With each sentence Tie Yan spoke, Consort Jing’s face grew paler, until by the end, her pale face showed nothing but panic and confusion. She had clearly lost herself in such thunderous interrogation, dazed and bewildered, not knowing where she was or what she should do. She didn’t understand much of what the Emperor said, but his harsh tone and stern expression alone were enough to break her heart. She felt wronged inside—what Bi Luo had described as such a thoughtful good deed, she had wholeheartedly believed she could finally do something for the Crown Princess, yet from another person’s mouth it became her wronging the Crown Princess. Was she too naive, or was His Majesty too harsh…

Hearing Tie Yan’s last sentence, she swayed and fainted.

Tie Yan’s expression grew even uglier. She fainted just from this?

He had even more furious words he couldn’t say. Today, Consort Jing had essentially delivered herself to the Empress Dowager’s attention and forced Tie Ci to reveal her care, making her a weakness for Tie Ci from now on. Who knew what troubles this would bring in the future.

But this dodder flower couldn’t withstand wind or rain, yet couldn’t be uprooted either—truly vexing.

Tie Ci sighed and had Wet Nurse Qin come help the person up. After today’s lesson, Dian Fang Palace should be quiet for some time. The current confinement was actually protection for her—not allowing her to go out or letting people in would bring some peace.

She was about to travel far soon, and after today’s display of concern for Consort Jing before the Empress Dowager, if Dian Fang Palace wasn’t cleansed, it would likely become a sword in the Empress Dowager’s hand, ready to stab whenever needed.

The father and daughter left Dian Fang Palace, hearing the palace doors slowly close behind them, and sighed simultaneously.

The guards dragged over someone—Bi Luo, still breathing barely. Tie Ci said, “Treat her injuries. Investigate her daily actions. If there are still hidden matters, let her choose herself whether to take mute drugs, receive some money, and leave the palace far behind, or have the backbone to die resolutely.”

Tie Yan disapproved: “A ruler must never be soft-hearted. This palace servant committed such a grave crime and knows palace secrets—even executing nine generations of her family would be justified. How can you leave her a way out?”

“My master said that people are born equal, and the value of life is above all else.”

“Heretical nonsense! Child, Father has told you many times about that master of yours…”

“Acts wickedly, rebels against proper order, spreads various heresies, violates imperial authority. Every word should be executed ten thousand times. Yes, I know.” Tie Ci smiled. “Don’t worry, Father, I understand. But if I killed Bi Luo today, she has no apparent great fault on the surface, and I’d inevitably earn a reputation for being unvirtuous and tyrannical. Then they’d make articles about it. Now I spare her life, but they might not want to spare it. If they use any means then, Bi Luo would surely hate them more… Small people’s revenge lasts from dawn to dusk.”

“That last sentence is your master’s words, isn’t it? Also quite a wise and novel person, just doesn’t walk the righteous path.”

The father and daughter chatted casually for a few sentences, then parted. Tie Yan hurried to handle affairs—although the Cabinet now drafted proposals and the Ceremonial Directorate reviewed them in red, he still had to read every memorial.

Tie Ci returned to her palace, where her virtuous male best friend had already packed everything needed for the journey. Gu Xiaoxiao came from a scholarly family. His father excelled at squeezing oil from stones and meat from soil, managing to keep the nation’s tight finances operating year after year while still supporting the Empress Dowager’s extravagant expenses. He himself was quite skilled in calculation and planning, able to organize the most useful and streamlined luggage in the shortest time. His father hated this most about him—clearly capable of inheriting the family business and achieving great things, but preferring to use these skills on organizing the Crown Princess’s room and luggage.

His father once thought, since he so enjoyed organizing the Crown Princess’s things, he might as well organize them for life. But when Gu Xiaoxiao and Tie Ci heard this suggestion, both looked horrified.

Gu Xiaoxiao: “I don’t want to be the Nation’s Father! Being Nation’s Father means meeting so many people!”

Tie Ci: “Heavens, if he became my husband, I’d definitely suffer domestic violence! Every time I mess up the blankets even a little, he hits me! What if he saw my sleeping posture?”

The matter ended there. Some relationships, no matter how intimate, are only suitable for friendship—one step closer might turn them into bitter spouses.

Tie Ci sat cross-legged on her bed, which Gu Xiaoxiao had arranged without a single wrinkle, meditating through the night. At the beginning of the mao hour, she opened her eyes on time, disappointment flashing in them.

When Tie clan royal descendants inherited their gifted abilities, there were supposedly subtle internal organ sensations, but she had tried for many years and waited for many years—her internal organs remained calm as stagnant water.

She could cultivate vigorous true qi but couldn’t open that ray of light belonging to gifted abilities.

Never mind, this was probably fate. Since her Crown Prince position came easily, the path to the throne would be more difficult—this was called balance.

Getting up, practicing martial arts, then eating breakfast—Tie Ci ate lightly and never showed preferences, so the imperial kitchen had no pressure making whatever they wanted.

During the meal, Chi Xue, who had returned, reported yesterday’s battle results. Chi Xue assured her that today’s citywide hot search would definitely be Wang Ran with his severed third leg, with the only competition for the spotlight being Young Wolf King Dan Ye, who became a strong competitor for the top hot search with news of molesting his father’s beautiful concubine.

Tie Ci rewarded her with substantial gold and silver. By the end of mao hour, she had already arrived early at the study to review yesterday’s lessons. At shen hour, the Eastern Palace lecturers arrived, and she endured bombardment from three old scholars’ rotating lectures. In the afternoon, she first studied military texts with the Minister of War personally teaching, then archery and riding with the Five Military Commissioners accompanying, followed by observing and learning at the Cabinet, only then having time to leave the palace.

Every day’s schedule was so tight, so she always dressed in men’s clothing—dignified and generous but not exaggerated, ready to go anywhere at any time.

She first went to Qingjing Temple, where the abbot personally came out to greet her, escorting her all the way to the innermost small courtyard.

The courtyard had peculiar furnishings, completely at odds with the yellow-tiled, red-walled temple style in front. The small courtyard had lush green grass, neatly trimmed but without the various colorful flowers popular nowadays. The buildings inside were arranged in an orderly fashion but not in a traditional courtyard layout—just several connected small buildings, all white, with one roof covered by expensive glass dome that let sunlight fall through transparently.

In the center of the courtyard was a round pool with colorful fish, and in the pool’s center stood a white marble sculpture of a curly-haired woman with flowing drapery, holding a ceramic vase that continuously poured water into the pool. Because of this sculpture, no monks ever set foot in this courtyard, as the woman was dressed too scantily. Only Tie Ci and her fellow disciples knew this was Greek-style clothing, called Dorian style or something.

Beyond the round pool, under the archway of the white marble Greek-style woman statue, a nun was sunning her feet.

Those feet wore strange open-toed shoes with only a few straps, with the big toe wiggling contentedly and skillfully in the sunlight.

The nun in the monk temple saw Tie Ci approaching but didn’t get up, lazily pointing to beside her: “You’re in luck. Recently had someone find sea stone flowers. Just made a plate of jelly, come eat.”

Tie Ci picked up that plate of crystal-clear, trembling jelly, examined it carefully, and swallowed it in one bite just before a hand secretly reaching from behind could touch the jelly.

A heartbroken sigh came from behind.

Tie Ci didn’t look up, finished eating the jelly, then looked back and smiled at the person behind: “Senior Brother.”

The man had ordinary features but smiling eyes. He sat down beside her with sighs, patting her shoulder: “Master is always so biased, not considering who’ll support her in old age.”

“This old monk is so rich, need you for old age support? Clearly you covet this old monk’s little Western-style house.” The nun on the soft couch who called herself “old monk” sat up. Calling her a nun was only because she wore a hat and blue clothes, but she still had hair. Her face was very smooth, ageless—could be twenty-seven or twenty-eight, could be forty-seven or forty-eight. Her brow was naturally broad with a naturally compassionate appearance, but her eyes held slight coldness and indifference.

Tie Ci first met her at age three. Consort Jing, influenced by someone’s instigation, sent her to the Empress Dowager’s palace, hoping to cultivate grandparent-grandchild affection. That very night, the Empress Dowager’s palace encountered an “assassin” who neither harmed the Empress Dowager nor frightened palace servants, but had trouble with her, a three-year-old child, kidnapping her from the palace. The Empress Dowager even suppressed the news and didn’t report to the Emperor.

She was taken from the palace by that assassin and thrown into the moat. In the dead of winter, with thick clothes, she almost became a weight before she could struggle, but she gritted her teeth and desperately paddled toward shore. The assassin sitting on the bank repeatedly pushed her back with a stick. The towering city tower above pressed down like a mountain, the scattered lights on the tower distant as stars in the sky. She stared at the iron-character banner flying atop the tower, its shadow covering the black water surface and her small figure.

At the last moment before her strength gave out and she sank, she suddenly heard an explosion.

She saw a light streak from the distance, exploding into a deep red flower with gold edges before her vision, with bright blood blooming at its heart—the blood of that highly skilled assassin.

One strike killed.

She had never seen such a weapon in her life, never heard such a heart-stopping sound.

That explosion also echoed throughout the tower. Footsteps scattered under the banner, and finally someone rushed down to rescue her.

But before those soldiers rescued her, she had seen a person standing on the opposite bank, tilting their head, blowing on a black tube in their hand.

Sparks scattered from the tube, and her eyes were cold and mocking in the sparks.

This scene seemed illusory yet real, like a dream, but Tie Ci could never forget it for life.

Later, when she grew a bit older, still obsessed with that night’s experience, she often snuck out of the palace to wander by the moat. Once in severe cold, when the moat was frozen thick with ice, she stood by the river in a daze, thinking of that night’s bone-piercing cold, feeling as if she would never be warm again in this lifetime.

Then in the twilight, she suddenly saw someone.

That person whooshed over from the distance, sliding along the palace wall base like wind—light and fast. Seeing her, they smiled from afar, stood on tiptoes, and gracefully spun in a circle.

Only then did Tie Ci see she wore strange shoes with high sides and four wheels on the bottom.

She used these wheeled shoes to dance on the ice. The shoes were clumsy, but she moved as if she could ascend to heaven.

Tie Ci was then in the period before being crowned Crown Prince, with court officials arguing endlessly. She herself was tormented by the troubles, yearning for “ease” day and night until her mouth watered. Almost instantly, she was moved by this woman dancing on ice.

And instantly, she was certain this was her life-saving benefactor.

That strange woman skating on the moat under the palace gates soon alarmed the Capital Camp soldiers guarding the palace. By convention, those crossing the moat without imperial command were to be killed without question. Arrows were immediately released, but the woman wasn’t panicked, skating happily through the arrow rain. Just as Tie Ci was about to order the arrows to stop, the woman suddenly slid to her side, grinned at her, and grabbed her hand.

Before Tie Ci could react, she was pulled onto the ice.

A moment’s panic couldn’t match the subsequent refreshing pleasure of gliding on ice. The cold wind hit her chest directly as she led her like a fish through the ocean, with arrow rain whooshing overhead, countless times brushing past their sides, turning into powerless meteors.

In the sound of wind and arrows, she laughed loudly: “Laugh out loud! Isn’t it wonderful!”

This phrase later lingered in Tie Ci’s ears. Every time she wanted to give up or escape, she would hear: “Laugh out loud!”

Yun Buci, who later became her master, speaking of that day’s meeting, said: “I recognized you at first sight as that little pitiful one from three years ago. Nothing else—those eyes were ruthless enough. I liked that.”

Whether Yun Buci’s name was real or fake, Tie Ci once suspected this name was chosen to mock her.

That day the arrow rain stopped abruptly because of her identity. Then Yun Buci smiled at her and said, “Ah, imperial daughter, a powerful backer—available for hugging?”

She didn’t understand but said decisively: “Yes!”

Later she gained several more senior and junior fellow disciples. Some were orphans taken in by Master, others had unclear origins. Like Senior Brother, who supposedly had mines at home but often stole Master’s money.

Second Senior Brother was supposedly a descendant of a famous sect, but appeared in tattered clothes every time—sometimes with a face full of plateau red, sometimes wearing a black eye patch. She thought he was blind, but he said coldly he was cosplaying a pirate.

Third Senior Sister always carried a golden abacus, with all her accessories accounting-related. Her ring was coin-shaped, her forehead ornament a golden ingot. Supposedly account books excited her and gold made her tireless. She calculated accounts day and night without pay, only wanting to face Master’s storehouses everywhere daily. Supposedly she managed all Master’s businesses. With Tie Ci’s status, it wasn’t appropriate to ask about Master’s businesses—what they were or how many—but judging from Third Senior Sister’s permanent dark circles, it was better not to ask, lest a dignified heir apparent feel the throne wasn’t worthwhile.

Tie Ci sometimes guessed which wealthy merchants might be under Master’s banner—perhaps more than imagined, maybe only the former Liaodong tycoon Sun family could compare. But the Sun family had been declining for many years, with their assets supposedly swallowed by the Prince of Liaodong.

There were also unseen senior and junior fellow disciples that Tie Ci didn’t inquire about. Master was mysterious yet had a heart encompassing heaven and earth. Tie Ci didn’t want to easily enter her world.

She feared that place didn’t belong to Great Qian.

Master and disciple finished the jelly facing the statue in the courtyard. Yun Buci wiped her mouth, stood up, and said: “You’re leaving soon. Let me give you a parting gift.”