Wenren Lin had been busy with something lately and hadn’t come to the Eastern Palace to supervise “studies” for several nights in a row.

Zhao Yān, occupied with the preparations for the Empress’s birthday celebration, was happy to take advantage of this reprieve. She locked the two unfinished books in a drawer and put them out of her mind.

Tomorrow’s troubles would come tomorrow. She’d deal with it when Wenren Lin remembered to check her homework.

Mid-June, the hall was quiet. The slight coolness from the ice mirror could hardly counter the extreme heat of midsummer.

Zhao Yān held two or three sketches of jade pendant patterns while wearing a chest binding beneath her summer clothes. She rolled on the bamboo mat like a pancake. On the nearby table lay carving knives, scissors, and other tools, with several high-quality pieces of jade arranged in a brocade box.

Liu Ying entered the hall with hands clasped, taking a fan from Li Fu and gently fanning Zhao Yān to provide some cool air.

Li Fu, displaying good intuition, withdrew and closed the hall doors.

“Is there news of Liu Baiwei?”

Zhao Yān knew Liu Ying had important matters to report and asked.

…

…

Liu Ying shook her head and said in a low voice: “Lady He from the Empress’s side visited. She said the old Prince of Yingchuan arrived in the capital yesterday with his illegitimate grandson, intending to seek the Emperor’s decree to let the young prince acknowledge his ancestry and return to the family.”

“Prince of Yingchuan?”

Zhao Yān searched through the registry of imperial clan members in her mind and remembered.

This old Prince was technically her father’s cousin, approaching seventy, with only one son who had passed away from illness ten years ago.

“I recall that the heir to the Prince of Yingchuan died suddenly without leaving descendants. Where did this young prince come from?”

“Reportedly born to a woman outside the family, only recently acknowledged.”

“Why at this particular time… Where was he found?”

“That’s unknown for now. The old Prince is keeping the information closely guarded.”

Zhao Yān thought for a moment, then said with a slight curl of her lips: “Although the Prince of Yingchuan shares the same clan and surname as Father Emperor, they’re separated by five generations. He merely enjoys the title without any real power. Having another young prince won’t impact the Eastern Palace.”

Unlike Consort Xu’s unborn child, which was already causing a storm throughout the city before even being born.

Liu Ying said, “Even so, this young prince has appeared at a suspiciously convenient time and is rushing to enter the palace. The Empress is concerned about possible ulterior motives and wants Your Highness to be cautious.”

Zhao Yān nodded to show she understood, then remembered something. She retrieved the lotus jade pendant left by Zhao Yǎn from under her pillow, gently stroking the slight crack on its surface with her finger.

“Let’s go with this pattern.”

She rose and sat at the table, selecting a piece of jade with matching quality from the brocade box.

Zhao Yǎn had always loved lotus patterns. Carving one by hand in his name would surely please the Empress.

Zhao Yān thought this would be a way of showing filial piety on behalf of Zhao Yǎn.

……

“Last winter was bitterly cold. Not only did the rebels suffer, but countless refugees outside the city froze to death. Who would have thought summer would be so scorching…”

In Chongwen Hall, Pei Sa rolled up his sleeves, exposing his arms to cool off, his broken eyebrows knotted together.

Zhao Yān fanned herself, not only wearing thick clothing but also wrapped in layers of chest binding, leaving her feeling stuffy and short of breath.

This weather was truly abnormal.

Just as she was thinking this, Li Fu entered from outside and quietly requested: “Your Highness, the young Prince of Yingchuan seeks an audience.”

“Who?”

“The illegitimate grandson just acknowledged by the old Prince of Yingchuan.”

Zhao Yān had never even met the old Prince of Yingchuan, let alone being acquainted with the young prince. She was surprised: “Why does he seek to see me?”

Li Fu glanced at the palace servants bringing tea and water in the hall, hesitant: “You’ll understand when you see him.”

Zhao Yān hadn’t expected to meet this young prince so soon. Whatever his intentions, they would become clear upon meeting.

With a quarter hour still remaining before Wenren Lin’s martial arts class, she contemplated briefly and instructed: “Have him wait in the rear hall.”

Zhao Yān walked through the long corridor toward the rear hall.

The door was half-closed. She could vaguely see a noble young man in moon-white satin with gold trim standing by the window, arms crossed over his chest. His high ponytail swayed slightly with the tapping of his boots, seemingly impatient from waiting.

Quite the temperament, Zhao Yān thought. Imitating the “Crown Prince’s” manner, she spoke gently: “I heard you were looking for me…”

The young man turned his head at the sound, and Zhao Yān’s unfinished words came to an abrupt halt.

Their eyes met, and Zhao Yān’s feigned gentleness instantly crumbled. After a moment, she widened her eyes and said: “How is it you?!”

The young Prince of Yingchuan… no, Liu Baiwei lowered his crossed arms. All his impatience and anxiety vanished the moment he saw Zhao Yān.

He slightly raised his chin, habitually arching his long eyebrows, declaring proudly: “I told you I would come back to find Your Highness.”

Not far away, on a tree shade near the palace wall, a jet-black cat with green eyes stretched lazily, then moved elegantly through the intertwining branches. With a leap, it jumped onto the upturned eaves, climbed over the railing, and familiarly brushed against a pair of long, straight official boots.

“So the one surnamed Liu truly chose to return.”

Wenren Lin sat in a chair, taking a piece of dried meat from a small pouch to feed the black cat. His face was against the sunlight, showing no trace of emotion.

“That persistent fox spirit changed his skin and transformed himself into the young Prince of Yingchuan.”

Zhang Cang stared at the corridor of the rear hall of Chongwen Hall, indignantly saying, “My lord, why not use some tactics to invalidate his identity as a young prince? After all, he’s been in exile for so many years—who knows if he’s genuine or not.”

Wenren Lin stroked the black cat’s fur, glancing at Zhang Cang: “Clever.”

Zhang Cang chuckled: “Of course…”

Noticing his master’s increasingly cold gaze, Zhang Cang’s smile froze as he lowered his head awkwardly: “This humble servant has overstepped and presumed to instruct my lord again.”

He was quick to admit his mistake, but his mind worked slowly.

Previously, when Liu Baiwei disguised himself as a woman and stayed close to the young Crown Prince, his lord couldn’t tolerate it, even risking offending the young Crown Prince to fake Liu’s death and send him away. Why wasn’t he in a hurry now?

As Zhang Cang pondered, he suddenly seemed to realize something and exclaimed with an enlightened look: “I understand now! That fox has reclaimed his identity as a young prince, making him of the same clan and surname as the Crown Prince. According to our dynasty’s customs, people of the same clan and surname, even separated by seventeen or eighteen generations, cannot be together!”

How brilliant his lord was! Without shedding blood, he had thoroughly crushed that male fox’s hopes!

Zhang Cang was completely in awe.

While he was overwhelmed with admiration, Wenren Lin remained calm.

He wiped his hands with a handkerchief, lowering his gaze to turn his frost-white, slender palm, suddenly wanting to stroke something softer and more delicate.

He then turned and went downstairs toward Chongwen Hall.

Under the corridor, Zhao Yān and Liu Baiwei stood shoulder to shoulder, listening to the wind chimes tinkling.

“The old man has gone to Taiji Hall to see the Emperor. He’ll probably be waiting for a while, so I snuck away here on my own.”

Liu Baiwei had changed into cloud satin brocade, the gold and white colors accentuating his red lips and white teeth, full of youthful spirit—vastly different from when he was disguised as a woman or a scholar.

He snorted: “The lamps at Mingde Academy must stay lit, but I didn’t want to wait like a cloistered wife longing for news from Your Highness, so I had to resort to this.”

It took Zhao Yān quite some time to accept what she was seeing.

“What happened exactly?”

She didn’t know where to begin, “Aren’t you surnamed Liu?”

Liu Baiwei seemed reluctant to speak, parting his lips before honestly saying: “Liu is my mother’s surname.”

The heir to the Prince of Yingchuan was the old Prince’s only son, all-powerful in the local area. Any beauty he desired was just a word away, easily taking a young girl’s virtue.

That girl was the daughter of a private tutor, as beautiful and graceful as an orchid, yet she suffered this calamity without reason. After the heir had his fill, he left without a backward glance, marrying a noble lady of equal status. He didn’t even give the Liu family’s daughter any recognition, infuriating Tutor Liu so much that he vomited blood and died.

Liu Baiwei mocked: Such tyrannical behavior would be considered cliché even in storybooks, and ridiculously, it was a nightmare that had truly happened.

The Liu family’s daughter sold all her possessions to seek refuge with relatives and gave birth to a son at the cost of her life. She thought her miserable life would end there, but who knew the heir to the Prince of Yingchuan would receive karmic retribution for his many sins, suddenly falling ill and dying.

With no heir in the Prince’s mansion, once the old Prince passed away, the court would reclaim the title and stipend of the Prince of Yingchuan.

How could these royal parasites give up the meat in their mouths?

Only then did the heir’s wife remember that her husband had left behind an illegitimate son.

She sent people to kill the Liu woman, wanting to keep the son but eliminate the mother, to secure the Prince’s estate.

However, that woman escaped with her son. On a rainy night, with her last breath, she entrusted her nine-year-old son to her late father’s good friend, Master Linjiang.

“I changed my name and traveled with Master Linjiang for seven years. The Prince of Yingchuan’s mansion never stopped searching for my whereabouts, until the sixteenth year of Tianyou, when Master Linjiang recommended me to Mingde Academy.”

Liu Baiwei leaned against the railing, calmly saying, “The following spring, I met the Crown Prince who was staying at Mingde Academy.”

He deeply hated these royal relatives and officials who had destroyed the Liu family, and equally despised the filthy blood that flowed in half of his veins. His lifelong quest was to see justice done in the light of day, with no escape for the specters of darkness, to comfort the souls of his mother and maternal grandfather.

Thus, from the first day he conversed with the Crown Prince, he knew he had followed the right person.

Zhao Yān suddenly recalled that in Yuquan Palace’s Rain Listening Pavilion, when Liu Baiwei revealed the truth about “Extinguishing the Lamp” to her, he had indeed mentioned: “I came to Mingde Academy originally to hide. Having the chance to hide within the Eastern Palace was even better.”

At that time, Zhao Yān was so moved by the pure and unyielding spirit of her brother and his companions rushing like moths into the flame that her heart surged with grief, momentarily forgetting to explore the deeper meaning of Liu Baiwei’s confession.

Liu Baiwei turned his head away, explaining in a low voice: “I didn’t intentionally conceal it. Later, I thought about confessing my background to Your Highness…”

But then came the lighting of Jingjian Tower, meeting Wang Yu, learning about Prince Su bullying Your Highness, and then being forced to fake his death… Events came one after another, and he ultimately lost the opportunity to confess.

Hearing this, Zhao Yān seemed to understand something.

She also leaned against the railing, her clear eyes looking at this familiar yet strange, arrogant young man beside her, and asked softly: “Did you return for the Eastern Palace?”

All of Liu Baiwei’s wandering hardships were due to the Prince of Yingchuan’s household. He must despise the title of “young prince.”

Liu Baiwei paused, then laughed, instinctively moving to put his arm around Zhao Yān’s shoulders.

Then he realized that his current identity no longer allowed him to intimately touch the sleeves or shoulders of the Crown Prince.

His raised hand made a turn in the air. He rubbed his nose and said: “It’s not entirely for the sake of legitimately seeing Your Highness. I’ve just figured out some things—if there’s ready-made power to use, why not take advantage of it?”

Zhao Yān seemed to see through his thoughts and said, “You don’t need to force yourself.”

“Is Your Highness concerned about me?”

Liu Baiwei pointed to his heart, saying clearly, “Rest assured, Your Highness, I’m merely changing my identity to fight alongside you. My resolve won’t change because of this.”

Zhao Yān understood, but the most precious thing in the world was the word ‘perseverance.’

Liu Baiwei was like this, as were the deceased Zhao Yǎn and the Lamp Extinguishers.

She smiled and said earnestly, “Liu Baiwei, you truly have the spirit of youth and the manner of a gentleman.”

When she smiled, all the brilliant light between the clouds fell into her eyes.

Liu Baiwei paused, then unnaturally turned away his gaze, looking at his toes: “Your Highness praises me too much, aren’t you afraid your conscience will hurt? A pitiful background is no excuse for willingly sinking low. I struggle desperately to avoid becoming an evildoer. How could I forget my original beliefs just because I now hold a high position?”

But looking deeper, there were regrets.

Liu Baiwei seemed lost in thought: “I often said I would take care of Your Highness for Zhao Yǎn. Now, we’ve truly become family…”

“Becoming family isn’t so bad. By calculation, I should call you a cousin.”

“We’re distant relatives, six or seven generations removed. What kind of cousin is that?”

Liu Baiwei seemed both resistant and unwilling, his gritted teeth somewhat reminiscent of “Liu Ji.”

However, sharing the same surname was an undeniable fact, and he could only reluctantly abandon his thoughts.

Zhao Yān watched him inflate and deflate, and couldn’t help but find it amusing: “What did Father Emperor say?”

Liu Baiwei replied without interest: “The old man asked the Emperor to bestow a courtesy name on me, and that would formalize my return to the family.”

“Getting a courtesy name so early?” Zhao Yān was surprised.

She remembered that Liu Baiwei hadn’t yet reached the age for the capping ceremony to receive a courtesy name.

Liu Baiwei explained: “The old man urgently needs me to uphold the family’s appearance, so even before turning twenty, I can receive a courtesy name.”

Zhao Yān understood, recalling how her uncle, Marquis Ningyang Wei Yan, became the head of his family at fourteen and received his courtesy name “Zeran” at fifteen.

What about Wenren Lin?

She seemed to have never heard anyone call Wenren Lin by his courtesy name, although he had come of age two or three years ago.

Just as she was thinking, Liu Baiwei remembered the true purpose of his visit and interrupted her thoughts: “Is Your Highness still investigating the source of that poisonous fragrance?”

Zhao Yān refocused and replied solemnly: “Yes.”

As expected, Liu Baiwei became serious.

“I’ve discovered that even the Prince of Yingchuan’s household is seeking pills and medicines, maintaining contact with Shenguang Sect Taoists. These sorcerers’ tentacles have spread throughout the court and society.”

Clouds drifted by, the cicadas’ chirping subsided, and Liu Baiwei lowered his voice: “I always feel that something major will happen soon. Your Highness must be careful.”

Zhao Yān nodded: “I know. Literary lineage is the soul of a nation. I’ll leave Mingde Academy to you.”

After they exchanged intelligence, they saw a eunuch approaching from afar.

Liu Baiwei knew the eunuch was coming for him and stood straight: “I should go.”

Despite his words, his feet hadn’t moved an inch.

Zhao Yān nodded and said, “Alright.”

Liu Baiwei opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but finally just turned his head and said: “I will come to see Your Highness often.”

After that, he performed a scholar’s bow, took a deep breath, and then turned to leave.

Zhao Yān returned to Chongwen Hall, half a cup of tea’s time late.

In the hall, the bamboo blinds were half-lowered, smoke curling from the beast-shaped censers. Pei Sa and all the attendants had disappeared. Only Wenren Lin stood by the window, the sunlight filtering through the bamboo blind gaps gilding his official robe in a brilliant gold-red color. His cold, white profile was striking, as if embedded in a painting.

That position offered a perfect view of the corridor to the rear hall.

Zhao Yān’s heart suddenly jumped. She lowered her gaze and meekly returned to sit behind her desk.

“Where are Pei Sa and the others?” she couldn’t help asking.

Wenren Lin turned around, looking at the little princess sitting properly, and replied slowly: “I suddenly thought of checking Your Highness’s homework, so I had all the troublesome people leave.”

Zhao Yān’s eyelid twitched, unsure which “homework” he meant.

The atmosphere in the empty great hall was truly ambiguous, making her feel as if sitting on pins and needles, anxious and uneasy.

She pretended to be calm, laying out paper and moistening the inkstone. Suddenly remembering something, she picked up a brush and asked: “What is Tutor’s courtesy name?”

Wenren Lin raised his eyes to look at her.

Zhao Yān also knew her attempt to change the subject was somewhat clumsy, but she genuinely wanted to know the answer. She had to steel herself and continue: “I just recalled that Tutor has come of age, yet I don’t know what courtesy name Tutor has taken.”

A courtesy name? Yes, Wenren Lin had one.

When he came of age, all his family elders were already dead, so he had chosen his courtesy name.

Now that he was an unrelated prince controlling the court, second only to one person but above ten thousand others, naturally, no one dared to call him by his courtesy name. Had the little princess not nervously brought it up, even he would have almost forgotten about it.

Zhao Yān observed Wenren Lin’s expression, detecting no trace of resistance or annoyance.

He simply walked steadily from the window, the streaks of sunlight peeling away from him layer by layer.

He stood behind Zhao Yān, then leaned down, his cool jade-like fingers holding her right hand that held the brush. Cheek against cheek, like teaching a child to hold a brush, he guided her to write two powerful characters on the paper.

Zhao Yān could even feel the long breaths brushing her ears, Wenren Lin’s presence enveloping her from all sides. Her heart pounded, her arm feeling as if it were rented, having lost all sensation, only able to follow Wenren Lin’s guidance in writing.

“Shao… yuan?”

Zhao Yān savored the two characters with still-wet ink, noting how the brushstrokes were as magnificent as swords, grand and powerful. She turned her head to ask, “Is it the ‘yuan’ from ‘erudite’?”

Wenren Lin laughed.

For some reason, Zhao Yān felt this laugh carried a hint of mockery.

Wenren Lin, feeling the jade-like, delicate skin in his palm, replied with an unruffled voice: “It’s the ‘yuan’ from ‘abyss.'”