The Lantern Festival, three days of illumination.

In the palace, the lanterns of Aoshan rose from the ground, with colorful lights flowing and turning, never ceasing throughout the night, as if one were in a crystal fairyland.

Yet despite such lively illuminations, beneath the palace gates, it was so quiet that not a single human voice could be heard. Groups of civil and military officials passing by all wore what seemed like heavy masks on their faces, appearing blurred and indistinguishable in the swaying lantern shadows.

Two young eunuchs sweeping snow stepped aside. When the officials had gone far away, one elbowed the other and asked softly: “Hey, is there some important court meeting today? Why are all the officials coming to the palace in their official robes instead of resting for the Lantern Festival?”

“You don’t know yet? A hen is crowing like a rooster at dawn, and they’re going to rectify ritual propriety.”

“So it’s for this. In my opinion, how can a woman contend against Heaven? After all this arguing, it will likely end with killing the chicken to warn the monkeys—what a pity…”

“Shh! Do you have a death wish? Is this something we can comment on?”

The other young eunuch hurriedly silenced him, and both shuddered and walked away with lowered heads.

Dawn approached, and the cold penetrated to the bone.

In Chaoyu Palace, candle flames flickered, reflections dancing in clusters on the mirror-like floor tiles.

…

…

Zhao Yan sat on the couch with her hair loose and her clothes undone, her lowered eyelids bearing a hint of sleepy drowsiness between waking and sleeping. She raised her head, allowing Wenren Lin to place a warm towel on her face, wiping it bit by bit from her cheeks to her eyes and brows.

“What style of clothing would Your Highness like to wear today?” asked Wenren Lin, his tone so ordinary it was as if she were not going to face a court interrogation and sentencing, but rather going out to enjoy viewing the lanterns.

Zhao Yan pondered for a moment, quickly making up her mind: “A dress, something bright and vivid.”

Wenren Lin raised his eyes, somewhat surprised.

Meeting his gaze, Zhao Yan broke into a smile: “Those traditionalists describe me as a bloodthirsty demon. I insist on facing them as I truly am, as a woman.”

Wenren Lin recalled how not long ago, Zhao Yan had said she wanted to be her true self again, to wear the clothes she wanted to wear, to do the things she wanted to do.

Although he wasn’t particularly eager for the young princess’s bright and delicate feminine appearance to be on display for everyone, just thinking about the shocked faces of those stubborn old men brought him a measure of satisfaction.

Wenren Lin stood up and instructed Cai Tian, who was waiting outside the hall: “Go to Hegui Pavilion and bring the chest from the low cabinet in the inner chamber.”

After Zhao Yan had finished washing up, Cai Tian arrived with the chest as instructed.

Opening it, she saw a complete set of bright rose-red gauze skirts paired with a snow-white sable fur coat, complete with pearl and jade hairpins, all adding considerable color to the room.

Zhao Yan raised a finger to stroke the fabric, as smooth as an infant’s skin, and looked at Wenren Lin with curved eyes: “How do you happen to have women’s clothes hidden in Hegui Pavilion?”

Hearing this, Cai Tian answered silently in his heart: This is just one of many sets.

The Prince had, from some unknown point in time, developed a fondness for collecting these girlish items. Whenever he saw something suitable and beautiful, he would point and purchase it, placing it in his residence or pavilion. Occasionally, he would sit in his chair and look at them for a while, lost in thought about who knows what.

Wenren Lin raised his hand to lower the gauze curtain and strolled over unhurriedly, saying: “Try it on to see if it fits.”

Cai Tian tactfully withdrew, closing the door behind him.

During the more than half a month of her confinement, Zhao Yan had always appeared in men’s clothing. Today, she finally loosened the silk band binding her chest and changed into women’s clothing, feeling both melancholic and unburdened.

The young woman in the mirror wore no makeup, dressed in vibrant rose-red gauze skirts, and wrapped in a flawless snow-white sable fur coat. To look at her was like seeing snow gathered in the moon, unparalleled in her nobility.

Wenren Lin bent down and placed his hand over her still-bruised knee through the skirt, speaking very softly: “Can you walk?”

Zhao Yan nodded: “I can. You’ve been insisting on applying medicine every day, so it hardly hurts anymore.”

To prove her point, she specifically stood up and took several steps back and forth in front of the mirror, the bright skirts flowing like ripples with her movement.

The remnant snow in the courtyard was crisp and hard. Two neat rows of imperial guards were already waiting at the steps. Zhao Yan walked a few steps toward the hall entrance, then stopped.

Wenren Lin had been accompanying her at her side and also stopped, saying in a low, mellow voice: “Is there anything else not properly arranged?”

Zhao Yan sniffled, suddenly turning to throw herself into Wenren Lin’s embrace.

Her cheek pressed against his chest, her arms tightly embracing his waist, she uttered one word: “You.”

—And you, whom I worry about.

Wenren Lin lowered his eyes, his lips forming a slight, faint curve.

He reached out to straighten a pearl ornament in Zhao Yan’s hair, his voice calm yet powerful: “Your Highness once promised this prince to see the lanterns together. Do you still remember?”

Zhao Yan was stunned for a moment, then nodded gently.

“After the debate, remember to fulfill your promise.”

Wenren Lin spoke lightly, as if she were merely going out for a walk to clear her mind and would return soon.

Zhao Yan felt even more at peace in her heart, raising her head to smile brightly: “I will.”

A thin white line appeared on the horizon, as if covered by a cold gauze veil, not yet fully bright.

The imperial guards led the way, and Wenren Lin, with his hands behind his back, “escorted” Zhao Yan. When they reached the palace gate, he looked at the head still hanging there for public display, and his eyes darkened.

“Your Highness, lower your head a bit,” he suddenly said.

Zhao Yan was puzzled but did as told.

Although she was looking down at the ground, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed what seemed like a knife nailed to the door with something hanging from it.

After passing through the palace gate, Wenren Lin allowed her to raise her head again.

Seeing several people standing by the palace path, Zhao Yan was momentarily stunned.

Liu Ying supported Empress Wei, standing in front. Behind them were Liu Baiwei, Huo Zhenzhen, Zhao Xuan, and even Pei Sa, who stood with a bandaged arm and a cane. In the dim dawn, the lanterns in their hands glowed warmly.

“Is Your Highness’s wrist injured? They didn’t torture you severely, did they?”

Liu Baiwei couldn’t help stepping forward, glaring at Wenren Lin through gritted teeth.

“I’m fine, thanks to Prince Su’s secret care.”

Zhao Yan glanced at her concerned or solemn friends, feeling a surge of warmth in her nose. “Why have you all come?”

Liu Baiwei said: “Your Highness has forgotten that the Young Master Pei and I are both entitled to enter the hall, so naturally we should accompany Your Highness.”

Empress Wei looked at her daughter, who had clearly lost weight, her eyes bloodshot, but her voice still cool and steady: “No matter the situation, find a way to buy time.”

“I understand.”

Zhao Yan nodded, smiling brightly. “Without everyone, I wouldn’t have made it to today. Thank you.”

The interrogation was to be held in Jiying Hall, a spacious and imposing place that could accommodate hundreds of officials. Zhao Yan ascended the steps with the dawn, and facing the clamorous hall doors ahead, she took a long, deep breath of cold air, exhaling through her lungs.

At such a moment, to say she wasn’t nervous or afraid at all would certainly be a lie.

Zhao Yan whispered in her heart: Zhao Yan, I must do this; please lend me a bit more of your light.

Ready, Zhao Yan quietly extended her wrist to Wenren Lin, saying softly: “We’re about to enter the hall. Please put the iron cuffs and chains on me.”

Wenren Lin looked at her voluntarily extended wrist, still wrapped in bandages, but did not take out the shackles.

Just as Zhao Yan was puzzled, she saw Prince Su, dressed in a jet-black cloak, bow his head in front of all the civil and military officials, and extend his arm to support the young girl’s slender, slightly cool fingertips.

“Don’t be afraid, walk forward,” he said in a voice both austere and reassuring. “If anyone dares to speak against you, this subject will kill them; if Heaven stands in the way, this subject will rebel against Heaven.”

He was willing to lower his status, referring to himself as a subject. Warmth climbed up from her fingertips, and Zhao Yan’s heart suddenly trembled as she looked at him in disbelief.

Wenren Lin maintained a calm gaze, even one that could be described as deeply affectionate.

Many officials in the hall turned to look, and seeing this scene, they all pointed fingers and wagged tongues, engaging in heated discussions.

Zhao Yan knew that Wenren Lin would not leave her alone to bear the blame.

Compared to the weight of his words, anything she could say would seem pale and weak. The best response to Wenren Lin was to walk in with her head held high, to fight on, to win, and to silence all those who disapproved.

Zhao Yan nodded silently, steeling her resolve, and with Wenren Lin’s company, stepped into the great hall with the faint morning light.

The key leaders of the traditionalist faction were all under investigation for crimes, but the remaining unorganized crowd was still vast. The hall buzzed with whispers as officials automatically lined up on both sides, casting complex or angry glances at her.

Perhaps they hadn’t expected that standing before them was not some vicious, evil, nation-stealing demon, but a clear-eyed, delicate, and beautiful young woman.

Zhou Ji stood at the forefront of the few officials supporting “lenient treatment,” his gaze falling on Zhao Yan, who came against the light, as if after seeing countless sails, he suddenly felt a sense of reunion after a long separation.

This was one of the few faces he could recognize, still as lively and bright as in his memory.

Zhao Yan stopped, nodding and bowing to Zhou Ji and others, sincerely saying: “I am deeply grateful to all of you for your mediation at court.”

Zhou Ji returned the bow frankly: “Your Highness accepted this dangerous mission with a clear mind. What we seek is merely to have no shame in our hearts.”

At this, officials on the opposite side all turned to look, with someone saying quietly: “Look at this behavior! The civil officials have no backbone of civil officials, and the prisoner lacks the humility of a prisoner. In a court interrogation, why not kneel?”

This grating voice provoked a chorus of agreement.

“Princess Changfeng has not yet been convicted; according to protocol, there is no need to kneel during questioning.”

Liu Baiwei and his group immediately retorted, and just as it seemed an argument would break out, Wenren Lin turned the Grand Preceptor’s chair that the palace servants had brought up, its legs making a creaking sound against the floor as he sat down beside Liu Baiwei and Zhou Ji, resting his sleeves against the chair back, his eyes like black ice.

The subtle difference in the direction the chair faced was enough to demonstrate Prince Su’s attitude. The traditionalists, recalling the criminals who had been taken away the previous night, confirmed their suspicions and suddenly dared to be angry but not to speak out.

Palace Eunuch Feng, who was sitting in to observe, looked hesitantly at the curtain behind him. Behind the yellow gauze, a shadowy figure slightly raised an arm, indicating that he need not intervene to stop the proceedings.

Palace Eunuch Feng understood and retreated to one side.

An elderly official stepped forward, pointing at Zhao Yan with anguish: “When a nation is about to fall, there must be demons!”

With this hoarse, painful accusation, the curtain of the court interrogation opened.

Zhao Yan stood calmly, countering unhurriedly: “To prophesy the nation’s decline in court is a capital offense. Between the esteemed minister and me, who truly resembles the demon disrupting court order?”

“You!”

The elderly official had no rebuttal and was so angry his eyes nearly burst from their sockets.

Another, younger civil official stepped forward and questioned: “Princess Changfeng, is it true that from the tenth month of the seventeenth year of Tianyou, you impersonated the Crown Prince?”

“Correct.”

“Who instructed you to do this?”

“No one instructed me.”

Having opened her mouth, Zhao Yan’s state of mind instead became calmer. “Wei Yan, using my name, wrote letters to poison my blood-related elder brother. With internal and external turmoil, both publicly and privately, I had to return to uncover the truth. Should I have ignored my brother’s cause of death and allowed the Great Xuan to be destroyed by the schemes and tricks of petty people?”

“Even so, why not retreat and relinquish power after overcoming the crisis?”

“What do you mean by ‘overcoming the crisis’?”

Zhao Yan laughed lightly, asking in return, “Do you mean the quelling of the rebellion, or the clearing of false accusations? The purification of the court, or peace, throughout the land? Or are you merely suggesting that with a replaceable young prince, all worries are resolved? If so, I must ask in return: to whom are you truly loyal?”

Her words were clear, forcing a commotion in the hall.

“People have lifespans, nations have their destiny—such is fate, not something a mere woman can interfere with!”

The interrogator opposite finally thought of a breakthrough argument. “Refusing to relinquish power, I see Princess Highness was addicted to usurpation, forgetting who she is. Sitting in the Eastern Palace, participating in politics, attending imperial lectures—enjoying privileges reserved for the heir apparent as a woman is truly disrespectful and violates proper ethics!”

“All of you have studied the sages diligently and should know ‘when things encounter injustice, they cry out,’ and ‘protecting the world is the responsibility of every common person.’ If everyone has this responsibility, what does it matter whether I am male or female, old or young?”

Zhao Yan continued: “Since ancient times, there have been female generals and female ministers who were skilled in both civil and military affairs, leaving their names in history. Although I am not their equal, I understand sibling affection and know right from wrong in the bigger picture.”

“But does Your Highness know that those female generals all went to battle as substitutes for their fathers or husbands, and female ministers were given the title of imperial consort? They all obeyed their fathers and husbands, served their rulers, with loyalty and filial piety above all in their hearts! But you, Your Highness, wanted to grasp imperial power yourself, playing with authority—how can you compare to those virtuous women? I think Your Highness should go back and read a few more pages of the ‘Female Admonitions’ and learn the ways of submission for concubines and wives.”

With these words, those who had been speechless before became impassioned, nodding and agreeing continuously.

Zhao Yan pretended to ponder: “I am very curious, why is there no ‘Male Admonitions’? If there were, you should all learn from it.”

“You… what did you say?”

Everyone was dumbfounded. How could there be ‘Male Admonitions’ to discipline men? This was utterly absurd!

Zhao Yan continued: “You see, this is where the problem lies. Women are silenced by ‘three obediences and four virtues,’ their hands and feet bound, indoctrinated with ignorance and submission. But if they were to read books and understand principles just like men, to know how to govern the world and the country, they might well achieve greatness. As for the ‘Female Admonitions,’ this is not a book written for women, but Ban Zhao speaking on behalf of men. Only voices that conform to men’s wishes are heard, while those that do not are labeled as ‘demonic words’ and completely suppressed, just as you are all doing to me now.”

“Your Highness’s words are treasonous and insult the sages!”

“We are here today to determine guilt, not to engage in verbal contests. Stay calm, don’t let her lead us astray.”

The young man who had spoken first cleared his throat and stepped forward: “When Your Highness impersonated the Crown Prince, didn’t you use your position to gather followers, form factions for personal gain, and defile the palace chambers?”

These last few words fell heavily in the great hall, like hammer and chisel.

Zhao Yan was momentarily silent, and the questioner, thinking he had found a weak point, became increasingly smug.

Zhao Yan’s silence was not because she felt guilty—her actions had been upright, and she had never allowed personal feelings to override the greater good. She was merely astonished at how simple it was to destroy a person: just arbitrarily label them, and they could be pressed down beyond hope of lifting their head.

“Your Highness, to prove one’s innocence requires cutting open the abdomen to examine the heart.”

In her ears echoed Wenren Lin’s meaningful words from last year in the hot spring pool at Yuquan Palace.

When facing slander and criticism, one must counterattack. Once one falls into the trap of proving one’s innocence following the other’s aggressive rhetoric, there is no hope of salvation.

“Esteemed officials, haven’t you got it wrong?”

Zhao Yan tugged at the corner of her mouth, saying loudly: “To convict a person, you should present witness testimony and physical evidence, not require the accused to prove their innocence. Evidence of guilt—do you have any?”

There was a moment of speechlessness from the opposite side.

Liu Baiwei felt vindicated in his heart and couldn’t help but applaud.

Wenren Lin’s lips moved slightly, and the long fingers resting on the chair’s armrest loosened, tapping lightly with satisfaction.

The morning light poured generously through the hall doors. His beloved stood amid brilliant radiance—how dazzling she was!

Seeing that Zhao Yan was “impervious to oil and salt” (unmoved by their attempts), the group of officials turned their questions toward Zhou Ji and Liu Baiwei, trying to extract evidence of Princess Changfeng’s crimes from these two “subjects under her skirt.”

Little did they know that the true “subject under her skirt” was leisurely sitting in a chair, looking down upon the court.

Liu Baiwei’s verbal skills were no less than Zhao Yan’s, and after just a few sentences, he was ready to retort sharply. Zhou Ji had a better temper, but due to his extreme integrity, nothing unfavorable could be extracted from him either.

The elderly official who had been anguished earlier thought Zhou Ji was deliberately concealing information and, in a moment of frustration, spoke without restraint: “As a student of the Left Chancellor, achieving success at a young age, yet disregarding ritual propriety for a woman, you fail to repay the Emperor’s vast grace above, and below, you betray your ten years of diligent study! What a pity that one of the ‘Two Jades of Li’s Gate’ would willingly sink so low!”

Zhou Ji clasped his hands and bowed as a junior would, calmly replying: “This junior paid respects to his honored teacher and studied the sages precisely to understand right from wrong, black from white, to have keen ears and clear eyes, and to have no shame in his heart.”

“Perhaps you knew all along that there was a woman in the Eastern Palace, which is why you’ve been so supportive, colluding with her.”

A young civil official shook his sleeves heavily, as if drawing an invisible line, and spat: “I look at you all and find you utterly despicable!”

Zhao Yan’s brows furrowed slightly.

She wasn’t afraid of being cursed by thousands, but she truly detested this behavior of splashing dirty water on her friends when they couldn’t win an argument, yet still calling it “justice.”

Just then, a hoarse and steady voice came from outside the hall: “Zhou Wanlan is old master’s most proud student. Although our views differ, he never shows favoritism or conceals wrongdoing, and is a person of pure integrity. You should not question the character of old master’s student.”

“Left Chancellor.”

The officials bowed respectfully to Li Kexing, who wore a deep purple official robe with a golden fish pouch at his waist.

The young man who had been cursing hadn’t expected Li Kexing to defend Zhou Ji and also cupped his hands, his face flushed as he said: “This junior spoke rashly, truly shameful.”

“I understand completely now. When you speak these prejudiced words, they’re not aimed at me as a person or my actions, but at my identity as a woman.”

Zhao Yan squeezed her fingers within her sleeves, her breathing becoming slightly rapid, and she decided to speak her mind directly.

“Determining high and low by gender, noble and base by class—it’s because you fear women taking your positions, just as you fear scholars from humble backgrounds sharing in your power and status.”

She stepped forward, her voice like a gentle knife, cutting open the hypocritical masks of those opposite her. “You’re not judging my crimes, but whipping my identity as a woman, teaching me to be submissive. What you’re defending isn’t justice, but your interests!”

Her voice fell like jade, resonant and clear.

Faced with the angry embarrassment of those opposite, Zhao Yan steadied her breathing and smiled derisively: “Having such people standing in the court is the true misfortune of our Great Xuan.”

They were speechless.

Even Liu Baiwei was stunned by Zhao Yan’s gentle yet profound questioning, unable to react for a long while.

The sun reached its zenith, warm light dispelling the cold mist, making the remaining snow sparkle crystal clear.

In this extreme silence, a very soft laugh suddenly sounded.

Everyone looked up to see the man sitting in the chair, his features profound, his cold eyes gazing at Princess Changfeng as if spring wind were melting ice, full of undisguised admiration and smiles.

The drums of noon sounded, and Zhao Yan knew she had survived this first round.

The traditionalist officials scattered together, seemingly to discuss their counterattack for the next round of questioning.

Zhao Yan’s forcefully maintained strength drained away, her vision wavered, and her stiff, painful knees felt like ice piercing through bone, causing her to stagger a step.

Before Liu Baiwei could move, Wenren Lin had already steadied her with one arm, his expression normal as he handed her a cup of tea at just the right temperature. Liu Baiwei frowned slightly and had no choice but to fold his arms and retreat to stand with Zhou Ji at a distance.

Palace Eunuch Feng came out from the inner chamber, smiling as he said: “Your Highness, please follow this old servant to take a rest.”

Zhao Yan had just breathed a sigh of relief, looking at the shadowy figure behind the yellow gauze curtain. Taking advantage of the moment, she set down her teacup she gave Wenren Lin a reassuring look.

Their gazes met, and only then did Zhao Yan turn back, smiling and nodding to Palace Eunuch Feng: “Very well.”

Unlike the vast coldness of the great hall, the inner chamber was filled with warm fragrance, as warm as spring.

The Emperor, wearing a Taoist robe, sat in the upper seat, looking through the transcripts of the “court interrogation” presented by the palace servants. Who said what, what actions were taken—all was recorded clearly.

“In the past, it was the Emperor and Empress who neglected to discipline you, always thinking that the youngest daughter could be freer, and it wouldn’t matter much.”

The Emperor pressed his temples, his spirit not as vigorous as in previous years, but still imposing without anger. “The Emperor originally thought that after a few days of solitary reflection, you would understand how to be obedient and restrained. Unexpectedly, you’ve even taken the sharpest knife at the Emperor’s side for your use. The Emperor called you for a private conversation to ask you one last time: do you still see the Emperor as your sovereign father?”

The sharpest knife…

Zhao Yan suddenly realized: Is this how Father Emperor describes Wenren Lin?

Then, when Father Emperor allowed this dangerous and sharp knife to be placed beside her, to be her Grand Tutor, what was he trying to do? Turn her into a whetstone, or use the knife to constantly warn her not to covet things that didn’t belong to her?

This outcome between her and Wenren Lin was certainly not what Father Emperor had anticipated.

“Prince Su is still useful to Father Emperor, so Father Emperor will sacrifice this daughter first.”

Zhao Yan’s voice was very calm, but on closer inspection, it contained a hint of light mockery. “This daughter was pushed to the forefront, subjected to verbal flaying, seeking only to defend herself, never intending to disobey Father Emperor. Thinking about it now, Father Emperor is truly the one with superior tactics, having cooperated with me to stage this show for a whole year.”

“Changfeng, the Emperor has been giving you chances all along. You are the Emperor’s daughter—how could things come to this unless necessary?”

The Emperor closed the transcript book, holding it in his hand and saying, “But a daughter must also have fear. You and your brother are the same, relying on your cleverness, with no regard for the sovereign father’s heavenly authority.”

Brother…

Father Emperor’s mention of Zhao Yan caused an inexplicable chill to crawl up Zhao Yan’s heart.

“This daughter recalls a question that has puzzled me for a long time.”

Zhao Yan looked up at the Emperor, her voice tense. “Father Emperor’s ears and eyes are clear; having known early on that Zhao Yan met with misfortune, it shouldn’t have been difficult to discover who was behind it. Yet Father Emperor never took any action, allowing Wei Yan to roam free for a whole year. Did Father Emperor overlook this, or is there some reason… that made you feel Wei Yan could not be touched?”

The Emperor’s hand holding the book tightened slightly, his gaze pressing down heavily.

Zhao Yan suddenly felt constricted; her knees, after standing for so long, could hardly support her, and she almost fell to her knees.

She gripped her fur coat tightly, pressed her lips together, and returned his gaze, as stubborn as in her childhood.

In the hall, Wenren Lin still stood with his hands behind his back, opening the window of the hall to let in large patches of pale sunlight.

He stood in the pale winter sun, his fingertips casually rubbing the dark iron ring on his index finger. He hadn’t worn this thing for a long time; it wasn’t as warm and smooth as a jade ring, and somewhat uncomfortable.

He had never been a patient person, and would wait at most another quarter hour. If the young princess’s plan hadn’t taken effect by then, he would have had to stride in and drag her out.

Wenren Lin narrowed his eyes until the sound of a heavy cane tapping the ground came from outside the hall.

Tap, tap, slow and steady, from far to near.

He slowly turned his profile, looking toward the figure being supported in the hall, and suddenly smiled.

They had come, and not too late.