The Emperor came over in the afternoon and entered the Princess’s chamber, the door shut firmly behind him.

Not until long after darkness had fallen did Liang Chen and Xie Yuzhang’s personal handmaid, standing guard at the door, hear the Emperor instruct them through the door to prepare some “light and easy food.”

Xie Yuzhang’s handmaid was nothing if not thorough — she had long since anticipated that the Princess’s secret would come to light and that she would likely endure a bout of rigorous ordeal. She had ordered the kitchen to prepare a pot of meat broth well in advance. The moment the Emperor called out, it was brought up at once.

The Emperor did not allow them to enter.

The chamber door creaked open. The Emperor, draped in his robe with his chest bare, reached out with one hand to receive the tray, then slammed the door shut again with a resonating clang.

The handmaid and Liang Chen exchanged a glance, each sighing in turn.

The handmaid lowered her voice. “I’ll keep watch here. Elder Brother, go and eat first.”

Liang Chen waved her off. “You go first, Younger Sister. Eat more — who knows when this will be over.”

The handmaid covered her mouth with her sleeve to stifle a laugh and hurried off to eat.

Li Gu brought the tray over and took a look. The incense burner had fallen to the floor. The heavy brocade tablecloth had also slipped off, covering Xie Yuzhang’s scattered garments on the ground. Her bodice wrapping had been taken by him to wipe things and was now crumpled into a ball.

The table surface was still marked with spots and streaks here and there.

Li Gu therefore placed the meal tray on the small side table beside the sitting couch. He walked to the bedside and lifted the bed curtain. “Eat something.”

Xie Yuzhang lay with her snowy back exposed, marked all over with bite marks, and let out a few weak, feeble whimpers without moving.

Amusement appeared in Li Gu’s eyes. He wrapped her in the quilt and picked her up, carrying her all the way to the sitting couch and letting her sit in his lap. He picked up the meat broth and brought it to her lips.

Xie Yuzhang drank half the bowl from his hand, and then rinsed her mouth with tea also from his hand, before recovering a trace of vitality. Wrapped in the quilt and leaning against his chest, she watched him finish off an entire pot of meat broth.

The entire pot gone, yet his lower abdomen remained perfectly flat, not the slightest bulge — where all that food had gone to was a mystery.

Xie Yuzhang touched and touched again. His waist and abdomen were taut, his muscles springy and resilient — that was how he had such powerful endurance. The sensation was irresistible.

Li Gu also rinsed his mouth, and said, “Don’t rush. Let things settle.”

Xie Yuzhang made a disdainful sound at him, then asked, “How did the Imperial Lecture go today?”

Li Gu said, “Smoothly.”

Xie Yuzhang drew her hand back, tucked herself securely in the quilt, and said, “Yet this being only the first trial examination, don’t have too great expectations for what the outcome will be. Among those who ultimately pass, the sons of noble families will inevitably win by an overwhelming margin.”

“I know,” Li Gu said, holding her. “I’m not anxious. My teacher isn’t either. He said long ago that this is not something one generation can accomplish.”

“Indeed. The most prosperous period of the previous dynasty was the reign of Emperor Wen, yet that era of great peace was built on Emperor Wu’s having swept away enemy threats first, followed by Emperor Kang’s policy of non-interference and peaceful comfort for the people — and only then could Emperor Wen’s era of great peace flourish,” Xie Yuzhang said. “I’ve noticed something about you — you’re not hasty or impetuous. Your patience is actually exceptionally good.”

Li Gu said, “Yes, my patience is exceptionally good.”

Having said this, he lowered his head and caught Xie Yuzhang’s lips.

These rosy lips — how many days and nights of waiting had he paid before being able to savor them as freely as he wished.

When he released her, those red lips were already lightly swollen, still gleaming with a faint luster. Li Gu pecked at them a few more times and then asked, “For the six betrothal rites, will your second uncle serve as respondent on your family’s behalf?”

Xie Yuzhang stared. “…”

That leap in train of thought was rather substantial.

Xie Yuzhang said, “He is my true uncle, and moreover — the fact that I bear the Xie surname cannot be sidestepped.”

Li Gu said, “I am marrying the legitimate princess of the Zhao dynasty. Her birth is distinguished — there is no need to sidestep anything.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “The matter of my second marriage will inevitably be raised.”

Li Gu said, “They are welcome to try.”

“Yuzhang, you needn’t worry about any of these matters. I will handle everything,” Li Gu said, gently stroking her face. “You simply await the wedding in peace and wait for me to come and marry you.”

Xie Yuzhang stroked his handsome chin and lightly kissed his throat, saying, “All right.”

That throat rippled slightly.

Li Gu said not a word. He pushed the side table to one side…

The handmaid, hurrying back after finishing her meal, passed beneath the window and heard the sounds of her own mistress, the Princess, whimpering.

“Your Majesty, please spare this concubine.” The Princess was yielding and begging for mercy.

“I will not spare you,” the Emperor was coldly merciless. “Your crime is unpardonable.”

The Princess’s whimpers rose again, intermittent, with a peculiar rhythm. Then abruptly the sound changed pitch — as if something was pressed against it to block it.

Well, those who play with fire get burned.

Serves her right.

The handmaid covered her mouth to stifle a laugh and ran all the way back. “Liang Chen, Elder Brother, you go and eat quickly.”

Xie Yuzhang had not gone to be a bystander at the Imperial Lecture, but Xie Baozhu had. She changed into men’s clothing and was brought in by Li Weifeng.

Even dressed in men’s clothing, that face of Xie Baozhu’s — clearly a beautiful young lady, plain for all to see. But with a distinguished and prominent personage accompanying and protecting her, no one dared say anything.

Li Weifeng dozed on and off the whole time, pushing himself to accompany Xie Baozhu through the entire event.

After the Emperor withdrew and the Imperial Lecture dispersed, Li Weifeng still felt his head spinning.

He looked up, however, to see Xie Baozhu’s jet-black eyes bright and shining — she was visibly still wanting more. He was at a loss for words for quite a while, then said, “You enjoyed it that much?”

“Of course,” Xie Baozhu said. “Words as blades, ideas colliding — how splendid.”

This entire group of people had spent a whole day speaking in an incomprehensible manner, every last one of them spouting classical quotations. Li Weifeng’s head had gone dizzy from it all. Hearing her high praise now, Li Weifeng could only grumble inwardly — knowing, of course, that he could not truly voice it and expose his ignorance — and so only said, “Next time there is one, I’ll bring you along again.”

Xie Baozhu sighed. “An event of such grandeur — how could it come about so easily on any ordinary day? If it truly could come about often, it would mean Da Mu was already in an era of great order. I would welcome that day, for then our village could also find its release.”

Li Weifeng could only say, “That day will come, sooner or later.”

In his heart, though, he thought — if Xie Baozhu would agree to become his wife, she could walk out of that village. He could protect her, her father, and her younger brothers for the rest of their lives.

But she was unwilling.

Xie Baozhu was about to board her carriage when Li Weifeng stopped her. “The sun is still high. Why not go and take in the scenery? Today is, after all, the Upper Si Festival.”

Indeed, this was the day — a day when young men and women, those with affections for one another, could openly go on outings.

Xie Baozhu had also not left the Xie family village for a long time. The suggestion stirred her heart. But having been seated all day, her body was tired and weary — she felt she could not walk much — and she hesitated.

Li Weifeng knew what she was thinking. “You can ride my horse.”

Xie Baozhu raised her head and glanced at the horse.

She had never once ridden a horse in her life. It was so tall — how was one to get up?

She was still thinking this when her body suddenly felt as if she were riding a cloud — Li Weifeng effortlessly lifted her and placed her on the horse.

That rascal even said, “You really are light — a pity.”

Xie Baozhu steadied herself by gripping the saddle and shot him a sideways glance.

Li Weifeng said, “Sit steady. I’ll lead you to the riverbank to take in the scenery.”

He gathered up the reins and led the horse for her.

The venue for the Imperial Lecture had been right on the banks of the Qu River — a beautiful scenic spot. The previous dynasty’s imperial clan had been elegant in taste, holding spring banquets here every year on the Upper Si Festival. Li Gu had tidied it up and used it for the Imperial Lecture, which was perfectly fitting.

Li Weifeng had thoroughly shaken off the drowsiness that had plagued him throughout the day and was in excellent spirits as he led the horse for Xie Baozhu.

He turned to look at her from time to time, only to discover that she seemed different from usual — her expression was somewhat tense. Looking again at her posture on the horse, he immediately understood with sudden clarity. “Little Tiger — you can’t ride a horse?”

“I’ve actually wanted to try riding a horse since I was small,” Xie Baozhu said. “Only my mother absolutely would not allow it.”

Li Weifeng knew that her mother had perished in the calamity of war, so he said, “She must have been worried about you.”

Xie Baozhu sighed. “Even if I wanted to take a few extra steps on my own, she wouldn’t permit it. When I went to her upper quarters to pay my respects at home, I had to be carried there in a litter. Otherwise the servants and maids would be punished. You don’t know — she truly was my nemesis.”

Li Weifeng said, “She treasured you like a precious jewel. She must have been afraid that even holding you in her mouth would make you dissolve.”

Xie Baozhu looked out toward the distant surface of the river and was silent for a long time, then said, “She was the person in this world who loved me most.”

Li Weifeng said, “Your father loves you too. Back when I was trying to take you away, he dared charge at me and scratch at me — remarkably unafraid of death.”

This phrase, “remarkably unafraid of death,” was, in truth, a tremendous compliment to Prince Shou. For Prince Shou was, in fact, very much like his elder brother Xiaoyao — an exceedingly death-fearing kind of person.

He had once been a first-rank prince, with a status distinct from that of ordinary Xie family villagers. While ordinary Xie clan members still occasionally left the village to go into town, Prince Shou — though he had once said with his own mouth that he envied the Xiaoyao Marquis’s household and wished he could go live there — had actually, ever since being confined in the Xie family village, been extremely well-behaved and had not once gone beyond the boundaries of the village.

By now it had been six or seven years, and this fear of death had truly reached a transcendent level.

“It is,” Xie Baozhu said. “And so I don’t want to leave him. If you had seen him as he was before, you would know that to see him as he is now… And this body of mine — I don’t know how many years I can live. Certainly fewer than others. For whatever years I have, I’d rather spend them by his side taking care of him.”

“Don’t say such things,” Li Weifeng said. “What’s all this about not knowing how many years you can live? Look at how rosy your complexion is now. When I first met you, you wore a wide-brimmed hat to block the sun every day, and your face was deathly pale. You simply don’t get enough activity and sunlight. Take you out more often in the future, and you’ll certainly live a long life.”

The beautiful spring light fell on this man’s back.

A man in his thirties, of high rank and great power, someone who could strut sideways in the capital. When he led the horse for her and turned his head to look at her, his eyes were bright and cheerful with happiness, innocent as a young man’s.

Xie Baozhu’s heart — cold and indifferent, ignorant of what love was — stirred with a faint ripple.

She looked out toward the shimmering, sparkling river surface, the riverbank thronged with travelers like a woven tapestry. Young ladies in brightly colored garments, young men dancing with swords and reciting poetry, drawing their attention.

After a long while, she drew her gaze back and said, “Li Ziyi, you are a good person.”

Li Weifeng let out a scornful chuckle. “If you say I’m a good person, I don’t know how many people in Yunjing would laugh.”

Xie Baozhu corrected her phrasing. “You are a good person toward me.”

Li Weifeng sighed. “If you insist on putting it that way, then I suppose.”

His manner made Xie Baozhu smile faintly. She said, “If my health were a little better, I wouldn’t mind a brief dalliance with you.”

Xie Baozhu had once been a noble lady of the imperial family. Her views on relations between men and women, and on marriage, had always been different from those of ordinary women.

“Ahem, ahem, ahem, ahem!” Li Weifeng choked on his own breath, then said, “Don’t say such things.”

Xie Baozhu said, “Only, with my health as it is, I dare not act recklessly. I’m even more afraid of conceiving a child — that would shorten my life.”

Li Weifeng said, “I know. You’ve said so much, but you simply don’t want to marry me. I know all of it. Little Tiger, you don’t need to say any more.”

“This is actually pretty good,” he said. “I’m quite content.”

Xie Baozhu said no more, and let this man from the Hexi region lead the horse for her and point out the sparkling, rippling water in the distance.

Li Ziyi was not bad. It was just that, for her to marry him — something was still somehow lacking.

Because the Imperial Lecture had been held, the Emperor graciously granted an extra day of rest on the fourth day of the third month, allowing all officials to rest and relax at home.

The Emperor kept himself and the Princess confined to the chamber for a whole night and a day, and finally left Huichun Plain in the evening of that day and returned to the capital, appearing at Prime Minister Mo’s residence.

“Teacher, I wish to take a wife,” the Emperor said.

Prime Minister Mo laughed. “Has she finally agreed?”

This Confucian master, renowned throughout the land, said, “Your Majesty need not be in a rush. After the examination is over, I will build up support and create momentum on her behalf.”

He added, “The matter of cotton could be brought out to speak of first.”

The Emperor said, “Indeed — her merits should be seen by the whole world.”

The Imperial Tutor smiled with quiet contentment.