Wenren Lin had stayed in the Eastern Palace until the Hour of the Tiger (3-5 AM), sitting in a chair browsing through books to pass the time, occasionally glancing at her somewhat improper sleeping face on the bed.

In the eight years since returning from purgatory, he had never shared a bed with anyone, as it would remind him of his youthful experience lying among piles of corpses.

Wenren Lin hooked his finger with hers, gently rubbing it, and lowered his gaze to look at her: “Staying overnight is against protocol.”

Despite being the most unrestrained person in the entire Great Xuan, he spoke the word “protocol” with a dutiful expression, which made Zhao Yān want to laugh.

She lay on her side, a strand of hair falling across her lips, gazing at him expectantly.

“What does it matter? Even if you weren’t serving as the Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor, with no obligation to assist the Eastern Palace day and night, no one would dare impeach you if you wished to stay.”

“Your Highness was just boasting about saving this prince, but clearly, you’re trying to… lead this prince into temptation.”

Standing against the candlelight, his features possessed a profound handsomeness. “Indeed, if this prince were to accompany you day and night, it would undoubtedly demonstrate to the court officials my dedication to assisting the Eastern Palace. Your Highness’s path would become much easier.”

Zhao Yān paused.

She had indeed thought this way before, but after experiencing more, her horizons had broadened. She knew that relying on others was not as good as being strong herself, and these thoughts had faded.

…

…

People speak of “returning home on a snowy night,” but Wenren Lin was like a traveler passing through the human realm. When Zhao Yān mentioned staying overnight, it was because she couldn’t bear to see him traveling between his residence and the imperial palace in the cold, snowy night, alone, with no place to call home.

“I noticed it’s already midnight, and you’ll need to teach at Chongwen Hall in three hours. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

Zhao Yān frowned slightly, releasing his hand and withdrawing under the covers. “If the Grand Tutor has concerns, I won’t insist.”

With that, she wrapped herself in the quilt and turned over, assuming a position with her back to him.

She wasn’t wearing her chest binding or hair bindings, and even through the thick quilt, the soft, delicate curves of a woman were visible. The smile in Wenren Lin’s eyes deepened as he lowered the bed curtains to block the light, followed by the sound of footsteps moving away.

Zhao Yān faced the inner side of the bed, listening intently as she heard the door open and close, sitting up in surprise.

He left?

She remained stunned, sitting blankly for a while before letting out a listless yawn.

Well, sleep is the most important thing. So she lay down with suppressed frustration and closed her eyes to follow the dream god.

Shortly after, the palace doors opened again, this time much more quietly, with deliberately softened footsteps. Zhao Yān, thinking it was Liu Ying coming to perform her routine duties of binding her chest and hair and checking the charcoal fire and windows, murmured with her eyes closed: “Has he left?”

The person behind her didn’t answer.

The bed curtain was lifted, and the mattress behind her sank slightly. Then, a slightly cool medicinal pill was pressed against her lips as Wenren Lin’s deep voice came: “Open your mouth.”

Zhao Yān’s sleepiness instantly vanished by half. She suddenly turned her head, but Wenren Lin took the opportunity to slip the pill into her slightly parted lips.

The familiar bitter taste flooded her mouth. Now the rest of her sleepiness completely disappeared. Zhao Yān covered her mouth and swallowed the pill with the tea Wenren Lin handed her, then rinsed her mouth. She remembered that in tonight’s intimacy, she hadn’t had time to take her contraceptive medicine.

“You went out just to get this?” Zhao Yān asked.

“Indeed. Only through this prince’s hands would I feel at ease.”

Wenren Lin set the teacup back on the bedside table and turned to look at her. “What did Your Highness think?”

“…” Zhao Yān remained silent.

Wenren Lin raised his hand to wipe away a drop of water from Zhao Yān’s lips, admonishing her: “Don’t take random medicines again.”

“I know, I know.”

Zhao Yān responded bashfully. How many more times must this embarrassing matter be mentioned?

She lay back under the covers and saw Wenren Lin still sitting at the bedside, watching her with a leisurely air. She swallowed and asked, “Why do you keep staring at me?”

Wenren Lin let his gaze fall to the space between her body and the edge of the bed, his smile deepening. “This prince is wondering when Your Highness will make some room.”

Zhao Yān realized his meaning and, clutching the quilt, wriggled inward like a worm, leaving half the space for him.

Wenren Lin gathered her hair scattered on the pillow to prevent it from being pressed, then removed his black boots and turned to lie down beside her.

The heavy bed curtains fell together like a waterfall, fitting tightly. In the dim view, a circle of faint light from the night lamp cast upon the bed curtains, highlighting the handsome profile silhouette of Wenren Lin at her side, with his deep-set brow, straight nose, and thin lips.

The feeling of sharing a bed was quite mysterious, as if only the two of them remained in the world. Though they had done more improper things, sensing another body’s presence still made her instinctively breathe more softly.

Zhao Yān looked at him with curiosity until Wenren Lin covered her eyes with his palm and said in a low voice: “Close your eyes.”

Zhao Yān blinked, her eyelashes brushing his palm like feathers. In the extreme darkness, sleepiness soon emerged.

She closed her eyes as told, and before long, her breathing became light and extended.

After a while, Wenren Lin moved his palm away and turned to look at her. His eyesight was excellent, able to see even in darkness, down to the slight trembling of the little princess’s eyelashes, slender and delicate.

Wenren Lin’s lips twitched slightly as he placed his hands on his chest and closed his eyelids.

In his dream, thick, foul-smelling blood enveloped him.

Ice-cold rainwater poured down in sheets. Wet ravens perched on broken halberds, tilting their heads to gaze at the crowded corpses lying together. From the gaps between the layers of corpses, a young eye filled with bloodshot appeared, its gray pupil reflecting the rain lines under the rolling dark clouds, without any luster.

Blood mixed with rainwater flowed down, full of damp, rotting smells.

“Father is leaving. Live well.”

“Brother Lin, Second Brother’s life is expendable, but this city cannot be lost. Once we give up, the lives of hundreds of thousands of civilians behind us will be forfeit! If the defense line breaks, Great Xuan will be in danger!”

“We are willing to fight to the death with the General! Our bones may not return home, but not an inch of our land can be lost!”

“Brother Lin, don’t move, be good! Second Brother doesn’t hurt, really doesn’t hurt… It’s just a pity about this new robe mother made…”

“Form a human wall! Protect the Young General!”

“Young General, live on! Only if you live will our brothers not have died in vain!”

Scene after scene overlapped, and the eye beneath the corpse pile finally gained some light. He painfully parted his peeling lips, catching the light red rainwater flowing down from the armor of the corpses.

The rainwater was nauseating, but the youth had no choice but to swallow it, desperately grasping at any chance of survival.

He had to live, to return to the capital alive, to avenge the nearly one hundred thousand soldiers who had been consumed by death.

The nightmare shattered, and the night was like ink.

Wenren Lin suddenly opened his eyes, precisely grabbing the arm that reached over.

A slender wrist, with delicate, warm skin. The frost in his eyes hadn’t dispersed as he turned expressionlessly to look.

Because the “Crown Prince” was frail, there were plenty of warm charcoal braziers in the hall. Zhao Yān had kicked at the corner of the quilt restlessly, nearly half her body exposed, her translucent white face showing the flush of deep sleep.

Her hair was slightly disheveled from sleep, her collar loose, the cleft between her delicate collarbones and soft peaks faintly visible. A beauty at his side, with warm fragrance enveloping him, he was no longer among putrid corpses.

The darkness in Wenren Lin’s eyes gradually dissipated, rippling into light waves.

He tucked Zhao Yān’s arm back under the quilt and tucked in the corners of the quilt again. Just as he was about to rise, he heard Zhao Yān’s indistinct voice: “Are you still not asleep?”

Wenren Lin had no choice but to remain still and responded quietly: “I was.”

“Don’t think too much, there will be a way…”

Zhao Yān mumbled to herself, instinctively seeking a cool spot, and burrowed into his embrace. Her forehead lightly pressed against his chest as she clutched his robe, sleeping soundly.

The softness of a woman adhered to him, dispelling the chill in his heart.

Wenren Lin didn’t move away. He bent his arm as a pillow, while his other hand lightly caressed the waist of the young woman in his arms. Although he had awakened from his dream, he had no hint of sleepiness left.

Perhaps on a snowy day, everyone craves warmth.

At least this time, he was no longer sitting alone on a cold couch playing with a short blade, eyes open until dawn.

……

At the Hour of the Rabbit (5-7 AM), the sky had not yet brightened.

Zhao Yān, being squeezed on the cheek, opened her eyes in a daze, momentarily stunned.

Wenren Lin still wore yesterday’s clothes, his black hair half-bound with a hairpin and half-loose. He was lying on his side with his elbow propped on the bed, supporting his head as he watched her. His long fingers with slight calluses pinched her cheek, then rubbed her earlobe, seemingly never tiring of it.

This was the first time she had opened her eyes in the morning to see Wenren Lin; he had truly stayed with her in the Eastern Palace for an entire night.

“Morning…” Zhao Yān murmured.

“Good morning, little Highness.”

Wenren Lin looked refreshed and spirited as he smiled at her. “Not fully awake yet? It’s time to wash up, have breakfast, and go to Chongwen Hall.”

“Is it already the Hour of the Rabbit?”

Zhao Yān stretched lazily under the covers, her slender arms extending, her legs kicking unintentionally, her chest rising and falling in wondrous contours.

Without binding her hair and chest last night, free from constraints, she had slept deeply and soundly, feeling as if she had just closed her eyes before being awakened.

Zhao Yān sat up groggily, about to undress, when she remembered that the person before her was not Liu Ying but a man with frightening vigor. While it would be fine to undress privately with him, dressing required Liu Ying’s oversight, and it wasn’t proper to have an outsider watching.

She hesitated for a moment, rubbed the tip of her nose, and said, “Perhaps you should step out for a moment. I’ll call Liu Ying in to help me dress.”

Wenren Lin raised the corner of his eye: “Is Your Highness already abandoning me after using me?”

“How so? Having such a large figure watching me change would frighten Liu Ying.”

Zhao Yān met his deeply smiling eyes, blushed, and pushed him, saying, “Come on, go quickly.”

Wenren Lin easily enclosed her fingertips in his palm, squeezed them, and then rose leisurely, brushing his sleeves before grabbing a great cloak from a nearby wooden rack and going to the outer chamber.

Liu Ying, timing it perfectly, entered the hall alone, carrying clean clothes, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

Zhao Yān gathered her long hair with both hands, circling to wrap on her chest binding, while lifting her arms to dress. She yawned slightly and said, “Prepare some menstrual pads for me. I might need them in the next few days.”

Liu Ying didn’t ask further. After fastening her clothes, she simply responded with “Yes.”

With the snowy roads being slippery, they couldn’t take sedan chairs. Moreover, today there was the headache-inducing literature assessment, requiring early preparation at Chongwen Hall.

With no time for breakfast, Zhao Yān hurriedly left the Eastern Palace after getting ready.

The ground was covered in thin snow like frost, breath turning to ice, with no sign of Wenren Lin anywhere.

Just as Zhao Yān thought Wenren Lin had left in anger, feeling a vague guilt, she spotted a dark figure standing by the side gate.

Zhang Cang had brought a carriage and was bowing with clasped hands, reporting something to Wenren Lin.

“No need to prepare a carriage. I will travel with Prince Su.”

Zhao Yān instructed Li Fu, while her eyes already held a faint smile. She stepped forward, bowed with her sleeves gathered to Wenren Lin, and said, “Thank you, Grand Tutor, for your tireless effort day and night, answering my questions.”

She was serious and seemingly respectful, giving no one reason to think otherwise. But Wenren Lin saw the mischievous and lively smile at the corners of her lips behind her gathered sleeves.

He stood with his hands behind his back, responding with equal ceremony: “With Your Highness’s cooperation, like mountains echoing valleys, it’s not difficult. If Your Highness doesn’t mind, you could join this prince at Chongwen Hall to continue discussing difficult problems.”

He emphasized the word “discussing” very lightly, with additional meaning.

Zhao Yān’s eyelashes trembled, but she smiled without changing her expression: “Very well, thank you, Grand Tutor.”

Wenren Lin made a “please” gesture with one hand, and Zhao Yān took the hand warmer offered by Liu Ying, tucked it into her sleeve, and boarded Wenren Lin’s carriage.

The carriage sank slightly, and Wenren Lin followed closely behind, raising his sleeve to sit beside Zhao Yān.

Zhao Yān sat properly, like the self-disciplined Crown Prince himself, until Zhang Cang handed in two oil paper-wrapped items with a grin and lowered the carriage curtain again. Only then did Zhao Yān let out a long breath and lean sideways against the carriage wall.

“I thought you had left early,” she said.

Wenren Lin removed his great cloak and casually replied, “I went to change clothes and had something to instruct my subordinates to do.”

“You changed clothes?”

Zhao Yān examined Wenren Lin again and saw that he had indeed changed into a regular dark red outfit underneath. Because he had been wearing his great cloak earlier, no one had noticed the change.

“Why didn’t you change this as well?” Zhao Yān pointed to the great cloak draped over his arm.

Wenren Lin lowered his gaze to look at it, his lips curving into an inscrutable smile: “After asking Your Highness to perfume it, this prince naturally wants to wear it again before changing.”

“When did I perfume it…?”

Zhao Yān remembered that last night, Wenren Lin had wrapped her in this great cloak after her bath. What was on it wasn’t any kind of perfume, but clearly her own…

Understanding this, Zhao Yān uncomfortably diverted her gaze, supporting her chin and muttering: “What a strange habit.”

Wenren Lin laughed, a shallow laugh contained in his chest, particularly low and enchanting.

Zhao Yān wrinkled her nose, smelling the hot aroma of breakfast food, and before long, she rather unceremoniously turned her gaze back. Covering her stomach, she looked at Wenren Lin: “Are you hungry?”

Wenren Lin saw through her little thoughts and leaned forward to unwrap one of the oil paper packages, revealing steaming hot crab roe pastries with a rich aroma.

Zhao Yān had planned to eat something simple at Chongwen Hall to fill her stomach, but now she couldn’t resist, instantly arousing her hunger.

She opened her mouth, and Wenren Lin picked up a piece and fed it to her, a casual action reminiscent of his elegance when feeding dried meat to cats.

Zhao Yān bit into the crab roe pastry, their eyes meeting, and with a warmth in her heart, said: “I can do it myself.”

Wenren Lin’s fingertips brushed lightly across her lips before he took a piece for himself.

The carriage started moving, the curtains swaying slightly with the rumbling of the wheels.

Daylight had fully broken. The morning light penetrated the icy mist, slanting down from behind the distant mountain ridge, draping the blue eaves, thin snow, and all things in the imperial city with a layer of golden gauze-like warm light. The icicles beneath the palace walls refracted dazzling light.

Zhao Yān, holding half a pastry, couldn’t help but lift the carriage window curtain slightly, facing the light and praising: “How magnificent the mountains and rivers are, how beautiful.”

Wenren Lin shifted his gaze, but instead of looking at the high walls and snow, he focused on her relaxed and beautiful face.

The light fell into her eyes, spreading layer by layer…

“Indeed, very beautiful,” he quietly gazed at her.

Outside Chongwen Hall, Pei Sa was surprised to see Zhao Yān and Wenren Lin arrive one after another.

He first bowed to Wenren Lin as a student would, then bowed with clasped hands to Zhao Yān, asking: “Did Your Highness and the Grand Tutor happen to meet on the way? How did you come together?”

This was the first time.

Zhao Yān nervously glanced at Wenren Lin, whispering: “Just happened to be going the same way.”

Pei Sa was about to ask more, but Zhao Yān noticed something amiss and changed the subject: “Shouldn’t Attendant Zhou be teaching literature at the Hour of the Dragon (7-9 AM)?”

Wenren Lin sat down leisurely on the tutor’s chair, saying casually: “He won’t be coming today.”

Just as Zhao Yān was about to ask “why,” the eunuch in charge of Chongwen Hall came forward with mincing steps and reported: “Prince Su, Crown Prince, Attendant Zhou just sent a message to the palace saying that one side of his carriage wheel broke on the way, hindering progress, and the examination papers were also soaked by snow. He cannot reach Chongwen Hall for some time. After changing clothes and rewriting the exam papers, he will come to apologize to Your Highness.”

What a coincidence!

Zhao Yān suddenly recalled the scene at the Eastern Palace gate where Zhang Cang had reported something to Wenren Lin, and she looked suspiciously at Wenren Lin.

The task he had instructed his subordinates to do wasn’t it?

“Since he cannot come, this prince can teach in his place.”

Wenren Lin looked up from his chair, reluctantly tapping the armrest. “Your Highness, please.”