“Who are you?” Ziqing was instantly on guard, and with a light flick of her fingertip, she snapped in half the tree trunk the man had been clinging to. The man tumbled to the ground with a thud, and only then did Ziqing get a good look at his face — he was actually a scholar!

Judging by his appearance, he didn’t seem to know any martial arts. So in this desolate wilderness, how had he ended up here?

Could he have been tailing her the whole way? But no, that didn’t seem right either — someone with his level of skill could never have escaped her notice!

“Who are you, and why were you secretly following me?” Ziqing demanded coldly.

The scholar, however, took his time getting up, rubbing his head, then his arm, then his knee, all while completely ignoring Ziqing. He spent a good while straightening his robes and brushing off the dust before finally lifting his head to look at her.

He wasn’t as devastatingly handsome as Jun Beiyue, who outshone every hero alive, but even compared to the other men Ziqing had met, this one was hardly plain — he carried a distinctive scholarly air that was strangely captivating, elegant and quiet, untouched by the dust of the world.

At just that first glance, he gave off a sense of ease and refreshment, as if he had fallen from the heavens themselves, blossomed out of a lotus flower — utterly clean and unspoiled.

“The ancients said, ‘Body, hair, and skin are gifts from one’s parents; one dare not damage them,'” the scholar declaimed, tilting his head back as though reciting poetry, full of feeling. Only then did he turn to look at Ziqing. “Miss, by injuring my body you have made me unfilial. You must come home with me to see my parents!”

What kind of twisted logic was that? Utterly pedantic!

Ziqing immediately laid a dagger across the scholar’s throat and said coldly, “Who are you?”

Yet the scholar, far from being afraid, once again tilted his head back and intoned as if reciting verse, “The ancients said blades have no eyes. Miss, do be careful!”

As he spoke, a pair of fair, gentle, slender and handsome hands reached out to gently try to push Ziqing’s blade away. Ziqing showed no mercy — she pressed down with a touch more force and immediately cut open the scholar’s finger!

“Ow—!” The scholar hastily withdrew his hand, sticking the injured finger in his mouth, and stumbled back several steps. “Miss, you truly have injured me. You must come home with me and explain yourself to my parents! You must take responsibility for me!”

“Answer my question, or I’ll kill you right now!” Ziqing warned coldly.

“I can answer your question, but you must first agree to come home with me!”

Wretched scholar, wretched scholar — this must be exactly what they meant by someone so stubbornly pedantic he was more foul than a stinking rock in an outhouse! It seemed he wouldn’t shed a tear until he saw his own coffin.

Ziqing narrowed her eyes and advanced step by step. The scholar retreated fearfully, yet instead of begging for mercy, he began lecturing her instead, opening his mouth to cite the classics yet again. “Miss, the ancients said men and women should not touch hands in passing things to one another — please, stop coming closer!”

Ziqing paid him no mind, her small face utterly expressionless and cold. Not only did she keep closing in — the dagger in her hand pressed even closer than she did.

At last the scholar stopped, his heels at the very edge of a cliff. Finally, he spoke something reasonable. “Miss, if you have something to say, let’s talk it through properly. The ancients said sincerity is precious, but life is even more precious!”

Ziqing grabbed him by the collar and shoved him hard toward the edge. The scholar’s face went pale with fright, and he cried out, “Let’s talk, let’s talk it through properly!”

“Just who exactly are you?”

“I’m a scholar who came to Lishao Mountain to seek out a teacher. Year after year I’ve sat the imperial examinations, and year after year I’ve failed, so I came here to ask Prince Baxian to take me on as his student.”

Ziqing was faintly startled. “Who recommended you to come here? How do you even know Prince Baxian lives here?”

Prince Baxian had always been a figure who existed only in legend — legend, because virtually no one of Ziqing’s generation had ever laid eyes on him. He was of very advanced age, the imperial uncle of Emperor Tianhui. After the previous emperor had passed, he had been so deeply disappointed by the imperial princes turning on and slaughtering one another that he resigned his post and retired into seclusion on Lishao Mountain.

From that point on, whether he was alive or dead, and where he might be, remained unknown. Rumor had it that Emperor Tianhui had spent days trying to seek him out, without success.

The fact that Prince Baxian was still alive was an imperial secret — and yet this scholar actually knew it!

“I happened to pass through here once — right about where we’re standing now — and I saved Prince Baxian’s life. He then told me his true identity and said that if I ever needed anything, I should come find him,” the scholar said earnestly.

“Where in Lishao Mountain does he live?” Ziqing asked again.

“Apricot Blossom Village in Lishao Mountain, by the bluestone bridge!” the scholar answered instantly, without even needing to think.

Only then did Ziqing release him. This fellow didn’t seem to be lying — she herself had spent a very long time investigating before she’d managed to find that location.

The scholar hastily backed away from the cliff’s edge, watching Ziqing warily.

“Wretched scholar, so what you’re saying is that Prince Baxian owes you a favor?” Ziqing asked seriously.

“It’s not exactly a favor. It’s just that Prince Baxian said that since I saved his life, he would agree to do one thing for me — anything at all!” the scholar answered honestly.

Ziqing suddenly stepped closer, smiling. “What condition would it take for you to hand that favor over to me?”

“You’re looking for Prince Baxian too?” the scholar exclaimed in shock.

“Answer my question,” Ziqing said flatly. Prince Baxian was hardly the sort of man who could easily be coaxed out of seclusion — she had spent the whole journey thinking up every possible reason and every possible way to invite him out, yet had never felt certain any of them would work.

And here, right in front of her, wasn’t this a ready-made favor she could use?

“Miss, you have injured my body and hair, plunging me into unfiliality. If you agree to come home with me to see my parents, I’ll hand this favor over to you!” the scholar said without hesitation.

“See your parents for what purpose?” Ziqing didn’t understand.

“See my parents, get married, and fulfill filial duty together with me!” the scholar declared, utterly righteous.

“Pah!” Ziqing lost her temper, something rare for her, spittle flying right onto the scholar’s face — yet he only continued to gaze at her with the same earnest sincerity.

Ziqing was truly furious now. Not even Chu Feiyan, Xuanyuan Zhaoxi, or Jun Beiyao, that whole lot, had ever managed to infuriate her this badly!

She pressed the dagger directly against the scholar’s throat and said coldly, “Either you die, or you take me to Prince Baxian and get him to help me. Once this is done, I, this princess consort, will see to it you’re granted an official rank of the third grade!”

Ziqing had assumed the scholar would be terrified, but instead, he glanced at the dagger, then at her, and asked with great seriousness, “Consort of Prince Yao, what business do you have with Prince Baxian?”

“You — you know who I am?”

Ziqing had, admittedly, revealed her own identity, but still — this scholar could at least show some reaction!

“Da Zhou has only one prince and one princess consort. Naturally, you are the Consort of Prince Yao, who now holds great power in her hands,” the scholar said very seriously.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Ziqing asked.

“Even if you are the Consort of Prince Yao, if you keep injuring my body again and again, making me fail my parents again and again, you still must come home with me to see them!” the scholar insisted, utterly in earnest.

“You actually know I hold great power — you’re quite well-informed,” Ziqing said again. That night at the Court of Judicial Review in the capital, everyone present had been imperial family and court officials — none of them would have leaked the truth so easily, and certainly not the fact that Jun Beiyue had been gravely wounded. Otherwise, Da Zhou would already have descended into chaos.

“After the battle at the northern frontier, Da Zhou effectively became Prince Yao’s domain. With Prince Yao gravely ill, this realm naturally belongs to the Consort of Prince Yao. This humble one understands astronomy above and geography below, and knows the various nations of the Longyuan continent like the back of my hand — what a pity that I simply cannot pass that wretched imperial examination!” the scholar sighed repeatedly. Before Ziqing could respond, he continued earnestly, “By that same reasoning, if you come home with me to see my parents and marry me, what is mine becomes yours — and this favor from Prince Baxian, you may use however you please.”

The Longyuan continent had no shortage of eccentric people, but a scholar this clever and yet this pedantic was still something to behold.

Ziqing paid no mind to his repeated insistence on “coming home to see his parents.” She pressed the dagger against the scholar’s throat once more and said coldly, “It seems you’ve chosen death.”

The moment she finished speaking, she truly didn’t hesitate, and pressed the blade in harder. To her surprise, the wretched scholar immediately surrendered. “Han Ziqing! I agree!”