Finally, he answered Song Yang, “Brother Song, Young Master Li has his back to the examination hall—he’s walking out from inside.”

Song Yang and the others looked at each other in surprise and uncertainty. Li Zhaoting’s meaning was clear—she had taken the examination.

Was Li Zhaoting angry?

Su Zhen had no way to know. She only knew that if he was still angry, that was good. If she could no longer stir even the slightest ripple in his heart, that would be truly despairing.

At this moment she clearly sensed something was wrong with the atmosphere and didn’t dare focus too much attention on him—because the examination officials were emerging one after another from the buildings behind her. Though she couldn’t see clearly that day, she vaguely recognized Wei Chenghui. This man had plain features, but his eyes held a hint of rebellious spirit. He was now walking at the front with Yan Da. If she wasn’t mistaken, the two seemed quite surprised as they glanced toward Mu San, then seemed to notice her and looked at her in amazement.

At this time, Li Zhaoting, Song Yang and others paid respects to Chancellors Yan and Wei, and seemed to also notice Mu San. Their expressions tensed as they quickly walked toward him.

Her heart sank instantly. Were Li Zhaoting and Mu San really old acquaintances?

Who exactly was Mu San… Even Yan and Wei, two of the most prominent figures at court, recognized him and showed no airs of superiority.

Mu San nodded to them, then said indifferently, “Huaisu, come here. I have something to ask you.”

In that instant, she saw Li Zhaoting frown, but she was distracted by Mu San’s summons, staring blankly at yet another familiar face emerging from the examination halls—Si Lanfeng, whose expression had changed.

“Li Huaisu?”

In her daze, she vaguely heard a male voice speaking indifferently.

This voice was strange yet somehow oddly familiar, seeming to come from the crowded area right behind her!

Who?

She was shocked and about to turn around, but from the corner of her eye she saw that Li Zhaoting was no longer looking at her—his gaze had fallen on somewhere further away. She couldn’t help but halt her steps, her gaze following his.

“Li Huaisu, you dare play tricks on me with diversionary tactics? Get over here!”

She stuck out her tongue—it was that girl Lian Xin, currently holding a piece of red silk in her hand, glaring at her fiercely. The cold malice in her eyes made Su Zhen shiver.

What Lian Xin was clutching was exactly what she had secretly had Leng Xue hang on the peach tree in front of the shop last night. Lian Xin had wanted white silk, but she had deliberately used red instead.

Lian Xin hadn’t interfered with her daily activities but had stationed people in secret around the inn. This morning before dawn, she and Leng Xue had called the two inn servants into their room, knocked them unconscious, and borrowed their clothes to avoid Lian Xin’s spies and successfully reach the Imperial Academy.

She was considering whether to appease the princess or what to do when she saw the person beside Lian Xin and froze.

She recognized this person.

The fairy from the painting.

So the person in Li Zhaoting’s painting wasn’t fictional after all.

On that beautiful oval face, a pair of eyes seemed to have ripples painted in them, with pale pink lips and pearls swaying lightly in her hair, making her lake-blue sable winter robes seem like a mirror of water.

Seeing her staring, the other woman smiled slightly and nodded to her.

Lian Xin seemed displeased, glancing at the blue-clothed woman with what appeared to be both contempt and wariness.

This realization brought Su Zhen no joy—her heart suddenly filled with panic.

The woman in the painting was a beauty, a woman of refinement, while she herself was just an… ugly duckling…