The mountain was covered in white snow. Looking down from the mountain, one could only see paths and wheat fields indistinct and hidden in misty clouds.

Shen Qingrang sighed in a daze and shook his head at Ye Jingchuan. “You probably haven’t seen the way she clings to me—a young lady with not half a bit of restraint or noble dignity befitting a daughter of a good family, following behind me all day.” He gave a bitter smile, turned to look at the misty landscape, and continued, “In terms of status, she certainly doesn’t bury my talents, but in my view, someone I don’t like inherently buries me.”

Ye Jingchuan felt this kind of thinking seemed familiar. It seemed several of the young masters from aristocratic families he knew well had the same mindset—on one hand finding their fiancées unsatisfactory in every way, on the other hand being constrained by their fiancées’ family power and their own family relationships, exhausted from dealing with it all.

He frowned and coldly interrupted Shen Qingrang’s self-pitying lament. “Since you don’t like her, wouldn’t marrying her home make the young lady suffer? Moreover, that Sixth Miss from the Song family is still so young, yet you use all these unpleasant words on her. Is this truly what a man should do?”

Ye Jingchuan had his obsessive points, which everyone knew. Remembering the time he was inexplicably beaten, Shen Qingrang wisely stopped the conversation and didn’t continue arguing with him. He cupped his hands and led his group to continue up the mountain.

Observers always saw things more clearly than those in the situation. Ye Jingchuan didn’t think about whether he would have other choices if he were in that position—although Song Chuyi was somewhat annoying and troublesome, marrying her wasn’t without benefits. At least his father and mother would have much less pressure, Song Chuyi’s substantial dowry could bring him many advantages, and the Cui family standing behind her was even more significant.

Compared to all these benefits, what did liking or not liking matter?

Ye Jingchuan was very indignant after hearing this, but he had no reason to chase after him and beat him up—last time he had already beaten him once because of Song Chuyi. If he beat him again, even a fool would see something was wrong. If he beat Shen Qingrang, he would only be causing more trouble for Song Chuyi.

Only after Shen Qingrang went up the mountain did he learn that His Highness the Grand Heir was also there, which made him somewhat uneasy for a moment—only then did he remember that Zhang Tianshi was still residing at the temple, and when Zhou Weizhao came to see the Celestial Master, he never brought his ceremonial guard. He just hadn’t expected to run into him.

The servants following him anxiously helped him change into formal attire. The person sent to request an audience returned saying His Highness the Grand Heir said there was no need to meet. He was immediately stunned—by rights, since he had already requested an audience and His Highness the Grand Heir hadn’t brought ceremonial guards, he should have granted the meeting. Why refuse just like that?

But thinking it over, he felt relieved again. After all, Zhou Weizhao, the Grand Heir, grew up on Longhu Mountain and probably hadn’t fully learned all the rules and etiquette yet, so naturally he did things according to his own wishes. Moreover, he was of imperial blood—whoever he spoke to could only agree.

Therefore, he gave up his original plan to watch performances and enjoy himself at the temple. After obediently receiving the protective talisman, he hurriedly led his people down the mountain.

Zhang Tianshi couldn’t help but shake his head with a smile. “You’ve scared away another benefactor. I don’t know how that old Daoist will complain about me later.”

Zhou Weizhao steadily completed the final move and landed on the ground. Hearing this, he also smiled. “Those who follow different paths cannot work together. He clearly didn’t come for the Dao. I’m sure Master Uncle also dislikes him greatly. Where’s the logic in blaming you instead?”

After he finished his movements and stood steady, Zhang Tianshi reached out to grasp his wrist and check. His tightly furrowed brow finally relaxed considerably. He nodded with a smile. “The vital energy you lost this time has finally mostly recovered. Next time you take risks on your own, even the King of Hell won’t be able to save you. Knowing full well that since that incident when you were little…”

Mentioning this matter, both their expressions instantly changed.

Zhang Tianshi left it at that and clasped his hands behind his back. “You have your own plans for your own affairs. I won’t say more. Just be more careful in the future—you don’t have a bronze body or iron bones.”

Zhou Weizhao quietly agreed, then remembered something he had asked Zhang Tianshi to do before and couldn’t help asking, “Master, about the fortune-telling I asked you to do before—what did you discover?”

Zhang Tianshi looked at Zhou Weizhao from afar, his expression immediately becoming somewhat strange. After a long moment, he nodded. “Indeed, she’s a girl with great fortune, but I actually cannot discern her fate.”

He paused and said, “Someone like this is either incomparably noble, or… Just based on that young man earlier, he cannot enjoy such blessings.”

Zhou Weizhao lowered his head to look at his own palm and said nothing.

After leaving and putting on his cloak, he turned to look at Yan Ming. “Still no news from Han Feng and Qing Zhuo?”

Ever since Song Chuyi asked him for help at the Cui residence last time, he had sent both Han Feng and Qing Zhuo to Changsha. But it had been some time, and he seemed to have received no reply.

Yan Ming clicked his tongue and laughed, glancing slyly at Zhou Weizhao. “How is it that Your Highness has also become like the Celestial Master, able to divine and calculate? News just arrived, and I haven’t had time to report it yet.”

Zhou Weizhao was too lazy to acknowledge his teasing and took the note to read before tearing it up.

Song Chuyi had indeed guessed correctly—there were people protecting Song Chuning, and even Qing Zhuo and Han Feng nearly failed.

Then they could only take the second route. After Song Chuning entered the capital, they would cut off all her connections with that side, leaving her isolated and helpless.

However, if he and Song Chuyi’s guess was correct, those people around Song Chuning should all be connected to Prince Duan. Although Prince Duan’s right-hand man in the capital had already lost one arm, there was still Chen Xiang, and Chen Xiang’s identity was so special—he was from the Imperial Guard.

When the time came, this method of isolating Song Chuning might not work either. If they let her enter the palace, then Consort Xian and Consort Liang were both in the palace—it would be like a fish entering the sea.

Although he didn’t know how formidable a little girl could be, looking at her sister Song Chuyi, he didn’t want to make unnecessary mistakes by underestimating her. It was better to be cautious.

“Write a letter to Songyun and tell her I’ll find a way.”

Songyun was given by Zhang Tianshi and her martial arts skills were no worse than theirs. This time Zhou Weizhao had also assigned her to Miss Song. Now that Songyun was by Song Chuyi’s side, writing to Songyun was the same as writing to Miss Song, wasn’t it?

Yan Ming quickly nodded, then after thinking asked him, “Your Highness, should we mention this matter about Young Master Shen to her?”

Tell her that someone was plotting against her, so Song Chuyi could be somewhat prepared.

Zhou Weizhao shook his head—it was best for others not to interfere in such matters. Although Shen Qingrang seemed somewhat despicable, who knew how Song Chuyi viewed him?