He was still the same as before, yearning for touch yet not loving himself.

Yang Wan listened to Deng Ying’s words as her hand slowly fell to his waist.

His undergarments were also made of silk, but having been washed too many times, they had a rough fiber texture when touched.

“Lie closer.”

Yang Wan said softly.

But Deng Ying remained motionless, his back rigid.

Yang Wan’s fingers curled around his waist as she pushed with her elbow, moving several inches closer to him.

“I’m the one without a family.”

After saying this, she slowly curled her body into Deng Ying’s embrace.

Though the cold autumn rain was merciless, it was still kept out by this modest room.

Inside, the bed curtains hung down, and behind them, the bedding gave off the clean fragrance of bath beans.

After Yang Wan fell asleep, she unconsciously curled her legs tighter, her knees resting lightly against Deng Ying’s lower abdomen. If they moved any lower, they would touch that place he couldn’t bear to mention.

He was already an adult when he was punished. According to Ming Dynasty rules, when castrating adult males in the inner court, to reduce mortality, they could leave some parts intact.

However, when Deng Ying was punished, he was a criminal, so the inner court didn’t show him this mercy.

Deng Ying still remembered that after his wounds healed, the Ministry of Rites came to collect people. He and other eunuchs underwent pre-palace entry physical examinations at the ministry.

The examiner coldly commented on each eunuch’s wounds.

“This one’s cut is half an inch too shallow, come look—will the inner cartilage protrude later?”

“Hard to say.”

After saying this, he looked up at the register and added, “Oh, he’s not young, the executioner feared taking a life, this kind of cut happens.”

“Tsk… this is troublesome.”

“What, should we have him ‘trimmed’ again?”

These words were directed at Deng Ying. He didn’t want to listen, but had no right to avoid it, and could only try his best to let his thoughts drift away.

At that time, Zheng Yuejia was sent by the Ceremonial Office to oversee the Ministry of Rites’ affairs. He hadn’t originally entered, but hearing the conversation inside, he glanced at Deng Ying at the door, saw him standing with clenched fists and lowered head, and asked from the side: “Is the examination inside finished?”

“Oh, almost done, just this one—we’d like you to take a look, we’re unsure.”

The person speaking looked at the register in his hand again, then raised his head and directly called out Deng Ying’s name: “Deng Ying.”

“Present.”

That person pointed toward where Zheng Yuejia stood, “Go over there, let the Ceremonial Office ancestor take a look.”

Deng Ying turned to face Zheng Yuejia, but Zheng Yuejia didn’t look at him.

He took the register and flipped two pages, casually responding: “I won’t look now, let’s wait until next year. If it’s not good then trim it again, if it’s fine, no need to make him suffer now.”

Deng Ying stood before Zheng Yuejia with hands at his sides, his whole body exposed to the thin cold of early spring.

Zheng Yuejia closed the register, clapped his hands, and said to everyone receiving examinations in the room: “You may dress now.”

After speaking, he turned and walked out.

Deng Ying put on his clothes and walked out of the ministry’s back hall with the others who had been examined.

People spoke softly about post-punishment care—avoid spicy foods, wash frequently, cultivate the mind and nature, don’t foolishly imagine being with women again; in the future, with money, just buy servants to attend to daily needs, and life can still be good.

Everyone understood the reasoning, but the desire between yin and yang wasn’t like “reason.”

It wasn’t meant to be “established,” it was meant to be “broken.”

Yang Wan’s knees now pressed lightly against Deng Ying’s abdomen, without desire, yet making him recall once more the broken image of his lower body. Perhaps “inferiority” and “self-loathing” were originally just distorted frames—besides Yang Wan, Deng Ying’s back gradually broke out in a thin sweat.

After his punishment, he had always been sensitive to cold, and aside from pain, he rarely sweated.

Moreover, he disliked the stickiness on his body because it felt unclean, but now, all five senses silently broke through his usual boundaries.

Deng Ying had no choice but to close his eyes, repeatedly recalling the oath he had made before Yang Lun.

However, in the confusion between the covers, those knees brushed against the silk material below his body. Deng Ying suddenly expelled a large breath from his lungs, his whole body seeming to instantly drain blood, as rigid as wet firewood.

He couldn’t say where it hurt, but it hurt so much he couldn’t move at all.

“Wan Wan…”

He called out to Yang Wan instinctively.

The hand that had been on his waist slowly moved between his legs, through the silk undergarments, warmly enveloping his old wound.

The “drained” blood rapidly flowed back into his limbs and body. He trembled all over, but the pain gradually subsided.

“Deng Ying, it will slowly get better.”

After saying these words, Yang Wan pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.

Fortunately, the rain outside didn’t stop. The cold autumn suppressed desire, so she didn’t flush red or feel hot.

In truth, she didn’t need Deng Ying to endure, but she had to endure.

This was her boundary with Deng Ying, and also her boundary with this dynasty.

As deep autumn reached its end, the capital’s autumn examinations were approaching their conclusion.

On the last day of the autumn examinations, fine rain fell over the capital, the ground alternating between wet and dry.

Yang Wan personally held an umbrella to escort Yi Lang to study at Wenhua Palace.

After Yi Lang entered the palace, Yang Wan didn’t leave, standing in the corridor quietly watching the rain curtain outside.

Before long, Yang Jing walked out of the palace and bowed to Yang Wan.

Yang Wan turned around, “Not attending to His Highness today?”

“No, why hasn’t sister left?”

Yang Wan turned to look into the palace, “There’s nothing urgent in the palace, so I might as well wait for His Highness to finish his studies.”

Yang Jing said: “Is sister cold? I’ll go get you some clothes.”

“No need, I’m not cold.”

As she spoke, she raised her head to look at Yang Jing.

Yang Jing didn’t look like Yang Lun—Yang Lun was tall and strong, while Yang Jing was thin and fair, his overall temperament somewhat resembling Deng Ying.

“I heard you were scolded by Vice Minister Zhang for several days in a row recently,” she started this topic in a casual tone.

“Yes.”

Yang Jing lowered his head, “I was inappropriate in my conduct, displeasing Vice Minister Zhang. Fortunately, His Highness spoke up for me.”

Yang Wan said: “Can you tell me why?”

Yang Jing nodded, “Sister must have already seen the palace edition of ‘The Five Virtuous Ones.'”

The palace edition he mentioned was the royal engraved edition, printed from blocks carved by the Imperial Workshop, considered an official book.

Yang Wan didn’t interrupt him, leaning against a tall pillar, listening attentively as he continued.

Yang Jing sighed and continued:

“Not long after Princess Ning fell ill, I didn’t want to write this book, so I requested several times to decline the task from Vice Minister Zhang, hoping to let the Imperial Academy or Hanlin Academy take over, but was ultimately rebuked by the Vice Minister. I had no choice but to write, but the text wasn’t from my heart—the words were forced, the writing stiff. Although it’s been sent to the workshop for printing, it still displeased the Vice Minister.”

Yang Wan patted his shoulder.

“Do you care very much?”

“Yes.”

Yang Jing sighed again, “This is an officially printed book, and Vice Minister Zhang asking me to write it was truly an honor. But in my heart, I’m not at peace…”

He pressed his lips together as he spoke, and after a while released them, “I’ve let down both sister and the literary arts.”

After hearing him speak, Yang Wan smiled faintly, “So young, yet thinking of so much.”

Yang Jing said: “Sister, I’m not young anymore.”

“Alright, not young. Then if… you were to suffer some hardship because of this book…”

Yang Jing started, “What does sister mean?”

Just as he finished speaking, a eunuch came running up from below the steps saying: “Reader Yang, the Embroidered Uniform Guard wants to question you.”

Yang Jing and Yang Wan both looked down at the terrace below.

Zhang Luo wore plain dark clothes and stood with several dozen guards at a place ten steps away from the imperial road.

Wenhua Palace was where the prince studied, and even the Embroidered Uniform Guard couldn’t enter the forbidden areas without explicit imperial orders.

“These ghosts again.”

Yang Jing said this and bowed to Yang Wan: “Sister, wait a moment, I’ll be right back.”

As he spoke, he lifted his robes to walk down the steps. Yang Wan hurriedly opened her umbrella and followed, “Take the umbrella, don’t get wet.”

Zhang Luo didn’t look at Yang Wan, directly telling the captains behind him: “Take Yang Jing away.”

“Wait.”

Zhang Luo turned to face Yang Wan, “If you say one more word, I’ll take you too.”

Yang Wan walked a few steps closer to Zhang Luo, “You’re taking my brother away, and I can’t even ask why?”

Zhang Luo raised his hand, and two captains immediately grabbed Yang Jing from both sides.

“Take him back, don’t interrogate him yet, wait for my return.”

“Yes.”

“Wait.”

Yang Jing broke free from the guards’ hands, “I’ll leave the umbrella with sister, I can walk myself.”

As he spoke, he handed the umbrella to Yang Wan.

Yang Wan took the handle, saying softly to Yang Jing: “Just tell the truth, don’t be afraid.”

After Yang Jing left, Zhang Luo motioned for everyone to step back, and then looked down at Yang Wan.

“What do you want to ask? Ask now.”

Yang Wan smiled, “I lied to you.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to ask anything, I even know why you’re taking my brother away.”

“What did you say?”

Yang Wan raised her head, “Did the owner of Qingbo House come to see you at the Northern Command?”

Zhang Luo started, then suddenly grabbed Yang Wan’s wrist, “How do you know?”

Yang Wan trembled in pain but showed no fear of him, “Because I wanted you to investigate this case you’re working on now.”

“You impersonated the Embroidered Uniform Guard at Qingbo House?”

“Yes.”

“Seize her.”

He gave the cold order, and several captains immediately came forward, grabbed Yang Wan’s shoulders, and forced her to kneel on the ground. When her knees touched the ground, the pain almost brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t struggle. Instead, she lowered her head and laughed once, then looked up into Zhang Luo’s eyes: “Do you want to torture me again? On what grounds? Impersonating the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Then what? Did I extort money? Or harm lives? How will you charge me? Moreover, do you have any witnesses?”

Zhang Luo interrupted Yang Wan: “What exactly do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

Yang Wan replied evenly: “Let you do what you want to do. Commander Zhang, you should have received the ‘Preface’ written by my sister now and should have submitted it to His Majesty. Next, you’ll investigate following this preface. Commander Zhang, I’ve always remembered what you told me—you won’t let His Majesty be deceived in any way. So you will investigate thoroughly. I only hope, sir, that when you touch upon the truth, you can treat the guilty ones the same way you treated me back then.”

Zhang Luo said coldly: “Just for these words alone, I can start investigating from you.”

Yang Wan shook her head and smiled: “Before, when I was a female official in the Imperial Dressing Bureau, you could take me away without informing anyone. Now, though I’m still a servant, I bear the responsibility of caring for the prince and managing palace affairs. Before taking me away, you need imperial permission. Without evidence or warrant, how will you explain my arrest to His Highness?”

Just as she finished speaking, Yi Lang’s voice suddenly came from the terrace.

“Deputy Commander Zhang.”

Zhang Luo looked up. Yi Lang stood at the terrace edge, holding the railing. He didn’t come down but looked down at everyone below, finally resting his gaze on Zhang Luo. “Why are you treating my aunt this way?”

Zhang Luo was about to reply after paying his respects, but heard Yi Lang continue: “Are you being so arrogant in front of Wenhua Palace because you think I’m young and my aunt is weak?”

After hearing these words, Zhang Luo changed to a kneeling position and said: “I dare not.”

“If you dare not, then release my aunt, or I will immediately report to my royal father and charge you with the crime of causing a disturbance at Wenhua Palace.”

Zhang Luo couldn’t rise, and could only raise his hand to signal his men to withdraw.

Yang Wan stood up supporting herself on the ground, looking up at Yi Lang.

Yi Lang’s face showed no obvious expression, “Aunt, come to me.”

After speaking, he pointed at Zhang Luo: “Until I inform my royal father, you may not rise.”

Zhang Luo knelt on the ground without responding.

Yi Lang looked at him and added: “Father established the Embroidered Uniform Guard to intimidate treacherous officials. Your treatment of my aunt greatly disgusts me.”