhood, after tasting too much bitterness, he especially craved sweetness.
But remembering that his sister had just suffered from excessive sweetness, he curled his fingers back and properly placed them on his lap.
“Would you like me to intervene tomorrow and get some revenge for Yan’er?” Zhao Yǎn asked.
Zhao Yān nearly choked on a mouthful of bayberry water.
Zhao Yǎn was a kind-hearted person without a temper, a true gentleman as pure as sunshine after rain, speaking gently to everyone, never even raising his voice in rebuke. How would he know about “getting revenge”?
Zhao Yān imagined Zhao Yǎn gently admonishing Wenren Lin with his mild demeanor and found it absurdly amusing, waving her hand: “Forget it, it’s not a big deal. By the way, whose class is tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow should be archery class…”
Zhao Yǎn pondered carefully for a moment. His plans couldn’t be arranged in just a day or two, but if he continued to let Yan’er substitute for him at Chongwen Hall, he would still worry.
Moreover, Wenren Lin had never been talkative or active when teaching in the past, as if simply completing a task, coming and going promptly. What he did to Yan’er today seemed more like he was suspicious.
He was truly an unfathomable person.
Zhao Yān seemed to see what Zhao Yǎn was about to say and spoke first: “These few days, you handle your affairs. Don’t worry about me.”
Before Zhao Yǎn could refuse, she stood up with a cold snort, her mind calculating rapidly.
The humiliation she had suffered, she would have to avenge herself.
The next day, after the literature class ended, Zhao Yān went to the side hall to change clothes by herself—
She needed to keep her impersonation of the Crown Prince secret from everyone, so she didn’t bring palace maids with her. Ah Xing, who was protecting her in secret, was a man and thus inconvenient for helping her change. Therefore, she had to do it herself.
She hurriedly put on Zhao Yǎn’s apricot-white everyday clothes, checked in the mirror to confirm that the small tear mole painted at the corner of her eye was still there, tested her lowered voice with a couple of “ah” sounds, and, confirming everything was in order, followed the eunuch’s lead to the small training field for archery lessons.
Upon seeing Wenren Lin standing there in his dark warrior’s robe, Zhao Yān felt no surprise whatsoever.
She steadied herself, walking over numbly, mechanically forcing a gentle fake smile, and called out: “Young General.”
“Your Highness,” Wenren Lin bowed slightly, his unhurried manner exuding extreme elegance.
Who knew what this man ate to grow so tall, with shoulders and arms full of potential power? Even when bowing in greeting, he exuded tremendous pressure, making one’s heart pound.
Zhao Yān came prepared, having already thought of countermeasures.
If Wenren Lin tried to frighten her again with those throat-achingly sweet things, she would claim she had taken medicine and couldn’t eat sweets. If Wenren Lin insisted on watching her eat as he did yesterday, that would border on “conspiring to harm the Crown Prince.”
Zhao Yān had made up her mind, but to her surprise, Wenren Lin didn’t mention sweet food at all. Instead, his gaze lightly swept over Zhao Yān’s attire and paused.
“Your Highness, you’re going to practice archery dressed like this?”
He dragged out his words, seemingly amused.
Zhao Yān followed his gaze, looked at her wide, everyday robe sleeves, and was momentarily speechless.
Zhao Yǎn’s archery clothes required wrist guards, which she couldn’t manage alone, and she couldn’t ask others for help. She could only choose a seemingly simple everyday outfit… but indeed, it might not be suitable for archery.
“Bring the silver arm strap,” Wenren Lin ordered.
The attendant quickly brought forward a tray containing an exquisite silver-red arm strap. Wenren Lin’s slender fingers picked it up and walked toward Zhao Yān.
Zhao Yān vigilantly took a step back.
Wenren Lin smiled indifferently: “This item is used to bind the sleeves; otherwise, it’s not convenient for drawing a bow and shooting arrows.”
Zhao Yān was about to say “let the attendant do it,” when she saw Wenren Lin seemingly reading her thoughts, saying slowly: “Your Highness is noble, so naturally I should serve you personally.”
Though he spoke of “serving,” his straight back showed not the slightest humility of a servant.
While still uncertain, Wenren Lin had already wrapped the arm strap under her sleeve and said quietly: “May I trouble Your Highness to raise your arm a bit.”
Zhao Yān raised her arm as instructed, then realized: why was she listening to him?
But it was too late. Wenren Lin’s silver-red arm strap deftly circled her right arm, crossed diagonally from the back of her shoulder to her front chest, passed through the other sleeve, wrapped around the back of her neck, and returned to her right shoulder. Both cumbersome large sleeves were neatly folded and stacked under her armpits, revealing the young person’s slender arms wrapped in narrow sleeves under the outer garment.
Wenren Lin gazed at the “Crown Prince’s” fair nape, his eyes darkening, as if catching another whiff of that extremely faint sweet scent emanating from deep within the skin, different from the medicinal smell usually on the Crown Prince’s body.
Seeing that Wenren Lin didn’t proceed further, Zhao Yān felt like a lamb bound for slaughter, her posture becoming somewhat rigid.
Could it be that he… has discovered something?
Zhao Yān maintained her composure and swallowed before reminding him: “If Young General has forgotten how to tie the arm strap, you can summon palace servants to do it.”
Wenren Lin withdrew his gaze and replied: “I was just curious about what fragrance Your Highness has been using these days. It’s quite interesting.”
“Is that so?”
Zhao Yān’s heart surged with a thousand waves, but her face remained calm as water as she slowly smiled falsely: “Indeed, I’ve changed personal attendants these days. I’ll ask them later what fragrance they’ve been using.”
Wenren Lin didn’t pursue the matter further. His slender fingers tied an elegant knot with the arm strap, then slowly adjusted its tightness.
Looking at the “little Crown Prince’s” imperceptibly trembling eyelashes, Wenren Lin lowered his eyes to hide the amusement in them.
Why so nervous? He wasn’t going to expose the princess.
With the war just settled, his mind full of schemes had no outlet, and his energy was almost overflowing. Having finally found an amusement, scaring her away would be a loss.
The “little Crown Prince” chose a suitable bow, her slender figure bound with the arm strap exuding a certain resilience.
The Emperor had deep thoughts, wanting to use a daughter of direct blood to win over and constrain the Wenren family—quite a calculated move. But what use was such a restless, immature girl, delicate enough to break with a pinch?
Perhaps before she even learned to draw a bow, she would already be complaining of hardship.
Wenren Lin watched the “Crown Prince,” who didn’t even know how to attach an arrow quiver, secretly sneering, though the smile on his face grew increasingly refined.
“Let me first teach Your Highness the stance for drawing a bow.”
He stepped forward to help Zhao Yān secure the arrow quiver, then placed his palm under her forearm through the cloth, guiding her to raise her arm and draw the bow. Every expression and movement of the man was a perfectly designed display of courtesy, like manipulating an interesting object, challenging Zhao Yān’s vigilance.
Unfortunately, Zhao Yān was not one to be manipulated.
She still remembered yesterday’s “grievance”!
Her eyes moved, and Zhao Yān showed an obedient smile: “May I ask Young General to draw the string and demonstrate for me?”
Wenren Lin said, “I will summon archers to demonstrate for Your Highness’s observation.”
“I’ve long heard that Young General’s archery is unparalleled in the world, able to shoot through willow leaves at a hundred paces without a miss. For learning, there is no better model than the Young General.”
Encountering the inquiry in Wenren Lin’s eyes, Zhao Yān pretended to pause, then lowered her voice: “Young General is a pillar of the nation. Is my request too excessive?”
With words put this way, if Wenren Lin still declined, it would be showing disrespect to his sovereign.
He casually took his bow, positioned his straight, long legs with one in front and one behind, drew the string, and nocked an arrow, explaining the essentials of the shooting posture step by step to Zhao Yān.
“Does Your Highness understand?” Wenren Lin asked when he finished, glancing sidelong.
Zhao Yān nodded, then gently shook her head, saying slowly: “I’ve memorized the techniques, but still can’t apply them practically. Please don’t release your strength, Young General. Maintain this posture so I can look more carefully.”
Wenren Lin raised an eyebrow but maintained his bow-drawing posture without moving, his shoulders broad, his waist straight, unparalleled in vigor.
Zhao Yān circled around Wenren Lin, carefully observing from front, back, left, and right, occasionally touching the bowstring, wiping the arrow, appearing utterly earnest, deliberately taking her time.
This observation of hers lasted a full half hour.
Credit to Wenren Lin’s solid foundation—the arrowhead remained as steady as a mountain from beginning to end, without the slightest deviation. If an ordinary person were to maintain such a posture of holding a drawn bow without moving, they would likely be trembling with sore muscles within less than half an hour.
The warm spring sun passed through the corridor, shadows gradually slanting westward, with a dazzling orange-gold flicker dancing on the full-moon-like bowstring.
Having dawdled enough, Zhao Yān finally suppressed the glint of cunning in her eyes and opened an apologetic smile: “I’m sorry. I’m not skilled with bows and arrows, so I learn rather slowly.”
“Your Highness strives for perfection. Not at all,” Wenren Lin said with a perfect shallow smile, his voice smooth and gentle, showing no fluctuation of emotion.
Quite patient indeed. Zhao Yān secretly marveled.
Having avenged yesterday’s “excessive sweetness,” she didn’t trouble him further and turned to focus on practicing her arm strength.
Wenren Lin loosened his sore shoulders and arms, putting away the bow at the appropriate moment.
The full-moon-like bowstring resumed its original form with a twang, and the harmless smile in his eyes also receded, transforming into a shadow of dark interest.