“Whatever I do in the days to come to hurt you — do not blame me for it.”

So Cui Jinzhi had said.

Li Shu watched his figure as he spurred his horse and rode further and further away.

She knew — that had been Cui Jinzhi’s final ultimatum.

From the beginning until now, both he and the Eastern Palace had been on the defensive. She had been the serpent circling unseen in the shadows, striking at Cui Jinzhi again and again from hiding.

From this point forward, the Eastern Palace would be confined and its power compressed — entering a long period of dormancy. And Cui Jinzhi would shift from defense into offense.

Henceforth — it would be a fight to the death.

“Li Shu.”

A voice sounded close by her ear — very low, but with great weight pressed into each syllable, as if the speaker carried a chest full of feeling with nowhere to release it, and hoped these two characters alone might serve as an outlet.

Cui Jinzhi was already gone, and yet she still fixed her gaze on his retreating form with such reluctance.

Li Shu was called back to herself. She startled, and quickly turned her head.

Without her knowing when, Shen Xiao had drawn close — he stood just beside her carriage. Her carriage was tall, and his gaze came in level with its window, a deep and penetrating look that wound itself around Li Shu and held her fast.

In an instant the atmosphere turned unnervingly still. Even the sound of wind and rain vanished. Li Shu felt as if she could hear the sound of Shen Xiao’s breathing.

A sudden guilt seized her, rising from no clear source. She felt it acutely, though she had done absolutely nothing — only faced an enemy with whom she had no shortage of animosity.

Yet there Shen Xiao stood, just outside the window. His presence seeped through it, falling upon her in scattered fragments.

Li Shu felt her palms grow damp with apprehension. She could not press out a single word for a long moment. In the end, steeling herself, she forced a stiff and awkward smile. “Lord Shen — what a coincidence. You have also left the city today.”

Shen Xiao: “…”

Shen Xiao fixed her with a look. “Indeed. What a coincidence.”

He had calculated the timing precisely and followed her out here — could it be anything other than a coincidence? Coincidental enough that he had seen her tangled up with her former husband.

Every feeling churned inside Shen Xiao, pent up so tightly he very nearly bored a hole through Li Shu with his gaze alone. Yet every last one of those feelings was unspeakable — impossible to say.

He suppressed it all. His sedan chair kept pace with Li Shu’s carriage all the way to the foot of the mountain below Qianfu Temple.

When he watched Li Shu step down from her carriage, he made a point of walking over — affecting the air of a chance encounter — gave a nod of his head, and finally returned the words he owed her. “Your Highness — what a coincidence. You have also come to Qianfu Temple.”

Li Shu: …

He was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?

A magnanimous minister ought to have the tolerance of a ship’s hold — and yet here was a man with a petty grudge to repay!

The incense-burning rituals and prayers ran their course, and by midday the monks had laid out a vegetarian meal.

The two of them sat facing each other. Hong Luo, according to Li Shu’s preferences, placed several dishes into her bowl — but Li Shu ate only a few bites before setting down her chopsticks.

Across the table, Shen Xiao had only just picked up his bowl when he noticed this and frowned. “You aren’t eating?”

Such a small amount. The last time he had seen her at Xiankelai, she had also eaten a few bites at random and then stopped.

Li Shu’s mind had been in turmoil all day — Shen Xiao’s unbroken expression of sternness since morning had left her feeling as though the Lord Shen was displeased with absolutely everything about her today. As if at any moment he might recite the poem about a farmer laboring in the noon-day sun, to make her feel the hardships of the common people.

Ever since being caught in an apparent ‘indiscretion,’ Li Shu felt an inexplicable guilt whenever facing Shen Xiao. She immediately grabbed her bowl. “I’m eating, I’m eating.”

Can’t I eat?

A moment later.

Shen Xiao’s bowl was already empty. He glanced across — and here Li Shu was still counting individual grains of rice.

Other people measured meals in bowls. Li Shu apparently measured hers in grains.

And so Lord Shen once again assumed the expression of a man burdened by the sorrows of the realm, and repeated: “You eat so little.”

Li Shu: …

She was done for. He was about to begin reciting the verse about sweat dripping into the soil below the crops.

Li Shu wrinkled her face and said in a small voice: “The vegetarian food doesn’t taste good.”

She absolutely must arrange for Qianfu Temple to hire a different cook!

Shen Xiao saw her expression of great suffering — that small, subdued manner of someone being forced by their parents to eat their vegetables. Had he really been that stern and demanding? He couldn’t suppress it, and let out a quiet laugh. “You are terribly picky about food. The Huaiyang cuisine didn’t taste good, the vegetarian food doesn’t taste good either. So what exactly is good?”

She went to Xiankelai every three days or so, and Shen Xiao had assumed her to be a true glutton — only to find out now she was this selective.

Li Shu’s brow creased. She wondered how he knew she disliked Huaiyang cuisine. Then she recalled how, in order to win Shen Xiao over, she had once ordered an entire table of Huaiyang dishes at a fine restaurant.

He is actually rather observant.

Shen Xiao studied Li Shu for a moment, and then, moved by a sudden thought, asked: “Do you like fish?”

Li Shu was stumped by this question that seemed to come from nowhere. She considered it and replied: “It’s… all right, I suppose. Crucian carp soup is quite good.”

And so Lord Shen gave a measured and composed nod.

Mm. Similar taste to his cat’s.

Good thing he could fish.

* * *

That afternoon, the entire temple was filled with the low, resonant drone of monks chanting scripture. Li Shu and Shen Xiao strolled unhurriedly through the grounds. Midway up the mountain, they came upon a pavilion and stepped inside.

Since the turn of autumn, the rains had gradually lessened. Mountain winds swept through the maple trees, and the hillside was washed in layers of deep and shallow red.

Li Shu let out a sigh. “Last time I came to Qianfu Temple, the trees across the mountain were still green.”

That time, she had fallen from a cliff and severed ties with Cui Jinzhi. Months had now passed, and how hearts had changed was not visible from the outside. Only the grass and trees of the mountains revealed the traces of time’s passing.

The trees endure — how then is one to endure?

The sweep of maple red across the hillside was a rare sight in these parts, and since the rain had nearly stopped today, many of the local village elders and elderly women had come up to burn incense and admire the scenery. From the pavilion, Li Shu looked down on the villagers making their way up the mountain in pairs and small clusters.

When one stood in a position of power, it was difficult to see the actual conditions of the people below. A single court edict, a single factional struggle, and the price that the common people paid was immense. The great drought in Guanzhong — while the Crown Prince and the Second Prince were fighting, the Ministry of Finance spent months unable to gather grain, unable to manage disaster relief. She didn’t know how these villagers climbing the mountain had survived those days.

She herself had played no small part in fanning those flames.

Li Shu said suddenly: “Shen Xiao, about the flooding in Luo Prefecture…”

She hesitated a moment, then finally lowered her head in acknowledgment of a mistake. “…you were right.”

If she had truly allowed the Yellow River to flood and run rampant, letting her seventh brother rise to prominence on the back of that disaster, then her seventh brother would be no different from the Crown Prince.

The midday rain had nearly stopped, and the sunlight was evaporating the mist from the mountain, wreathing the hillside in a thin veil of fog.

Power made people lose their way. In the end, one could no longer see clearly what it was one was even pursuing.

She had climbed this path step by step, and originally — it had been nothing more than the feeling of loneliness in the Cold Palace. No one cared for a princess locked away in the Cold Palace, and so she had wanted to climb higher — to reach a place lofty enough that no one would dare ignore her.

And yet in the end, one was in danger of forgetting what that original purpose had been.

Hearing Li Shu’s words, Shen Xiao suddenly gave a quiet, soft laugh.

He turned his face toward her. His eyes reflected the daylight filtering through the thin veil of mist — very dark and deep, but also very intent, fixed upon her without wavering.

It was as if — wherever she lost herself in the thick fog — he could always see her with a single glance. Then he would reach out his hand and lead her out.

Cui Jinzhi had stretched out his hand and lifted her from the dust. But after many years, they had both together sunk into the fog. And just as she had been on the verge of going under completely, there was a person who had used himself as a blade to cleave through the mist and reach out his hand, drawing her free.

He had said: you are different from others.

It was not truly that she was different from others. It was that he believed in her — that he held her hand — and so she had become someone who could be different.

A feeling took root within her heart, parting clouds and clearing fog, growing from the most tender and vulnerable place inside her.

Strange and familiar at once. This emotion made Li Shu a little afraid — and also a little expectant.

Li Shu suddenly looked away and did not dare to look at Shen Xiao again. She tightened her throat, using court affairs as a shield for her own nervousness.

“My Second Elder Brother has set his eyes on the power the Crown Prince left behind — hasn’t he?”

The Yellow River stretched across the heartland of the realm, running through the capital region, Hedong Circuit, Henan Circuit, and many other regions in succession. If anything went wrong with the Yellow River, no matter which court official was dispatched, no single minister could coordinate officials across so many different areas. For disaster relief on this scale, only a prince could be dispatched.

The Crown Prince had barely been placed in house confinement before the Second Prince submitted a memorial volunteering to manage the disaster relief. Her second brother was hardly motivated by disaster relief — he had his eyes fixed clearly on the Ministry of Works the Crown Prince had left behind, and the network of influence along the Yellow River.

Shen Xiao nodded. “Indeed. Beyond that — disaster relief requires an enormous number of people, yet His Majesty has just dismissed a great many Eastern Palace officials. The Ministry of Works is short-handed, and Henan Circuit too is short-handed.”

Whichever prince took on the Yellow River disaster relief could fill those ranks freely with his own people, and his power would rise steeply in a single bound.

The Yellow River disaster relief was a prize assignment.

Li Shu’s eyes lit up at once. “This opportunity must absolutely be secured for Seventh Brother!”

Shen Xiao saw Li Shu suddenly grow energized and smiled. “Without a doubt.”

He was so composed and unhurried. Li Shu asked: “You already have a plan?”

Shen Xiao nodded and was about to speak, but Li Shu raised a hand and cut him off. “Don’t say it. Let me guess.”

She was not about to be outdone by Shen Xiao.

“Last time, during the great drought in Guanzhong, Second Brother was blindsided by the Crown Prince. Although he managed to hold onto the Ministry of Finance in the end, he failed to make a good impression on Father. This time, the Yellow River disaster relief involves even more complex networks of power along the river. Men like the corrupt Prefectural Governor Gao Jin of Luo Prefecture will appear in far greater numbers. Yet Second Brother is strong on the outside but weak within, and has always relied on the great clans to oppose the Crown Prince — he likely would not dare to reach out and dismiss officials freely.”

“So in Father’s eyes, he is not a suitable candidate.”

Shen Xiao watched Li Shu as she reasoned it through carefully, a faint smile on his face, leaning with easy composure against the pavilion pillar.

She was so intelligent, and so self-reliant. She never leaned upon anyone. What she needed in a relationship was not to be sheltered and protected — she needed someone who would walk beside her as an equal.

Shen Xiao thought: a fifth-rank official is not worthy of the Princess. He had risen quite high — but he needed to rise higher still, before he could stand at her side as an equal.

On the other side, Li Shu was still reasoning it out. “The greatest difference between Seventh Brother and the Crown Prince, and Second Brother, and even the other princes, is that… he has never associated with any of the great clans. In fact, recently, when he put forward Gui Zhi for appointment, there was even a slight leaning toward those from humble backgrounds. So if Father wishes for someone who can break through the entrenched clan networks along the Yellow River — a neutral person capable of managing the Yellow River disaster impartially — Seventh Brother is a strong candidate.”

Shen Xiao offered a smiling counter-question: “Those are indeed Seventh Prince’s strengths — but they are also his weaknesses. He has no people of his own. How then is he to manage a disaster of that scale along the Yellow River? So many officials — how is he to handle them?”

Li Shu raised an eyebrow. “Are you testing me?”

“Lord Shen — you are yourself a shining example of those who have risen from humble origins. You were able to recommend Gui Zhi — can you not recommend still more people to Seventh Brother?”

That was a compliment, wasn’t it? And she was expressing trust in his abilities.

Shen Xiao was suddenly extremely pleased with himself. The feeling practically broke through the surface of his face — and yet he forced himself to maintain composure, gave a prim nod, and said with measured restraint: “I do have a few people in mind.”

There were many talented individuals who had sunk into minor posts — all of them capable of being lifted up and promoted by the Seventh Prince. This would not only build support for the Seventh Prince, but also align with the Emperor’s own wishes — a check on the power of the great clans.

On the other side, Li Shu had furrowed her brow again. “But the Yellow River disaster is the most difficult thing to manage. If done well, one can emerge in glory; if done poorly, one risks disaster. I am actually somewhat worried about Seventh Brother’s capability.”

Shen Xiao quieted her concern with a look. “You must trust my ability to read people. The Seventh Prince has not managed anything on this scale before, it is true — but when he first began overseeing matters in the Ministry of Rites, he encountered the tremendous affair of His Majesty’s grand offering ceremony on Mount Tai. He handled it with great steadiness — not a single fault could be found. Which goes to show he is by no means without ability.”

A dragon in shallow waters — the Seventh Prince had simply never had room enough to demonstrate himself.

Li Shu said: “It is not that I distrust you — it is just that the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Rites are not the same, and the Yellow River has never been well-managed over all these years.”

Before she had even finished speaking, Shen Xiao’s gaze drifted over to her.

If Li Shu was not mistaken, his face seemed to say three words: ask me! ask me!

It was rare for Lord Shen’s face to betray any feeling at all. Li Shu blinked and almost thought she had imagined it.

He was just like a child in a schoolroom who knew the right answer and was waving his hand frantically, desperate to be called on by the teacher and praised with a gold star.

Li Shu ventured the question: “You have a good method for controlling the floods?”

Shen Xiao’s expression was grave and unhurried, utterly indifferent — and gave only a light “Mm.”

Li Shu could not suppress it, and glanced behind him.

If a person could have a tail, then behind this steady, composed face of Shen Xiao’s, his tail would surely be wagging with abandon by now.

I know the right answer! Ask me! Praise me!

And so Li Shu, ever accommodating, and fearing that Shen Xiao might wag his tail right off, asked again: “What method?”

Shen Xiao was about to speak — and then he glanced down, and there was Li Shu’s face, fine and pale as porcelain.

He suddenly remembered — just moments ago, Cui Jinzhi had touched Li Shu’s face. So intimate, that sight.

The old vinegar he had been holding down inside him had spent this whole time fermenting, until by now it was a sky full of sour rain.

He turned the question back on her: “What were you doing just now with Cui Jinzhi?”

Drawing on her years of experience navigating the battlefields of court, Li Shu recognized this with a keen instinct: this was a question with only one safe answer.

She replied with knife-edge certainty: “Nothing at all!”

Shen Xiao narrowed his eyes. “Nothing at all?”

The tail of his voice lifted just slightly, carrying in it a thread of threat.

Did he think she was blind?

Shen Xiao pointed to Li Shu’s wrist. Then he pointed to her cheek.

He grabbed her wrist. And he stroked her face.

Li Shu’s confidence immediately wilted. “It was truly… nothing at all.”

Nothing had happened! But why did she feel as if she had been caught red-handed?

A frost crept into Shen Xiao’s eyes.

Li Shu’s palms were sweating with nerves, desperately wishing she could draw a picture for Shen Xiao of exactly what had occurred — how Cui Jinzhi had threatened and coaxed, how she had stood her ground in unyielding resistance.

In the end, Li Shu said: “I was frightened… I was threatened by Cui Jinzhi!”

Li Shu glared at Shen Xiao. “You don’t care about me — and now you’re interrogating me!”

The wind changed direction entirely. The outcome reversed.

Shen Xiao thought: this is a question with only one safe answer.

Li Shu pulled back her sleeve and looked at her wrist. Cui Jinzhi had not used real force, and no red mark was left.

Shen Xiao lowered his eyes and looked at her wrist. Her skin was very fair, and beneath the surface of her wrist the faint tracery of veins showed through, carrying a kind of fragile beauty — as if it would snap with the slightest pressure.

“Cui Jinzhi doesn’t seem the type to only speak empty threats.”

Shen Xiao’s tone was deeply worried. “I am afraid he may use some ruthless scheme against you.”

The cliff fall last time — what would it be this time?

Shen Xiao clenched his hand tightly, wishing he could stand guard at her side every one of the twelve hours of the day.

But Li Shu was unconcerned. “There’s no need to worry. The Eastern Palace cannot touch me.”

Another assassination attempt? Her entourage was thick with guards now. Since the cliff incident, the Emperor had also placed great weight on her safety. Cui Jinzhi was not so foolish as to strike beneath the Emperor’s very eyes.

Come after the Seventh Prince? No — Cui Jinzhi should not have discovered her connection to her seventh brother yet.

Li Shu massaged her wrist. “Don’t worry about me. Nothing will happen.”

She wore an entirely untroubled expression. But Shen Xiao, looking at her calm face, could only feel a deeper, hidden pain beneath it.

As if it had been hurting for so long that in the end she had gone numb — so that no matter what stabbed at her again, she could receive it with perfect indifference.

Shen Xiao felt a sudden impulse to take her into his arms — but ultimately held himself back.

He only reached out slowly, once again enclosing Li Shu’s wrist in his hand.

With one part tentative exploration, and nine parts tender care.

Shen Xiao’s hold was very light. With only the slightest effort, Li Shu could have pulled free. But beneath his palm, the wrist shifted slightly — as if giving voice to some inner struggle — and yet after a long moment, in the end, she did not pull away.

Li Shu turned her face aside. She did not look at Shen Xiao. She did not look at her own hand. She regarded the clouds and mist slowly dissolving away between the mountains — with a manner that said she was utterly unaffected, and yet her body was tense.

She was not truly afraid of Cui Jinzhi — not of whatever method he might use to come after her.

She was a very hard and unyielding person. She had carried only one weakness in the past, and that was Cui Jinzhi alone — and now even that weakness had been forged into steel through a hundred temperings.

Yet Cui Jinzhi’s weaknesses were many: he had the Cui Family to look after, the Crown Prince who blundered constantly, and the great clans who had pledged their loyalty to the Eastern Palace — a mix of the worthy and the worthless.

Cui Jinzhi had far more weaknesses than she did. In a true close-range clash, a fight to the death, Li Shu had absolutely no fear of him.

She was armored from head to toe in hardened steel. She had no fatal wound.

The autumn sun fell into the pavilion, scattering across Shen Xiao where he stood beside her.

She truly had no weakness… did she?

Or perhaps she simply had not yet noticed.