“After I left, I kept feeling that something wasn’t right. Worried that Your Highness might be in danger, I decided to turn back to check.”
Liu Baiwei’s voice was muffled, seemingly angry with someone. “Who would have thought I’d see him swaggering out of your chambers!”
Recalling the faint sounds from inside the bed curtains, he had nearly fallen apart at that moment!
If not for Liu Ying appearing just in time to pull him away, and his ankle hurting too badly, he would have rushed up to demand a clear explanation.
Zhao Yān looked at Liu Baiwei’s fuming back, her feelings complicated.
Liu Baiwei was her brother’s most trusted ally and the first outsider to recognize her true identity, serving as a thread connecting all her memories of Zhao Yǎn.
She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose honesty, lowering her eyelashes and saying softly: “I’ve always seen you as an extension of my brother. I didn’t tell you about Wenren Lin because I feared you would be disappointed after finding out.”
Her words were a tacit admission, and Liu Baiwei turned around in surprise.
“Your relationship with him… didn’t just begin recently?”
…
…
Liu Baiwei was intelligent. Recalling the period when Zhao Yān had withdrawn like a tightly closed clam, he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Your Highness’s condition became strange after the Hairpin Banquet. Was it then?”
Zhao Yān silently confirmed.
“Later, when Your Highness had me apply makeup and draw your eyebrows… was that also… for him?”
Before Zhao Yān could answer, Liu Baiwei staggered back two steps in shock. “If that’s the case, I wasn’t the first man to see Your Highness as a girl?”
Having kept this from Liu Baiwei for so long, Zhao Yān felt uncomfortable.
Now that she had confessed, she felt a liberating relief and explained: “At the Hairpin Banquet, I was schemed against by Zhao Yuan’yu. It was just… an accident.”
Liu Baiwei’s mind thundered as he clutched his shattered heart, struggling to breathe.
Liu Baiwei had always been flamboyant and passionate. This was the first time Zhao Yān had seen him so devastated that he couldn’t speak. She felt apologetic and sighed softly: “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Why should Your Highness say ‘sorry’?”
Those two words jolted Liu Baiwei’s spirit back. His face flushed with anger as he said, “Shouldn’t it be that dishonorable scoundrel who violated his rank who should strip himself bare, bind himself, and kneel to beg for forgiveness?”
Zhao Yān blinked, thinking to herself: The person in this world who could make Wenren Lin kneel and beg for forgiveness probably hadn’t been born yet.
“Did he force Your Highness? Did he threaten you?” Liu Baiwei paced back and forth, questioning.
“No.”
Zhao Yān smiled helplessly. Strictly speaking, that first time, she had been the one who forced Wenren Lin.
“How can Your Highness still smile?” Liu Baiwei was more indignant than if he had been the one dishonored.
Zhao Yān placed a finger against her chin, her long eyelashes lowered, covering the small red mole at the corner of her eye as she spoke softly: “I just feel that emperors often favor noble ladies from various clans to balance court politics, essentially exchanging favors for benefits. If that’s the case, why can’t I do the same?”
After speaking, she paused in surprise. A long-concealed knot in her heart seemed rinsed by clear spring water, suddenly becoming transparent.
In terms of power and benefits, who in the world could match Prince Su? So many sought his attention without success. If she could make him her servant, why should that be considered shameful or embarrassing?
“But it shouldn’t be him!”
Liu Baiwei rolled up his sleeves and said, “This man is dangerous, cunning, and extremely vicious. Among all the young nobles of the five tombs, civil officials, and military generals, which one isn’t more suitable and obedient than him? Even I…”
The Crown Prince’s only sister, the unparalleled and proud Princess Changfeng—how could she be touched by Wenren Lin, a mere sycophantic official?!
Liu Baiwei felt a stifling sensation in his chest, but more than anything, he felt regret.
If he had revealed his male identity earlier, if he had kept his eyes focused on Princess Changfeng day and night, could he have protected her original brightness? Would these terrible entanglements and accidents have never happened?
Liu Baiwei deflated in dejection, leaning against a pillar as he murmured in a daze: “When I face Zhao Yǎn in the future, how will I explain this to him…”
Unlike Zhao Yǎn’s gentle tolerance, Liu Baiwei was about to explode with anger after just a few sentences. He seemed overbearing and noisy, but every word was protective—truly a harsh tongue with a soft heart.
The wind swept across a thousand mountains, clearing the misty clouds.
Zhao Yān’s eyes warmed with gentle light as she said earnestly: “Don’t worry, when we see Zhao Yǎn in the future, I will explain to him myself.”
In the pavilion, Cai Tian reported in detail the conversation he had overheard in the corridor.
“Is that so? Just an accident.”
Wenren Lin savored Zhao Yān’s earlier words, his face coldly handsome without much emotion. “The little princess even wants to emulate the emperor, using this Prince as a bargaining chip for benefits…”
He laughed to himself. The bamboo curtains of the solitary pavilion fluttered, and the distant indigo mountains became blurry.
Wenren Lin couldn’t help but recall how the two had approached earlier, laughing together—a carefree brightness she had never shown when facing him.
They were even holding hands. Very well.
She left without looking back, following the surname Liu, and after a quarter of an hour, she still hadn’t returned to apologize. Her wings had truly hardened.
With so many admirers around her, no wonder she had said “first choice” rather than “only choice.”
Wenren Lin fingered the jade-inlaid ring on his index finger, suddenly feeling a familiar pain in his chest, spreading like ripples on water.
Was his poison about to flare up again?
He raised his hand to press against it, feeling the fleeting aftershock. His thin lips were so pale they were almost bloodless.
Wenren Lin stood there for another hour, his gaze fixed on the empty corridor. Very well, he had given her a chance.
After a long time, Wenren Lin turned around and slowly said, “We will return to the palace the day after tomorrow. The one surnamed Liu need not remain.”
Seeing the exquisite dark colors in his eyes, Cai Tian was startled.
There were still nearly ten days before the poison would flare up—why had the Prince’s face become so frighteningly pale?
……
The day of return to the palace was blessed with fine weather. White clouds drifted in the blue sky as the winding procession of porters carrying chests and boxes seemed endless.
Although Zhao Yān had stayed at Yuquan Palace for just twenty short days, what she had seen and experienced during those twenty days exceeded the past half year, like climbing from the foot of the mountain to its waist, no longer seeing only a single leaf. Though mist remained, her view had become deeper and broader.
Now she had to return to the imperial city and resume her life shuttling between Chongwen Hall and the Eastern Palace. She felt somewhat reluctant to leave.
“Where is Liu Ji?” Zhao Yān looked around at the neatly arranged palace servants and the caravan, but didn’t see Liu Baiwei.
Could he be so devastated that he had secluded himself for a day and was still angry?
Liu Ying stepped forward with a fan and replied: “Just now, Li Fu was sent to Tingyu Pavilion to inquire. He said that she hasn’t finished packing yet. The sun is growing hot; Your Highness should get in the carriage first.”
Zhao Yān nodded in agreement. Just as she was about to board the Eastern Palace carriage, she saw Cai Tian driving another, more spacious carriage toward her. He bowed and said: “Please, Crown Prince, deign to ride in this one.”
Zhao Yān recognized it as Wenren Lin’s carriage and instructed Liu Ying: “Leave mine for Liu Ji. His foot is still injured, and my carriage is more comfortable.”
Liu Ying complied, helping Zhao Yān board Prince Su’s carriage.
Inside, the embroidered cushions were plush and soft. The Shu brocade curtains shimmered subtly. On the long table were an incense burner and ice mirrors, among other items. A faint fragrance mixed with threads of coolness diffused throughout, creating perfect comfort.
However, Wenren Lin was not inside.
“Where is your Prince?” Zhao Yān wondered, lifting the curtain to ask.
Cai Tian, riding alongside as an escort, respectfully answered: “The Prince has urgent matters to attend to and cannot get away. He ordered this humble servant to escort Your Highness back to the palace.”
Zhao Yān remembered that Zhang Cang was responsible for the daily protection of the prince’s mansion, while this Cai Tian, who appeared and disappeared mysteriously, seemed to be in charge of more important tasks like arrests and espionage… why had Wenren Lin sent him?
Despite her doubts, Zhao Yān didn’t think too much about it and ordered the procession to depart.
Following the mountain path downward, the green shade receded. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaf gaps, making Zhao Yān drowsy in the warmth.
Perhaps it was the subtle incense in the carriage and the cooling effect of the ice mirrors, but even Liu Ying’s fan slowed its pace. Zhao Yān found a comfortable position, resting her chin on her bent elbow as she closed her eyes.
After sleeping for a short while, she suddenly heard chaotic hoofbeats mixed with alarmed cries.
The carriage stopped abruptly. Zhao Yān immediately became alert, rubbing her eyes as she asked: “What happened?”
Could it be another foolhardy assassination attempt?
Just as she lifted the curtain to inquire, she saw Gu Xing racing forward on horseback from the rear of the procession, his expression grave as he reported: “Your Highness, Lady Liu Ji’s carriage suddenly bolted and plunged down the cliff.”
Liu Ying’s fan froze in mid-air, her eyes filled with shock.
Zhao Yān doubted she was still dreaming, or perhaps had misheard. She sat stunned for a moment before asking: “Whose carriage?”
“Lady Liu Ji’s.”
Gu Xing’s voice lowered as he dismounted to admit his fault: “We were unable to stop it in time and couldn’t save her…”
Zhao Yān suddenly bent down and jumped out of the carriage, hurriedly cutting through the procession, passing the either panicked or silent palace servants as she rushed toward the accident site at the end of the convoy.
Liu Ying followed closely behind, quietly instructing Gu Xing: “Please, Commander Gu, strengthen security to protect Her Highness.”
This mountain path led directly to Yuquan Palace. For the safety of the royal family, the roadside had been reinforced with railings. Now, a gap had been smashed in the railing. On the ground were several chaotic brake marks. Following the carriage wheel tracks forward led to a deep, bottomless ravine…
Cai Tian had ordered his men to cordon off the accident site. From the scattered wooden debris and carriage curtains, it was indeed the carriage that Zhao Yān had given to Liu Baiwei.
Her chest tightened as she could easily imagine how terrifying and desperate that moment must have been when the carriage plunged.
“Send people down to search! You must bring the person back up!” Zhao Yān’s voice was hoarse as she commanded, “Quickly!”
Yet with such high cliffs and such rapid summer currents in the ravine, everyone knew the hope was slim.
For a full four hours, from midday until sunset, the Eastern Palace guards and servants went down three times in succession, only retrieving some wooden fragments of the carriage from downstream, along with a mud-and-sand-soaked light cyan summer robe with large sleeves—
It was the one Liu Baiwei loved to wear when dressed as a woman.
Without finding the body, Zhao Yān calmed down and asked: “Who was with Liu Ji when the accident occurred?”
Gu Xing answered: “When this humble servant arrived, Deputy Commander Cai was already there.”
Zhao Yān’s brows darkened as she looked toward Cai Tian, who stood at a distance with a normal expression.
Thinking calmly now, she realized there was something suspicious about Cai Tian earlier asking her to board Prince Su’s carriage. As soon as she left, Liu Baiwei, behind her, met with an accident. Could everything be such a coincidence?
Recalling the heavy, unfathomable gaze from behind when Liu Baiwei had pulled her away from Wenren Lin the day before, a bold conjecture arose in Zhao Yān’s mind.
She said to Gu Xing, “Continue searching along the water flow. Report back immediately if there’s any news.”
Then she lifted the carriage curtain and said to Cai Tian, who was escorting on horseback: “I wish to see your Prince. Please lead the way, Deputy Commander Cai.”
Riding at full gallop, by nightfall, the carriage stopped at the main entrance of Prince Su’s mansion.
This was the first time Zhao Yān had truly set foot in Wenren Lin’s domain. The mansion was clean and serene, but she had no interest in appreciating the scenery.
Clutching Liu Baiwei’s mud-and-sand-stained robe with large sleeves, her face pale, she walked quickly and urgently. Even Cai Tian, accustomed to rapid movement, could barely keep up and had to quicken his pace to lead her to the three-story-high, expansive library.
Cai Tian stepped forward and knocked on the door. A familiar deep voice soon came from inside: “Enter.”
Before Cai Tian could open the door, Zhao Yān herself strode in quickly.
Immediately, the spacious, dimly lit library spread before her eyes.
Zhao Yān’s gaze first fell on three walls of bookshelves that reached so high their tops couldn’t be seen, then on a pair of crane-headed bronze lamps singing loudly in the chamber. In the glow cast by the bronze lamps’ candles sat a long desk.
Wenren Lin was seated behind the desk wearing a plain ink-colored robe with broad sleeves, his eyes half-lowered as he dipped his brush in ink.
He seemed to have expected Zhao Yān’s arrival and, without looking up, said: “Your Highness is three hours late returning.”
Zhao Yān hadn’t even caught her breath before getting straight to the point: “Where is Liu Ji?”
Wenren Lin continued writing without pause, appearing completely detached as he calmly asked: “Who?”
“Liu Ji. She fell off the cliff today. I know it wasn’t an accident.”
Zhao Yān seemed to grasp a faint ray of hope as she stepped forward and said: “If he’s still alive, would the Grand Tutor please return him to me?”
Wenren Lin finally stopped writing and raised his eyes to look at her.
Those eyes were dark and profound, reflecting warm light in the candlelight.
Wenren Lin looked at the dirty garment Zhao Yān was clutching tightly and suddenly smiled, saying softly: “Is Your Highness questioning this Prince over an outsider?”
In stark contrast to his gentle tone was the intimidating pressure in his eyes.
“He is my brother’s best ally, not an outsider.”
Among those around Zhao Yǎn, some had died, some had left, and only Liu Baiwei remained. Zhao Yān simply felt she couldn’t fail to protect her brother’s last ally.
She swallowed and pressed her lips together before saying: “I have only these two trustworthy people by my side now. Whatever his faults may be, I am willing to accept responsibility for them. Please, Grand Tutor, return him to me.”
“Trustworthy people?”
Wenren Lin softly repeated the phrase as a sudden pain spread in his chest, both suffocating and cold.
Almost masochistically, he savored this unfamiliar, dull pain before looking at Zhao Yān’s eyes, which held a beseeching hope, as he rose and slowly walked in front of her.
He wiped the cinnabar ink stains from his hands and said, “Liu Ji is dead. There will no longer be anyone named Liu Ji by Your Highness’s side. Is Your Highness satisfied with this Prince’s answer?”
Zhao Yān widened her eyes, looking at him in disbelief.
“Is Your Highness angry?”
Wenren Lin’s expression remained unchanged as he raised his hand to stroke her wet, reddened eyes, saying gently: “Before Your Highness came, didn’t you already believe that this Prince killed him? This Prince merely admitted to the crime already pinned on him. What is Your Highness angry about now?”
His tone was so gentle, yet his words were so cruel.
Zhao Yān’s eyes flickered as if she heard a faint sound from deep within her heart—the sound of something breaking.
She stood bewildered, her breath trembling as she asked: “Why would you do this, Grand Tutor?”
“Your Highness is showing weakness and acting coquettish now, but it’s too late.”
Wenren Lin’s face was as white as frost as he gazed at her calmly and said, “The one surnamed Liu fell from such a height, I fear his remains are lost forever. Your Highness has brought her clothing, which is good.”
He then ordered Cai Tian: “Go bring Liu’s elder brother up here to claim the personal effects.”
He had even detained Liu Baiwei’s family members!?
Zhao Yān’s mind buzzed. When she came to her senses, she was already trembling as she gripped the short dagger in her sleeve.
Cai Tian soon brought someone up—a young man wearing snow-white Confucian robes with black trim. He came staggering with his head lowered, his figure somewhat familiar.
The more tumultuous Wenren Lin’s anger grew in his chest, the more calm and light his exterior remained: “Take the clothes and make a cenotaph for your sister.”
The young man breathed heavily several times before finally raising his flushed face and abandoning a lifetime of gentlemanly restraint as he shouted: “Your sister’s cenotaph!”
The all-too-familiar loud voice finally confirmed the young man’s identity to Zhao Yān—
It was Liu Baiwei, Liu Baiwei restored to male attire.
Her tightly wound heart instantly dropped back into her chest as Zhao Yān abruptly turned to look at the pale and handsome Wenren Lin.
And then, slowly, her eyes reddened with tears.