“This prince’s medicine has been prepared…”

Wenren Lin walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, lifting Zhao Yān’s hands from the cool, clear water.

The palace maids had forgotten to prepare silk cloths for drying hands. With an impassive expression, he wrapped Zhao Yān’s hands in his own sleeves, wiping each of her reddened fingers dry one by one, not minding at all that his fine dark fabric was getting wet and wrinkled.

Zhao Yān’s heart felt as though it too was being wiped clean, smoothed out inch by inch.

“Why punish yourself?”

Wenren Lin squeezed her knuckles, his dark eyes deep, though his voice was gentle.

Zhao Yān parted her lips, saying softly: “I’m not punishing myself. I just… can’t face these sins. Everything is ridiculously absurd.”

When killing Zhao Yuan’yu, she could still position herself as a bystander seeking truth and suppressing evil, but when facing her father, she had become an insider swept along by the current.

She even felt somewhat disgusted by the royal bloodline that flowed through half of her.

“When I was in the private chamber, I took one of Father Emperor’s pills—the one on the table…”

“Yes, I saw it.”

…

…

“Looks familiar, doesn’t it? It’s the revitalizing secret medicine that the Shenguang Sect helped Zhao Yuan’yu concoct.”

Zhao Yān closed her long eyelashes briefly, her fingers unconsciously tightening on Wenren Lin’s sleeve edge. “Those girls who were rescued mentioned that Zhao Yuan’yu had captured so many young boys, yet always complained about producing too few pills. Now I’m afraid to think deeply about who might be behind Zhao Yuan’yu’s ‘inability to perform marital duties,’ and where all those extra revitalizing pills were sent.”

Wenren Lin placed his palm over her tightly clenched hand, his tone steady and calm: “Does Your Highness still wish to continue down this path?”

Zhao Yān’s eyelashes trembled. After a long moment, she raised her eyes.

“Yes.”

She opened her eyelashes as if pushing open a window, letting the desolate wind and light leak in together, dispelling the fog. “I understand your choice a little better now. I want to stand with you.”

Wenren Lin gazed at her clear eyes that had regained their clarity.

He had told her before that the sharp truth would wound her as well. But at that time, he never imagined that the little princess before him, even when cut and covered in scales of wounds, would still bravely walk forward on the cold blades that covered the ground.

“Does Your Highness also wish to join this prince in destroying the world?”

Wenren Lin’s eyes were deep and thoughtful.

“No. Breaking down to build anew emphasizes the ‘building’ part, while destruction is like purgatory, without hope to speak of. The two are not the same. Grand Tutor, I’m not strong, but every time I want to give up, I think of Zhao Yǎn and remember why I returned to the palace. This world is full of demons and monsters, but there are also moths drawn to the lamp, and beneath dead wood, spring still comes. That was Zhao Yǎn’s choice, and… it will be mine as well.”

Zhao Yān pressed her lips together, took a deep breath, and said wearily, “My thoughts are a bit scattered now. I sound like I’m making grand, disorganized statements… Grand Tutor, may I lean on you for a while?”

She was no longer the “Crown Prince,” yet she still instinctively called him “Grand Tutor,” as if this title could give her unlimited strength.

Wenren Lin removed his cloak with a toss, covering the unsightly dark red pill on the round table. Then he raised his arm and drew Zhao Yān into his embrace.

Zhao Yān obediently bent her legs and hugged her knees, resting her head on his shoulder, absorbing his steady, peaceful presence. The jade pendants at their waists pressed closely together—one a somewhat rough cat-patterned warm jade, the other a newly carved lotus jade—emitting crisp, fragmentary clicking sounds.

Wenren Lin gently rubbed his chin against the top of the young woman’s loosely bundled hair, kissing her forehead.

His half-closed eyelids cast a faint shadow, concealing the dark currents surging at the bottom of his eyes, still elegant and formidable, composed and peaceful.

He didn’t tell the little princess that the power of those young boys was too scattered, too weak, and now everything was too late.

But it didn’t matter. As long as he protected her, that would be enough.

With heaven and earth as a furnace, he would scatter death’s ashes to pave her way, sending her to the highest platform.

The slanting sun of early spring shone through the screen, casting two shadows—one large, one small—nestled together on the thin gauze, supporting each other. Without needing to do anything, they had already expressed their deepest feelings.

……

The next day, the sunshine was pleasant. The sun warmed the earth that had been frozen for so long, but Zhao Yān had little mood to appreciate it.

That “Supreme Secret Medicine” she had discovered by chance still occupied her mind like a shadow, not to mention it was the beginning of the month again.

Wenren Lin hadn’t appeared today, and Zhao Yān didn’t know how much of the poison’s effects Physician Sun’s medicine could resist now.

She turned a couple of pages in her book and practiced the sword techniques Wenren Lin had taught her twice in the courtyard, but still couldn’t calm her mind completely. She finally decided to secretly set up a bamboo ladder against the wall and climb up to gaze at the corner of the eaves of Hegui Pavilion behind the green forest.

The distance was somewhat far, but Zhao Yān felt she could hear the tinkling of the wind chimes under the eaves—on the day she had gifted the spring snow peach blossoms, Wenren Lin had mentioned casually that the wind chime she had sent to Luozhou had been brought back by him and hung on his windowsill.

“Long wind has no form, yet its whispers have sound. Wind blows, jade vibrates, please listen, my lord.”

After their deep kiss that day, Wenren Lin had teased her with a lazy, husky voice near her ear, “This prince would rather hear Your Highness’s voice, especially pleasant.”

Zhao Yān had angrily pushed him away, but he had just laughed.

Zhao Yān narrowed her eyes, unconsciously curling the corners of her mouth upward. Just as she was about to climb down the ladder, she saw a familiar figure walking along the path below the wall.

Zhou Ji was wearing the pine-green official robe of a sixth-rank civil official. His features were bright and clear, as elegant as bamboo. He was carrying a ceremonial document, walking steadily through the scattered pink peach blossoms on the ground.

After the court interrogation, he had been demoted one rank and returned to the Hanlin Academy to work on writing and drafting ceremonial documents. With the Emperor and Empress at Yuquan Palace, and the negotiations with Northern Wu nearing their end, the documents for the ceremonial banquet needed to be submitted to the Empress Dowager for review.

Zhao Yān pushed aside the dense flowers and called down: “Official Zhou.”

Zhou Ji halted and looked up to see Zhao Yān resting her chin on her hand, leaning on the wall behind clouds of radiant peach blossoms.

His memory suddenly returned to years ago.

At Huayang Palace, on a similarly warm spring day, he—then still a youth—had been walking along a wall with a scroll in hand when a camellia had been tossed down from above, landing precisely on his open book page.

“Young Master Zhou.”

The young girl who had just escaped from lessons was leaning on the wall, pointing to her blue palace maid’s clothes, smiling proudly at him. “Can you tell who I am?”

After many years, he could now recognize that bright face at a glance. He couldn’t help but smile and say: “Yes, I can.”

“What?”

Zhao Yān was puzzled by his inexplicable answer.

Zhou Ji paused briefly, came to his senses, and moved to the side of the path to give her a proper official bow with his sleeves gathered.

“Zhao Yān, what are you doing leaning on the wall?”

A clear, crisp voice suddenly came from behind her.

Zhao Yān turned to see Huo Zhenzhen in a goose-yellow spring outfit, leading a tall, familiar-looking palace maid through the corridor.

She said to Zhou Ji, “I’ll go down now. You continue with your business,” then disappeared from the wall, holding onto the ladder.

Zhou Ji stood for a while until the wind stopped and the flower petals no longer fell from the wall. Only then did he continue walking across the fallen petals toward the main hall.

Zhao Yān opened the door to the side hall and glanced at the “palace maid” behind Huo Zhenzhen, unable to help but smile with crinkled eyes.

“Do you have to dress like this every time you come to see me?”

As soon as Liu Baiwei entered the door, she no longer bothered with pretense, sitting down casually in a chair and rubbing her neck. “There’s no choice; the outside is closely watched. Thanks to the Princess of Changle County for helping bring me in.”

“You promised to take me to pay respects to Crown Prince Brother, which is why I helped you! Don’t forget!”

Huo Zhenzhen took a turn around Zhao Yān’s residence and, apparently finding it too sparse, waved her hand and said, “I’m going to visit Grandmother now. You two talk first.”

With that, she walked away with her hands behind her back, skipping and jumping, the golden bells at her waist jingling with each movement, clear and carefree.

Liu Ying came to serve tea, and the room quickly grew quiet.

“I saw Chou Zui,” Liu Baiwei said, getting straight to the point. “He was keeping watch outside the back door of Mingde Hall for several days. When he saw me, he asked me to deliver a message to Your Highness. He said something about the Shenguang Sect’s stronghold stockpiling large amounts of copper bullet gunpowder with some kind of plot in mind, but he didn’t explain clearly before leaving.”

Zhao Yān was surprised: “He’s back in the capital?”

“He’s been back for a while, appearing and disappearing mysteriously. I heard that in the past few months, the Shenguang Sect has suffered heavy losses, with several temple bases being slaughtered by a skilled fighter with facial scars… I guess it’s Chou Zui. After learning the true cause of the Crown Prince’s death, he’s been seeking revenge against the Shenguang Sect’s ‘masters.'”

Liu Baiwei frowned. “He’s still so single-minded. Last time, I wrote down the address of my mansion in the capital for him, but he couldn’t read and didn’t ask anyone for help. He just kept waiting by that solitary lamp at Mingde Hall.”

Though the words were complaints, Zhao Yān could hear a hint of sadness in them.

Zhao Yǎn was dead, and Chou Zui had once again become a wandering ghost without a place to belong. With no one left to protect, he could only return to killing.

“Next time you see him, keep him there. I want to use him,”

Zhao Yān decided firmly. “However, Zhao Yǎn treated him in the past, I will treat him the same.”

Liu Baiwei opened her mouth, then sighed: “Alright, I’ll try. But he has an odd temperament and views Zhao Yǎn as his only master. He may not listen to you.”

“He will listen.”

As long as it was related to Zhao Yǎn, Chou Zui would not refuse.

“By the way, the matter Your Highness asked Gu Xing to follow up on has results.”

Liu Baiwei took out a sealed letter from her sleeve and handed it to Zhao Yān.

Zhao Yān took the secret letter, opened it to look, and her expression changed slightly.

“What is it?” Liu Baiwei noticed something was wrong—

“The Northern Wu envoys have been frequenting the pleasure quarters, reveling in nightly feasts. The dancers and performers around them are as numerous as fish crossing a river, and among them are several women from the families of criminals implicated in the former Crown Prince’s case.”

“What?”

Liu Baiwei tensed, quickly taking the secret letter from Zhao Yān’s hand. “Let me see.”

Gu Xing had spent half a month investigating the backgrounds of these women thoroughly. Their fathers were indeed all supporters of the former Crown Prince. After the “treason case,” these people were all arrested with their property confiscated. The men were either executed or exiled, and the few women implicated were officially sold as slaves, becoming lowborn for life.

Their ages all matched up, too.

“So the Northern Wu entering the capital is just using the marriage alliance as a pretext to lull the Great Xuan’s vigilance.”

“Exactly. The rebels flying the former Crown Prince’s banner are their true secret allies. After all, if the Great Xuan falls into chaos, it would be all benefit and no harm to Northern Wu.”

Zhao Yān finally understood why Wuque had been so certain earlier that the marriage alliance was her only path to survival. Because if the rebels successfully seized power, they would not spare her life. Eliminating all threats was the first step for any victor to secure the throne.

She had imagined countless possibilities for getting her father to withdraw the marriage edict, but this particular one had never crossed her mind.

Zhao Yān pondered for a moment, then stood up and said: “The Northern Wu’s peace negotiations are nearing their end, which means their plans with the rebels must also be well-established. We need to find a way to present this information to Father Emperor, or it will be too late.”

She did not approve of what her father had done—she even found it disgusting—but she could not sit by and watch a puppet of a foreign race ascend the throne. She could not allow the world to be destroyed by a plot of foreign collusion and treason.

Liu Baiwei followed closely behind as the two hurried toward the main hall where the Empress Dowager was reciting sutras.

“Is Your Highness planning to relay the message through the Empress Dowager?” Liu Baiwei asked with some concern.

Hearing this, Zhao Yān stopped in her tracks.

The spring breeze that wasn’t cold blew through the corridor, restoring her calmness.

“You’re right. I can’t let Grandmother pass on this message. The old lady is advanced in years, and Father Emperor already has a rift with her. The Northern Wu’s collusion with rebels is a major matter; I can’t push her to the edge of the storm again.”

But the Emperor was far away at Yuquan Palace, heavily guarded. Besides the Empress Dowager, who else had enough weight to speak before the Emperor?

“I can try,” Liu Baiwei offered. “I am, after all, the grandson of a prince. The imperial guards should allow me to have an audience.”

“No,” Zhao Yān rejected without hesitation. “You are too close to me privately. Father Emperor will only suspect you, and by the time he realizes the truth, it may be too late.”

“Then who else…”

“If Your Highness trusts me, this subject and my teacher are willing to attempt.”

A clear, crystalline voice suddenly came from behind the moon gate. Zhao Yān and Liu Baiwei exchanged glances, then quickly walked forward to see Zhou Ji holding his documents, standing alone in the courtyard.

Seeing their surprise, he bowed and said: “The Empress Dowager is still resting. This subject was idly wandering around, not intentionally eavesdropping.”

“What did you hear us say?” Zhao Yān’s expression was complex.

“I heard some of it,” Zhou Ji said with an upright bearing and a clear voice. “Internal traitors colluding with external enemies—as a minister of the Great Xuan, I would face death without regret. My teacher feels the same.”

Zhao Yān hesitated. Left Minister Li Kexing was a senior statesman who had served two emperors and was deeply trusted by her father. Indeed, he would be the most suitable person to come forward.

But still…

“Please, Your Highness, trust this subject and my honored teacher.”

Zhou Ji pleaded, bowing even lower.

Zhou Ji already knew too much, and with his upright character, Zhao Yān couldn’t stop him even if she wanted to.

Trust those you use, and use those you trust.

After pondering for a moment, Zhao Yān finally handed over the register of entertainers who had contacted the Northern Wu envoys from her sleeve, saying softly: “This concerns the nation’s fate. This princess thanks Official Zhou and the Left Minister.”

With that, Zhao Yān and Liu Baiwei both stepped back and returned a solemn bow.

That night, at Yuquan Palace.

The Emperor, with his hair loose and in casual attire, personally received Li Kexing and Zhou Ji, who had traveled far. Upon seeing the news in the secret letter, he bit down hard on his molars.

He rose and ordered the imperial guards outside the hall: “Go, immediately transmit Our decree: The Ministry of Rites and the Court of State Ceremonial are to terminate all peace talks. Add imperial guards for surveillance. Before this matter is resolved, do not allow the Northern Wu envoys to step out of the Four Directions Inn.”

He suddenly drew in a sharp breath, causing a hoarse coughing sound that triggered throbbing pain at his temples.

Beside him, Concubine Zhen skillfully lit the supreme incense, its white mist curling and diffusing.

Li Kexing, having traveled for half a day, was also bone-weary and spirit-exhausted. Leaning on Zhou Ji’s hand, he rose to bow: “May His Majesty take care of his dragon body.”

The Emperor took a deep breath, sat in his chair for a while to recover, then waved his hand: “The Left Minister and Zhou have toiled for the country, journeying with great effort. Stay at Yuquan Palace tonight. You are granted lodging at Tingyulou.”

Li Kexing thanked him for the favor and, supporting himself on Zhou Ji’s hand, left the hall, following the lantern-bearing inner attendant through the corridor toward Tingyulou.

“Wanlan.”

“Your student is here.”

“Tell me the truth. Who gave you the information about the Northern Wu colluding with rebels?” Li Kexing walked very slowly, lowering his voice. “You visited Penglai Hall today. It could only be her, am I right?”

Zhou Ji remained silent.

Li Kexing didn’t force him to admit it, only saying: “She’s imprisoned, yet able to know secrets that even court officials can’t see through. How can His Majesty not be wary?”

“Her Highness’s keen nature is no less than a man’s.”

“But she is not a man after all. The court interrogation was already her greatest fortune.”

Li Kexing sighed lightly. “Wanlan, listen to an old man’s advice. You and she are not people on the same path. You should stop here.”

The mountain wind blew, and an enormous cloud obscured the moonlight. The night was as thick as ink.

Outside the capital county, several boats transporting timber were docked at the ferry. They stood like ghosts, lifeless and gloomy.

A group of men disguised as refugees gathered in the darkness from all four directions, their numbers growing. Looking closely, beneath their tattered rags, each was robust and sturdy, with steady steps, clearly trained fighters with military backgrounds.

“Plans have changed. We act tonight. Our great endeavor will succeed in one stroke!”

The leader spoke, and several men leaped onto the deck, yanking away the oilcloth covering the timber to reveal blades hidden within the hollow logs.

Another team of swimmers dove beneath the water, dragging out large oilcloth packages hidden under the boats. Unwrapping them layer by layer revealed bundles of fine bows and arrows.

In the darkness, there were no voices, only the cold glint of weapons reflecting the light.

At the same time, hawks soared across the sky.

At Hegui Pavilion, Cai Tian received the intelligence and, not daring to delay for a moment, hurried to deliver it to the purification chamber.

It was the beginning of the month. Behind the screen, steam mingled with medicinal fragrances. Cai Tian had just said “Your Highness” when he saw a pale, slender hand extend from the bathtub. Water droplets ran down the cold jade-like palm, dripping with a tinge of abnormal dark red blood that dissolved in the undulating water.

Cai Tian was shocked. The prince’s poison attacks were getting more severe each time, and even Physician Sun’s medicine could not fully suppress them.

Not daring to look directly, he handed the paper note to that cool, damp hand.

They had waited eight years for this day.

He wondered what expression the Emperor would have—surely one of delightful anguish—when he saw that those he feared had destroyed him, those he trusted had betrayed him, and experienced the isolated, helpless sorrow of the hundred thousand soldiers at Yanluo Pass.

Just as he was thinking this, Wenren Lin dipped the paper note into the cooled medicinal bath, rose, and grabbed the clothes hanging on the screen to dress himself.

Then he walked to the low cabinet, opened the drawer, and leisurely took out the bottle of medicine pills that Physician Sun had just prepared.

The stars and moon gave no light, and outside the wall, the peach blossoms gave off a floating fragrance.

After bathing, Zhao Yān couldn’t sleep. She stayed in the study until midnight, when she finally heard Liu Ying return hurriedly to report: “Your Highness, Li Fu has sent word that a squad of imperial guards has returned from Yuquan Palace and headed straight for the Four Directions Inn.”

Guessing that Li Kexing had delivered the news to Yuquan Palace, Zhao Yān finally let out a long sigh of relief.

“It’s late. Your Highness should go to rest now,” Liu Ying urged, holding a lamp.

Zhao Yān nodded, closed her book, and stood up, rubbing her stiff neck as she walked toward her bedchamber.

She yawned softly, not noticing that the window was half-open as she walked directly to the inner chamber.

Lifting the heavy drapes, she suddenly paused, opening her eyes and letting out an “Ah!”

Liu Ying was startled by her exclamation and quickly put down the lamp, asking: “What’s wrong, Your Highness?”

Zhao Yān, looking at the man in black robes with half-loose long hair reclining on her bed, hurriedly closed the curtains and said: “Nothing, I just remembered I haven’t finished copying today’s scriptures. You must be tired too. Go and sleep with Shi Lan. There’s no need to serve me tonight.”

Liu Ying prepared the night tea, closed the windows, and then bowed and withdrew.

Once she had left, Zhao Yān reopened the curtains.

All drowsiness vanished. She crossed her arms, stepped forward, and bent down to examine Wenren Lin: “Why did you come at this hour? Are you feeling better?”

Wenren Lin had just bathed. His features were deep and handsome, his black hair only half-tied with a glossy wooden hairpin, the other half falling over his shoulders and back, the ends still slightly damp and cool.

He grabbed Zhao Yān’s wrist, pulled with one hand, and drew her into his embrace.

“This prince’s medicine has been prepared.”

His smiling voice was particularly bewitching as he spoke about a completely unrelated topic.