In the imperial study, the emperor’s expression was somber as he looked at the young Grand Tutor before him: “I don’t know when Grand Tutor Liu became so concerned about Princess Hong’an’s affairs?”
“This minister performs his duties. Moreover, this matter has many suspicious points. We might as well wait a bit longer, let the Ministry of Justice investigate for a few more days, and hold a public trial that will convince the people.” Liu Min was neither humble nor arrogant. This young man had never formed factions, and though a nouveau riche, had made considerable achievements in court. Facing the emperor’s questioning gaze for the first time, his eyes remained frank and his manner unhurried.
With a “smack,” a memorial was thrown heavily at Liu Min. The emperor’s face was dark as he shouted: “I’m asking you when you became so concerned about Princess Hong’an’s affairs!”
As the ruler of a nation with ears and eyes throughout the palace, the emperor inevitably heard various rumors and had already developed a dislike for Liu Min. But Liu Min still stood straight, his expression unchanged, continuing quietly: “This minister fulfills his ministerial duties, unrelated to personal feelings.”
Eunuch Li glanced at the person across from him. The young man was dignified and refined, born with a scholarly temperament, yet possessed the stubbornness and pride of literati. This person was originally cultivated by the emperor specifically for Great Jin’s future, but now he had touched the emperor’s sensitive spot while maintaining an unyielding attitude. Eunuch Li pondered inwardly—this afternoon, Old General Zhao had already visited once, Empress Dowager Yide had also spoken, and though Xiao Shao hadn’t said anything, given his character, he wouldn’t stand idly by. Now even the upright Grand Tutor Liu Min was speaking up. Princess Hong’an, the legitimate daughter of the Jiang family, was truly no ordinary person. But Liu Min’s words would likely add fuel to the fire of the emperor’s already considerable displeasure—hardly a good strategy.
The emperor stared coldly at Liu Min for a long moment, then suddenly slammed the table: “How fine—’unrelated to personal feelings’! Since you all plead for Hong’an, what harm is there in giving a few more days? Good! I want to see what evidence you can produce! Get out!”
The emperor was furious. Liu Min only bowed quietly and withdrew. Eunuch Li spoke soothingly: “Your Majesty need not worry excessively. Grand Tutor Liu’s words aren’t unreasonable. This matter likely has suspicious elements, and I fear interested parties might use it for their purposes. A few more days wouldn’t hurt.”
“Do you think I’m confused?” The emperor looked at the memorials on his desk with disappointment: “I just don’t understand how one after another has fallen under Jiang Ruan’s spell. Could she really be some enchantress?”
…
After leaving the imperial study and exiting the palace, Liu Min went straight to the Ministry of Justice’s prison. The jailer first froze upon seeing him, then rose somewhat flustered to greet him: “I didn’t know Grand Tutor was coming. Is there something you need?”
“I’ve come to see someone.” Liu Min frowned slightly. After several years in officialdom, he still wasn’t accustomed to such obsequiousness. Even so, he pulled out a silver ingot from his sleeve and handed it to the jailer.
The jailer received it with pleasant surprise, thinking the supposedly clean and untainted Grand Tutor who prided himself on purity was no different after all—he too understood the ways of greasing palms in officialdom. Why put on such airs for others to see? Though he thought this inwardly, his expression remained respectful: “Of course, of course. Grand Tutor need only speak, and if it’s within my power, I’ll certainly do my utmost.” He then asked: “Which person does Grand Tutor wish to see?”
“Princess Hong’an,” Liu Min replied.
Jiang Ruan was held in the innermost cell, where death row prisoners were kept. Though her sentence hadn’t been decided, almost everyone believed she couldn’t escape this time—killing a princess, how could she emerge unscathed? However, thanks to arrangements by Xiao Shao or Zhao Guang, her time in prison was relatively comfortable, with the guards not making things particularly difficult for her.
When Liu Min reached the innermost area, he immediately saw Jiang Ruan sitting against the wall, seemingly lost in thought, appearing somewhat absent-minded but not panicked or disheveled. He felt relieved, then mocked himself—knowing she wasn’t an ordinary woman, the scene of common women crying and wailing when imprisoned certainly wouldn’t apply to her.
“Princess,” he called out.
Jiang Ruan came to her senses, looked up to see him, a flash of surprise in her eyes, then smiled: “Grand Tutor Liu.”
Liu Min crouched before the cell, looking at her through the bars. Surveying the cell’s interior, though conditions were simple, they weren’t harsh—quite different from what he’d seen in other cells along the way. Jiang Ruan’s clothes were intact and clean, suggesting she hadn’t suffered much. Someone had likely made arrangements for her.
“What brings Grand Tutor here?” Jiang Ruan asked, seeing him only observing without speaking.
Liu Min looked at her: “I… came to see you.” After a pause: “Are you well?”
Emotion flickered in the young man’s eyes. Despite his efforts to conceal it, three parts leaked out inadvertently. Jiang Ruan, skilled at reading expressions, frowned slightly then smiled brightly: “I’m well. Thank you for your concern, Grand Tutor.”
She was always politely distant, keeping others at arm’s length. Liu Min felt slightly bitter. Thinking of today’s events, he said seriously: “I believe you. Princess He Yi wasn’t killed by you.”
Liu Min felt that though Jiang Ruan appeared cold, she was fundamentally kind—otherwise she wouldn’t have intervened when Princess He Yi bullied the Thirteenth Prince.
“Naturally I didn’t kill her,” Jiang Ruan looked at him. “I had no reason to kill her.”
Hearing Jiang Ruan’s words, Liu Min’s expression brightened further: “Rest assured, I’ll find a way to rescue you.”
Jiang Ruan was slightly surprised. Though her previous support of Liu Min was intended to have him pave the way for her someday, this young Grand Tutor’s current behavior completely contradicted her original intentions. Such sincere feelings were undoubtedly a burden for her.
“Thank you, Grand Tutor Liu.” Jiang Ruan pondered: “However, I have my own plans for this matter. The truth will eventually come to light. Grand Tutor need not worry excessively.”
Disappointment flashed through Liu Min’s eyes: “You don’t consider me a friend.” Before Jiang Ruan could speak, he continued: “You helped me before, so now it’s time for me to repay that debt. I naturally must help you. You needn’t say more—the ancients said, ‘Repay a drop of kindness with a spring of gratitude.’ Given the great favor you showed me, my fate was rewritten because of you. If I don’t repay this, what kind of person would Liu Min be?”
After long silence, Jiang Ruan shook her head: “Grand Tutor is sincere by nature. I’m naturally willing to befriend you sincerely. It’s just that I truly have plans now. Grand Tutor’s rash assistance might be counterproductive. When I have troubles in the future, I’ll ask Grand Tutor to act—please don’t refuse then.”
“I naturally couldn’t refuse,” Liu Min said hurriedly. Under the weak lamplight, Jiang Ruan’s eyes were like water, her features even more flawlessly beautiful. His heart stirred, and words he’d long wanted to say spilled out: “Would… would you accept my protection?”
Jiang Ruan looked at him in surprise.
Liu Min’s handsome face seemed slightly flushed. Speaking such words to a woman for the first time, his eyes held none of their former pride and aloofness, only clumsy shyness: “I… I have admired the princess for a long time. Now the princess faces difficulties in court—today’s events show many wish to harm the princess. If the princess continues like this, it will be impossible to guard against everything. If the princess could marry into another family now, she would have protection. Though Liu Min lacks great achievements, I want to protect the princess for life. I’ll use all my abilities to protect the princess and never let her suffer the slightest grievance.”
Jiang Ruan looked at him. In her previous life, she never saw Liu Min’s ultimate fate. Given his talents, if he couldn’t be used by Xuan Li, he would likely face death. But in her previous life, she had personally witnessed his rise from poverty, his fate changing by chance, ultimately giving this upright young man a prosperous opportunity—step by step like lotus flowers, finally living up to his life’s ambitions.
Yet these two people who had no intersection in her previous life met by chance in this life. She only wanted to use him but inadvertently won someone’s sincere heart.
“I…” Jiang Ruan was about to speak when she heard a familiar, cold voice from ahead, seemingly tinged with slight displeasure.
“She doesn’t need your protection, because she is my person.”
A familiar figure emerged from the shadows, his pure black robe hem swaying, creating golden magnificence even in the darkness. Xiao Shao walked to the cell door, glanced indifferently at Liu Min, then looked at Jiang Ruan, passing a basket through the small window: “Pastries made by the mansion’s chef, and some clothing. It’s cold at night—don’t catch a chill.”
He seemed somewhat displeased, his tone stiff, yet his actions and the items he delivered all declared his close relationship with Jiang Ruan. Liu Min was already stunned by Xiao Shao’s declaration that “she is my person,” and seeing his actions now, his expression immediately changed.
Jin San rolled his eyes silently behind them. Master’s jealousy was truly excessive. When Jin Si reported that Grand Tutor Liu had visited the imperial study and then the Ministry prison today, Xiao Shao immediately rushed over non-stop. This speed was simply lethal. If she were Grand Tutor Liu, she’d have punched Xiao Shao long ago. Of course, she couldn’t beat Xiao Shao, and Liu Min, a weak scholar with no fighting ability, certainly couldn’t either.
The gentleman Grand Tutor Liu indeed stood up, looking at Xiao Shao with a frown: “Prince Xiao should take responsibility for his words.” His expression showed considerable indignation: “How does this affect Princess Hong’an’s reputation?”
“Ah Ruan.” Xiao Shao ignored Liu Min completely, only looking at Jiang Ruan in the cell, speaking in an unprecedentedly gentle tone: “Public trial in three days. Don’t worry.”
This “Ah Ruan” left Jiang Ruan somewhat stunned and unable to think clearly. She remained dazed for a long moment before recovering, but her bewildered reaction appeared to Liu Min as acceptance. Thinking of how intimate Xiao Shao and her forms of address had become, Liu Min’s face immediately paled. Seeing his expression, Jiang Ruan’s heart stirred, then she smiled at Xiao Shao: “Good. With you here, I’m naturally not afraid.”
Jin San looked sympathetically at Grand Tutor Liu, who was obviously hurt by these two people’s blatant display of affection. If Xiao Shao’s earlier words had dealt Liu Min a fatal blow, Jiang Ruan’s flower-like smile and response were another vicious stab.
Liu Min moved his lips, finally squeezing out a few words with difficulty: “In that case, Princess, Liu Min takes his leave.” He hurried away without looking back, his retreating figure revealing several degrees of sadness.
Jiang Ruan was still watching Liu Min’s departing figure when Xiao Shao suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her view. Jiang Ruan looked up to find Xiao Shao gazing down at her: “No need to watch. He’s gone.”
“…” Jiang Ruan glared at him. Xiao Shao had been increasingly abnormal lately, as if he’d become a different person. Sometimes she wondered if this was really the cold, indifferent, mature, and steady young prince people spoke of. To her, Xiao Shao’s behavior was utterly childish. Childish?
She took a deep breath: “Xiao Shao, what exactly are you doing here?”
“If I hadn’t come, you’d have become the Grand Tutor’s wife,” Xiao Shao reminded her.
“…”
Jin San couldn’t help but groan quietly in the darkness. Master’s words were so melancholy—Manager Lin should witness this to understand what they meant by “men in love lose their minds!”
“I wouldn’t enter the Grand Tutor’s mansion,” Jiang Ruan said. “If I really married him, his career would be over.”
“You consider him in everything—no wonder he misunderstood.” The beautiful Xiao Shao was relentless.
“Your uninvited arrival today—didn’t that make him misunderstand too?” Jiang Ruan said. “He won’t misunderstand anymore in the future.”
Xiao Shao frowned. Already born beautiful and heroic, his frown under the lamplight made him appear even more immortally handsome, with an added touch of asceticism. His thin lips pressed together, ultimately still harboring resentment over Liu Min’s matter. This wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed Liu Min showing interest in Jiang Ruan—how could he be content? Since Jiang Ruan had said this much, he lowered his gaze and said indifferently: “Mm, don’t see him again in the future.”
How domineering this person was! Jiang Ruan felt frustrated and randomly picked up the items he’d passed in earlier. They were indeed food and clothing, all prepared meticulously. In fact, Xiao Shao had sent people to make arrangements these past few days. Her time in prison wasn’t much different from life in the mansion. She couldn’t help recalling her previous life when she was similarly imprisoned but subjected to extreme torture, nearly broken beyond recognition.
Lost in thought, Xiao Shao saw her condition and gently tapped her head: “Pay attention.”
Jiang Ruan wasn’t accustomed to such intimate gestures and turned her head away: “Tianzhu should have told you about this matter. I already have plans. You needn’t interfere.”
“I know.” Xiao Shao said quietly: “Just do what you must. I’ll handle everything else.”
His words were reassuring. Jiang Ruan lowered her head: “Thank you.”
Xiao Shao said: “If you could seek my help, I’d actually be happier.” Tianzhu was right—Jiang Ruan was accustomed to solving everything herself and didn’t easily seek others’ help. Even when seeking help, she maintained a businesslike attitude of mutual benefit, never accepting favors freely. This was actually her way of isolating herself from others, rejecting all possible kindness and affection.
Xiao Shao looked at her thoughtfully. He couldn’t find Jiang Ruan’s secrets, and she wouldn’t volunteer them. But when someone sealed their heart away, getting inside was very difficult. Since Jiang Ruan was now his person, Xiao Shao hoped she wouldn’t think of fighting alone in anything. At least Prince Jinying’s mansion had the ability to protect her completely. His person could only be protected by him alone.
“No need,” Jiang Ruan predictably refused him. “The inner quarters are women’s battlefield. Like my elder brother, who is invincible on the battlefield, I naturally have my own methods to remain undefeated in these deep palace inner quarters.”
Xiao Shao reached out, finally placing his hand on her shoulder: “I’ll always stand on your side.”
…
Wu Ming, the palace’s most senior coroner, sighed deeply over Princess Hong’an’s corpse before removing his cloth gloves and wiping sweat from his forehead: “Replying to Your Lordship, Princess He Yi was stabbed once in the abdomen and died from excessive blood loss. The timing also matches what the Fourth Prince said.”
Minister Luo, in charge of the Ministry of Justice, pondered with lowered eyes before instructing his attendants: “Write the coroner’s examination results into the case file. The rest of you, follow me to examine the scene again.”
The emperor had given a death order—public trial in three days. This wasn’t an ordinary case either. Princess Hong’an’s case appeared to be merely a royal family murder, but actually involved multiple factions. One careless misjudgment causing court power imbalances would bring endless disaster upon him.
Moreover, Princess Hong’an’s case had the emperor, Consort Shu, and Fourth Prince on one side, with Empress Dowager Yide, Zhao Guang, and Xiao Shao on the other—he couldn’t afford to offend either side. Thinking of being caught in the middle, Minister Luo couldn’t help sighing, his mind heavy with concerns.
At Eighth Prince’s mansion, Xuan Li was playing with a pure white porcelain wine cup, gently swirling the fine wine within, smiling: “How are things progressing?”
His subordinate respectfully replied: “Replying to Your Highness, everything has been arranged. The coroner has also examined the body—no problems.”
Having spent years gauging court winds, Xuan Li wasn’t entirely without ability. He had planted people in various places to some degree. Tampering with Princess He Yi’s corpse wasn’t impossible for him—it was actually effortless. Using some deception to fool the coroner meant no one would doubt his words. After the coroner’s examination came physical evidence, plus Xuan Lang as witness—establishing the crime was simple.
The most unbearable thing in the world was wanting something beyond reach. For the position he desired but couldn’t obtain, someday he would get it. For the person he desired but couldn’t have—she was merely a woman. If he couldn’t have her, he’d destroy her instead. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Since Xiao Shao wanted to compete with him, better to ruin Jiang Ruan.
But somehow, a slight unease suddenly crossed Xuan Li’s heart. This feeling was very subtle, almost negligible. He steadied himself, forcing himself to ignore that strange sensation, slowly gripping his wine cup tighter and taking a shallow sip.
“Truly sorry, Princess.”