He patted Qi Ying’s shoulder, faintly showing a bitter smile, and said: “That would be for the best—Father Emperor trusts you, which is why he entrusted the spring examination chief examiner position to you. Do it well.”

These words carried some sourness.

If you asked what the Third Prince cared about most now, it would naturally be his father’s intentions—whether he truly wanted to establish him as heir. He had originally felt that Emperor Liang intended to establish him, but now entrusting the spring examinations to Qi Ying, who was of aristocratic family background, was difficult to interpret as meaningless—had Father Emperor’s mind changed? Did he want to establish Fourth Brother? Was he now laying groundwork through the spring examination matter?

Xiao Zihuan couldn’t figure it out and dared not think about it.

Qi Ying naturally heard this implication and smiled inwardly.

He knew the Third Prince’s current anxiety and dejection, but in his view, Xiao Zihuan was overthinking.

Their emperor was someone with profound thoughts. Though constrained by aristocratic families throughout his life, he had never lost his grip on court affairs—this wasn’t something mediocre and foolish people could achieve.

Everyone believed this spring examination chief examiner position was Mo Yufeng’s way of currying favor by presenting it to him, but in Qi Ying’s view, the matter wasn’t so simple: Mo Yufeng was merely a Hanlin Academician—could such a major matter as the spring examination chief examiner be changed just because he said so? There must have been the emperor’s authorization behind this.

This matter wasn’t Mo Yufeng instigating the emperor at all, but the emperor using his hand to place the spring examinations in Qi Ying’s charge.

The spring examinations for selecting officials concerned the foundation of the state. Entrusting such a major matter to him must have some purpose, and according to Qi Ying’s speculation, this move probably contained the meaning of forcing him: the emperor was forcing him to represent the Qi family in choosing a position on the heir apparent.

The Qi family’s stance on establishing an heir had never been clear, unlike the Han and Fu families which were obvious at a glance. The Han family was the Fourth Prince’s maternal clan, and Fu Rong had now become Xiao Ziheng’s principal wife, so these two families had thoroughly boarded the Fourth Prince’s ship with no way to change.

Only the Qi family—the most prestigious and firmly rooted Qi family—had not yet revealed their stance on establishing an heir. This was a decision made by Qi Zhang. Qi Ying understood his father’s thinking: the Qi family had already reached the pinnacle, and even without the merit of supporting the dragon, they were the irreplaceable number one aristocratic family in Jiangzuo. They had no need to take risks by placing bets—they only needed to stay out of it and watch from the sidelines.

This was the Qi family’s confidence and also their arrogance.

But Qi Ying had always felt his father’s attitude wasn’t secure. After all, the Qi family was already sitting in such a position—even if they wanted to stay out of it, they probably couldn’t extricate themselves in the end. Take this spring examination chief examiner position—wasn’t the emperor using it to force the Qi family to choose? If he rejected common family candidates, he would naturally be seen as standing with the Fourth Prince; and if he suppressed scholarly families—even if just judging fairly—he would be seen as defecting to the Third Prince’s side.

Even if their Qi family didn’t want to get involved in the succession struggle, they ultimately couldn’t remain unaffected.

Unfortunately, Father hadn’t yet seen this clearly.

Qi Ying’s heart was like a clear mirror, having long taken in everything, but speculating about the emperor’s mind had always been a great taboo in court. He couldn’t explain this to the Third Prince, so he could only let him fall into anxiety and fear on his own without saying more.

For a moment, both men harbored their own thoughts—one as if lost in clouds and mist, the other seeing through everything with cold eyes.

On the other side, inside the Buddha pavilion, Shen Xiling was praying before the Buddha with Shuipei.

Speaking of which, Shen Xiling’s Buddhist devotion originated from her father.

Her father enjoyed reading Buddhist scriptures and often told her mysterious and profound sentences. She couldn’t understand them then, and her father didn’t mind, simply telling her small stories from treasure scrolls instead, speaking of karmic retribution, good and evil obstacles, and the pure original mind.

Inside the Buddha pavilion were one hundred and eight golden arhats, and Amitabha Buddha sat in the main position with kind brows and benevolent eyes, looking down on all beings as if able to ferry away all suffering.

Shen Xiling knelt very devoutly before the Buddha and made three wishes.

Her first wish: she prayed for her parents’ smooth reincarnation, free from worries and fears, finally achieving perfection.

Her second wish: she prayed for Qi Ying’s health and wellness, success in all matters, and family prosperity.

For her third wish, she harbored selfish desires, praying…

…to always be together with Qi Ying.

She even hoped… he could become her beloved.

She knew this was a very greedy wish, but she still couldn’t control such fantasies. Especially the scene of them eating crabs together in Wang Garden a few days ago had given her some hope—perhaps… perhaps he wasn’t completely without such feelings…

She wanted to always lean against him like that day, enjoying his care and companionship. Even if he ultimately didn’t like her, she hoped to always stay by his side.

Even when she grew up and came of age, she didn’t want him to send her away.

Shuipei watched from the side, seeing her young miss kneeling before the Buddha, her pretty face quietly turning red, and naturally could guess who she was thinking of. In the pure Buddhist sanctuary, she wanted to laugh but didn’t dare, and only after leaving the Great Buddha Pavilion did she dare to tease, covering her mouth and laughing: “What wish did Miss make? Your face is so red.”

Shen Xiling was embarrassed, her cheeks blushing. She was naturally beautiful, and now with her shy and timid appearance, she was even more attractive. Even Shuipei, just a maid, couldn’t help staring somewhat dazedly, then heard their miss say quietly: “Can’t tell people—if you tell, it won’t come true.”

Hearing this, Shuipei laughed again and said: “Telling us might indeed not make it come true, but telling Young Master would be different—as for Miss’s matters, even if the Buddha and bodhisattvas don’t handle it, Young Master will definitely take care of it.”

Though this was teasing, it was also fact.

Over these years, he had treated her better and better. Whatever she wanted, he almost never went against—except for things like eating and horseback riding…

He doted on her very much, but Shen Xiling didn’t know if he would be as she truly hoped…

Her face grew even redder.

Shen Xiling knew her face was hot and, fearing more teasing from Shuipei, quickly interjected: “Let’s hurry up. Young Master must be getting impatient…”

Shuipei knew her young miss was embarrassed and also understood the principle of not pursuing a defeated enemy too far. She smiled and agreed, then went down the stone steps of the Great Buddha Pavilion with Shen Xiling.

Looking down at the bottom of the steps, they saw Qi Ying was no longer in his original spot—only Bai Song stood there holding his sword.

Shen Xiling found this strange and went forward to ask Bai Song: “Brother Bai, where is Young Master?”

Bai Song nodded to her and gestured with his chin toward the relic pagoda. Shen Xiling turned to look and saw Qi Ying walking with a man dressed in dark purple brocade robes—a stranger she didn’t recognize.

From here, she could see Qi Ying and Xiao Zihuan, and naturally the two men could see her as well.

Not only had Shen Xiling never seen the Third Prince, but the Third Prince had also only heard her name without seeing her. Now looking from afar beneath the relic pagoda, he finally saw this rumored little lover that Qi Ying kept.

She was truly… a peerless beauty.

The Third Prince had seen countless beauties in his life, but had never seen one beautiful to this extent. Though they were far apart, he could still see her extremely graceful figure. Those wonderful eyes looking this way were misty like smoke and rain, and there seemed to be a red mole between her brows, more radiant than all the red maples covering Qixia Mountain.

Truly stunning.

He stared somewhat transfixed, lost in thought, when he suddenly heard Qi Ying’s voice: “Your Highness.”

Xiao Zihuan snapped back to attention and looked at him sideways. Though his expression showed no change, his entire aura had grown heavy, so he knew his earlier extra glance at that lover had made Qi Ying feel offended.

Such a person who normally kept his emotions hidden was now so obviously showing displeasure, which both surprised Xiao Zihuan and aroused his interest.

With such beauty in that lover, no wonder even someone like Qi Ying couldn’t avoid worldly desires, secretly hiding her for so many years and now even bringing her out. But his sixth imperial sister’s infatuation with Second Young Master Qi was already well known—with her temperament, how could she tolerate this?

Xiao Zihuan naturally didn’t want to watch Qi Ying become his fourth brother’s brother-in-law. Once he truly married Xiao Ziyu, the Qi family’s position would be truly settled with no possibility of mediation. But if their marriage fell through, then…

Xiao Zihuan’s heart stirred secretly. On one hand, he hoped that little beauty would quickly bewitch Qi Ying into losing his composure and thereafter openly disrupt his marriage with Xiao Ziyu. On the other hand, he was secretly calculating that he should personally go have some casual conversation with his sixth sister recently.

As he was calculating, he heard Qi Ying taking leave, so he concealed his thoughts and smiled: “This king has disturbed your rare rest day. I hope Jingchen won’t mind.”

The two men exchanged false pleasantries for a few sentences, then parted. Qi Ying watched Xiao Zihuan circle behind the relic pagoda, presumably leaving through the temple’s back door. Only after he disappeared from view did Qi Ying withdraw his gaze and turn toward Shen Xiling.

From beneath the relic pagoda to the front of the Great Buddha Pavilion was merely a few dozen zhang, but Qi Ying thought about many things during that time.

He suddenly realized he had made a mistake.

He shouldn’t have brought Shen Xiling out at all. His current position and the situation he faced weren’t suitable for involvement with any woman, let alone her—Prime Minister Shen’s daughter.

But that day at Wang Garden, he had lost his composure. They hadn’t seen each other for half a month, and he was moved by longing. Moreover, he was slightly intoxicated then, and the sight of her leaning against his knee was too beautiful, causing him to make an impulsive mistake by suggesting he take her out for an autumn excursion.

Only upon encountering Xiao Zihuan did he truly come to his senses and realize how improper this was.

What was even more wrong was that he increasingly felt his own absurdity.

Earlier, when he noticed Xiao Zihuan looking at her, it wasn’t how an adult looks at a child, but how a man looks at a woman. He could see the interest and desire in Xiao Zihuan’s eyes, and this could so easily make him angry.

What kind of feeling was that? Being coveted? Being violated?

She was merely the orphaned daughter Prime Minister Shen had entrusted to his care, destined to grow up and leave him eventually—hadn’t he decided this long ago? Then why was he angry?

What exactly did he hope for her? Or rather, what did he want with her…

As he approached, Shen Xiling immediately sensed the change in his emotions.

She understood him more and more. As a child, she could only vaguely guess his moods, but now she read them increasingly accurately. For instance, at this moment, she knew he was in a bad mood, or perhaps it was more serious—his aura was somewhat heavy.

Earlier, Bai Song had told her the purple-robed man was Prince Duan. Shen Xiling had some understanding of the current court situation and knew he and Qi Ying held opposing positions. Seeing Qi Ying’s serious expression now, she guessed he had encountered some unpleasant matter in politics.

She was somewhat worried about him and asked: “Young Master… did something happen?”

Qi Ying glanced at her indifferently, seeing the little girl looking at him with slightly furrowed brows, those wonderful eyes full of worry and caution, making his heart feel even heavier.

He was silent for a while, then smiled reassuringly at her and answered: “Nothing—are you finished praying?”

He changed the subject quickly, and Shen Xiling could see he didn’t want to say more, so naturally she couldn’t ask further. She just nodded, then heard him respond, his face calm but his spirits still low: “Then let’s go back.”

Hearing this, Shen Xiling was stunned.

They rarely went out together, and it was only shortly past noon. She had thought they could still visit other places, or at least eat a vegetarian meal together at the monastery. She hadn’t expected him to suggest going back now.

She was somewhat surprised and also disappointed.

She really wanted to spend more time with him.

However, Shen Xiling had always been very understanding. She could see he had matters weighing on his mind, and his concerns were all important matters. She couldn’t delay him for her own selfish desires, so after only a brief pause, she obediently answered: “Alright, let’s go back.”

Author’s Note: How to put it—every time I write this kind of scene, it makes me particularly feel the loneliness of Qi Ying’s character. He sees too clearly, and clarity makes one weary.