◎ If Brother and Wenren Lin Both Fall into Water, Who Would Yan’er Save? ◎

The torrential rain sounded like a golden gong as the heavy clouds dispersed, suddenly brightening the sky.

“Why did you punish him?” In Kunning Palace, Zhao Yān changed into dry clothes and walked to Zhao Yǎn’s side, joining him in watching the crystalline raindrops falling from the eaves. “Having grown up together all these years, this is the first time I’ve seen you punish someone.”

Zhao Yǎn turned his head slightly, his gentle features serious: “Yan’er hasn’t been willing to speak to him these past two days. Aren’t you angry?”

Zhao Yān felt warmth flowing through her heart and said softly: “I was just… embarrassed. I didn’t want to do anything to him.”

Zhao Yǎn recalled how Wenren Lin controlled the court in his previous life and remembered the recurring strange dreams he’d been having lately of “Yan’er disguised as a man, falling into Wenren Lin’s control.” His gaze was concentrated as he coughed lightly.

“He’s dangerously intelligent and formidable yet dangerous. I punished him to let him know that as a subject, there are things he should and shouldn’t do, and he must respect my sister.”

Zhao Yǎn smiled gently. “Don’t be afraid, Yan’er. I’m here.”

For the past two years, he had often liked to say “don’t be afraid.” Though still a tender youth himself, he willingly used his frail shoulders to bear the responsibility of protecting his sister.

“Brother.”

“Yes?”

Zhao Yān leaned on the beauty couch, inhaled the damp post-rain air, and hummed: “You know, if I didn’t have you, where would I turn when I suffered grievances?”

Zhao Yǎn was momentarily stunned.

Indeed, in his previous life, he had died too early. If Yan’er were bullied, she would probably hide alone to lick her wounds.

In that past life, had anyone cared for his sister as he did?

When Yan’er suffered grievances, was there anyone who would hold her tightly and tell her, “Don’t be afraid”?

Just thinking about it made Zhao Yǎn ache deeply, and he sighed heavily.

At the Marquis of Dinyuan’s mansion.

Seeing Wenren Lin return completely soaked, Wenren Mu was so shocked he nearly dropped his wine cup.

Wenren Lin’s handsome face, moistened by the rain, displayed an even more frost-like coldness. He ignored Wenren Mu’s reaction, simply folded the umbrella and leaned it slightly against the corridor before going inside.

After changing clothes and coming out, he saw Wenren Mu playing with that pomegranate-flower paper umbrella.

Seeing his third brother emerge, Wenren Mu’s eyes curved into a smile as he thrust the umbrella horizontally like a sword: “A-Lin, this umbrella… It’s a girl’s, isn’t it?”

Wenren Lin raised his hand and easily caught the thrusting umbrella tip. His damp eyes slightly downcast, he said flatly: “Second Brother is quite knowledgeable about women’s items. Those ‘devoted admirers’ from years ago—does Second Sister-in-law know about them?”

Wenren Mu choked, his smile becoming less comfortable.

“No, no, no! I just helped Big Brother eliminate some mountain bandits, and those women insisted on ‘repaying the kindness’… that’s ancient history, and I never agreed! A-Lin, you can torment me as usual, but please don’t upset your Second Sister-in-law, alright?”

Wenren Lin responded with a meaningful sneer, exerting slight force to take back the paper umbrella, carrying it like a sword.

Whose item is this, that he guards it so carefully?

Wenren Mu stepped aside with lingering fear, sensing something was off: in this family, why did it feel like the youngest acted like the eldest?

The rain dripped on the empty steps as the young man in dark red everyday clothes sat on the beauty couch, one hand holding a military book, the other casually resting on the armrest. His hand naturally drooped, revealing prominent tendons and distinct finger bones, his lacquer-dark gaze fixed on the blooming pomegranate-flower paper umbrella before the steps.

Wenren Lin had not yet figured out one thing.

Since childhood, he had been different from others. When other children were still playing with mud, he had already developed a great interest in the arts of killing and crossbows, and heavy bows. Beneath his gentle, perfect exterior hid a cold, combative soul, concealing a restless, destructive desire.

Over the years, he had hidden it extremely well, until he met Zhao Yān disguised as the Crown Prince.

On the first day, he had sensed something was wrong.

He enjoyed challenging puzzles, so he quickly found amusement. But once he obtained the answer and achieved victory, he would lose interest.

But Zhao Yān was an exception.

Seeing the little princess’s vulnerable, wet-reddened eyes that day, not only did he not lose interest, but his heart tightened, as if someone had imperceptibly gripped it, making his blood constrict, difficult to calm for a long time.

Rain occasionally dripped from the eaves onto the opened oil paper umbrella, plop, plop.

The pomegranate flowers painted on the umbrella rim were as red and eye-catching as the young girl’s crimson skirt that had brushed aside the rain and wind.

Wenren Lin lightly closed his eyelashes. The characters on the book page became momentarily ethereal, revealing those beautiful eyes tinged with damp rain beneath the umbrella rim.

…

Since the dispute over horse riding that day, Zhao Yān had been too embarrassed to face Wenren Lin.

Her brother had “warned” him so sternly, and she didn’t know if that black-hearted man harbored resentment.

If he were to “make things difficult” for her again, she would surely bite back hard.

When the rain cleared and good weather returned for riding and archery practice, Zhao Yān had to steel herself to go to the training field. However, after much mental preparation, the person she encountered was her uncle Huo Feng, not Wenren Lin.

“The Wenren family has been dispatched to lead troops into battle, so my father has replaced them as martial arts teacher,” Huo Zhenzhen explained, fidgeting with her newly acquired gold-carved small bow and chattering away.

On the seventh day of the fourth month, the eunuch sent by the court to deliver an imperial decree to Liang Prefecture had “accidentally” drowned on his return journey. Governor Zhao Chengde, with a guilty conscience, was reluctant to come to the capital to report.

The Emperor’s authority had been practically dragged through the mud. Having endured enough, he finally resolved to address this calamity.

Zhao Yān had privately analyzed the situation in Liang with her brother, and they both agreed this conflict was inevitable, but they hadn’t expected it to come so quickly.

Huo Feng had a rough nature and didn’t teach very meticulously, often demonstrating “do this, then that” once before letting the girls play on their own.

Zhao Yān understood only half of what she heard and retreated to practice alone out of boredom. However, she couldn’t help but recall how a certain someone had broken down each movement step by step—in all fairness, Wenren Lin was extremely dedicated when teaching…

Pfft! Why was she thinking of him again?

Zhao Yān frowned, released the bowstring, and hit the straw target dead center.

After the spring hunt, a significant event occurred—Crown Prince Zhao Yǎn selected several Eastern Palace study companions, and Princess Changfeng also actively proposed to study at Chongwen Hall.

A princess studying wasn’t a major issue, but studying at Chongwen Hall carried a very different significance.

Chongwen Hall was the sacred place for educating princes. For a female member of the royal family to set foot there was truly unprecedented.

After careful consideration, the Emperor agreed. The conservative faction in the court sighed and shook their heads, but could do nothing.

Zhao Yān could vaguely guess that her father’s agreement to let her study with Zhao Yǎn at Chongwen Hall, besides her brother’s strong recommendation, was more about considering that she would eventually marry Wenren Lin. If she didn’t understand politics, how could she handle the powerful Wenren family?

Nevertheless, Zhao Yān was still very happy.

She could finally, as a woman, rightfully enter a domain that had been monopolized by men for thousands of years. Studying with her would be the Fourth Princess Zhao Shuang and Princess Yongle Huo Zhenzhen.

Zhao Yǎn’s three study companions had distinctly different styles: one was Shen Jingming, the son of the Personnel Ministry Vice Minister, renowned as one of the “Twin Jades of the Li Family”; another was Zhao Baiwei, the illegitimate grandson of the Prince of Yingchuan who had recently returned to his ancestral lineage; and the third was the heir to the Marquis of Jinping, Pei Sa, who was accomplished in both civil and military arts.

Speaking of Zhao Baiwei, Zhao Yān recalled an amusing incident when school first began.

In Chongwen Hall, although the seats for male and female students were separated by screens, it was mostly a formality of “gender segregation” without much practical use.

On the first day of school, Huo Zhenzhen, who had little ink in her belly, was excited about the novelty and came to Chongwen Hall eagerly. She saw a figure in water-blue robes sitting by the window, with an elegant silhouette, a slender waist, jade-like eyebrows, and phoenix eyes. At first glance, the profile in the early summer sunlight had an indescribable beauty and vigor.

“Hey, Zhao Yān, look,” Huo Zhenzhen gestured toward the person by the window, whispering admiringly. “Who is this sister? She’s so beautiful.”

The person turned at her words, but spoke in a voice different from a woman’s, raising an eyebrow: “Miss, you should have your eyes checked. Who are you calling ‘sister’?”

It was a young man!

Huo Zhenzhen hadn’t expected that there could be a youth more divinely handsome than the Crown Prince, looking almost like a beautiful woman. After her initial shock, endless embarrassment flushed her cheeks red with shame.

Thus began their war of words, and the two became rivals.

Although Zhao Baiwei looked delicate, he was not at all feminine in stature. He had a flamboyant personality, was eloquent, and his ink paintings were exquisite!

Occasionally, Zhao Yān would debate with him and found that they shared similar unusual ideas, gradually developing a mutual appreciation.

The solemn Chongwen Hall seemed to have truly come alive in this early summer.

Zhao Yǎn said, “National plans cannot be accomplished overnight. I must learn from past lessons and start with the details, moistening things silently until they shake the foundations of those official parasites who suck the marrow from Great Xuan’s soil. Letting princesses attend school and become role models for the world is the first step in breaking through the conservative faction.”

He also said: “In this life, I wish to be like a moth flying toward a lamp, though dying, moving toward the light. Even if I die a hundred times, my heart will not change. But this time, I want to protect everyone.”

In this life, I wish to be like a moth flying toward a lamp, though dying, moving toward the light.

Even if I die a hundred times, my heart will not change.

When Zhao Yǎn said these words, those consistently gentle, smiling eyes revealed a brilliant light, as if something warm was burning intensely, hiding the young man’s purest and grandest aspirations.

Zhao Yān’s restless heart gradually settled, also becoming warm and swollen.

She vaguely knew what great undertaking Zhao Yǎn was planning, and she wanted to help him.

Zhao Yān enjoyed watching Zhao Baiwei wield his brush and ink, writing magnificent declarations like “The world is not one person’s world, but the world’s world. One who shares the world’s prosperity gains the world; one who monopolizes the world’s prosperity loses the world”; she enjoyed watching Pei Sa dance with his sword in the wind, watching Shen Jingming drink and sing, reciting “Meeting people without speaking of worldly affairs, is to be a person without worldly affairs,” every gesture displaying the unrestrained spirit of young famous scholars…

The scene before her seemed like something from a dream, as if long, long ago, these people had once worked tirelessly by lamplight in a dim tower, hoping to bring a ray of clarity to the muddled court.

Only this time, Zhao Yān was no longer an outsider. She was among them, advancing with these young people.

On the eighteenth day of the seventh month, Zhao Yān’s fifteenth birthday.

Each step of the coming-of-age ceremony was personally arranged by Empress Wei after repeatedly asking her daughter’s opinion. Zhao Yān was not accustomed to her mother’s sudden attentiveness, and at first, when her mother spoke in an unnaturally gentle voice, she thought she had done something wrong and was anxious for quite a while…

Afterward, she realized how amusing it was, but also how warm it felt.

Zhao Yǎn, seeing his sister’s increasingly relaxed smiles, had a light smile in his eyes as well.

Winter departed, spring arrived, and the bustling summer quietly slipped away amid the long cicada songs. Zhao Yǎn celebrated his sixteenth birthday.

He had used two lifetimes to finally move from an abruptly ended fifteen years to a brand new sixteen.

In the autumn of the eighteenth year of Tianyou, the rebel forces of the Governor of Liang were finally completely uprooted, and the Wenren family father and sons returned triumphantly to the capital.

To be precise, the conflict had been completely settled at the beginning of the year.

But because of the collusion between officials and bandits in Liang, the Wenren family had spent several more months leading troops in the aftermath. When the new governor of Liangzhou arrived, he could simply take credit for the ready-made achievements.

In this campaign, Wenren Lin had captured Zhao Chengde and his military officer He Hu alive, achieving the greatest merit. The Emperor broke precedent to confer upon him the title of “Grand General,” leading the Eagle Riders to protect the capital. With his heaven-sent talent, his fame now exceeded even that of Wenren Jinping in his prime.

Just as the victory banquet dispersed, Wenren Lin bid farewell to the Emperor and left the palace. Passing by Chongwen Hall, he paused slightly.

Behind the railing stood a young woman with her hands behind her back. Her luminous white face had shed the immaturity of over a year ago, becoming increasingly radiant and beautiful. Dressed in an exquisite crimson dress like the morning glow emerging from the mountains, she was incomparably graceful.

She seemed to be conversing with someone, her eyes curved, extremely spirited.

Shortly after, a handsome young man in a blue robe emerged from the corridor, lowering his head to respond to the little princess with something, their manner quite intimate and familiar.

The little princess raised an eyebrow in disagreement, then turned to look at an elegant, refined young official nearby: “Instructor Zhou, please judge for us!”

A talented scholar and a peerless beauty, quite pleasing to the eye.

Yet Wenren Lin only found it irritating. A secret corner of his heart began to stir again, a restlessness that even a year of bloodshed in battle could not suppress.

He discreetly withdrew his gaze, his shadow like a sword as he walked toward the palace gate.

Zhao Yān caught a glimpse of that distant figure and paused: he had returned?

“Yan’er, what are you looking at?” Zhao Yǎn approached, smiling and asking.

Zhao Yān withdrew her gaze, shook her head, and smiled: “Nothing.”

With the pacification of the Liang Prefecture unrest, the kingdom was secure. The Emperor was greatly pleased and decided to hold a suburban sacrifice ceremony in the tenth month to pray for the continuation of the dynasty.

Wenren Lin led the Imperial Guards and Eagle Riders to clear the path and escort them, while the Crown Prince and Princess Changfeng accompanied the imperial carriage.

The chaos occurred in an instant.

Assassins who had been lurking in the roadside canal suddenly leaped out, with flashing blades and raining arrows.

Zhao Yǎn knew these assassins were targeting him: his first task after rebirth had been to use the pretext of Prince Yong’s household harboring alchemists to prevent the Shen Guang Religion from bewitching the Emperor and infiltrating the court. The Prince Yong’s household had been implicated, harbored resentment, and had finally colluded with the remnants of the Shen Guang Religion to attack him…

“The enemy is hidden while we are exposed. This is too passive,” said Ah Xing, uttering the same resolute words as in the previous life, making Zhao Yǎn feel like his liver and gallbladder were about to split.

Could it be that, despite living to sixteen, he still couldn’t prevent the calamity from his previous life?

“Ah Xing!” This time, Zhao Yǎn gripped Ah Xing’s extended fingers and commanded word by word, “I forbid you from saying that sentence!”

The young man who resembled the Crown Prince was stunned: how did the Crown Prince know which sentence he was about to say?

But the arrow rain was too dense, and the Eastern Palace guards’ wails filled their ears. Without using the cicada-shell strategy to lure away the enemy, how could they break through?

Just as he was thinking, the arrow rain seemed to thin out.

Someone exclaimed joyfully: “It’s Princess Changfeng! Princess Changfeng is leading the Imperial Guards to our rescue!”

Hearing “Princess Changfeng,” Zhao Yǎn’s heart painfully clenched. He hurriedly looked out the carriage window.

The blood-stained, dark-patterned carriage curtain was lifted slightly by the wind, revealing through the narrow field of vision a young woman in blue-red ceremonial clothes galloping toward them, skillfully drawing a bow and releasing arrows from horseback—

On the bumpy horseback, her first two arrows were somewhat off, but with the third arrow, she quickly found her rhythm, shooting down assassins who were about to climb onto the carriage roof, creating an opportunity for Chou Zui and the Imperial Guards to counterattack.

Such decisive archery skills!

For a moment, Zhao Yǎn saw Wenren Lin’s unparalleled presence in his sister’s slender, resilient figure.

“Protect Princess Changfeng well! Go!” Zhao Yǎn urgently commanded.

When Wenren Lin arrived with the Eagle Riders to save them, this was the scene he witnessed: fierce horses neighing, a young woman drawing her bow, her eyes determined, aiming, releasing.

A perfect hit.

The memory of teaching on the training field last year reignited. The little princess had been indifferent to him, yet she hadn’t forgotten any of the archery skills he had taught.

For some unknown reason, Wenren Lin felt a strange pleasure arise in his heart, and even his movements when slaying assassins became more elegant and composed.

The assassins suffered heavy losses and were about to be defeated. In desperation, they took out two copper balls the size of chicken eggs, lit the fuses, and threw them toward the Crown Prince’s carriage.

One copper ball was deflected by Chou Zui’s sword, falling back into the canal. The other bounced on the ground and exploded, breaking down the earthen wall by the road—

The horses were startled and reared up. Zhao Yān, who was drawing her bow, was caught off guard and about to fall to the ground.

“Yan’er!” Zhao Yǎn’s voice was almost hoarse with panic.

It’s over!

An upside-down view, the sky, rolling thick smoke filled with the smell of gunpowder… Time seemed infinitely stretched in that moment.

Zhao Yān closed her eyes in panic, but the anticipated intense pain never came. Instead, a pair of long, powerful arms steadily caught her, drawing her into an embrace.

Debris from the exploded earthen wall flew all around, but every piece was blocked by the man’s tall figure, not a single one landing on Zhao Yān.

As the dust settled, Wenren Lin’s deep lacquer eyes gradually became clear, reflecting Zhao Yān’s stunned small figure.

She heard the dull sound of soil chunks and broken bricks hitting the man’s back, yet his eyes remained calm, as if he felt nothing.

“You…” Zhao Yān uttered a hoarse syllable, but before she could speak, Wenren Lin lightly and casually pressed her head against his chest, not allowing her to look up.

Zhao Yān couldn’t hear the sound of his sword blade piercing through the assassin’s flesh. She could only hear the man’s steady, powerful heartbeat, knocking against her eardrum beat by beat.

“Yan’er!” Zhao Yǎn rushed from the carriage. The usually composed and proper Crown Prince nearly stumbled in his haste.

Wenren Lin held his blood-soaked long sword in one hand and released his embrace, revealing the perfectly unharmed princess. Zhao Yǎn’s heart, which had been in his throat, finally settled back in place. He smiled tearfully, then raised his eyes and seriously cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to Wenren Lin.

“Thank you, Grand General.”

Zhao Yǎn suddenly realized: Yan’er and Wenren Lin were probably the biggest variables in his life.

Zhao Yān, having her life saved by Wenren Lin, felt the rift of the past year and more vanish amid the rapid beating of her heart.

She didn’t know what was happening, only raised her hand to touch her reddened ears, which seemed to still retain the man’s scorching body temperature and the vibrating numbness of his heartbeat.

Whatever the case, Wenren Lin had saved her and her brother. She should at least show some gratitude.

Back at the palace, the imperial physician was bandaging and applying medicine to Wenren Lin—the man had removed his outer robe and half of his sleeve, revealing muscular, vigorous arms with prominent veins and a deep wound penetrating the flesh.

Zhao Yān’s breath caught, and she instinctively turned to leave, but heard the man behind her call out in apparent pain: “Your Highness…”

Zhao Yān couldn’t bear it and turned back, asking with concern: “How… how is your wound?”

“It hurts a bit,” the man frowned.

“What should we do?”

Zhao Yān forgot all about “propriety” and forgot that the man had grown up on battlefields. She quickly stepped forward to look at the wound.

“The imperial physician’s technique is too rough. Perhaps if Your Highness would deign to bandage it personally, it wouldn’t hurt so much,” the man said, hiding the smile in his eyes and saying lightly, “Who knows?”

The imperial physician nearby was unjustly “slandered” and immediately twitched his beard.

He lowered his head, observing his nose while his nose observed his heart, and stepped aside, putting down the half-wrapped bandage.

After that, Zhao Yān vaguely sensed that something had changed in how she treated Wenren Lin, or how Wenren Lin treated her.

After the Lantern Festival, Marquis Dinyuan Wenren Jinping temporarily relinquished his position as the Eastern Palace Grand Tutor due to a relapse of his old illness.

That day, a new Crown Prince Junior Tutor came to Chongwen Hall—dressed in dark civil-military robes, with broad shoulders and long legs, young and handsome.

This Junior Tutor was excellent in every way, except for being excessively cold and strict. He ordered the princess and the Crown Prince’s companions to strictly observe gender segregation, with male and female students required to keep at least ten feet apart in private.

Moreover, Huo Zhenzhen discovered that since the change in tutors, every morning when they came to Chongwen Hall for reading, they would see various savory snacks arranged on Zhao Yān’s desk, not repeating for over ten days!

Huo Zhenzhen tried to steal a few pieces but was publicly called out by the young Junior Tutor and punished by copying texts.

But Huo Zhenzhen felt that Zhao Yān had it worse, because that Wenren Lin always stared at her, constantly calling on her to answer questions. If she couldn’t answer, Wenren Lin would keep her in Chongwen Hall for remedial lessons, not letting her leave for a long time.

She must have been punished with the ruler quite often.

Huo Zhenzhen shrank her shoulders, giving Zhao Yān a sympathetic look.

Birds chirped in the spring day, and the sunset rolled down the rooftop, leaving only three feet of golden gauze-like afterglow slanting across the windowsill.

In the western wing of Chongwen Hall, Zhao Yān sat with her chin propped up, lowering her eyes to recite the military strategy chapters for today, humming: “You’re just being difficult with me, aren’t you, Wenren Lin? Others don’t need to memorize these, yet you keep me behind.”

Wenren Lin handed her a washed, dark red cherry, saying leisurely with a smile: “Nonsense, I’m clearly showing care for Your Highness.”

Zhao Yān opened her mouth to accept it, then hummed again.

At that moment, footsteps approached from outside the hall, and a young man who had just finished his studies entered, calling out: “Yan’er, have you finished your lessons?”

Zhao Yān felt guilty, nearly choking on the cherry pit.

Wenren Lin raised his palm to catch the cherry pit that the little princess had hastily coughed out. Yet Zhao Yān hurriedly pushed him away, hugging her book and sitting far away.

Zhao Yǎn circled the screen and saw his sister holding a book and sitting at a distance, her head lowered almost into the book. Meanwhile, Junior Tutor Wenren Lin was leaning by the window, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingertips playing with a cherry pit glistening with moisture.

Zhao Yǎn coughed lightly.

Only then did Zhao Yān raise her head from behind the book, her face flushed, her almond eyes darting around as she smiled awkwardly: “Brother, you’re here.”

“I’ve come to take you to Mother’s. We agreed to dine together tonight, remember?” Zhao Yǎn said gently, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

Zhao Yān responded with an “Oh,” stood up, and returned the book to Wenren Lin’s side, saying quietly: “Junior Tutor, I’ll come back to recite tomorrow morning.”

With that, she glanced at Wenren Lin and left.

On the way to Kunning Palace, Zhao Yǎn looked sideways at the cherry juice staining his sister’s lips, curved his eyes, and said softly: “Yan’er, let brother ask you an arithmetic question.”

Zhao Yān came back to herself and asked: “What arithmetic?”

“Knowing that in Yan’er’s heart, your brother is worth ten sets of mermaid silk dresses and ten thousand taels of gold, calculate how much the Crown Prince’s Junior Tutor Wenren Lin is worth in Yan’er’s heart?”

“Huh?” Zhao Yān’s eyes widened. What kind of question was this?

“If this problem is too difficult, I’ll ask another,” Zhao Yǎn said, seeing his sister’s strange expression, and continued slowly: “If one day, brother and Wenren Lin both fall into water, who would Yan’er save?”

“…”

Had Zhao Yǎn eaten something wrong today?

Suddenly realizing something, Zhao Yān’s whole body stiffened: could it be that her brother had guessed something?

Wait, guess what?

She and Wenren Lin didn’t have anything between them!

But why was her heart beating so fast, making her feel so guilty?

“Of course I would save brother,” Zhao Yān responded firmly after her face twitched for a while.

“Oh, why?” Zhao Yǎn smiled, looking at her.

“Because my brother is physically weak and can’t swim. Wenren Lin is physically adept and can swim to shore by himself.”

Zhao Yān opened a bright, sweet smile, walking backward with her hands behind her back. “Don’t worry, Zhao Yǎn, you are irreplaceable in my heart.”

Zhao Yǎn suddenly laughed lightly and shook his head.

“But Yan’er, you’re not good at swimming either. So the correct answer should be: you should protect yourself first. No matter when or for whom, you should never rashly place yourself in danger.”

“Wouldn’t that make me terrible?” Zhao Yān was somewhat dissatisfied.

Zhao Yǎn stopped walking.

In the evening breeze, the young man had grown considerably taller, his beautiful face matured, but his tenderness remained: “Whatever Yan’er chooses, just move forward with it. Being assigned in marriage to someone and choosing someone yourself are different, aren’t they?”

Zhao Yān was startled, with light red immediately appearing on her cheeks.

The window paper between her and Wenren Lin that had not yet been broken through had indeed been seen through by her brother.

Of course, they were twins connected by blood. What secret could be kept from her brother?

“Brother hopes you can be happy,” Zhao Yǎn said, stepping forward, bending down, and gently rubbing his sister’s head as he did in childhood.

“I know, I know. Zhao Yǎn, you’re getting more and more nagging. I don’t want to marry before you. Wait until you have found your place, then talk to me about these messy things,” Zhao Yān said, her eyes moist. She could only use baring her teeth and claws in embarrassment to hide the warmth flooding her heart. “I just hope that one day you’ll bring home a Crown Prince’s consort to manage you properly.”

She turned and walked a few steps, then stopped again.

The twilight breeze was very gentle. Zhao Yān pressed her lips together and said softly: “The same for me.”

I also hope you will be happy, brother.

Now Shen Jingming had officially entered the court, and Cheng Jixing from Mingde Academy had won first place in the palace examination, becoming the first humble-born top scholar in the Tianyou era. Zhao Yān also conceived the idea of establishing a women’s school in the future…

Great Xuan was quietly changing in a way that moistened things silently, eventually to welcome a day when heaven and earth would be renewed.

By then may her brother find happiness and live a long life.

(End of Story)

Author’s Note:

Zhao Yǎn’s Diary:

【Although reluctant to part, I am very happy to be alive to witness Yan’er’s happiness.】

【My little cabbage will always be my most beloved little cabbage.】

Additional note: Actually, there were about a thousand more words. In this life, Liu Ying was the daughter of a minor official named Liu Ying.” Although not from a wealthy family, she had enough food and clothing, and her parents loved her.

She always felt her name was too ordinary, buried among noble ladies without shine, until a handsome, gentle young man recognized her and told her, “Your name is beautiful.”

In short, everyone returned to the Crown Prince’s side!

But after much hesitation, I ruthlessly deleted the thousand-plus words that followed. The Crown Prince is like the moon in water, and perhaps leaving it blank is better than a perfect ending.

See you in the next book~

PS: ① “The world is not one person’s world, but the world’s world. One who shares the world’s prosperity gains the world; one who monopolizes the world’s prosperity loses the world.” — The Six Secret Teachings from the Warring States period.

② “Meeting people without speaking of worldly affairs, is to be a person without worldly affairs.” — Du Xunhe of the Tang Dynasty