Su Jin went to the Imperial Clan Court to submit her official seal. Eunuch You, the steward from the Eastern Palace, was already waiting for her outside.

On the way to the Eastern Palace, Eunuch You said: “The Crown Prince and Thirteenth Prince went to Minghua Palace to visit His Majesty. Seventeenth Prince doesn’t know what he did wrong—as soon as we returned from the winter hunt, Thirteenth Prince sent him to the Shen residence, saying he should follow Young Lord Shen to learn some sense.”

Su Jin asked: “Has Lord Shen already arrived at the Eastern Palace?”

Eunuch You said: “He arrived just past noon and is currently in Chuihua Main Hall teaching the young prince to read.”

The New Year had passed. Though the melting snow weather was cold, it couldn’t suppress the vigorous spring energy. The elm tree outside Chuihua Gate had sprouted new branches, with fresh tender leaves verdantly green at the treetops.

Looking past the treetops, Shen Xi was sitting in the hall drinking tea. Zhu Lin toddled over to his knees, holding up a thin booklet.

Shen Xi glanced at the book title: “What’s so good about reading the Thousand Character Classic?” He set down his teacup and leaned toward Zhu Lin. “How about uncle recites a scene from Legend of the White Snake for you?”

Zhu Lin pulled the book back, raised his face and looked at him with seeming comprehension.

Shen Xi coaxed persuasively: “It’s about a white snake who transforms into human form and marries a poor scholar to repay a debt of gratitude. Want to hear it?”

Zhu Lin blinked his eyes and nodded.

Just as Shen Xi was about to begin, Shen Jing laughed from the side: “Be careful not to corrupt Lin’er. If your brother-in-law finds out, he’ll scold you for showing off your tricks to Lin’er.”

Shen Xi leaned back in his chair lazily: “Then what should I teach him? Poetry, books, rites, records, classics, histories, philosophers, collections—the tutors from the Hanlin Academy and Directorate of Ceremonial will force him to study those in the future. But in this life, the Heavenly Way is impermanent. People fear this impermanence because they cannot escape the constraints of basic needs and the entanglements of seven emotions and six desires.”

He winked at Zhu Lin. “Uncle seems to be telling the story of White Snake, but is actually speaking of the mortal world. Once you penetrate three parts of worldly fate, you can stand out from the crowd in this chaotic world and live with clear vision. This is the proper worldly path of being human.”

Hearing his heretical nonsense, Shen Jing smiled and pulled Zhu Lin away. Outside, Eunuch You brought Su Jin in.

Su Jin wore a blue-green cloak over her fourth-rank insignia robe, quite similar to Shen Xi’s attire. Zhu Lin tilted his little head and stared at her for a while. Probably finding her approachable and pleasant, he broke free from Shen Jing’s hand, solemnly opened a page of the Thousand Character Classic, and presented “Heaven and Earth are mysterious and yellow, the universe vast and desolate” before her.

Su Jin didn’t understand his meaning. Shen Jing bent down and said softly: “Censor Su and uncle have matters to discuss. Later mother consort will read it to you, alright?”

Zhu Lin thought about it and obediently nodded. Only then did Shen Jing take his hand. She inexplicably said to Su Jin: “Thirteenth will have evening meal with Father Emperor at Minghua Palace today. If Censor has no pressing matters, you might as well stay longer at the Eastern Palace.”

Incense for refreshing the mind burned in the hall. After Shen Jing left with Zhu Lin, Shen Xi dismissed those nearby and said to Su Jin: “Qian Zhihuan has retired. Did you know?”

Su Jin said: “I heard on the way here.”

Shen Xi lifted his robe hem and sat before a chess board nearby, picking up a white stone to replace the black stone at the small eye position. “So I’m wondering if we got the target wrong. The key to Qian Yu’s death isn’t the Yulin Guards, but rather his father, Minister of Finance Qian Zhihuan.”

Since leaving Fenglan Mountain, Su Jin had heard from Zuo Qian that during the winter hunt, Zhu Minda had actually encountered danger, but those trying to harm him weren’t the Yulin Guards—they were a group of shadow guards hidden in the forest.

There were twenty or thirty shadow guards. If not for the Yulin Guards’ desperate protection of Zhu Minda, they couldn’t have held out until the Jinwu Guards and Huben Guards arrived as reinforcements.

Unfortunately, these shadow guards were all death warriors. Once captured, they all swallowed poison and committed suicide. Wu Yusheng had desperately held two by their throats to keep them alive.

Su Jin held the black pieces, thought carefully, and placed a stone: “The wet nurse’s words were ‘everything is fake.’ According to your meaning, my lord, since the Yulin Guards are loyal to the Crown Prince, then this word ‘fake’ falls elsewhere.”

Qian Yu’s death at the palace front hall actually had two consequences—for the Crown Prince, it purged the Yulin Guards; but for Seventh Prince Zhu Zhaowei, it severely damaged Qian Zhihuan, causing him to nearly lose this money tree of the Minister of Finance.

Since the first consequence was real, then perhaps the second consequence was fake.

Shen Xi pondered: “Brother-in-law will soon ascend the throne. After his enthronement, he certainly won’t spare Zhu Zhaowei’s life. If Zhu Zhaowei wants to survive, he has only two paths: first, send assassins to kill the Crown Prince; second, return to his domain of Fengyang before the Crown Prince’s enthronement.

“He’s already tried assassinating the Crown Prince—the shadow guards during the winter hunt were presumably his work. But he failed. So now he only has the second escape route left—return to Fengyang.”

Su Jin said: “Letting Seventh Prince return to Fengyang is like releasing a tiger back to the mountain. The Crown Prince will certainly find a way to keep him in the capital.”

“Correct.” Shen Xi nodded. “This method is Minister of Finance Qian Zhihuan.”

Qian Zhihuan and Zhu Zhaowei were allies. Shen Xi holding evidence of Qian Zhihuan’s embezzlement was equivalent to having leverage over Zhu Zhaowei. As long as they brought out this leverage after court resumed and used it to prosecute Zhu Zhaowei, he would have to remain in the capital.

“Zhu Zhaowei is meticulous. He certainly prepares escape routes in advance. Perhaps Qian Yu’s death at the palace front hall was precisely him setting a trap to force Qian Zhihuan into despair, making him consider retirement?”

Su Jin said: “Lord Shen means that Seventh Prince’s plan was: once the winter hunt assassination failed, use the Eastern Palace’s prosecution as an excuse to make the already despairing Qian Zhihuan retire before court resumed. This way, after court resumes and the Crown Prince ascends, without Qian Zhihuan as a witness, he cannot prosecute Seventh Prince, who can then openly return to Fengyang?”

Shen Xi raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose: “It seems so now.”

Su Jin stared at the chaotic game on the chess board: “If so, with the Crown Prince’s enthronement imminent—from the seventh to the fifteenth, during the blessing prayers, spring welcoming, and military inspection, who will guard his safety?”

Shen Xi said: “Wu Yusheng was slightly injured protecting brother-in-law during the winter hunt, but currently brother-in-law only trusts him. From the blessing ceremony through the military inspection, he’ll lead troops to accompany him. However, during the military inspection, among the Northern Main Camp’s twenty garrison divisions and one hundred thousand soldiers, who knows which division might harbor treacherous intent. Early this morning, Thirteenth already petitioned His Majesty to have the Jinwu Guards also accompany brother-in-law during the military inspection.”

Su Jin took a diagram from her sleeve: “I had Zhai Di obtain the defense schedule for all military divisions in Yingtian Prefecture during the New Year period from the Five Cities Military Commission. From Zhaojue Temple for the blessing ceremony to the eight city gates during spring welcoming, Lord Shen and I should review it once more.”

Actually, such troop deployment schedules would be clearest if reviewed by Zhu Nanxian. Shen Xi and Su Jin could only calculate based on troop numbers.

The two discussed until late into the night when a palace maid came to report: “Reporting to Lord Shen, Censor Su—the Crown Prince has returned and summons both lords to the main hall.”

Shen Xi was accustomed to frequent comings and goings at the Eastern Palace. Hearing this, he thought and said: “This official still has matters not yet clear. I won’t go.”

Su Jin had originally wanted to see Zhu Nanxian before he left, but upon reaching the main hall, she learned from Zhu Minda that Zhu Nanxian had refused the Qi family marriage today and was punished by Emperor Jingyuan to kneel at Minghua Palace—no one knew when he could leave.

Su Jin calculated the time in her mind. Remembering she still had to rush to Liu Chaoming’s place at the hour of Yin tomorrow to collect the letter, she didn’t linger further and rose to take her leave.

Zhu Minda looked at her and suddenly asked leisurely: “Would you be willing to follow Thirteenth to Nanchang Prefecture in the future?”

Su Jin didn’t know how to answer for a moment. This was after all a thought she’d pondered endlessly in private.

Fortunately, Zhu Minda didn’t press for an immediate answer. Instead he said: “This palace did indeed once harbor killing intent toward you, but I’ve also seen how Thirteenth has treated you all these years. You are after all a woman. Though exceptionally talented, remaining in the court is ultimately improper. Thirteenth is benevolent and willing to do all he can to protect you. As for whom he endured punishment before Father Emperor today—that need not be mentioned. This palace hopes you will think carefully and not disappoint him.”

Su Jin said with lowered eyes: “This humble subject receives the Crown Prince’s teachings and will consider it.”

Zhu Minda said no more: “Very well. You may go.”

After Su Jin left, Shen Jing emerged from the side chamber and asked: “Your Highness, did she agree?”

Zhu Minda glanced at her and said gently: “Rest assured. I’ve said what needed saying. Let’s see if she can think it through.”

Shen Jing made an acknowledging sound but walked toward the hall exit.

Zhu Minda was startled and called warmly: “Ajing.” He said: “Tomorrow we still must go to Zhaojue Temple for blessings. It’s already late—won’t you rest?”

Shen Jing said: “I want to look in on Qingyue. I’m somewhat worried about him.”

Zhu Minda nodded: “It’s good you check on him. Qingyue has been somewhat off lately. He’s been like this since childhood—when he can’t figure things out, he takes it out on himself.”

The night was cool. Feeling stuffy in the hall, Shen Xi moved to sit on the stone steps under the eaves.

A crescent moon hung in the sky canopy. He looked up, not knowing how long he gazed, when suddenly a gentle voice came from beside him: “It’s so late—why aren’t you sleeping?”

It was Shen Jing.

She wore a lotus-colored dress, holding a wind lantern. Her graceful features looked like a celestial maiden who had mistakenly descended to the mortal world.

Shen Xi shook his head: “I’m not sleeping. I can’t figure out Qian Zhihuan’s retirement. I feel like I’ve only broken through the surface appearance, as if someone has cast an illusion over my heart.”

Shen Jing smiled gently and draped the outer robe from her arm over him: “You’re always like this. You don’t care about most things, but once something enters your heart, you must break it apart and examine it thoroughly until you understand completely. Wouldn’t it be better to let things be?”

As she spoke, following Shen Xi’s gaze, she too looked at the half-crescent moon in the sky and smiled: “Third Sister will give birth soon. Today His Highness promised me that after his enthronement, when spring deepens and the weather warms, he’ll allow me to take Lin’er to visit her. Go with me then. We three siblings haven’t been together for many years.”

Shen Jing had always been measured in joy and sorrow, but when she said this, she looked very happy.

The three siblings had been close since childhood. Shen Jun had married into North Ping Prefecture several years ago and had only returned once in between. At that time, Shen Xi had gone south to Hangzhou and wasn’t in the capital. Shen Jing had looked forward to a reunion for a long time.

Unfortunately, Shen Xi was preoccupied with Qian Zhihuan’s matter, always feeling there was a flaw somewhere. He didn’t pay much attention and only replied: “We’ll see. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future.”

Shen Jing could only sigh silently and said softly: “Alright then. Don’t worry too much either.”

Having said this, she glanced at him again, lifted the wind lantern, turned and retreated into the night.

Those footsteps were light and soft. Somehow, they fell upon his heartstrings.

Shen Xi turned his face to look at Shen Jing. Her slender, delicate back was gentle, yet he detected a trace of loneliness. He unconsciously raised his hand, wanting to call out to her, but ultimately set his hand down and sank back into his previous contemplation.

He felt there would be time in the future.

Su Jin rested at the Imperial Censorate that night. Rising at the hour of Yin, she collected Liu Chaoming’s letter from An’ran and rushed to the pavilion outside Zhengyang Gate, where Zhu Nanxian was already waiting on horseback.

It was the hour of Mao. Outside the pavilion, dew on the wild grass was bleak and cold. Su Jin dismounted. Because there were garrison soldiers behind Zhu Nanxian, she performed a formal salute to him.

Zhu Nanxian saw her hurried appearance and asked: “You have business.” He asked again: “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Su Jin said: “I’ve eaten.” She lowered her eyes and added: “I do have business—the Imperial Censorate has an urgent letter that I must personally deliver to the Office of Transmission.”

Zhu Nanxian was startled: “The Office of Transmission distributes letters every day at the hour of Chen. You must arrive before Chen at the latest. So are you leaving now?”

Su Jin pressed her lips together: “Yes. I fear arriving late would delay my lord’s important matter. At present I could only spare this brief moment to see Your Highness off.” She raised her eyes to look at Zhu Nanxian, some reluctance in her gaze. “Actually I have more to say to Your Highness, but unfortunately there really isn’t time. Ayu calculated that at Your Highness’s pace, you should reach Hangzhou Prefecture in three days. After I deliver this letter today, I’ll write another urgent letter to Hangzhou. Remember to collect it at Hangzhou Prefecture’s Office of Transmission.”

When she spoke, even her breathing wasn’t steady. A strand of hair had escaped from her coiffure and was blown across her forehead by the wind, making her lashes tremble involuntarily.

This trembling reached Zhu Nanxian’s heart. She truly had rushed to see him. Somehow, Zhu Nanxian couldn’t help saying: “Then I’ll accompany you to the Office of Transmission.”

Su Jin was astonished: “How can that be proper?”

He was a domain prince. His journey was calculated in advance. Setting aside the delay of half a day, it was also early spring with melting snow—roads were treacherous and difficult. What if an accident left them stranded in the middle of nowhere?

But once Zhu Nanxian said it, he meant it. He said: “No matter.” He turned, stepped into the stirrup and mounted his horse, grasped the reins, and smiled at Su Jin: “Aren’t you going? Lest you delay your important matter.”

At the horizon’s end, the sun broke through clouds. Morning light poured over his tall figure on horseback, that smile containing a thousand measures of spring radiance.

From the city gate pavilion to the Office of Transmission took at least an hour. Su Jin was ultimately half a quarter-hour late—this was the first time in her life she’d delayed official business for private matters. Fortunately, Zhu Nanxian urged his horse and caught the Office of Transmission clerk distributing letters, so the Imperial Censorate’s urgent letter wasn’t delayed.

By the time they returned to the pavilion at Zhengyang Gate, it was nearly noon. Beyond the city stretched fields of mist-like grass. The morning’s intense sunlight had become mild and pleasant.

Su Jin dismounted and said to Zhu Nanxian: “Last night I thought carefully and always felt something was wrong about Qian Zhihuan’s retirement, but I can’t explain why. Now with the Crown Prince’s enthronement imminent, once the domain princes return to their domains, unrest may arise anywhere. Your Highness’s power base is in Nanchang. At this critical juncture, you should immediately return to Nanchang to organize your garrison forces. If war breaks out, you can march to the capital to serve the king. As for the situation at the Su residence in Qizhou after Ayu’s uncle passed away, Your Highness can send someone to inquire on Ayu’s behalf. There’s no need to go personally.”

Zhu Nanxian said: “Good. Matters have priorities. But I will certainly send someone trustworthy to Qizhou to investigate thoroughly for you, so you can be at ease.”

He thought again, seeming somewhat sorrowful. Looking at Su Jin, he said: “Imperial Brother mentioned to me that after his enthronement, he must reduce the domains. Under such pressure, there will certainly be rebels. When I return to Nanchang, I must organize troops and await orders. I cannot easily leave. You… remember to write me often. I’m not skilled with words, but I will certainly read each letter carefully and reply to each carefully.”

Unexpectedly, hearing this, Su Jin laughed softly: “How can I make Your Highness waste daylight hours laboring over correspondence?”

The early spring wind was cold, but for the first time Zhu Nanxian saw such a warm smile in Su Jin’s eyes.

She said softly: “Ayu has already thought it through. After the Crown Prince ascends and the court situation stabilizes somewhat—whether domain princes occupy territories or the realm falls into chaos—Ayu will petition Lord Liu to send Ayu to Nanchang as an inspector censor. That way, I can accompany Your Highness in the future.”

Zhu Nanxian stared at Su Jin in a daze. After a long while, he finally said: “You mean it?”

Su Jin nodded.

Then the corners of Zhu Nanxian’s mouth moved. He seemed very happy, yet didn’t dare express it genuinely, as if afraid of disturbing this beautiful dream. His Adam’s apple moved up and down. He swallowed most of the smile about to surface on his lips, his gaze burning like stars: “Then good. When the weather warms more and the roads improve, when you’re ready to come to Nanchang, I’ll petition Imperial Brother for permission to leave Nanchang for two months to come to the capital to receive you. If I ride fast horses day and night without stopping, it takes only ten days. When bringing you back, I’ll accompany you slowly. I…”

But these words could never be finished.

From the vast wind sounds, from the temple in the western part of the city, suddenly came the mournful toll of an ancient bell.

The lingering bell sound echoed—twelve times in total.

Zhu Nanxian remembered this bell sound. It was the old bell placed atop the pagoda of Zhaojue Temple in the western city. Whenever monks struck it, it resounded throughout all of Yingtian City.

One toll for dawn, two for dusk, three for spring’s arrival, four for geese departing south, seven for grain rains falling, eight for frost descending and bestowing clothing, nine for Qingming Festival honoring the deceased, ten wishing only for the nation’s eternal prosperity, and twelve tolls—for national mourning.

National mourning was a ceremonial system implemented three days after a death in the direct imperial line.

Father Emperor had still been in the palace this morning. Then for whom did this heavy, sorrowful bell sound, tinged with some panic and warning?

Zhu Nanxian stood motionless outside the pavilion. High above was fierce sunlight; at the wall’s base, wild grass grew long. The sharp spring wind brushed past his robes. The starlight that had flickered in his eyes for over twenty years suddenly extinguished.