Master Wumei gazed deeply at Qiao Zhao for a long time, then suddenly smiled: “Come, write this poem for me to see.”

Qiao Zhao looked at the calligraphy spread on the table, the ink still wet, and thought to herself: As expected, it’s Li Bai’s “Invitation to Wine.” This Grand Princess has cherished this poem for decades without change.

She moved the paper aside, laid out a fresh sheet, and with the newly ground ink, picked up the brush and began writing. Her movements were fluid and natural, completing it in one breath.

Master Wumei, beside her, fixed her gaze firmly on Qiao Zhao’s writing, already entranced, murmuring: “Do you not see the bright mirrors in high halls grieving over white hair, morning like black silk, evening turned to snow… morning like black silk, evening turned to snow…”

Qiao Zhao set down her brush and looked toward Master Wumei.

The room was quietly silent, with only the sound of unknown birds chirping outside the window, carried in by the early summer breeze.

Master Wumei came back to her senses, her expression complex as she stared at Qiao Zhao.

Qiao Zhao remained calm, allowing her to scrutinize.

After a long while, Master Wumei finally spoke: “Your calligraphy—who was your teacher?”

Qiao Zhao sighed inwardly.

She had long anticipated that once that Buddhist scripture was delivered to this Master, she would certainly want to meet the person who could write such calligraphy.

Who told her to use her grandfather’s handwriting style? Although her writing still lacked compared to her grandfather’s mastery, and her spirit was far inferior, looking across the world, in terms of “form,” no one’s writing should resemble her grandfather’s more closely than hers.

And Master Wumei, the former Princess, had become a nun in anger precisely because of her unrequited love for her grandfather years ago.

The secret affairs of imperial princesses from years past were unknown to the world. Qiao Zhao knew about it as a younger generation because that year, when she came to the Capital, she had mischievously forged her grandfather’s handwriting to tease her brother, tricking him into going to Dafu Temple to meet with noble ladies of the Capital for matchmaking. Her brother had accidentally lost the letter, which somehow ended up with Master Wumei.

That year on Buddha’s Birthday, the entire Dafu Temple was searching for the owner of that letter.

Master Wumei’s obsession with the letter struck her as strange. When she casually mentioned it to her grandmother after returning to Jia Feng, her grandmother told her about this past affair.

It was inappropriate to elaborate on the romantic affairs of elders, but to summarize, it was simply a story of two female cousins falling in love with the same man—one achieved wedded bliss, the other was left heartbroken.

Years had passed, and Qiao Zhao’s calligraphy had advanced beyond its former immaturity, which is why she was certain this Grand Princess would want to see her.

Qiao Zhao felt somewhat apologetic—she had exploited someone else’s emotional wound, which wasn’t very honorable, but now she had no choice but to do so.

“This humble girl has no formal teacher, only practicing from Master Qiao’s copybooks all along.”

Master Wumei’s gaze remained fixed on the paper, slowly shaking her head: “Such graceful spirit and natural quality—how could such calligraphy be achieved merely through copying practice books?”

She suddenly looked up, staring at Qiao Zhao: “What is your relationship to Qiao Zhuo?”

Under Master Wumei’s suddenly explosive pressure, Qiao Zhao’s expression remained unchanged as she earnestly replied: “I regard him as a heavenly being and aspire toward him. To have the fortune of practicing Master Qiao’s copybooks is this humble girl’s greatest honor.”

Master Wumei gradually calmed down.

She glanced once more at Qiao Zhao’s writing and walked to the window.

Outside was a bodhi tree, tall and lush, sheltering the entire courtyard in cool, quiet shade.

“You truly practiced this yourself?”

“Master, do you believe that some people are naturally gifted with exceptional talent?” Qiao Zhao asked with a smile.

Cough, cough, she wasn’t referring to herself, just providing a little misdirection.

“Naturally gifted with exceptional talent?” The figure of a man suddenly flashed through Master Wumei’s mind.

That person wore azure robes and drank strong wine. He could write the most carefree calligraphy in the world and create the most brilliant paintings, free as the wind, as if nothing could be taken to heart by him.

Yet he remained blind to her imperial princess status, instead being devoted to her plain, talentless cousin.

The affairs of this world were truly unfair.

She had hated, resented, questioned, and pleaded. Finally, she cut off her three thousand strands of hair and secluded herself in Shuying Nunnery. Decades had passed, leaving only a faint ache and long-lasting yearning in her heart.

When she heard news of his death, she merely sat in solitude for one night, then continued her morning prayers as usual the next day.

But she thought she would never again see any trace of that person in this life, yet today she had seen such calligraphy.

It could be said that this handwriting had already captured eighty percent of his true essence.

She had just watched that young girl write, as if seeing that person writing.

Master Wumei turned around, gazing calmly at Qiao Zhao, nodding slightly: “The young benefactor speaks correctly. There are indeed some people born with exceptional gifts, whose natural abilities far surpass those of ordinary people. This humble nun was narrow-minded.”

Master Wumei spoke as she approached, her voice gentle as she asked Qiao Zhao: “Would the young benefactor be willing to come to the nunnery every seven days to accompany this humble nun in copying Buddhist scriptures?”

Qiao Zhao smiled brightly: “I would be willing.”

Master Wumei smiled and asked again: “What is the young benefactor’s name?”

“This humble girl’s surname is Li, with the single name ‘Zhao.'”

“Li Zhao? Is it the ‘Zhao’ from ‘the wise illuminate themselves to illuminate others’?”

Qiao Zhao lowered her eyes: “Precisely the ‘Zhao’ from ‘the wise illuminate themselves to illuminate others.'”

Master Wumei’s expression became even more gentle. She nodded and said: “Go then. Remember to come in seven days. Jingxi, escort Miss Li out.”

“Yes.” Jingxi entered, gave Qiao Zhao a deep look, and politely said: “Third Miss Li, please follow this humble nun out.”

“This humble girl takes her leave.”

As Qiao Zhao followed the nun Jingxi outside, Master Wumei suddenly spoke: “Jingxi, personally escort Miss Li to Dafu Temple.”

Jingxi’s steps paused as she replied: “Yes.”

Only then did Master Wumei close her eyes, no longer watching them.

Got the wrong person initially? Heh heh, she had seen plenty of these scheming tricks from the inner quarters when she was a princess. It seemed that the child’s situation wasn’t very good.

Since that child was willing to accompany her in copying Buddhist scriptures, it was appropriate for her to offer some convenience with a mere gesture.

Jingxi led Qiao Zhao to the entrance of Shuying Nunnery, where the guest monk approached. Seeing her smiling face, he relaxed: “Senior Brother, have you already met Master Uncle?”

“I have. Master Uncle commanded me to escort the young benefactor out.”

The guest monk misunderstood and said to Qiao Zhao, “Young benefactor, please follow this humble monk.”

Jingxi interrupted: “Master Uncle commanded me to personally escort the young benefactor back to Dafu Temple. Junior Brother, please lead the way.”

The guest monk looked surprised and couldn’t help but glance at Qiao Zhao. Seeing her completely calm demeanor, he found it even more curious, but said nothing more and led the two toward Dafu Temple.

In the corridor, Du Feixue stood on tiptoe, looking into the distance. After watching for a while, she pulled at Li Jiǎo: “Why aren’t they back yet? Cousin Jiao, I want to see Third Miss Li return all disheveled and embarrassed—she’ll look even worse than your Second Miss!”

Li Jiǎo frowned: “Cousin Feixue, please don’t talk like that.”

If today’s matter went wrong, the Li family’s reputation would be completely ruined. When the nest is overturned, how can any eggs remain intact?

But Du Feixue didn’t care about such things, pouting: “Cousin Jiao, at a time like this, you’re still speaking up for Third Miss Li?”

As the two were talking, there was suddenly a commotion.

“Third Miss Li has returned!”