Everyone was speaking behind closed doors, even the palace maids had been sent away. Yao Rongrong never imagined that just casually mentioning this would happen to be overheard by Xiao Shu, who had gone and returned. For a moment she was both panicked and flustered, her face flushed red with embarrassment.

Regardless of whether Xiao Shu was born of a second wife or not, she was someone Yao Rongrong couldn’t afford to provoke.

She immediately stood up from her seat, timidly lowering her head to apologize: “We didn’t mean to…”

Xiao Shu laughed coldly: “Although my mother is a second wife, she was still properly married into the family by my father through formal matchmaking. There’s nothing that can’t be said about it. However, here in the inner palace, you all have truly eaten the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard. Knowing bits and pieces of unclear matters, you dare discuss anything. I’m afraid you find having your heads sitting nicely on your necks for so long too boring and are tired of living?”

Everyone’s complexions immediately changed slightly.

Jiang Xuening observed coldly from the side.

Xiao Shu only said: “You must know that if I reported what you said today, not one of you would escape punishment. Tomorrow we must study the Book of Songs and also learn qin with Master Xie. Instead of using this time courting death, why not review your books and practice the qin? At least you’ll avoid losing face tomorrow when Master asks questions in Fengchen Hall!”

Thinking of the situation in Cining Palace today, everyone still had lingering fears.

Earlier when they were chatting, the speaker was engrossed and the listeners were engrossed too—they hadn’t reacted. Now, having been pointed out by Xiao Shu’s words, they all broke out in cold sweats. Not to mention seeing her brows and eyes frozen without half a trace of smile, they also feared offending her and truly being reported to the Empress Dowager or the palace, so they all meekly agreed.

Jiang Xuening naturally had nothing to say.

Everyone scattered like birds and beasts, and she followed suit and left.

As for what developments there were regarding the Internal Affairs Bureau’s tribute of the jade ruyi, those at Yangzhi Studio knew nothing at all. They only vaguely heard some sounds of fighting and killing outside.

When evening came and everyone sat together for dinner, no one dared say an extra word.

The atmosphere was awkward and subtle.

Only Xiao Shu remained calm and composed as if nothing had happened. After eating, she even went to brew tea and asked the others if they wanted to drink together.

But who dared at this juncture?

Only Chen Shuyi and Yao Xi, who were usually on good terms with her, along with Zhou Baoying who only loved eating and was somewhat slow-witted, remained to drink tea with her.

Jiang Xuening was naturally one of those who left.

After returning to her room, she lit a lamp at her desk and took out a volume of the Book of Songs, wanting to prepare in advance for tomorrow’s class. After all, in her previous life her academic performance had been appalling, but in this life she had to properly stay under Xie Wei’s nose for half a year. Trying to muddle through probably wouldn’t be so easy.

But thinking about it was one thing, doing it was another.

The book lay right before her eyes, brightly illuminated by the lamp beside it. However, each character on the book seemed like ants crawling all over the ground, stirring her heart into chaos until she couldn’t take in a single word.

One moment she thought about the Marquis of Yongyi’s household meeting disaster, the next moment about the treasonous prophecy behind the jade ruyi, and finally about all the things Fang Miao had said regarding the three hundred righteous children’s tomb…

All flashing across her mind in alternation.

Jiang Xuening only felt her head splitting with pain. She threw down the book and lay on the bed wanting to sleep, but she couldn’t. She kept her eyes open and forced herself to stay up until midnight, not knowing at what hour she finally fell asleep.

But what one thinks by day, one dreams by night.

In her dreams there was blood everywhere, snow everywhere. Swords and blades fell, and the terrified, despairing cries and screams of three hundred children echoed in the swirling, drifting heavy snow, mingling with the mournful, sobbing north wind, carrying very far, very far…

When she came back to her senses and looked again, Xie Wei stood on that mountain of corpses watching her.

The next day when Jiang Xuening got up, the area under her eyes was dark and bluish.

The palace maid who brought in water to attend to her washing was startled.

But she said nothing. Facing the makeup mirror, she dipped into powder and rouge, carefully covering up all the haggardness around her eyes bit by bit. When she walked out of the room, she was once again radiant, making it impossible for anyone to see any flaws.

Today was the official start of classes. There were two classes in the morning.

From the first ke of the mao hour to the first ke of the chen hour was the first class, a total of one shichen, studying the Book of Songs with Hanlin Academy Lecturer Zhao Yanhong. From the second quarter of the chen hour to the second quarter of the si hour was the second class, also one shichen, learning qin with Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince Xie Wei.

So Zhao Yanhong came first in the morning.

This master was also in his forties or fifties. In the Hanlin Academy he was considered part of the scholarly faction, not deeply involved with court politics, yet he had learned a full set of skills for currying favor with the powerful.

Jiang Xuening had known early on that he, like the other two masters, looked down on women.

But only after truly studying under him once today did she realize: even when looking down on women, there were rankings.

The Book of Songs was divided into three parts: Airs, Odes, and Hymns. The first lesson studied the famous piece “Fishhawk” from “Airs of the States: Zhou and the South.” They were required to memorize it through repeated reading. But Zhao Yanhong only taught them to read it, saying what this poem was generally written around, yet deliberately didn’t explain to everyone what each specific line of the poem meant—

Rote memorization.

Although everyone had been selected as study companions, not everyone’s learning in this area was equally excellent. There were uneven levels. So Jiang Xuening boldly asked what the character “mao” meant in the line “the ragged floating-heart plants, picking them left and right.”

Who would have thought Zhao Yanhong’s face would change color, and he actually rebuked her: “During yesterday’s opening lecture演 I already instructed you to review at home. How can you ask randomly in class now? Not knowing this—what books have you been reading!”

Jiang Xuening’s breath caught, unable to go up or down.

In her heart she only cursed: A teacher’s role is to transmit the Way, impart knowledge, and resolve doubts. If this palace already knew everything, I’d first chop off your dog head—what the hell would I need you for!

However, respecting teachers and their teachings was ultimately a beam pressing down on her head.

In the end she said nothing and sat down.

If it were only this, it would be fine. After all, perhaps this wretched Zhao Yanhong was just this kind of character, treating everyone this way.

But who would have thought that when calling on people to recite poetry, he called on Xiao Shu to rise. After listening to her recitation, he lavishly praised her and actually solicitously asked on his own initiative: “In the last small section, the character ‘mao’ in the line ‘picking them left and right’ has always been rather obscure. But if you want to understand its meaning, you need only think of it in connection with what comes before…”

Xiao Shu said coldly: “Master, I know.”

Zhao Yanhong was stunned, somewhat embarrassed. The next moment he covered it over, saying: “Oh, oh, knowing is good, knowing is good. Worthy of being a noble lady of the Xiao family. Your learning truly surpasses others. With you as a study companion for Grand Princess, this old fool can rest assured.”

Everyone found this hard to put into words.

Shen Zhiyi, sitting in the center of the front row, even frowned.

Jiang Xuening glanced forward once and knew that this Zhao Yanhong was a pedantic, sour scholar. She probably didn’t need to go tattle on him—he had already made Shen Zhiyi’s list. She just didn’t know if Shen Zhiyi could tolerate him.

The class hadn’t even reached the first ke of the chen hour when Zhao Yanhong stopped and sat to the side to drink tea, only telling them to read on their own. When the copper water clock beside them marked the time, he assumed his dignified posture to receive everyone’s bows, rolled up the books on his desk, and swaggered out.

Xie Wei ran right into him when he arrived.

Zhao Yanhong was startled: “Master Xie, your class is at the second quarter of the chen hour. Why have you come so early?”

Xie Wei was in quite a bad mood today. It was windy outside, so he wore a sky-blue crane cloak, holding diagonally a qin enclosed in a dark black qin case. Standing at the foot of the steps of Fengchen Hall, hearing Zhao Yanhong say this, his brows furrowed imperceptibly.

However, such subtle expressions weren’t easily detected by others.

He laughed lightly: “It’s the first time lecturing and teaching qin. I dare not slack off. To prevent any mishaps and make more preparations, I came early.”

“I see.” Zhao Yanhong truly felt he was making a mountain out of a molehill. Even that specially compiled book was unnecessary. But Xie Wei after all held a higher rank that could crush others, far beyond what idle posts like theirs could compare to, so he only said, “Master Xie is indeed meticulous. This old fool is ashamed. Then I won’t delay your time.”

He bowed his hands in farewell.

Xie Wei, holding the qin, couldn’t return the courtesy properly, only bowing slightly toward him.

At this time, one came down from the steps and one went up from below the steps.

Jiang Xuening’s seat was originally close to the hall entrance. She heard this entire exchange almost word for word. Her body, which had just relaxed after the previous class ended, immediately stiffened again.

Then a shadow fell across her desk.

It was Xie Wei walking with measured steps from outside the hall, passing by her desk.

She didn’t dare turn her head.

Not until she glimpsed a corner of deep blue clothing passing by her side did she quietly raise her head and look upward.

Xie Wei walked up to the front of the hall and stopped. Without speaking, he only lowered his brows and eyes, placing the qin he’d been holding on the qin table. After removing the qin case, he casually strummed the strings, testing the sound. Only then did he slowly lower his palm, lightly pressing the strings to wipe away the trailing resonance of the trembling strings.

Those two sounds of tuning were like mountain springs striking stone, or as if wind surged from the bottom of a ravine. Hearing them actually made one’s heart and spirit lighten.

Setting aside for now what kind of person played the qin, the qin was definitely an excellent qin.

Jiang Xuening focused her eyes to examine the qin. She only saw the qin body was dark red nearly black, the lacquer extremely heavy, with hidden patterns like flowing water and auspicious clouds. It didn’t look old. Even without seeing the qin name inscribed in intaglio on the qin belly, she recognized at a glance that this was the most frequently used among the qins Xie Wei had made himself. It was called “Emei.”

Her heart couldn’t help but tighten.

She truly had not half a bit of talent in the way of the qin. She neither understood how to play nor how to listen. Her usual cleverness completely scattered the moment it came to learning qin, as if she were a block of elm wood.

In her previous life, learning qin had nearly made her cry from the torment.

Fortunately, later she became addicted to skipping class, and no one came to hold her accountable.

Jiang Xuening didn’t recognize many qins, but this one of Xie Wei’s was among them.

It was one day after snow, when the entire imperial palace’s red walls and green tiles were covered in silver snow. She and Zhang Zhe were walking past the long corridor outside Kunning Palace when they heard from afar faint qin music coming from the side hall of Fengchen Hall ahead.

So they stopped.

But the qin music didn’t last long before it ceased.

Before long, Xie Wei actually emerged from the side hall carrying the qin. Passing by the path ahead of them, he turned his head and saw her standing together with Zhang Zhe. He looked at her once, then looked at Zhang Zhe once. Without saying anything, he went straight toward Qianqing Palace.

Zhang Zhe said that qin was named Emei.

Jiang Xuening curiously asked him where the allusion came from.

Zhang Zhe said he didn’t know.

Jiang Xuening thought for a moment and said, “Mount Emei’s northern snow reaching as far as the eye can see, ice forming a pot in the Abbot’s Sea?”

Zhang Zhe still shook his head.

Not until later when Xie Wei burned his qin and rebelled did Jiang Xuening remember there was another couplet of obscure poetry little known to people, which said: “One shake of fame fills the imperial capital, returning still playing with the Emei moon…”