Liaodong, Ru Prefecture.

Prince Da’an’s palace occupied a vast area, grand and majestic in appearance. Its layout and scale were in no way inferior to the imperial palace at the center of the Great Qian capital.

The Enlightenment Hall, specially used by the Prince for examining his sons, was now packed inside and out with people—all attendants of the various princes.

Murong Yi arrived hurriedly with two personal guards. Just as he was about to enter, someone suddenly emerged from around a corridor corner. This person had a lean face and gentle eyes, and bowed to Murong Yi from afar.

There weren’t many people in this palace who treated him so courteously. Murong Yi immediately performed a deep bow, a hundred times more courteous and humble than the other man. “Master-grandfather, may you be well.”

The lean man opposite smiled and said gently, “The Eighteenth Prince is being mischievous again. How could this minister deserve such an address?”

Murong Yi laughed, “Minister Qiu is Father Prince’s teacher, who has supported Father Prince in establishing great worldly achievements for many years. Your merits in Liaodong are immense, so naturally you are my master-grandfather.”

Qiu Wujiu smiled helplessly and shook his head, then suddenly asked, “Has the Eighteenth Prince been injured?”

Following his gaze, Murong Yi looked down and only then noticed a faint trace of blood at the edge of his wrist, probably carelessly stained during the earlier interrogation.

“It’s been cold recently, so I’ve been staying by the fire. Being roasted by the heat for too long, it’s inevitable to have a few nosebleeds.” Murong Yi said nonchalantly, “How about you take my pulse, Master-grandfather, and prescribe some medicine to reduce the heat?”

Qiu Wujiu said, “Hot fires and boiling oil may look vigorous, but they harm people the most. If the Eighteenth Prince enjoys warming by the fire, then you need not only to reduce the heat, but also to calm your heart.”

Murong Yi laughed, “You’re absolutely right.”

The two faced each other and smiled—one smile gentle and kind, the other innocent and guileless.

A group of people came bustling over from behind. The leader gave Qiu Wujiu a perfunctory bow, shouldered Murong Yi aside against the wall, swept past him like the wind, and threw back a distant remark: “Seductive wretch!”

Murong Yi stood on tiptoe, raised his head and shouted after the departing group: “Fourth Brother!”

A snort of laughter came from behind. When Murong Yi turned back, Qiu Wujiu had already left.

Mu Si followed behind him. He was the son of the palace’s deputy steward and had some standing in the palace, so Murong Yi usually brought him along when in the palace.

The eternally indignant Mu Si frowned as he watched Qiu Wujiu’s departing figure and said, “That old man speaks with hidden barbs!”

The smile on Murong Yi’s face didn’t fade.

Liaodong was rich in foxes and wolves, and this palace was full of them inside and out. He had walked among them for many years, every step fraught with danger. Having finally reached today with great difficulty, no one should think of suddenly kicking him down and ruining his good fortune.

Like that Imperial Princess’s husband selection, for instance.

He hoped she had some sense.

Murong Yi turned around the corridor, entered through the door, and stood in the corner by the entrance, directly facing the Enlightenment Hall plaque.

“Enlightenment” took its meaning from “Learning values heart’s understanding; clinging to the old achieves nothing.”

Murong Yi always stared at those last four characters for a long time.

Prince Da’an’s restless old heart could be clearly seen from these four characters.

Prince Da’an, Murong Yao, over fifty years old, had an angular, square face. Years of wealthy, honored living had worn away the weathered look forged on battlefields, adding several degrees of dignified bearing. At this moment his expression was still gentle as he finished reviewing the assignments of his first few sons, nodded, and set them aside.

There was still a large stack beside him—after all, he had eighteen sons, but the Prince had myriad affairs to handle daily and couldn’t possibly review them all.

So every time Murong Yi handed in his assignments, the cover was written neat and proper, but inside, when he was in a good mood it would be completely blank, and when in a bad mood he’d draw a turtle.

The Princess Consort sat to one side, and several consorts who had followed the Prince for many years also had seats. Consort Baoxiang’s position was at the very end. She pressed her lips together and stared at that stack of scrolls, and Murong Yi guessed she was wondering whether to have the Prince look at her own assignment as well, but Murong Yi would bet ten thousand that she wouldn’t dare take that risk.

After all, he had once “accidentally” let Consort Baoxiang see his own assignment.

According to old custom, after reviewing the assignments and giving a few admonishing words, they would disperse. But today Prince Da’an seemed to have something on his mind, rubbing his knees with both hands for a long while without speaking.

Though the sons normally fought like black-eyed roosters—for instance, recently both the First Prince and Second Prince had separately come to Prince Da’an in tears to complain—that was all done privately. At these family gathering occasions, everyone had to maintain a harmonious facade to dress up this flourishing royal family. Several favored sons all gathered around, inquiring about his health, consulting on various matters, chattering away wanting to share their father-prince’s worries.

Prince Da’an then said, “In that case, let me test you on something. Whoever answers well will be rewarded with a position as Secretary in the Inner Library.”

The princes immediately stirred.

The Inner Library was the Prince’s cabinet, controlling Liaodong’s political affairs. A Secretary position meant permission to participate in governance—the significance was self-evident.

“If there were someone to whom you owed a great debt of gratitude, but now he has committed a crime, what should you do?”

The First Prince immediately replied, “Father Prince has always taught us not to let private affection harm public righteousness. Those who serve loyally and benefit the times should be rewarded even if they are enemies; those who break laws and are negligent should be punished even if they are relatives. Gratitude and criminal acts should never be mixed together.”

The Second Prince snorted derisively, and the First Prince glared at him angrily.

The Second Prince said, “Big Brother, don’t be angry. This laugh is merely my admiration for Big Brother’s familiarity with the classics and ability to quote them fluently. But Father Prince surely understands such principles, doesn’t he? I imagine this gratitude must be extraordinary, and this crime must also be exceptional, which is why Father Prince finds it troubling, right?”

Prince Da’an nodded approvingly. The First Prince’s face turned iron-blue.

Murong Yi said nothing. Only he knew what the old man was referring to. First was Yang Xiong—Yang Xiong had once saved Prince Da’an’s life, and the old fellow both wanted to kill him and feared being held hostage by gratitude, even more afraid of being criticized for ingratitude. Second was the Royal Teacher Qiu Wujiu. This teacher of Prince Da’an was actually a descendant of the previous generation’s Western Rong royal family. When the dynasty fell and he fled, he brought many Western Rong followers to serve Prince Da’an. Over these many years, with Prince Da’an’s support, he had also built quite an underground network in Western Rong. Now feeling his wings were strong enough and missing his homeland, he wanted to return. But Prince Da’an only wanted to control him to plot against Western Rong—how could he let the tiger return to the mountain? It’s just that all of Liaodong knew Qiu Wujiu was utterly loyal to the Prince, had worked tirelessly for his territory, and had even blocked swords for him twice. With such merit and loyalty, to detain him without release—even someone like Prince Da’an couldn’t bring himself to say it outright.

Those who didn’t know the inside story and answered rashly couldn’t possibly please him.

Sure enough, the next few sons chattered away, still thinking this was Father Prince testing their character, all pulling toward righteousness. Prince Da’an just listened impassively.

Consort Baoxiang sat to one side, seeing the princes all eager to speak while only Murong Yi looked completely absent-minded, and immediately became furious. Suddenly seeing Mu Si whisper something to Murong Yi, and Murong Yi’s lips curve in a smile with a hint of mockery.

Consort Baoxiang suddenly remembered that over all these years, whenever Murong Yi showed this kind of smile, she was sure to suffer.

This child was clearly extremely clever. Looking at his expression, he might not be without ideas about the Prince’s question either. Why was he unwilling to step forward and let the Prince see that he had more than just a pretty face?

Father Prince’s favor wouldn’t fall from heaven. With so many sons, if you don’t work hard to walk into his line of sight, can you still expect him to notice you first?

Prince Da’an was still smiling slightly, but the frequency of his finger tapping on his knee had obviously quickened. The consorts who understood him all knew this meant he was impatient and about to end things.

Consort Baoxiang’s heart tightened. She suddenly pointed at Murong Yi and said, “Yi’er, Mother Consort sees that you have ideas. Why don’t you speak up and let Father Prince evaluate them?”

The chaotic voices stopped abruptly.

All eyes focused on Murong Yi at once.

Murong Yi felt his throat constrict, as if he were back to that banquet many years ago, when all eyes turned to him in that moment—that drowning sensation of suffocation returned.

Oppression, anger, flickering lights and shadows, everything hazy.

Consort Baoxiang’s somewhat shrill voice pursued him again: “Speak!”

From his seat above, Prince Da’an stared at that nearly perfect face, his eyes flickering slightly, and raised his chin to indicate he should speak.

Murong Yi spread his hands with a look of difficulty and embarrassment.

The brothers around him stared at him—some with amusement, some with cold smiles, some expressionless, some with burning gazes.

Prince Da’an waited a while. The faint smile in his eyes showed no suspicion as he looked at Consort Baoxiang with gentle good humor and said, “Lady Wang, don’t tease Little Sixteen. How could he understand these things?”

Consort Baoxiang struggled for a long moment before saying with difficulty, “Great Prince, this is your eighteenth son, your youngest son. This concubine’s surname is Sun.”

Prince Da’an showed no embarrassment, paused quietly and said, “This Prince remembers you as an honest person, but today you seem to be boasting.”

Consort Baoxiang’s scalp exploded with fear. She quickly left her seat, grabbed Murong Yi’s sleeve, and said in a low voice, “You speak, speak! I know you understand how to answer! Don’t just think about getting revenge on me! If Father Prince gets angry, none of us can handle it!”

Mu Si stood by the door, wishing he could stick out his foot in a twist and kick her to death. Murong Yi looked down at his mother’s face, taut with nervousness, and suddenly remembered another similar but aged face, thinking of that person’s kindness and earnest instructions before departure. Finally he silently softened his shoulders.

He smiled and peeled Consort Baoxiang off his arm, then said to Prince Da’an, “Father Prince, Mother Consort loves her son dearly and always thinks everything about her son is good. But you understand what I’m capable of—how could I have any insights? It’s just that since we owe someone gratitude, morally we’re already three parts weaker. For ordinary people, being in a weak position doesn’t matter, but a Prince must be a moral exemplar—otherwise how can he govern Liaodong with benevolent and virtuous policies? Yet we absolutely cannot let gratitude override law and principle—otherwise how can we control Liaodong with legal statutes?”

Fourth Prince Murong Xin snorted coldly, “Still the same empty words as the rest of us.”

“Not at all, not at all. You’re too kind.” Murong Yi replied.

An advisor behind Fourth Prince quietly tugged at him.

When your mouth can’t compete, why drag things out?

Murong Yi then said to Prince Da’an, who seemed not to have seen this exchange, “Your son suddenly remembered something from childhood. The Grand Minister’s favorite subordinate Tuhun committed a capital crime. But Tuhun had once carried the Grand Minister out of Western Rong’s Ice Hell Cave—it was a life-and-death bond. How this matter was finally handled, your son only heard teachers mention the background, but forgot the outcome. Does Father Prince still remember?”

The whole hall fell silent.

This matter was very long ago, but once mentioned, everyone remembered.

The Grand Minister, that is Qiu Wujiu, was Liaodong’s Chancellor. Not long after the Tuhun incident came to light, the Grand Minister found Tuhun’s wife and son who had been separated for many years since leaving their Western Rong homeland. After going through enormous hardships to bring them back, he brought them to the prison to see Tuhun once.

That very night, Tuhun died with a smile by suicide.

This incident didn’t damage the Grand Minister’s reputation at all, and even left behind a beautiful tale of gratitude and friendship between kindred spirits.

To avoid owing someone a favor, use an even greater favor to cover it.

As for how such a greater favor so conveniently arrived when needed, that was something the parties involved understood in their hearts.

During their earlier meeting in the corridor, the old fox’s eyes had been sharp as knives, clearly already suspicious of him. Now was the critical period when he wanted to return to Western Rong—he might well use this suspicion to bargain with the Prince for his freedom.

Since Murong Yi had been forced to speak, he naturally had to block all possibilities first.

Providing the Prince with a way to counter Qiu Wujiu was one move; bringing up that the old incident had underhanded elements to make Prince Da’an wary of Qiu Wujiu’s scheming was another. This way, even if Qiu Wujiu told the Prince he suspected Murong Yi had a dual identity, the Prince might not believe it.

Before swords were even drawn, the killing had already begun on the battlefield.

The fingers that Prince Da’an had been tapping on his knee went from slow to fast then slowed again—this meant he was thinking. After a moment he smiled and said gently to Consort Baoxiang, “Don’t keep standing. Please sit.”

Joy exploded in Consort Baoxiang’s eyes. She looked at Murong Yi with satisfaction and gracefully returned to her seat.

Prince Da’an didn’t mention this matter further, continuing to discuss studies and family affairs as usual. Only today, because of Murong Yi’s answer, he specifically pulled out Murong Yi’s assignment from the very bottom.

Opening the title page—a vast white land, truly clean.

The corner of Prince Da’an’s eye twitched. He quickly flipped to the last page.

The back cover had a pig’s head drawn on it, bearing a striking resemblance to the teaching master.

Prince Da’an snapped the scroll shut with a slap and fixed his gaze on Murong Yi.

Murong Yi wore a look of panic and regret.

Prince Da’an stared at him for a long while but said nothing, tossed the assignment back, said “That’s all for today,” and got up to leave.

Everyone in the room stood to see him off. Murong Yi eagerly stepped forward to help him over the threshold. As he turned his face, Prince Da’an happened to see his pierced earlobe.

A flash of disgust passed through Prince Da’an’s eyes. He unobtrusively avoided Murong Yi’s hand and walked out on his own.

Murong Yi straightened up and, amid a room full of mocking gazes, smiled easily.

Author’s Note:

This is truly the book where the male and female leads meet latest, because of the setting—they simply can’t meet early. But it’s coming soon, and I can guarantee that after they meet, their scenes together will be really plentiful and sweet!