The second floor was half empty.

The decision to take books during the family’s confiscation had been Grandmother’s. For the sake of future generations, she had taken primarily historical texts and classical volumes. The personal journals left by the Hua family ancestors, however, she had taken very few of.

And it was precisely those journals — Hua Jingyan’s personal journals — that Hua Zhi had come for.

She knew the arrangement of this library intimately. Without any searching, she went directly to a spot and drew out several volumes. She leafed through them and passed them over. “Look through these and see if there are any records pertaining to the Chaoli tribe.”

Hua Jingyan had been born into a scholarly family — one that had quietly preserved its literary traditions even under the crushing oppression of the Chaoli kingdom. He had been gifted with keen intelligence, and in the end had decisively cast aside the brush to take up arms. That Gu Ning Pei could conquer all before him and contend for the empire — Hua Jingyan deserved much of the credit.

The world knew Hua Jingyan as a brilliant man, but Hua Zhi had always sensed that his nature actually carried a streak of comfortable idleness. Reading books, sipping tea each day, and, if fortunate enough to have three or five good friends for poetry recitation and leisurely conversation about beautiful things — that was the life he had truly wanted. This was plain enough from the journals he had left behind.

Of the twenty-eight journals in total, a full twenty-three were collections of poetry and prose. The remainder included miscellaneous notes and travel writings — only one could loosely be connected to those old events of the past. It seemed he had been in a particularly unhurried mood when writing that one, for the brushwork was somewhat loose, and he had gone through the strengths and weaknesses of what had once been their greatest enemy one by one. He then recounted several battles he had personally witnessed, describing not only the strategies used to repel those enemies, but also writing out one, two, three methods for breaking through their defenses — along with various side observations jotted casually in the margins, which, viewed now, might well prove useful still.

A smile crossed the Crown Prince’s face. “At least this trip has not been made in vain.”

Out of habit, Hua Zhi smoothed out every crease she had inadvertently pressed into a page before returning the other journals to their places. This small gesture caused something to tighten in the Crown Prince’s chest. Teacher Hua loved books as deeply as this — how pained she must have been when she stepped into the Library Tower and saw books strewn across the ground.

Sweeping her gaze around the room, Hua Zhi picked up the remaining volume. “Let us go back.”

Hua Lin Lane. A figure had been waiting there for some time. When the group emerged, he stepped out from the shadow of a carriage.

Shao Yao ran toward him. “Yan-ge.”

Hua Zhi watched with a calm expression as Lai Fu reaffixed the seal strips before turning back. When her gaze met the one directed at her, she did not look away — she simply met it for a moment, then shifted her eyes elsewhere. “The hour is late. His Highness should return.”

The Crown Prince had intended to see Teacher Hua back to the Hua household before returning to the palace, but since Shizi had come, there was no need for him to worry further. “Teacher Hua need not be concerned. I have hidden guards with me — I am perfectly safe.”

Hua Zhi gave a small nod, indicating that Shao Yao should go along with him. She did not trust the hidden guards; she trusted only her own people.

Shao Yao, though she wanted to stay close to Hua Hua, knew this was not the moment for selfishness. She pressed herself against Hua Hua for a moment, rubbing her cheek against her, before following the Crown Prince away.

Hua Bailin glanced back and forth between the two remaining figures, touched his nose, and bowed his head, doing his best impression of a wooden post. Even for the sake of his elder sister’s reputation, he could not very well excuse himself.

Gu Yanxi walked over and, without giving her any opportunity to refuse, draped the cloak in his hands over Hua Zhi’s shoulders. The length fit her perfectly — it was clear he had brought it with this in mind.

“The capital is not entirely safe. I was worried.”

Hua Zhi tightened her grip on the volume in her hands. Anger still lingered in her heart, yet she could not bring herself to bear his being so careful and guarded in front of her.

She climbed into the carriage in silence, then lifted the curtain and looked out at the man standing there. “Get in.”

Gu Yanxi’s eyes brightened. He stepped in with two or three quick strides. Hua Bailin took a seat up on the carriage frame and smiled at the driver Chen Qing, who greeted him with a bow.

The stillness of the night made the turning of the wheels sound remarkably loud. Hua Zhi had never grown fond of carriage travel, which so faithfully reflected every bump and hollow in the road beneath. Her own carriage was always layered with cushioning, one pad atop another. But sitting in this carriage now, she found it equally soft — which told her he had thought of this as well, unwilling to let her be uncomfortable even in such small matters.

Resting against the inner wall of the carriage, Hua Zhi passed the volume over. “This is all we found.”

Gu Yanxi felt joy and heartache at once. A chest full of tenderness and helplessness surged up together, wanting to be expressed and yet finding no words that felt adequate.

“Do not grow distant from the Empress Dowager. If it had been me in her position, I might well have done worse than she did.”

Gu Yanxi stared down at the volume, the brushwork too faint to make out, his eyes unreadable. He wanted to say he had not grown distant from his grandmother — yet the truth was that beyond his daily ritual visits, he had not exchanged a single unnecessary word with her.

Everyone had been left without a choice. But what had Ah-Zhi done to deserve any of it?

“It has always been easy to share hardship and difficult to share prosperity. And this is only the beginning.”

“Why no hatred?”

“How do you know I do not hate?” The corner of Hua Zhi’s mouth curved into an arc without warmth. “Must I make my hatred known to the entire world?”

Gu Yanxi shook his head gently. “What you carry is not hatred. Others’ resentment has more force than your hatred.”

“Force applied in the right place is force. Otherwise it is only wasted effort. And have I wasted my effort? After a confiscation and exile, the Hua family remains the family that scholars across the land look up to and trust — the reputation of every one of us, man or woman, young or old, has not suffered the slightest blemish. I, a woman, was conferred the title of Imperial Tutor. The Crown Prince is my student. The Empress Dowager feels she owes me a debt. As for you — you fall just short of handing over your life. Every ounce of my effort has brought me an abundant return.”

And yet it has consumed every last ounce of your strength. Gu Yanxi drew her toward him so she could rest against his shoulder — yet when the wheels rolled over a pebble, she was jolted all the same. It was just as he had always been: wanting to shield her from the wind and rain, wanting her to be spared every jolt and bump, yet in the end only drawing her deeper into it and multiplying her suffering.

All of it had come from him. Even his tender concern felt somehow like it came with ill intent.

He looked down at Ah-Zhi, who had closed her eyes in feigned sleep. Gu Yanxi swallowed the bitterness that filled him, along with every word he had not finished saying.

The carriage came to a stop. Hua Zhi stepped down, drawing the cloak tighter around her shoulders. “Copy out that journal — the original must be returned.”

“I understand.”

Hua Zhi walked through the gate without looking back, her spine straight and unyielding, stubborn from every angle.

Hua Bailin performed a proper, courteous bow, then said in an undertone, lightly teasing: “It appears my elder sister does not intend to invite Shizi in this evening. You may head back, please.”

Gu Yanxi flicked him on the forehead. “A few days in the palace and you’ve picked up all their affected formality.”

Hua Bailin laughed with unabashed amusement, but had no intention of reverting to his old form of address. Some things had to be minded now — too many eyes were watching the Hua family.

Gu Yanxi had evidently thought of the same thing and did not press the matter. “Go inside. You still need to enter the palace tomorrow morning. Look after your elder sister properly.”

Hua Bailin hesitated, then looked at the journal in his hands and asked, “Are you truly going to take over for General Sun?”

Gu Yanxi was not surprised he had guessed. Bailin had always been sharp. “Can you find anyone else suited for the role?”

Hua Bailin had spent his days in the palace studying the military commanders alongside the Crown Prince until he knew them thoroughly. It was precisely because he knew the state of things that his heart felt so heavy. The great nation of Daqing — and not a single reliable military commander to be found.

“Enough. These are not matters for you to trouble yourself over yet. Go inside.”