Everyone attending the birthday banquet was a person of noble standing, so eating and drinking here was handled with particular care — even the bowls, chopsticks, and teapots were all made of silver, just to avoid any mishaps.

And yet, what was bound to happen, happened. The Han family’s second son, Han Shuang’s younger brother Han Tianyong, was suddenly found dead in the western courtyard, a knife wound across his throat, blood everywhere.

Situ Feng, who had been with him, claimed to know nothing — said he’d simply gotten drowsy, fallen asleep, and woken up to find a corpse beside him. No one was going to believe an excuse like that. Lady Han wept until the sky seemed to darken, and the whole estate fell into a state of panic.

Zhou Heshuo, seething with cold fury, waved a hand to have the matter suppressed for now and sent the Han family away from the banquet.

After all, this banquet had been prepared for the Fifth Prince’s sake — how could it simply stop because of some sudden, unexpected incident? Even if it meant papering over the cracks, the appearance of peace still had to be maintained.

But the Han family didn’t see it that way. The Crown Prince already had a rift with the Grand Princess, and now the Han family — those closest to the Grand Princess — had someone die right under the watch of the Crown Prince’s own retainer. It looked, plainly, like deliberate murder.

And so, less than an hour after the Han family left, the estate was surrounded by the Imperial Guard.

Huayue hid together with the other women in the back hall, surrounded by anxious wives and young ladies.

“What in the world is going on?” Chaofeng frowned deeply. “Even a banquet hosted by the Crown Prince himself, and they still dare to surround it? Have they got a death wish?”

Mingshu had sobered up from the wine. Standing on tiptoe, peering at the commotion outside, she said in a low voice, “If it were anyone else surrounding this place, that would be a death wish. But this time, it’s not even clear who’s making trouble for whom.”

Huayue stood between the two of them looking utterly innocent, still holding half a handful of sunflower seeds.

Chaofeng found this baffling and asked her, “Aren’t you nervous?”

She let out a blank “Ah” and asked in return, “What happened?”

Chaofeng and Mingshu exchanged a glance, shook their heads in unison, and shielded her behind them. “You just eat your seeds slowly. We’ll keep watch — even if the Imperial Guard comes this way, they won’t disturb your snacking.”

Truly so gentle, Huayue thought as she cracked open a seed. Just for their kindness, if Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe ever went to Qifeng Tower again in the future, she’d pass word along to them too.

From somewhere in the distance came a heart-wrenching wail, sounding rather eerie. Chaofeng flinched, and Mingshu drew her in as well, comforting her softly. “Don’t be afraid. They should come find us soon.”

The men, though usually reckless and careless, were all protective of their own. With the estate in such turmoil, a group of women huddled together would do little good — it was still safest to be by their sides.

Sure enough, not long after Chaofeng said this, Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe hurried over, pulling the three women out of the crowd, breathing sighs of relief.

“You should take the carriage and leave first,” Xu Changyi said. “You can still get out through the back gate.”

Liu Chenghe didn’t quite agree, and before he could object, Mingshu spoke first. “This is the Fifth Prince’s birthday banquet. Leaving without a word would be a disrespect to both him and the Crown Prince. Even if it secures our safety for now, it’ll leave people talking down the road.”

Xu Changyi looked mildly annoyed. “You have so many opinions — then why were you trembling with fear just now?”

Mingshu smiled lightly. “That was because I hadn’t seen you yet. Now that I have, naturally I’m not afraid anymore. We can think this through carefully.”

Secretly pleased by the trust shining in her eyes, Xu Changyi coughed, pressing a fist to his lips. “If you don’t want to leave, that’s fine too. Just stay by my side. With the man of the house present, no one would dare offend you.”

Liu Chenghe nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean too. You take Mingshu, I’ll take Chaofeng, and we’ll head over near the main hall — borrow a bit of the Crown Prince’s protection. That way this chaos won’t land on us.”

The four of them, having agreed on this plan, all turned in unison to look at Yin Huayue.

Huayue, holding a sunflower seed, felt a touch of awkwardness.

Li Jingyun hadn’t come — given his standing with Zhou Heshuo, he likely wouldn’t be able to spare a moment for her right now.

Chaofeng realized the problem too and opened her mouth. “Huayue, why don’t you just come with—”

“Come with me,” a voice cut in from the side, clear and bright, catching the sentence perfectly.

The group turned in curiosity and saw a youth in a moonlight-white brocade robe approaching, smiling as he stopped beside Huayue. “None of you have time to spare. I do — I can look after her.”

The corner of her eye twitched. Huayue instinctively pressed a hand to her stomach, which still ached faintly from laughing earlier, and said warily, “It’s you again?”

Zhou Hemin looked deeply wounded, his sword-shaped brows drooping, saying mournfully, “You never once blamed yourself for giving me away and getting me caught, forced to sit in place for a whole hour as punishment. Why do you dislike me instead?”

“It’s not that I dislike you.” She eyed him strangely. “It’s just that we met by chance and barely know each other, yet the noble one is being so attentive — that’s suspicious, if not outright improper.”

Zhou Hemin’s jaw dropped. “I… improper?”

He looked as though he’d suffered some great blow, turning to Xu Changyi in disbelief. “Do I look like a bad person to you?”

Xu Changyi’s face turned faintly green. He stared blankly at the two of them for a long moment before stammering, “That… that couldn’t be. Your Highness carries the aura of dragons, a man of destiny — how could such a word ever apply to you?”

Liu Chenghe forced a laugh too, shooting Huayue a look before cupping his hands. “Our little sister-in-law rarely leaves the house and doesn’t recognize people. Please forgive any offense, Your Highness.”

Huayue watched them, thinking that these two carefree young masters rarely looked this flustered — it seemed the person beside her was no small matter.

After a moment’s reaction, confusion rose in her eyes. “You just said… Fifth Prince?”

Chaofeng was amused by her slow reaction, pinching her arm lightly to whisper a reminder. “This is the current Fifth Prince. Today is his fifteenth birthday.”

Hearing this, Huayue’s face turned even greener than Xu Changyi’s. She turned to look at him, her eye twitching harder still.

How could this be the Fifth Prince? Shouldn’t the star of the birthday banquet be by the Crown Prince’s side, or seated in the main hall? Why was he wandering around here, striking up conversation with someone like her, a servant?

Zhou Hemin’s long-suppressed heart finally found a shred of comfort in her flustered expression. “So you didn’t recognize me.”

How was she supposed to recognize the Fifth Prince of Great Liang? Huayue smiled through gritted teeth — this man had no plaque hanging on his forehead, wasn’t wearing dragon-patterned robes; was she really supposed to sense the “dragon aura” surrounding him and bow accordingly?

To hell with it.

“This lowly girl has been most disrespectful.” She knelt with genuine trepidation. “Please forgive this offense, Your Highness.”

Her posture was low enough, her tone sincere enough with apology, that whoever heard it wouldn’t have the nerve to make things difficult for her anymore.

But Zhou Hemin wasn’t like anyone else. He laughed again, clapping his hands. “I bet you’re cursing me out in your head.”

Yin Huayue: “…”

The Xu and Liu group: “…”

Being cursed at and this happy about it?

Huayue felt a deep sense of wonder — heaven really was fair. Give someone a noble birth and a handsome face, and it would surely give them a not-quite-right mind in return.

Zhou Hemin was simply too noble and too proper, to the point where his mind had turned out unusually not right. “Whose concubine are you, being left here with no one looking after you, not even throwing a tantrum about it?”

Xu Changyi, sensing this wasn’t going well, stepped in to answer for her. “This is the third young master of the Li family’s concubine — gentle and considerate, she’d never cause trouble for the third young master at a time like this. Your Highness needn’t worry either — we’re all here watching over her.”

Zhou Hemin waved a hand. “I’m not worried at all. It’s just that things up front got boring to listen to, so I wandered off.”

As he spoke, he turned back to her and said quietly, “Have you ever seen the Crown Prince and the Grand Princess fight?”

Huayue nodded. “I had the fortune of witnessing it once, up on Guan Mountain.”

“Tch, what you saw wasn’t even a real fight,” Zhou Hemin said meaningfully. “When those two really get into it, not even a single palace attendant is allowed within thirty feet.”

She’d never met anyone so enthusiastic about gossiping over his own siblings’ quarrels. Huayue thoroughly disdained this lack of sibling affection, yet asked with great curiosity, “Then how does Your Highness know what a real fight between them looks like?”

Zhou Hemin glanced left and right, then beckoned them closer. In an instant, all five heads huddled together.

“I eavesdropped outside the door,” he whispered. “They’re foolish, really — no attendants allowed within thirty feet means no one can catch someone listening from outside either.”

Liu Chenghe cupped his hands in admiration. “And you’re not afraid the Crown Prince will give you trouble over it?”

“He wouldn’t dare. He’s counting on me to speak up for him in front of Father, to abolish the Administrative Bureau.” Zhou Hemin lifted his chin. “He won’t make things difficult for me.”

“In that case, might Your Highness know how things stand up front?” Xu Changyi couldn’t help but ask. “A perfectly good birthday banquet, thrown into such panic — we don’t even know what the Imperial Guard is here to do.”

“What else could they be doing? Today’s banquet was hosted by Crown Prince brother, and even our eldest imperial sister wasn’t invited. She’s none too pleased about that, and just happened to run into a murder — how could she not use it as an excuse to make trouble?” Zhou Hemin said this with great cheer. “The Imperial Guard might even end up fighting the Crown Prince’s own guards before this is over.”

…Something this terrifying, and he was saying it in such a delighted tone?

Huayue glanced toward the main hall, frowning slightly.

“Are you worried about young master Li?” Zhou Hemin said bluntly. “He’s a shrewd one. As long as Crown Prince brother is unharmed, no one will touch him. If you’ve got spare time to worry, you’d do better coming to watch the excitement with me.”

Amused, Huayue looked back at him. “Your Highness’s own birthday banquet has turned into this, and you still have the mood to watch excitement?”

“Excitement is far more interesting than a birthday banquet,” Zhou Hemin scoffed. “Dragging all these people here to flatter me — might as well lock eldest imperial sister and Crown Prince brother in a room together and let me listen to them fight instead.”

“Forgive this lowly girl’s boldness, but Your Highness’s conduct is truly improper.” Huayue scolded him earnestly.

Then, lowering her voice, she asked, “Where would we go to watch?”

Xu Changyi wiped a hand over his face, tugging at Liu Chenghe’s sleeve beside him, giving him a look: Do something about this.

Liu Chenghe was baffled: You dare to manage the third young master’s woman? Tired of living?

But if he didn’t do something, what if she got dragged off by the Fifth Prince? Xu Changyi grew anxious. Though the Fifth Prince was young and seemed simply playful, with no other intentions, the two of them mixing together seemed inappropriate no matter how you looked at it.

Xu Changyi was distraught, and before he could think of a plan, the two of them had already walked off, one after the other, toward the main hall.

“Hey…” He reached out a hand.

Mingshu pulled his hand back, saying quietly, “The Han family and Huayue don’t get along. With the third young master away right now, she’s actually safest by the Fifth Prince’s side.”

“That’s right, what are you all so worried about,” Chaofeng said. “She’s a sensible girl — she won’t cause trouble.”

It wasn’t about causing trouble or not. Xu Changyi looked at Liu Chenghe in despair. “If the third young master asks, you’re the one answering for this.”

“Me? I’ve got somewhere to be.” Liu Chenghe pulled Chaofeng along and turned to leave. “See you later.”

Xu Changyi cursed under his breath.

Huayue genuinely did want to go see the main hall. The Fifth Prince didn’t bother with proper etiquette with her, and she wasn’t one to lecture others either, so she went along with his nonsense and soon found herself pressed against the wall outside the main hall.

Then she finally understood why the Fifth Prince had said what people usually witnessed wasn’t a real fight at all.

Earlier, up on Guan Mountain, the Crown Prince and the Grand Princess arguing over the matter of Sishui had only been sarcastic jabs and veiled insults. Now, with no one within thirty feet, the two of them were cursing each other out in the room with total abandon.

“Some lowborn wretch spawned by a palace maid — don’t think that just because you’ve earned a bit of merit and clawed your way onto the Crown Prince’s seat, you get to point your finger at my nose,” Zhou Heji scolded, standing on a chair. “Touch my people — go ahead, touch one, and I’ll touch ten of yours! Don’t think I don’t know you’ve taken a fancy to that Zhao family girl, wanting to make her your consort. Forget it — tomorrow I’ll go chop her up myself and feed her to the dogs!”

“I just received Father’s praise. I’m in a good mood — my voice can’t compare to yours, you vicious hag who just got scolded by the Empress,” Zhou Heshuo stood not far off, coldly striking back. “If you’ve got the energy to curse people, you’d do better going home to keep watch over that wild man of yours in the palace. Carrying on outside the palace like that — aren’t you afraid of bringing home some disease?”

Whether it was the mention of the Empress or the venereal disease that had struck her sore spot, the Grand Princess’s voice suddenly sharpened, the tip of her hairpin scraping against the floor with each word. “Your days are numbered, Zhou Heshuo, mark my words. Do you really think everyone around you is loyal to you out of genuine devotion? Currying favor with the Fifth Imperial Brother, currying favor with Li Jingyun, currying favor with the court ministers — you think that’s enough to impeach the Administrative Bureau? Keep dreaming! Han Tianyong died today, Li Jingyun dies tomorrow. You can’t protect him, and you can’t even protect yourself!”

Her heart clenched. Huayue held her breath.

“You really are laughable.” Zhou Heshuo’s voice continued from inside the room, dripping with mockery. “Weren’t you the one trying to steal him from me before? Now that you can’t have him, you curse him to die instead? A vicious-hearted, unmarriageable hag through and through. But unfortunately, Jingyun isn’t some useless waste like Han Tianyong — don’t underestimate him.”

“I wouldn’t dare underestimate him.” The Grand Princess laughed coldly. “After all, he’s the one who managed to pull Han Shuang out of your den of wolves — capable, resourceful, even clever enough to fool those eyes of yours. Hardly someone easily dealt with.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Huayue didn’t dare move, pressed against the wall, a chill creeping up her spine.

She’d known Li Jingyun always stood at the edge of danger, but she hadn’t known his situation was quite this precarious — his life and death resting entirely on the whims of these two.

Zhou Heshuo was suspicious by nature. Earlier he’d been fooled and hadn’t pursued the matter of the mandarin duck pendant further, but now that old business had resurfaced. If he went to examine the wound on Li Jingyun’s arm, everything would truly be over.

It wasn’t that she was worried about him exactly, but he was still someone of the General’s household after all — honor shared, ruin shared. If something happened to Li Jingyun, the lady of the house wouldn’t fare well either.

A few sparks of thought flashed through her mind. Huayue narrowed her eyes, silently calculating whether, if she moved quickly enough, she could get there in time to save him.

The two in the room, having quieted for barely a moment, launched right back into their argument — filthy names and curses of every kind, these two people of noble birth trading insults with a vulgarity that outdid any common street brawl.

Zhou Hemin listened with great relish, and once they’d genuinely run out of new insults to hurl, he pulled her away, still savoring it.

“You heard all that — don’t take it to heart, okay?” Sensing something off in her mood, Zhou Hemin smiled at her. “When they fight, they say everything under the sun, but they don’t necessarily mean to follow through.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Huayue bowed her head, still distracted.

“Tomorrow, may I come visit you at your residence?” he asked.

Huayue found this absurd, gathering her scattered thoughts and saying helplessly, “Your Highness, this lowly girl is already someone’s concubine. No matter how noble your status, you’re still a man outside the family — there’s no reason for an outside man to come visit a household’s concubine to play.”

Sighing with regret, Zhou Hemin asked, “What about visiting the third young master instead?”

“That matter this lowly girl cannot manage—”

She trailed off.

The last two words hadn’t even finished leaving her mouth before Huayue realized something, her pupils contracting slightly as she turned to look at him quickly.

The youth before her carried an air of freedom, like the most unrestrained spring breeze through the mountains, carefree and easy. He seemed to know nothing at all, and yet also seemed to understand everything, his eyes crinkling with laughter as he asked her, “Well, is it alright or not?”

“You—” She glanced back at the main hall now left behind them, then looked up at him again, something flickering in her eyes. In the end, she swallowed her words and bowed respectfully. “Of course it’s alright.”

“Then that settles it.” Zhou Hemin flicked his sleeve, the corner of his mouth lifting high. “It’s decided.”

She’d been worried moments ago about whether Li Jingyun would really be in trouble tomorrow, but now that he’d said this, Huayue felt there was nothing left to worry about — with the Fifth Prince present, no matter how bold anyone was, they wouldn’t dare commit murder so openly.

With her worries set aside, curiosity began to stir.

She knew a bit about the goings-on within the Great Liang imperial household — knew that the Empress and the Grand Princess, the Crown Prince and Consort Yao, each formed their own factions vying for power. She also knew that the Sixth Princess and Seventh Prince stayed out of the fray entirely, uninvolved in court affairs. But she’d rarely heard anything about the Fifth Prince — this prince who leaned on his Chancellor uncle for support seemed to have no ambitions of his own, yet was surely no ordinary figure either.

“You have something you want to ask me, don’t you?” Zhou Hemin raised an eyebrow.

Instinctively pressing a hand to her chest, Huayue asked, spooked, “Can you read minds?”

“Not exactly.” He looked at her, teasing. “It’s just that you’re such an interesting person — your thoughts are written right there in your eyes. Ordinary people wouldn’t notice, but if you look closely enough, you can tell exactly what you’re thinking.”

Huayue immediately clapped her hands over her own eyes.

“Hahaha.” Zhou Hemin laughed loudly, leaning against a vermilion pillar by the hallway, looking at her sideways. “It’s too late to block them now — might as well be direct. Ask away, I won’t hold it against you.”

Hesitantly lowering her hands, Huayue frowned slightly, looking at him. “The Fifth Prince is a dragon among men — why would you want to entangle yourself with a lowly servant like me?”

“A servant?” Zhou Hemin looked genuinely puzzled. “Where do you look like a servant to me?”

Confused, she tugged at her own consort-colored skirt, then pointed to her plain attire. “Doesn’t this outfit look like a servant’s to you? Compared to that whole crowd of jewel-adorned wives and young ladies, I’m practically a wild girl from the countryside.”

“What does clothing prove?” He waved a dismissive hand. “A palace maid wearing a phoenix robe is still a palace maid. A noble wearing coarse cloth is still noble.”

“…” Why don’t you give up being a prince and go set up a fortune-telling stall instead?

That was what she thought, though she didn’t dare say it aloud. At first she’d thought the Fifth Prince’s head was a bit off, but now, looking at it again, she found this person genuinely interesting.

He held no ill will — the curiosity and delight in his eyes toward her were entirely clean, without agenda. Talking like this wasn’t about flattering or flirting with her either — he simply said whatever crossed his mind, plainly and directly.

“Then let this lowly girl ask something else instead.” She looked away, lowering her voice. “Your Highness’s own splendid birthday banquet is going unenjoyed, and instead you’re standing here with me — what’s the point of it?”

Zhou Hemin looked her up and down, smiling. “I’m a prince. I’ve got more money than I can spend and more beauties than I can embrace. You’re Li Jingyun’s concubine, a married woman — what could I possibly want from you?”

He paused, then kindly explained further, “I really do just find you interesting, and want to spend time with you. People who guard themselves closely usually have had some unusual experience — most of them won’t easily let their guard down again for anyone. But you’re different. You’re guarded, yet soft-hearted underneath — like a child who’s been hit before, who wants to reach for candy but hesitates.”

The most interesting thing in this world was contradiction, and what the Fifth Prince most loved to watch was people who contradicted themselves.

What he said didn’t sound at all like something a fifteen-year-old should be capable of saying. His face clearly still carried a youth’s freshness, yet every word made Huayue feel as though she’d been seen through completely.

Huayue was already eighteen this year, a full three years older than the Fifth Prince, so even with her lower status, being seen through so thoroughly by someone younger still left her a bit flustered. She crossed her hands, adopting her coldest steward’s demeanor, and said calmly, “Your Highness would do well not to judge people so one-sidedly.”

Zhou Hemin smiled brightly. “I think I’ve judged quite correctly. Just like right now — you don’t want to reveal too much to a stranger, so you want to leave.”

He said this while stepping to the side, trapping her against the vermilion pillar, his eyes lowering to look deeply at her. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you away.”

Why would a fifteen-year-old already be so much taller than her? Huayue wanted to glare at him, but being short herself made it lack any real force. She pressed her lips together and said, none too pleasantly, “Thank you, Your Highness, but if there’s ever a next time, this lowly girl will still give you away.”

Remembering his own miserable state, surrounded and hunted down by palace servants, Zhou Hemin finally showed the sulky annoyance befitting a young man his age. He released her, huffing. “Then I won’t go protect your beloved tomorrow either. Let him fend for himself.”

With that, he turned to leave.

Let him leave, then — this childish little threat wasn’t going to scare anyone. Huayue scoffed, thinking to herself, since when did she have a “beloved” anyway?

And yet, her hand somehow reached out on its own and caught hold of him.

Zhou Hemin paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow, just about to tease her further, when he saw several people approaching around the corner of the hallway.

“It’s nothing major — please put in a good word for us with the third young master.”

“Indeed, we’re all one family here — this is likely just a misunderstanding.”

The group approached, chatting and laughing. The one at the front, dressed in a blue-white robe embroidered with beasts of every kind, lifted his handsome eyes — and they landed squarely on his.