Tie Ci had already guessed, but still fell silent for a moment.

For an instant, she very much wanted to roll up those two sets of bedding and throw them out the door.

But since he had already moved in, she could only endure it. Thinking of the person who had peeked earlier, she perked up her spirits. Her gaze swept over the three people other than Rong Pu.

Rong Pu wouldn’t be the one who peeked. The remaining three were all suspicious.

It wasn’t that she cared about being seen. Rather, she worried that someone had discovered clues about her female identity and wanted to verify it.

She smiled and patted Tian Wu’s shoulder: “Fat Tiger, thank you. But just now you didn’t hold the door curtain properly for me – there was a draft.” As she spoke, she pointed to the right side of the door curtain that had been lifted earlier.

Tian Wu said in bewilderment: “But I was standing on the left side just now. It must have been Brother Li Zhi – he was standing to my right.”

With one sentence, she had figured out everyone’s positions. Tie Ci looked toward Li Zhi, who smiled apologetically at her and said: “It was my carelessness.”

He had always been a good-natured peacemaker who wouldn’t argue whether Tie Ci’s questioning was reasonable or not. Rong Pu looked at her with some surprise.

Tong Rushi had already lifted the door curtain and gone inside. Tie Ci blocked the left path, so he could only walk to the right. As he brushed past Tie Ci, she suddenly swayed and bumped into him. He crashed into the door frame and instinctively grabbed the door curtain, then cried out in pain.

Everyone was startled. Tong Rushi slowly raised his hand – there was a tiny bloody hole in it, and after a moment, blood flowed out.

Tie Ci quickly walked over, saying in surprise: “How did you get injured… Oh my, who stuck a needle in this door curtain!”

Everyone was also surprised. Tie Ci apologized to Tong Rushi. He merely nodded once, pulled back his hand that Tian Wu had grabbed to examine, and went inside without a word.

Tie Ci had deliberately bumped into Tong Rushi. If he had been the one peeking earlier, he would have known there was a needle in the door curtain. People instinctively avoid known dangers, so she only needed to see whether Tong Rushi would instinctively avoid the needle to know if he was the peeper.

It seemed he wasn’t.

Then it could only be Li Zhi.

Tie Ci had originally suspected Tong Rushi more. Getting this conclusion now also made her frown involuntarily. But she showed nothing on her face, taking her food bowl to get dinner.

After eating, the scholars in the dormitory went to the Quiet Study to continue reading – this was an academy benefit to prevent overly diligent students from burning their bed curtains by lighting their own lamps. Tie Ci thought this was probably equivalent to modern evening self-study.

She also followed local customs, taking books to the Quiet Study. The path from Wu dormitory to the Quiet Study passed by Lingering Fragrance Lake. The lakeside was a road lined with silk tree flowers. Between the canopy-like green shade, pale red flower clusters hung like fragrant fans or embroidered crowns, rising and falling with the wind among the leaf waves like a rainbow, appearing from afar like a row of beauties with cloud-like hair and flower-adorned faces, wearing crowns full of blossoms.

On the lake, mandarin ducks intertwined their necks, swans paired off, their curved necks all shaped like “I love you.”

It was truly very romantic.

With scenery came atmosphere, and with atmosphere but no people, it was like casting pearls before swine. It would be even more wasteful of the name “silk tree,” which made people think impure thoughts just by hearing it.

Although the academy students prioritized their studies, they were also hot-blooded youths with romantic feelings. How could they bear to waste this rare touch of romance in the otherwise solemn and austere academy? So even though the men’s and women’s dormitories were separated by an entire central courtyard, like the Chu River from the Han boundary, this path inevitably had to be shyly trodden by little lovers who had caught each other’s eye.

Walking on the path, Tie Ci inevitably saw paired silhouettes behind trees and soft giggles beneath flowers. At first she thought the rustling sounds were thieves, but after consecutively startling three pairs of little lovers, she realized she was being obtuse.

There were footsteps behind her. She turned around to see Rong Pu emerging from behind a tree, also carrying a book case, smiling at her: “Shall we walk together?”

He stood beneath the green trees and red shade, having just changed into a white shirt that billowed in the summer evening breeze like scattered snow and wandering clouds.

Tie Ci was originally indifferent, then turned to see those pairs of couples and had a realization.

Suddenly someone above said: “What’s the point of walking with that consumptive ghost? It would only slow you down.” A red figure lightly flipped down from the tree, scattering silk tree flowers all over Tie Ci’s head. Dan Ye’s clearly defined face with its slightly wild quality had naturally sweet features at his brow and eye corners that assaulted the senses: “Come, let me carry your books for you.”

Before Dan Ye could take the books, Tie Ci twisted her body and with a few quick steps had already walked out of that ambiguously lit “lovers’ path,” standing at the bright intersection. She turned back with a smile: “Thanks for the invitation. But you two should walk together. Look – one red, one white, how well matched. Since ancient times, red and white make a CP. Don’t waste this beautiful scenery and lovely evening.”

She raised her long legs and with one turn was gone, leaving Rong Pu and Dan Ye looking at each other in bewilderment. Each glanced at his own clothing, then after a moment, both turned expressionlessly and headed back to the dormitory.

To change clothes.

……

The students studying hard in the Quiet Study dispersed in twos and threes. The bedtime bell rang, and after a period of noisy chaos, each dormitory gradually quieted down. The night watchmen carried lanterns through the empty, silent corridors, not noticing a black shadow flash behind the flower bushes.

Tie Ci concealed her form all the way to the library. Although she could visit the library during the day, with so many people around it wasn’t suitable for her to rummage through things.

The library was located on the right side of the central courtyard behind the main gate, in a separate compound. The two-story building was six bays wide with no lights visible, its flying eaves reflected in the mirror-like flower pond in front of the building.

There was a small house in front of the building for the librarian, usually guarded by students in rotation. Tie Ci was prepared to knock someone unconscious, but when she floated past the small house, she discovered the person inside was lying back in his chair, sleeping deeply.

Tie Ci didn’t enter from the first floor, afraid the creaking floorboards would wake someone. She climbed directly to the second floor.

The second floor had windows opening north and south for air circulation. Rows of bookcases reached from floor to ceiling, with doors opening on both sides for convenient book retrieval and to prevent mold. Tables between the bookcases facilitated reading and copying.

In the vast library with its tens of thousands of books, Tie Ci walked to the innermost area where miscellaneous records and travel accounts were kept. She had asked He Zi – Lady He had yearned to travel the rivers and mountains during her lifetime, and aside from story books, travel accounts were her favorite reading. Story books and casual writings couldn’t enter this serious literary library, but there were quite a few travel accounts.

The travel accounts also filled an entire bookcase. The most recent ones were at the bottom – no need to look at those. The older ones were on top. Tie Ci dragged over a ladder and climbed up to flip through them one by one.

The books above hadn’t been moved for a long time. The slightest touch raised clouds of dust, and some pages had become brittle – they were all precious volumes. Not wanting to damage them, Tie Ci could only handle them very slowly and turn pages very carefully. After nearly an hour, her arms were sore, but she had only finished three books. Looking back at that large row of densely packed books, she couldn’t help but sigh.

At this rate, she couldn’t finish them all in a month.

If only this were a modern library with reading records – she could just look up what books Lady He had read in the few days before the incident.

As she continued flipping, her stomach began to grumble. After being busy most of the night, that bit of dinner had long been digested.

Tie Ci regretted not bringing a few steamed buns. Just as she was thinking this, she suddenly smelled a rich aroma.

For a moment she thought she was having olfactory hallucinations.

But the aroma became clearer and clearer. She could even distinctly smell the fresh fragrance that belonged to a mixture of meat and spices.

Tie Ci suddenly stood up and walked down the stairs. Halfway down, she stopped.

Downstairs, flickering firelight had appeared at some point. It was a small stone stove with warm flames glowing from the stove opening. A pot sat on top, with continuous bubbling sounds echoing in the somewhat empty first floor – a gentle and enticing rhythm.

A black-clothed figure sat before the pot, with a tall, slender silhouette and hair tied in a bundle. He was pulling out a burnt grass bundle from the stove and placing it on a stone beside him, then taking another prepared grass bundle and stuffing it into the stove.

Tie Ci took a deep breath.

This scene would be fine if it happened outdoors, but the problem was it was happening in the library where even food wasn’t allowed, let alone open flames!

Which bastard was so audacious!

But… it smells so good!

With this breath, Tie Ci discovered her anger about using open flames in the library was far outweighed by the silent temptation from that pot.

Indeed, all integrity and character were just decorations in a treasure pavilion, only brought out for a stroll when there were visitors.

The person downstairs heard the commotion, turned around, and looked up with a smile, greeting her like an old acquaintance: “Hungry? Just one more bundle of grass and it’ll be ready.”

Tie Ci stood at the stair landing, looking down at the warm, dim light below, at the upturned smiling face white as jade, surrounded by what seemed like a warm golden halo.

She was momentarily dazed.

A faint tide rose in her heart, like a lonely person wandering by the cold seaside at night who suddenly sees a light on a small boat at the distant wave crests.

Though far away, it was warm, with a touch of gentle anticipation.

Knowing it was coming for her.

She was born in the palace, raised amid conspiracies. She had a mother she couldn’t be close to, and though her father was loving, he simultaneously wore the high crown of both emperor and puppet – the most exhausted and difficult father in this mortal world.

From childhood, she too had to straighten her small shoulders, helping to support part of that heaviest crown in the world that could crush a person if it fell. At three she was going in and out of the imperial study, at six she was granted the Crown Prince’s seal. She had also gone to the imperial study late at night to bring her father a midnight snack, but pushing open the door, she always saw only her father’s slightly furrowed brow.

The world has too many troubling matters, preventing me from showing a happy face.

She had never experienced such a peaceful, harmonious, homely scene, nor received a smile in such a setting.

So much so that she was momentarily confused, not knowing what evening this was. That person’s smiling face reflected in her pupils carried an inexplicable familiarity and intimacy, like an inextinguishable lamp in the long, lonely night.

But after a moment, she frowned slightly again.

Suddenly she thought of Feiyu, that mysterious top courtesan who was always missing. Inexplicable irritation rose in her heart. She felt like she had suddenly become an infatuated fool.

Attracted to everyone she met, seduced by everyone she encountered. Even her sexual orientation suddenly became ambiguously unclear. Could she be what her master called “double-edged”?

Her heart was inexplicably vexed, but she showed nothing on her face. From childhood, Tie Ci had cultivated herself to be unmoved by the eight winds – anger wasn’t necessarily anger, joy might not be true joy, and if there was any anxiety or torment, not a trace could be allowed to show.

She smiled and went downstairs, sitting beside Rong Wei. Only after sitting down did she notice that the stone where he placed the burnt grass was one of the finest pieces among the gold and stone carvings displayed downstairs – a cloud peak stone carved with the calligraphy saint’s famous piece “Sad Wind Post,” said to be the longtime treasure of the Academy Head and He Zi.

Tie Ci: “……”

Sir, is your entire life spent repeatedly jumping on the edge of courting death?

But she made no judgment about this death-courting behavior. One shouldn’t worry about too much misbehavior, and besides, she couldn’t do something as tasteless as moral criticism while eating someone’s food.

The aroma from the pot was very intense and penetrating, with a faint wine fragrance as well.

This fellow Rong Wei was so particular about even midnight snacks, going to the trouble of lighting fires and setting up stoves in the library. Tie Ci also noticed that the large pot – probably stolen from the kitchen – had its lid carefully sealed with wet paper strips. Rong Wei kept pouring water on the paper to prevent it from drying.

He stuffed grass bundles into the stove without stirring them, always waiting for each bundle to burn out completely, then braising. Tie Ci waited hungrily, discreetly swallowing saliva. After waiting a while, she couldn’t help asking: “Is it ready yet?”

“Far from it.” Rong Wei gave her a despairing answer.

Tie Ci had no choice but to wait attentively again. She didn’t ask why Rong Wei was here.

She was a bit presumptuous, afraid of asking something that would be hard to answer.

Some things she didn’t want to touch yet.

Like the paper around this pot – it couldn’t be uncovered. The time wasn’t right, it was too early.

Rong Wei was feeling the pot lid. Tie Ci’s eyes lit up: “Is it ready!”

Rong Wei opened the lid. Steam rose, revealing an oil-shining large goose inside. Tie Ci’s saliva was about to block her throat. She impatiently looked around for chopsticks, but saw Rong Wei flip the goose over, put a few steamed buns around the pot edge, then cover the lid again.

Tie Ci: “……”

This is too difficult for me.

“But it’s ready now… more or less should be fine.”

It’s just meat – judging by the color just now, it was clearly cooked.

“No way. Missing one step would be an insult to me as head chef and to this goose.”

The goose didn’t feel insulted. If you don’t give it to me soon, that would be an insult to my stomach.

Tie Ci pitifully stared at the pot lid. The head chef’s heart was hard as iron, completely ignoring her and continuing to seal the pot with wet paper and burn another grass bundle.

Occasionally looking up at the person across from him.

Tie Ci sat opposite the pot, staring intently at the lid, her face almost pressed against the pot. Her eyes were bright and moist, her hair slightly disheveled, with eyebrows and wisps of hair curling toward her temples, making her brow and eyes appear gentle and warm.

This person was born with a dignified, noble bearing – the kind of aristocratic quality that could be observed from afar but not approached casually. At this moment that sense of distance faded, letting people see the childlike quality she always concealed.

Rong Wei looked away and said: “It’s ready.”

The half-dead Tie Ci instantly revived, rubbing her hands together eagerly.

Rong Wei lifted the pot lid. Fragrance accompanied the steam, filling the entire room. When the mist cleared, inside was a whole goose with a slightly reddish oil sheen. Without touching it, one could feel the firm yet springy texture of the meat, while the outer skin was deep red and glossy, revealing plump fattiness.

The steamed buns by the pot edge were hot, with slightly golden crusts toasted on the bottom. Rong Wei split a bun in half, tore off a goose leg, sandwiched it in the bun, and handed it to Tie Ci, who was clearly drooling but still maintaining composure.

Tie Ci took it but didn’t eat immediately. She flicked her fingertip, and a silver needle silently penetrated the bun and goose leg.

Rong Wei seemed not to notice, tearing off a goose wing for himself and eating it with a bun, finishing half in just a few bites.

Tie Ci withdrew her needle and, suppressing the urge to devour everything, took a bite.

The wheat fragrance of the bun, the crispy aroma of the skin, the tender fragrance of the goose meat, the rich beauty of the goose skin – along with spurting fat and well-seasoned meat flavors – all assaulted her taste buds together. The crispy skin crunched crisply between her teeth, the goose meat was tender yet slightly chewy, while the bun was kneaded to be firm and elastic – rich in texture and delicious.

Good breeding made Tie Ci clench her teeth to avoid making appreciative sounds, since exclamations would also affect her eating speed. In just a few bites, that huge bun with goose leg was gone.

Rong Wei offered her the goose head. Tie Ci respectfully declined this time – imperial family members didn’t eat head parts. Just as she was about to politely refuse, she saw Rong Wei take the goose head back and use chopsticks to extract the goose brain: “Here, ah.”

Tie Ci instinctively opened her mouth.

The next moment the goose brain was fed into her mouth.

It had a powdery, glutinous texture with a strange fragrance.

She licked her lips, just thinking that no wonder many people liked goose heads with wine, when she heard Rong Wei say: “Supplement your brain.”

Tie Ci chuckled: “Mr. Rong must have been supplemented since childhood – no wonder he’s so smart.”

Rong Wei gnawed on the goose head: “You’re wrong about that. This is also my first time making this. I heard goose heads were delicious, so I gave it to you, but you don’t appreciate kind intentions.”

“Where did the goose come from?” Tie Ci didn’t remember any household at the academy raising geese. Even if the dining hall cooked goose, they would buy it in the morning and cook it then – they wouldn’t keep it until evening.

Rong Wei tapped the goose in the pot with his chopsticks: “Brother Goose, look – this person eats but doesn’t remember. She’s already forgotten your heroic bearing on Lingering Fragrance Lake?”

Tie Ci: “……”

Wait, brother, you cooked a swan?!