Su Jin looked at Zhu Nanxian.

He wore moon-white robes with two bamboo leaves embroidered on the cuffs, standing upright before her. Behind him was a dense bamboo forest, moonlight pouring down, the bamboo grove surging like waves.

Such elegant attire—if worn by someone else, might suggest brightness like a clear breeze, gentleness like the bright moon.

But Zhu Nanxian was different. His bearing was heroic, his manner forthright. Wearing fresh bamboo-colored plain robes only made his spirited vigor more prominent.

Su Jin lifted her robe and knelt on the ground, saying solemnly, “This humble subject knows not what virtue or ability she possesses to receive such profound kindness and deep affection from the Thirteenth Prince. Should Your Highness have any wish in the future, this humble subject will devote herself entirely, ready to be dispatched at will.”

Hearing the words “profound kindness,” Zhu Nanxian’s hand reaching to help her up suddenly froze, the corner of his mouth twitching as if somewhat embarrassed, “Oh, this is nothing. Please rise.”

Su Jin’s injuries had not fully healed, and after rushing about all day, she had relied solely on a taut thread of willpower to hold on until now. With Chao Qing’s case finally having some leads, she relaxed. Simultaneously, the pain and exhaustion hidden throughout her limbs surfaced. Between kneeling and rising, she nearly pitched forward, but fortunately managed to grasp a stone table with a thread of clarity.

Seeing this, Zhu Nanxian ordered, “Zheng Yun, go immediately to the palace and summon the imperial physician.”

Su Jin declined, “That’s unnecessary. This humble subject is merely tired. I’ll be fine after returning to the office to rest for a day.”

Zhu Nanxian had wanted to make her stay, but Su Jin’s earlier phrase “profound kindness” was like a barbed thorn—suddenly he found himself unable to say much. Allowing Su Jin to rest against the stone table for a moment, he couldn’t help saying, “You really—why risk your life for an unrelated Third-Place Scholar, gaining nothing but a body full of injuries?”

These past days he truly hadn’t been idle, expending considerable effort to submit a memorial requesting merit for Magistrate Su. Who knew the memorial would be thrown back before reaching the imperial desk, with Zhu Minda scolding him for being a meddling busybody who had his priorities reversed.

Su Jin smiled wearily, “Your Highness overestimates this subordinate. If he were truly someone I didn’t know, why would I take such a risk?” Thinking of how after Chao Qing’s disappearance, Xu Yuanzhe had copied out the “Great Pronouncements” for her character by character, she added, “He is this humble subject’s old friend. At the time, no one else at the scene knew him. If this humble subject didn’t go find him, who should have?”

Zhu Nanxian didn’t know what to say.

She was merely a frail scholar, yet in her conduct could still uphold principles and have a clear conscience.

Then he heard Su Jin ask, “Your Highness is in the palace—do you know how Third-Place Scholar Xu is faring now?”

Zhu Nanxian said, “Oh, probably still fine. To ensure impartiality, Father Emperor commanded that the top three scholars accompany Yan Ziyan in re-examining the spring examination papers, with a ten-day deadline. Calculating it out, after Yan Ziyan left the Crown Prince’s Administrative Office today, he should have gone to Fengtian Hall to report back to Father Emperor.”

Hearing these words, Su Jin’s complexion couldn’t help but change.

Having this year’s top scholar, second place, and third place investigate the case together? To ensure impartiality?

In an emperor’s heart, so-called impartiality and righteousness could never compare to the stability of the imperial throne and where the hearts of the realm’s people lay.

In earlier years, Emperor Jingyuan had executed meritorious officials and exterminated remnant parties of the previous dynasty—tens of thousands died in the northern lands. Currently the southern realm was peaceful and prosperous, while the north remained constantly anxious.

If Emperor Jingyuan wanted to completely win over northern hearts, he shouldn’t be thinking about how to balance this examination case fairly. He should think deeper and further—back to thirty years ago, forward to hundreds of years hence.

He should treat this examination case as an opportunity to say to those living in constant anxiety in the north: “Look, although I raised my forces from the south, all people under heaven are my subjects. I treat you all equally. Back then some among you committed wrongs, and I executed them. Now people in the south have committed wrongs, and I will likewise execute them.”

It mattered not whether these so-called “wrongs” were trumped-up charges. After all, with his imperial authority above, the entire court of civil and military officials would seal their mouths.

Su Jin had originally thought that after this incident, Emperor Jingyuan would revoke the titles of the top three scholars and promote a few northern scholars to imperial scholar status, and that would be that.

But Emperor Jingyuan’s thinking went deeper.

He wanted to stage a performance, a grand show for all under heaven to see.

He commanded the spring examination’s top scholar, second place, and third place to participate in investigating their own case. On the surface it appeared impartial, but in reality this case had long been determined in his imperial mind—it was a bargaining chip in his hands for stabilizing the realm, an inescapable calamity for this year’s southern scholars.

Zhu Nanxian saw Su Jin’s face turn deathly pale and couldn’t help saying, “If Magistrate Su is truly exhausted, rest at this Prince’s residence. Tomorrow morning this Prince will have a carriage prepared to send you back—it’s all the same.”

Who knew Su Jin would seem to squeeze out another thread of strength from her very bones and marrow, kneeling on the ground to say, “Thirteenth Prince, this humble subject has an impertinent request.” She kowtowed again to Zhu Nanxian, “This humble subject wishes to enter the palace tonight to see Junior Supervisor Yan.”

Zhu Nanxian had been about to say this presented no difficulty, but the next moment, he finally understood why Su Jin was so urgent.

Everything was too late.

Zheng Yun came rushing to the southern garden with swift steps, announcing, “Your Highness, something major has happened in the palace!”

Zhu Nanxian helped Su Jin up while saying, “What matter? Speak slowly.”

Zheng Yun swallowed and said, “At the hour of you today, Junior Supervisor Yan reported back to His Majesty that he had finished reviewing the spring examination papers, and neither the chief examiner, the three co-examiners, nor any of the imperial scholars had committed fraud—the essays from southern scholars were indeed better. Who knew His Majesty would fly into a towering rage upon hearing this, saying Yan Ziyan colluded with Elder Qiu to deceive the imperial audience together. He has already ordered all examination officials from the provincial examination, as well as all review officials large and small, imprisoned together, commanding that three days hence… all be executed.”

Upon these words, Zhu Nanxian also froze.

Zheng Yun continued, “In his great fury, His Majesty also commanded the Ministry of Justice and Imperial Censorate to submit registries of offices and personnel involved in the disturbance. He has now ordered the Ministry of Justice to take the Feathered Forest Guards to various offices to arrest people, bringing them back to the palace overnight for interrogation. Among these…” He paused slightly, glancing at Su Jin, “is also Magistrate Su from the capital office.”

Zhu Nanxian paced back and forth several steps with hands behind his back, then removed an ivory tablet from his waist and handed it to Zheng Yun, “Take this Prince’s tablet to find Zuo Qian. Have him immediately lead the Golden Guard to this Prince’s residence. If the Feathered Forest Guards want to arrest someone at this Prince’s residence, let’s see if they have the capability!”

Zheng Yun stood dumbstruck, stuttering, “Your—Your Highness…”

Zhu Nanxian said, “What are you standing there for? Go quickly!”

Su Jin was silent for a moment before saying, “Your Highness, please reconsider. This humble subject is deeply grateful for Your Highness’s protective intentions. But has Your Highness considered—if the Golden Guard confronts the Feathered Forest Guards, whose face would be refuted?”

Zhu Nanxian froze.

Su Jin said, “That’s right—it would be His Majesty’s. Your Highness might be able to protect this humble subject for a time, but cannot protect her for life. If this humble subject hides today, what should be done in the future? Flee to the ends of the earth? Moreover, judging from Chief Steward Zheng’s meaning, the Ministry of Justice is bringing me to the palace merely for interrogation. This humble subject can honestly say she is blameless before heaven and earth. They may not necessarily do anything to me.”

Zhu Nanxian had also acted rashly in the heat of the moment. Hearing Su Jin’s words, he gradually calmed down, yet still said, “You have injuries and have been rushing about exhaustedly. Right now you should be resting. If the Ministry of Justice uses torture, how can you withstand it?”

Su Jin said, “This humble subject is not so frail. It’s only one night—what cannot be endured?” With that, she bowed in farewell to Zhu Nanxian and turned to walk toward the estate’s exit.

Zhu Nanxian stood rooted in place deliberating for a long while, then raised his eyes to glance in the direction Su Jin had departed and instructed Zheng Yun, “Go prepare a carriage.” Then he turned and went in another direction.

The Prince’s residence had winding, convoluted paths. Su Jin wandered for nearly half an hour before reaching the gate. Looking up, she saw a carriage already waiting for her outside.

Zhu Nanxian had already changed back into his python robe and sat in the driver’s seat, raising his chin at Su Jin, “Get in. This Prince will send you back to the office.” Seeing Su Jin motionless, he added, “You won’t let this Prince summon the Golden Guard—this Prince agreed. But you have injuries and need proper rest. This Prince is determined to protect you for this night. This Prince commands you—you must also agree.”

He jumped down from the carriage shaft and stood aside to let Su Jin board, and as they brushed past each other, he finally sighed, “Su Shiyu, you may have doubts in your heart, not knowing why this Prince protects you. Rest well. When you’ve endured through this ordeal, come ask this Prince, and this Prince will certainly speak frankly.”

Su Jin lifted the curtain to enter the carriage. Hearing this, her form paused and she softly replied, “This subject does not wish to ask.”

The carriage rumbled along the capital’s deep-night avenue. Zhu Nanxian thought of various past events, feeling intense regret.

The carriage interior was silent. Zhu Nanxian thought Su Jin had fallen asleep from exhaustion when a barely audible sigh came softly from within: “Your Highness, it is timing and fate. This humble subject’s circumstances are due to fortune’s workings. Why must Your Highness take it to heart?”