When Su Jin was very young, she knocked over a blue and white porcelain vase.

It was her grandfather’s most cherished possession, the first treasure he had confiscated from a deceitful and reputation-stealing prefect in Huaixi forty years ago when he followed Emperor Jingyuan in raising troops.

Emperor Jingyuan had casually given it to him, saying: “If one day the realm is in my hands, I promise you half of it.”

Her grandfather was a great Confucian scholar of his time, possessing learning that encompassed heaven and earth, as well as the wisdom to perceive worldly affairs.

Later, Emperor Jingyuan truly gained the realm and thrice invited him to serve as Prime Minister. Her grandfather served for two or three years each time before finally retiring to seclusion.

Su Jin remembered her grandfather once saying: “Since ancient times, imperial power and ministerial power have balanced each other. Some people can be friends through hardship but cannot share prosperity and power. Zhu Jingyuan is naturally suspicious and murderously brutal. How can he tolerate others sleeping soundly beside his couch? It seems that the age-old ‘ministerial troubles’ are about to become ‘ministerial calamities.'”

Later, events unfolded exactly as her grandfather predicted. Emperor Jingyuan executed two consecutive Prime Ministers and abolished the Secretariat, ordering that future generations never establish the position of Prime Minister again.

That blood-drenched catastrophe had complex ramifications—even Su Jin’s long-retired grandfather could not escape it.

Su Jin remembered that year, hiding in a haystack reeking of decaying corpses, the sounds of slaughter outside transformed into plaintive notes flowing into her mind, making her recall the scene of the blue and white porcelain vase shattering.

At that time, fearing her grandfather’s sadness, she had spent a day and night piecing the vase back together. When her grandfather saw it, a melancholy expression appeared between his brows.

He said: “A’yu, though a broken mirror can be made whole again, the cracks remain. What should one do when some matters yield no good results despite one’s best efforts?”

What should one do?

Su Jin didn’t know. Even now, she only understood the melancholy between her grandfather’s brows—it was probably reminiscence of the exhilarating campaigns he shared with his old friend across the Central Plains years ago.

Old times tinged with a slightly intoxicated hue could still surface in idle dreams, but upon waking, he could neither accept nor bear that everything once treasured as precious would fall into these vulgar struggles for glory and power, destroying itself in the flames.

Su Jin thought that her grandfather’s question would likely require her entire life to seek an answer, and to this day, all she could do was her best.

Zhu Nanxian carried Su Jin at swift pace to the side chamber nearest Xuanyuan Terrace. Looking back, he found a large group had followed behind him at some point. Seeing him turn around, they hurriedly knelt like planted radishes, filling the entire room.

This side chamber was the residence of palace maids from the front palace hall. Off-duty palace maids knelt in the first row, behind them a row of palace servants, and beyond them all the way to outside the room, a mass of guards from Chengtian Gate knelt in darkness. Several among them were soaked through—they had probably jumped into Cloud Assembly River after him.

Zhu Nanxian gently and carefully placed Su Jin on the sleeping couch, then said to the nearest palace maid: “You, go fetch your clean clothes and change Magistrate Su into them.”

The palace maid timidly responded: “Yes.” She raised her eyes to look at the eighth-rank insignia on the person lying on the couch, then added: “But…”

Zhu Nanxian felt his brain was filled with mush. He sat down by the sleeping couch, guiltily blocking Su Jin’s chest area, then pointed at the junior fire-tender behind the palace maid: “Wrong, you—you go find clean clothes.”

The junior fire-tender hurriedly complied and in no time brought a light blue long jacket.

Zhu Nanxian ordered him to place the jacket aside, coughed, and said: “Alright, all of you withdraw. This prince is going to…” He swallowed, “change Magistrate Su’s clothes.”

Everyone in the room exchanged glances. Not one dared move.

The palace maid whom Zhu Nanxian had first ordered to fetch clothes said cautiously: “Your Highness, Your Highness is of noble body—better to let this servant change Magistrate Su’s clothes instead.”

Zhu Nanxian looked at her solemnly, assuming utmost gravity: “How dare you! Do you not know that men and women should not touch hands in passing objects?”

The palace maid fell silent and withdrew with the roomful of female servants.

Just then, the imperial physician who had been summoned arrived. Seeing the palace maids had already withdrawn, he hurriedly entered carrying his medicine box, but was stopped by Zhu Nanxian’s command to “halt.” Unable to advance or retreat, he could only kneel at the threshold.

Zhu Nanxian said solemnly again: “Did you not hear what this prince just said?”

The imperial physician looked at Zhu Nanxian with a confused expression: “Your Highness, what Your Highness just said was that men and women should not touch hands, but this subject…” He pointed at himself, then at the person lying on the couch, meaning that both he and Su Jin were equipped with male parts.

Zhu Nanxian was stunned, thinking: Ah, my head aches—how should this prince explain this?

Thinking back and forth without result, Zhu Nanxian could only cough and say even more solemnly: “How dare you! Whatever this prince says, you do. Just because you’re both men means you can touch each other without distinction? Hurry up and get out.”

At these words, the imperial physician hastily kowtowed and withdrew along with the group of palace servants still kneeling on the ground who had thought they could touch freely. As he reached the outside of the side chamber, he still heard Zhu Nanxian carefully instruct once more: “Close the door.”

The imperial physician hurriedly shut the door tightly. Unable to contain himself any longer, he said to the chief palace servant of the front palace hall who stood with hands at his sides, eyes observing his nose and nose observing his heart: “Eunuch Zhang, what is the Thirteenth Prince doing…”

Eunuch Zhang looked at him with an expression of great misfortune.

The imperial physician was startled. He pointed toward the side chamber with one hand, then lowered his voice: “But this old man heard that lying on that couch is a magistrate from the capital’s government office.”

Eunuch Zhang nodded with an expression of great misfortune.

The imperial physician’s jaw seemed to have dislocated. He asked again: “His Highness is handsome in appearance and pure in character—how, how did he develop this taste?”

Eunuch Zhang said with an expression of great misfortune: “Never mind how he developed it. First consider whether His Majesty and His Highness the Crown Prince know about this matter. If they know, that’s one thing. But if they didn’t know before and learn of it today, and discover that you and this servant attended to and worried over the person on that couch, Imperial Physician Jiang should think about how many of our arms, heads, and legs might remain.”

Hearing these words, the imperial physician’s tears rolled in his eye sockets. His heart hardened and his eyes closed, thinking it better to dash himself to death. He immediately moved to strike his head against the doorframe.

But before his forehead touched the doorframe, the door was pulled open from inside. The imperial physician lost his balance and planted himself headfirst like an upside-down scallion at Zhu Nanxian’s feet.

Zhu Nanxian coughed. This time he didn’t put on airs, merely lowering his eyes and saying quietly: “Go examine the patient.”

The sleeping couch had been specially arranged. Who knew where the Thirteenth Prince had pulled a curtain from to screen Su Jin.

It was like examining a female family member—one could not see her true appearance.

While taking her pulse, the imperial physician used his peripheral vision to observe Zhu Nanxian.

Since he entered the room, the Thirteenth Prince had sat silently, properly, ramrod straight, almost motionless to one side, as if trying hard to assume an appearance of having nothing to hide, yet unfortunately, his face bore a slight flush.

The moment his fingertips left Su Jin’s wrist, Zhu Nanxian anxiously asked: “How is she?”

The imperial physician said: “Your Highness, Magistrate Su’s pulse is suspended, floating and weak, visible in the deep position—when raised there is nothing, when pressed it can be felt. This indicates deficiency of both qi and blood, a condition of long illness not yet healed. Moreover, due to excessive toil, the liver and lungs are injured. It is truly inadvisable to labor in mind or body further. Best would be to have no mental burdens, recuperate for several days, and supplement with medicinal foods.”

Zhu Nanxian asked again: “Did falling into the water earlier injure her fundamentally?”

The imperial physician said: “Oh, that’s nothing serious. Though she caught some chill, fortunately Your Highness rescued her in time. This subject will write a prescription to regulate Magistrate Su’s condition and all will be well.”

Only then did Zhu Nanxian feel relieved. He had the imperial physician write the prescription, then ordered everyone to withdraw.

The side chamber quieted. Zhu Nanxian stood before the couch with hands clasped behind his back, silently watching Su Jin.

The daylight was mostly blocked by the screen. Wind pouring in from the west window made the candle flames sputter. The woven brilliance of firelight shone on Su Jin, washing away her usual aloofness entirely, leaving only three parts tenderness.

Only, unfortunately, her brows were still slightly furrowed.

Zhu Nanxian extended his finger, wanting to help smooth her brow, but his fingertip stopped half an inch from her forehead, afraid of disturbing her.

His finger joints were distinct, with thick calluses on the tiger’s mouth and finger pads. Though clearly the hands of a martial artist, they were still long and jade-like—obviously accustomed to privilege and comfort.

But Su Jin was not, Zhu Nanxian thought. When he changed her clothes earlier, he had seen scars large and small on her body. Some had faded considerably, others still winding and fierce.

Each one lodged in his throat like a bone.

Zhu Nanxian even wondered—did those old generals who had campaigned for decades have as many scars on their bodies as Su Jin?

Moreover, she was a woman.

He had never imagined she would be a woman.

That quality of clear wind and bright moon—even men rarely possessed it. How could she be a woman?

Zhu Nanxian felt his brain had knotted again. He struggled to untie it, but the knot only tightened more.

So much so that when Su Jin awoke, she saw Zhu Nanxian standing before the couch, looking at her with an expression of deep bitterness and resentment.

Su Jin suddenly woke from deep sleep. In the instant of waking, everything from her dreams was completely forgotten.

She abruptly sat up, first glancing at the changed long jacket on her body, then at Zhu Nanxian standing dumbstruck before the couch. She immediately turned and dropped to the floor on both knees, pressed her lips together, and simply said: “This subject deserves death.”

Zhu Nanxian had not yet recovered from the emotion of being caught peeping when he was shocked by Su Jin’s magnificent spirit of waking from a great dream ready to impeach herself and seek death. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak a complete sentence: “You, I, this… Ah, my head aches…”

Zhu Nanxian felt he needed a moment to collect himself. He sat on the sleeping couch, saw Su Jin still kneeling on the floor, and wanted to help her up. He reached out, then remembered she was a woman and feared truly touching her would be disrespectful.

After much deliberation, he could only say again: “You sit down.” A pause: “No, you come up and lie down.” Thinking this even more wrong, he took a breath and said: “What this prince means to say is, you lie down properly first and let this prince kneel.”

Su Jin raised her eyes and looked at him with an astonished expression.

Zhu Nanxian felt that the more he spoke, the more mistakes he made. Better to act directly. At the moment, he couldn’t care about the differences between men and women. He reached under her arms, lifted and placed her on the couch, then hooked a stool over with his foot to sit down. After a heavy sigh, he finally asked: “Like this, have you thought about what you’ll do in the future?”

Su Jin looked around at the clear, elegant and quiet surroundings. Zhu Nanxian also showed no intention of prosecuting her. After thinking it through, she said: “This subject only remembers falling into the water. May I ask Your Highness, who rescued this subject?”

Only then did Zhu Nanxian recount everything that happened after Su Jin fell into the water. He excused her from kneeling in thanks, saying: “This prince is also at fault. In the panic, I didn’t see clearly if anyone discovered your identity. However, in this prince’s view, the palace servants and maids of the front palace hall definitely don’t know. The guards at Chengtian Gate probably didn’t see either. I only fear two who jumped into the water after this prince and were close by. But rest assured, this prince will handle it properly.”

Su Jin nodded slightly: “Great kindness need not be spoken in thanks.” Then she remembered what she had realized before falling into the water—the key to Chao Qing’s disappearance. She said to Zhu Nanxian: “Thirteenth Prince, is that death row prisoner named Zhang Kui still at Your Highness’s residence? Could you lend him to this subject for a day?”

Zhu Nanxian frowned: “The imperial physician said your long illness hasn’t healed precisely because you toil too much. Rest first. Whatever needs doing, this prince will order people to handle it.”

Su Jin shook her head: “This matter is of great importance. This subject cannot rest easy if it’s delayed even a moment.”

Seeing her unusually resolute, Zhu Nanxian could only say: “Fine.” Then he fell silent, raised his hand to point at the railing on one side of the sleeping couch, averted his gaze, and said very awkwardly: “You should put that on first, lest someone easily discern your identity.” He paused, then added: “It’s, it’s been dried over the brazier.”

Su Jin looked to the side and saw it was her binding cloth.

Just then, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, among them Zhu Minda’s cold rebuke: “That unfilial wretch brought the person here?”

—

Author’s Note: I saw in yesterday’s comments that Brother Liu has had relatively few scenes lately.

These chapters indeed have fewer, but it’s not that I’m favoring Thirteen. This story is written with the female lead as the main thread, from the perspectives of the female lead, male lead one, and male lead two. Those with fewer scenes will have more later—there’s a reason they’re listed in the main character lineup.