The windows of Jinjian Tower were tightly shut, yet faint light still penetrated through the gaps in the window lattice, illuminating the tiny dust particles floating in the pavilion.

Zhao Yān sat collapsed on the ground, forced to turn her head to gaze at Wenren Lin.

This position was too awkward, twisting Zhao Yān’s neck until it ached severely. She had to carefully move her knees to turn her body, switching to a face-to-face position.

Facing him directly, she realized Wenren Lin’s eyes held a frigid, oppressive quality completely different from his gentle tone, with dark emotions churning within.

Zhao Yān’s eyelashes trembled slightly, but she quickly steadied her gaze.

“If breaking my legs could make me obediently follow orders… then when I was attacked last year, or when facing Zhao Yuan’yu’s threats, I should have behaved.”

Wenren Lin was amused by her candid, almost righteous words. He gripped her wrist with one hand, pulling it to his chest, and said slowly: “Then your hands will be tied as well. If you still don’t behave, I’ll seal your meridians and acupoints, turning you into a doll to place beside this prince.”

His voice was low and soft, his other hand moving down along the acupoints of Zhao Yān’s neck and spine, as if demonstrating.

Zhao Yān resisted the urge to tremble. Her captured hand formed a light fist, pressing against Wenren Lin’s chest to create some distance as she asked softly: “Is that really what the Grand Tutor wants?”

Seeing Wenren Lin remain silent, she pressed her lips together: “Did the Grand Tutor teach me self-defense, horseback riding and archery, military strategy and chess, only to one day turn me into a lifeless thing unable to speak or move?”

…

…

After a while, he suddenly smiled, staring at her moist lips and saying: “This prince never taught Your Highness how to defy him. Might as well, this tongue should be gone too.”

Zhao Yān closed her lips warily, pressing her delicate lips into a line.

After being quiet for just a moment, she raised her eyes as if understanding something, and asked uncertainly: “Is Prince Su… worried about me?”

He was so surprised by this unexpected conclusion that he momentarily forgot to refute it.

Zhao Yān carefully observed his reaction, which made her more certain. She said clearly: “Unless Zhao Yǎn’s death is connected to Prince Su, and my continued investigation would implicate Prince Su, what other reason would Prince Su have to stop me?”

Wenren Lin looked at her and said: “How does Your Highness know that the Crown Prince’s death isn’t related to this prince?”

Zhao Yān thought for a moment, then shook her head: “If my brother’s death was truly Prince Su’s doing, I wouldn’t be alive now. Prince Su’s anger today may be because I’m blocking some other plan of yours, or perhaps, it’s just a tiny bit of… concern for my presumptuousness?”

Wenren Lin repeated the word softly, a gentle smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

Even the Empress didn’t believe he had moved against the Eastern Palace, yet the little princess did. But what of it?

A person like him, bearing such heavy darkness, how could he waver with worry for an insignificant little princess?

“Your Highness is overthinking. Your life belongs to this prince; if you seek death, you can only die by this prince’s hand.”

He spoke casually, the fingers restraining her lower back tightening slightly. Zhao Yān immediately let out a muffled groan.

Wenren Lin paused, his tone unreadable: “This prince has not yet begun punishment, is Your Highness’s whimpering a bit too fake?”

Wenren Lin lowered his gaze to where she was tightly clutching herself and said lightly: “If Your Highness cannot endure this much pain, what kind of savior are you trying to be?”

“I never thought of saving anyone; I just want to find the enemy who used my name to kill my brother. Sailing in the night, there must be a lamp to carry on hope. My conscience is clear…”

Zhao Yān belatedly furrowed her brow, her body gradually hunching over, saying somewhat pitifully, “Just now my stomach hit the windowsill, it really hurts.”

Her expression didn’t seem feigned, and Wenren Lin’s brow also creased imperceptibly.

Finally, reluctantly suppressing the dark thoughts in his mind, he extended his arm and pulled her up from the ground lightly but steadily.

The pavilion had not been swept for a long time. After sitting there for so long, Zhao Yān’s exquisite moon-white robe was covered with a large patch of dust on the back.

Wenren Lin supported her waist as he bent down, naturally patting the dirty spots on the back of her lower garment.

The man’s hand was strong. Zhao Yān stumbled forward from the pats, and half her thigh immediately went numb. She hurriedly protected that tender area with her hand, a sense of shame washing over her face.

Wenren Lin’s dust-patting motion carried a hint of venting anger—two muffled sounds like an elder spanking a disobedient youngster…

Zhao Yān couldn’t help but feel her cheeks burn; the pain in her abdomen was forgotten as she looked at Wenren Lin in shock.

Though she wasn’t favored by the Emperor and Empress, in all her years, no one had ever dared treat her like this!

Yet Wenren Lin maintained a serious, dignified demeanor as he steadied her and said, “Move your hand.”

The tone brooked no argument. Zhao Yān knew she couldn’t push her luck any further and reluctantly bit her lip, moving her hand away by a couple of inches.

Wenren Lin didn’t respond but gave two more light pats, focusing on dusting off her lower garment.

The soft, slightly springy sensation beneath his palm trembled with each pat of the fabric. Wenren Lin unconsciously lowered his eyes, slowing his movements.

The solitary lamp hanging high quickly attracted the attention of several scholars who had remained at the academy.

“Since Master Linjiang retired to his hometown, and several teaching professors were subsequently expelled from Mingde Academy, with Jingming and Jixing buried underground… It’s been about a year, hasn’t it? For such a long time, no one has dared enter that pavilion.”

“Yes, I never expected to see the lamp lit again.”

A slightly younger scholar, newly admitted to the academy, tilted his head to look up, not understanding the significance. But the tribute students who had attended Master Linjiang’s lectures last year and witnessed the Crown Prince’s discussions all had solemn expressions as they gazed for a long time.

In this year’s special examination, all selected candidates were sons of aristocratic families; no one from Mingde Academy was chosen. Grieving over hidden talents, no one missed the days of diverse schools of thought and Jinjian Tower’s brilliantly lit nights more than they did.

“These days, the darkness has lasted too long,” someone in the academy sighed softly.

At the back door of Mingde Academy, the jujube trees stood gnarled and verdant, swaying in the wind.

Under the falling jujube blossoms, a disheveled scholar in plain clothes and straw sandals stood gasping against the wall, staring at the light in Jinjian Tower.

He was born timid.

Hearing that the Crown Prince, who had been silent for nearly a year, had left the palace to recuperate, he had risked returning to the capital from Cangzhou with faint hope, but for half a month he had hesitated, lacking the courage to step out of the post station.

Today, seeing the lamp lit on Mingde Academy’s high tower, he found himself standing here, lost in thought, before he realized it.

“You’ve grown a beard, and you look so miserable,” a slightly hoarse voice came from behind, seemingly disapproving. “You’ve aged ten years.”

The scholar turned around hastily to see a tall woman wearing a veil limping out from the back door. She lifted her hand to reveal a familiar, bold face.

“Baiwei…”

The scholar stepped back, seemingly ashamed to face an old friend as a “deserter.”

Some of their once-spirited classmates had hidden their identities, some had sacrificed themselves righteously, but only he had been afraid, choosing to flee before disaster befell him.

“You’re still as timid and fearful as ever. When things first started, I advised the Crown Prince that your temperament was unstable and you shouldn’t be used, but His Highness said, ‘He has light in his heart; even if it’s weak, as soon as Jinjian Tower’s bright lamp is lit, he will come fearlessly like a moth to the flame’…”

Liu Baiwei limped forward, raising his hand to punch the scholar’s chest heavily, saying angrily in a low voice, “Why did you take so long to come, Wang Yu?”

Wang Yu remained silent, staggering back against the brick wall from the punch, shedding two streams of tears.

…

Gu Xing stood guard in the hall downstairs and saw Wenren Lin and his own master coming down, one after the other. A trace of surprise flashed in his eyes.

The lantern in Her Highness’s hand was gone. Following the composed Prince Su, her cheeks showed a suspicious faint blush, and her steps down the stairs were somewhat unnatural.

“Where is Liu Ji?” Zhao Yān cleared her throat and asked.

Gu Xing said, “Lady Liu said she was going to meet an old friend and went to the back door.”

Zhao Yān glanced over to see Wenren Lin standing ahead with his hands behind his back, his fingertips lightly rubbing, as if savoring some tactile memory.

The more casual he appeared, the more unfathomable he was.

Zhao Yān could only be practical and said, “Leave my carriage for her. I will ride in Prince Su’s carriage back to Jade Spring Palace.”

Gu Xing looked at the time and, fearing they might miss the hour for the Crown Prince to leave the city, cupped his hands and said: “This servant obeys.”

The mountain road at night was slow and bumpy. Zhao Yān’s tailbone still felt somewhat numb, and she unconsciously shifted slightly, trying to move away from Wenren Lin.

The wind lifted the carriage curtain. Looking down from halfway up the mountain, the imperial city’s lights were scattered like stars, gently responding to Zhao Yān’s gaze.

Jade Spring Palace.

Following Zhao Yān’s instructions, Liu Ying personally brought moistened cotton cloths and clean water, then loosened layers of light yellow curtains, completely obscuring the bedchamber. Only then did she cautiously bow and leave, waiting in the corridor.

Inside the heavy curtains, Zhao Yān’s outer robe and belt lay in disarray on the foot stool.

She knelt at the edge of the bed, her hair undone, her pure white undergarment loosely pulled down to her elbows, revealing her luminous, thin shoulders, back, and layers of chest binding…

Wenren Lin examined the red-purple bruise on her abdomen, lightly touching it with his finger to check.

His fingertips were cool, causing Zhao Yān to shrink back slightly.

Wenren Lin looked up but said nothing, walking to a nearby low cabinet to take out the unused bruise ointment from last time. With one hand, he unscrewed the lid, scooped some with his finger, and applied it to Zhao Yān’s bruise.

After a refreshing coolness, the ointment warmed and penetrated, gradually creating a hot, stinging sensation.

Zhao Yān couldn’t help inhaling sharply, her flat, soft abdomen rising and falling. Wenren Lin placed his hand on her back without looking up and said, “Don’t move.”

The summer heat made it quite uncomfortable, and it was also somewhat itchy. Wenren Lin applied the medicine extremely slowly, pushing and rubbing, making it torturous.

“That should be enough…”

Zhao Yān protested softly, unable to resist raising her hand to scratch.

Wenren Lin caught her hand and said languidly: “The medicine isn’t dry yet. Don’t touch it.”

As he spoke, he pondered briefly, then pulled out the jade-inlaid belt from the pile of clothes and wrapped it around Zhao Yān’s captive wrists with a few twists.

Zhao Yān didn’t even see how he did it, but her wrists were bound behind her back, unable to move.

She struggled a bit, finding the tightness precisely calibrated—she couldn’t break free, yet it wasn’t tight enough to hurt.

Zhao Yān was bewildered and complained plaintively: “Why is Prince Su going this far?”

Wenren Lin continued rubbing the ointment, saying unhurriedly: “Who told Your Highness to be so unruly with your hands and feet, always touching things you shouldn’t touch? This prince had no choice but to resort to this measure.”

Zhao Yān was stunned: she merely refused to remain ignorant and confused, wanting to investigate the truth thoroughly… how had it become what he described?

She said incredulously: “Is Prince Su abusing his power for personal gain, fabricating charges?”

“Yes.”

Wenren Lin slightly raised the corner of his eye. “So what?”

What could she do? Zhao Yān couldn’t free her hands and could only deflate with a reddened face.

Just as she was biting her lip, enduring the moderate rubbing, voices suddenly came from outside the hall.

“Her Highness has already retired…”

“I have urgent matters to discuss, just two sentences.”

Liu Ji was accustomed to disregarding others; her voice approached from afar, quickly reaching the hanging curtains of the bedchamber.

Zhao Yān suddenly tensed, hurriedly twisting her body to hide further inside, trying to pull up the clothes hanging at her elbows.

Wenren Lin, still holding the medicine box in one hand, slowly furrowed his long eyebrows in displeasure.