That person’s breath quietly blew against her ear, stirring the hair at her temples with a slight tickle. That breath was like spring roses and winter springs, concealing fine thorns and floating with a piercing chill. At first impression it seemed breathtakingly beautiful, but drawing closer meant eternal damnation.
Just like this moment—the sacred imperial carriage had arrived and all were bowing in reverence, yet he leaned against her shoulder in a languid posture that looked truly intimate and audacious. The officials prostrated on the ground all around secretly turned their eyes to look at this “pair of men,” their gazes even more suggestive than Ning Yi’s posture.
Prince Chu’s romantic nature, his reputation for devouring both men and women alike—no one in the Imperial Capital was unaware.
Yet no one knew of the vicious murderous intent beneath his flirtatious manner—he had locked her meridians, preventing her from kneeling.
Not kneeling when the imperial carriage arrived was a grave disrespect—he clearly intended to kill with a borrowed blade, wanting the imperial palace guards to drag her out immediately and execute her for the crime of grave disrespect to the Emperor.
The bright yellow imperial carriage had faintly appeared beside the wide-open main gate. At this moment when everyone was kneeling, Feng Zhiwei sat conspicuously like a crane among chickens, and people’s astonished gazes began shooting toward her.
Feng Zhiwei lowered her eyes to meet that face so close at hand—a visage like spring wind, eyes with the lustrous gleam of glass beads like ice pearls, and deep within those eyes, a trace of a sinister smile.
She suddenly smiled, sitting calmly without urgency or impatience. “…Because this commoner was thinking about facing death together with Your Highness and broke out in an excited sweat.”
“Oh?”
“Your Highness wouldn’t truly think that last night this commoner merely intruded rashly, would you?” Feng Zhiwei said leisurely. “The secret tower deeply concealed, mechanisms upon mechanisms—could someone really stumble in there by mistake?”
Her tone was calm, but her eyes stared intently at the main gate where the bright yellow dragon banner at the very front was already fluttering into view. The sacred carriage would arrive at any moment.
Ning Yi’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened somewhat. This was precisely why he hadn’t immediately struck just now. On one hand, it wasn’t convenient for him to silence her in this kind of setting; on the other hand, he worried that Feng Zhiwei had other backing.
And now that Feng Zhiwei brought it up without any hesitation, it deepened his suspicion even more. Once Feng Zhiwei had a mastermind behind her, he would have to trace the vine to find the root. In that case, this young man’s life—
He pondered briefly. The orderly footsteps of the Imperial Forest Guard were already approaching, their iron-blue armor flashing cold gleams in the morning sunlight as they bore down intimidatingly. The guards at the very front could already see everything in the arena, sweeping the scene with eagle-like sharp gazes, searching for any signs or persons unfavorable to His Majesty’s safety. Their gazes were about to sweep toward the officials’ pavilion—
“That batch of underground extraordinary soldiers—what did they go do last night, and where are they now?” Feng Zhiwei turned her eyes away from the main gate and began looking around contentedly. “Hey, I have several classmates from the Political History Academy and Military Academy—why do they seem not to have come today?”
Ning Yi’s eyes flashed, and he suddenly gave a cold laugh.
Before the cold laugh finished, his hand pushed. Feng Zhiwei only felt her whole body lighten and her legs go weak as she involuntarily pitched forward, her forehead touching the ground.
At this moment, the guards’ gazes had just turned toward the officials’ pavilion.
And mountain-calling voices arose as everyone prostrated themselves in the dust.
Feng Zhiwei lay on the ground, the sweat in her palms instantly dampening the floor tiles.
Beside her, moon-white robes embroidered with silver bamboo in an elegant pattern spread out. Ning Yi knelt beside her and said in a low but clear voice amid the deafening mountain-calling: “How many more companions do you have? What are they doing now? What exactly were you trying to do last night?”
Feng Zhiwei turned her head and smiled at him. “Your Highness, you haven’t suddenly become stupid, have you? Do you think I would tell you now?”
His eyes flashed. Ning Yi smiled. “Telling me later is also fine… I just fear you won’t last until that moment.”
The bright yellow imperial carriage had already passed. He reached out, seemingly intimately helping Feng Zhiwei up. Feng Zhiwei didn’t avoid him either, openly allowing him to assist her—after all, her life was in his hands anyway. What did it matter if he took a little advantage?
Their two hands touched. Feng Zhiwei was calm, but Ning Yi suddenly froze—just now he had only felt her palm cold and covered in cold sweat. Now that the cold sweat had gone, with this touch he felt the delicate texture of her palm, soft and cool as jade. The size of that hand and the feeling of holding it somehow seemed familiar.
He wanted to lift her hand to look at it again, but Feng Zhiwei had already withdrawn her hand and turned her head to smile at him.
As she smiled, her gaze was warm and soft, which stirred his heart again. With that stirring came vigilance as he remembered that the person before him had a scheming, clever, and cunning mind. His eyes immediately turned cold again.
The two sat as before. Feng Zhiwei suddenly saw Yan Huaishi standing diagonally across from them, looking at her with a strange expression. Immediately overjoyed, she quietly rummaged at her side and pulled out the sleeve of her light blue undergarment, waving it at Yan Huaishi.
Yan Huaishi looked at her with seemingly puzzled expression. Feng Zhiwei grew anxious and pulled the garment out a bit more—blue clothing—Nan clothing—
Someone beside her suddenly asked, “What are you doing?”
Feng Zhiwei immediately tucked away the sleeve and sat properly. “Hot. Cooling down.”
Ning Yi looked at her with a half-smile—truly rare to find someone who could lie with their eyes wide open without any shame. This was spring in the third month, cool in the morning—how could it be hot?
His gaze fell, and somehow landed on her neck. The academy followed the style of the Tiansheng nation and the romantic customs of the Academy Head, so students’ clothing all had wide collars that half-exposed the collarbone. Feng Zhiwei had originally covered herself strictly, but just now when pulling out her undergarment to signal, she had pulled her collar wide open. She herself had been busy with her schemes and hadn’t paid attention, so now she unknowingly fed Ning Yi’s eyes.
Her white neck was like jade, though calling it jade seemed too stiff—it was more like freshly peeled fox nuts or new cotton velvet, revealing three parts softness, one part tenderness, one part radiance that captured both daylight brilliance and moonlight crystalline moisture. Below it, her collarbone was slender, so slender that one felt even the weight of a gaze falling upon it would be too heavy and crushing. And the skin beneath the collarbone made one feel it was thin and translucent, like the most precious porcelain from a famous kiln. Following that skin downward, there was a slight…
Ning Yi’s gaze suddenly focused, but in that moment Feng Zhiwei had already noticed. She immediately reached up to brush her hair, blocking his view. When her hand fell from her temple, she had already unobtrusively straightened her collar.
She lowered her eyes to look at her collar, inwardly exclaiming how close that was, while also wondering whether her chest binding had come loose. Ning Yi hadn’t just seen something, had he?
Amid all this activity, she glanced across to the opposite side—Yan Huaishi was already gone. Feng Zhiwei felt both worried and hopeful, not knowing whether Yan Huaishi had understood her meaning or not.
At this time, the imperial carriage and the various princes and nobles had already entered the main hall and taken their seats behind white gauze. From the roll call she could hear that everyone had come completely, except that the Fifth Prince hadn’t come—the Emperor, Crown Prince, and all the princes were present.
Xin Ziyan was still in flowing wide sleeves, waving a folding fan despite the not-hot weather as he went forward to give his address, graceful and at ease. This was completely different from the wretched state when he fell from the brothel wall that day, nor could one see any trace of him harboring any wicked schemes. Feng Zhiwei looked at him, but her gaze penetrated the white gauze. Behind the white gauze were the most noble and important group of people in the Tiansheng imperial court. And after today, what would happen?
Just like the person beside her—who exactly was his target? It absolutely couldn’t be everyone. He didn’t control military power, and although the nine districts’ forces of the capital’s eighteen thousand men were nominally under his command, the authority to deploy troops was in the Crown Prince’s hands. The twenty thousand Eternal Tassel Guards protecting the imperial palace were under the Seventh Prince’s responsibility. Twenty li outside the capital was the garrison camp protecting the Imperial Capital. With just those people from last night, attempting to move against everyone would be seeking death.
Then, the Emperor? The Crown Prince? A formidable enemy among the princes?
Moving against the Emperor was definitely not wise. The Crown Prince? Ning Yi had always been considered part of the Crown Prince’s faction—if the Crown Prince were lost, wouldn’t he lose his backing? The other princes? As long as the Emperor and Crown Prince were still there, what use was moving against the other princes?
And why would Xin Ziyan willingly risk such grave offense to be involved in this heaven-defying great conspiracy? He and Ning Yi had first been close as brothers, then pretended to be distant. And these years Ning Yi had concealed his talents and maintained a low profile at court, and in the palace he wasn’t favored by the Emperor, repeatedly suffering rebukes. Given the current situation, was this happening because he couldn’t bear the pressure and went with the flow, or was it premeditated and prepared for many years?
Feng Zhiwei’s thoughts rose and fell with a hundred doubts, but on stage everything was harmonious and joyful, proceeding according to plan. The students of the Political History Academy and Military Academy were divided into two groups, taking turns performing before the platform in order. These students had already been recommended by teachers and selected in the previous three days, but Feng Zhiwei and the others had missed it because of the dining hall incident.
By now, she had already understood that she wasn’t implicated by Gu Nanyi, but by Lin Shao—Xin Ziyan had simply wanted to use that confinement to restrain the Lin brothers, waiting until after seven days when all dust had settled.
Precisely because of this, Feng Zhiwei could no longer participate in the scholarly examination now. Violating academy rules before the sovereign could very well also be a capital offense.
The scholarly examination began with the political history category, divided into three procedures: on-the-spot policy essays, classics lectures, and poetry composition, administered by academy teachers and Hanlin Academy compilers. Feng Zhiwei listened to those eloquent speakers citing classics extensively, her heart in turmoil.
Suddenly she heard a low commotion, followed by someone exclaiming in surprise: “The Golden Scroll!”
The tone was envious yet also helpless.
Feng Zhiwei raised her eyes to look. Inside the window behind the white gauze stood a eunuch, holding in his hands a soft, long scroll of golden silk.
Even Ning Yi showed a surprised expression, murmuring, “The old master has brought that thing out again…” And all around, exclamations continued endlessly.
The Golden Scroll, also called the Scroll of Excellence, contained three strange questions from the world. It was said that anyone who could answer them would surely be an unparalleled talent of the nation, and obtaining such a person could bring peace to the realm. This was a wondrous scroll passed down by the founding emperor of the Great Cheng dynasty, transmitted through successive generations. Over many years it had long since become renowned throughout the world.
The founding emperor of Great Cheng was astoundingly talented. It was said that because his school was affiliated with the Celestial Vault Divine Temple, he also possessed unfathomable divine powers, and thus had always been revered by emperors of successive generations. What he passed down was naturally extraordinary. Throughout the ages, the Scroll of Excellence had been treasured in the imperial palace. After Great Cheng’s fall, this treasure belonging to Great Cheng became Tiansheng’s possession. The Tiansheng Emperor also seemed to greatly admire the mysterious founding emperor of Great Cheng. Almost every imperial examination palace test, scholarly examination, and various important essay occasions, he would take out the Scroll of Excellence to test the talented individuals of the realm. But never once had anyone succeeded—people couldn’t even understand the questions.
Later on, the Scroll of Excellence became synonymous with the insurmountable. Scholars throughout the realm looked up to it with longing, yet it remained beyond reach.
Also because of too many disappointments, the Emperor gradually grew weary. Afterward he issued an imperial edict: those without confidence in answering the Scroll of Excellence must not rashly claim they could try, otherwise they would be executed for the crime of deceiving the sovereign. Once the edict was issued, from then on no one dared risk their life to attempt the Scroll of Excellence.
Taking it out at this time was more symbolic than practical, just for show.
The Scroll of Excellence woven of golden silk fluttered in the wind like a golden ladder to the blue clouds, tempting to the eye. Everyone’s gazes were burning with desire as they craned their necks, yet didn’t dare approach.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart suddenly stirred.
At this point, trying to keep a low profile was no longer possible. Between dying immediately and standing out which might attract disaster, she would rather choose the latter.
Life or death—might as well take this gamble. If not smashed to pieces at the bottom of a cliff, then it would be a broad road on level ground.
Ning Yi, you forced me to this—
On stage, the Golden Scroll fluttered in the wind. The eunuch holding it had his arms so tired they ached. Then he heard the Emperor say indifferently from behind the curtain, “It seems this year will have the same result again. Put it away.”
The eunuch was about to put it away when he suddenly heard someone below call out loudly, “I’ll do it!”
In the officials’ pavilion, a slender youth in blue clothing suddenly stood up resolutely, standing against the wind with sleeves fluttering—it was Feng Zhiwei.
She stood calmly in the burning gazes of ten thousand people, not rushing forward immediately, but first turning around. Toward Ning Yi, who wanted to stop her yet couldn’t, and whose brow was therefore furrowed in deep thought, she smiled.
This smile was gentle as before, but beneath the gentleness, a resolute and sharp quality suddenly emerged. This was the domineering presence hidden deep in her character, only naturally revealed when facing desperate straits—though ten thousand oppose me, I shall go forth, so you just watch obediently—
Your Highness, thank you for the hospitality. Farewell, farewell.