Xiaoying bit into an apple while keeping watch on the neighboring courtyard, whispering, “I could teach you skills to reach the heavens, but you still couldn’t fight your way out of this deep palace alone. But if you have something here…” she tapped her temple, “that would be different!”

A’Yuan peered through his tangled hair with a cold gaze, seemingly thinking she was mocking him.

Did she think that when one is in a lowly position, if they can’t accept reality, they should read the philosophies of sages to numb themselves into contentment with their situation?

Seeing his disbelief, Xiaoying jumped down from the wall, crouched beside him, and flipped through a book, randomly pointing to a line.

“Look, this ‘One should not worry that others do not know him; one should worry that he does not know others’ is so well written! Just this line alone is enough to study for half a lifetime. If you had understood this early on, you wouldn’t have fallen for villains’ tricks and ended up trapped here. Fighting and killing are useless! Reading more books will keep your mind sharp. How do you know you won’t regain freedom someday? If that time comes and your mind is empty, how would you be any different from someone truly insane?”

A’Yuan remained silent for a moment, seemingly moved by Xiaoying’s words. Finally, he picked up the book and began reading quietly.

Xiaoying nodded with satisfaction—the child was teachable.

She currently had her hands full; her primary goal was to rescue her brother.

However, if she had the capacity and when the time was right, she wouldn’t hesitate to help this unfortunate young man as well.

If this young man could break free from his shackles and leave the palace to fend for himself, he could live a different kind of life.

After all, A’Yuan was quite sensible. He had never asked Xiaoying who she was, why she had good fighting skills, or why she frequently came to this courtyard.

The curiosity that normal people would have seemed to have seemed to have worn away during his ten years of imprisonment.

As long as Xiaoying appeared in this small courtyard every few days with food and books, and practiced a round of martial arts with him, he was satisfied.

Of course, he occasionally asked Xiaoying about trivial matters, such as the seasons or the year, and then would mark and correct the wall inside his room.

Xiaoying had seen that wall; every mark represented a day he had endured in this desolate palace.

Some had unique symbols, like certain days marked with orchids. Looking at the orchid pattern, it matched the “Snow-Soaked Orchid” in his courtyard.

Curious, Xiaoying asked what special days these were.

A’Yuan was silent for a moment, then said quietly: “The anniversary of my mother’s death…”

Xiaoying, somewhat familiar with his background, sighed slightly. Since the days in the abandoned palace were boring, she didn’t mind teaching him a few more martial arts moves to pass the time.

The guards were lazy and often absent from their posts, making it convenient for Xiaoying to come and go. The young man had a good memory and learned the remaining martial arts quickly, though he was somewhat impetuous and not yet proficient.

Xiaoying had no choice but to practice with him more each time, correcting his mistakes.

There were a few occasions when they got too close during practice, and Xiaoying was nauseated by his smell.

This wouldn’t do; the young man was too smelly! Xiaoying’s path of imparting knowledge was difficult to maintain, so she decided to make him wash.

So the next time she came, besides food and books, she also brought a paper cutter she had taken from Imperial Tutor Ge Danian.

A’Yuan was quite obedient. Before she arrived, he had already used collected rainwater to clean his body and hair, making himself surprisingly refreshed.

However, he didn’t have many clothes to change into. His clothes were being washed and hung to dry, so he wore pants but was bare-chested, revealing a muscular torso.

“Here, the knife isn’t sharp, so bear with me as I help you shave.” Xiaoying wasn’t bothered by his state of undress; she had seen more eye-searing sights in her adoptive father’s naval camp.

So she pulled A’Yuan to sit down, held his face, and began shaving his beard.

The knife wasn’t sharp, making the shaving process rather blunt and probably somewhat painful.

But A’Yuan seemed to feel nothing. He glanced at the paper cutter once, then lowered his gaze and sat still, intensely focusing on the youthful, delicate face before him…

Xiaoying felt uncomfortable being stared at by the man and flicked his forehead: “Close your eyes!”

Once A’Yuan obediently closed his eyes, Xiaoying continued her task. As the thick beard was shaved off, his facial features gradually emerged from the dense forest.

Finally, Xiaoying paused and couldn’t help but reach out to lift his chin, examining him carefully.

This A’Yuan looked… quite good!

After shaving his beard, he suddenly appeared younger, displaying the youth appropriate for a twenty-year-old man.

Tsk, tsk, his appearance—thick eyebrows extending to his temples, a straight nose like a mountain, smooth facial contours, deep, distinct eyes, and a high nose-all were of superior quality…

If Mu Hanjiang was the most striking handsome man in the capital, then the one before her was no less impressive, possessing a wild handsomeness different from refinement.

Xiaoying thoroughly enjoyed admiring the handsome man, but suddenly felt he looked familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere before.

Perhaps because Xiaoying hadn’t moved for a while, A’Yuan suddenly opened his eyes. His cold, profound gaze made his already wild face more striking, adding a hint of otherworldliness.

Fortunately, his strong, firm jaw diluted this otherworldly quality, giving him a maturity beyond his years.

And Xiaoying finally realized who he resembled.

If this handsome face were fatter, broader, with more wrinkles, more vicissitudes, and more steadiness, wouldn’t it somewhat resemble the middle-aged Emperor Chunde?

In the end, Xiaoying couldn’t help but cover her mouth to stifle her laughter, fearing she might disturb the neighboring courtyard.

The world’s supreme emperor, so devoted to state affairs and so focused on creating a balance of power among his sons, had allowed his backyard to become a mess.

Her frail brother, who had no blood relation to the emperor, was supported by the venomous Empress and became the Crown Prince.

The legitimate eldest son, who resembled his imperial father, was questioned about his bloodline due to his birth mother’s unspeakable past, framed, and left to fend for himself as a madman.

How could such an absurd family history not make her laugh out loud?

A’Yuan still showed no curiosity, expressionlessly staring at the flower-like smile and bright eyes of Xiaoying, his focused expression as if he were reading a profound and difficult book.

Having laughed and looked enough, Xiaoying waved her hand: “Go look at yourself in the water vat, see what you look like now.”

A’Yuan obediently went to the water vat, looked at his reflection, and then turned around to sit on the steps without any reaction.

Seeing his response, Xiaoying couldn’t help but remind him: “Do you know? You look very much like your imperial father.”

A’Yuan didn’t seem to understand that his resemblance to the emperor meant that the suspicions about his parentage were groundless!

He just continued silently fiddling with the various sizes of rat skins drying in the courtyard.

Xiaoying watched him, bored, wondering if this young man was preparing to sew himself a fur coat.

The weather was indeed turning cooler. When she came next time, she could bring him some warm clothes…

Just then, A’Yuan suddenly broke the silence and asked: “Do you… Know Master Ge?”

Xiaoying narrowed her eyes vigilantly: “Why would you ask that?”

A’Yuan pointed to the knife used to shave him. The paper cutter originally belonged to Master Ge and had a rice-grain-sized seal character “Nian” on the handle.

This young man had keen eyes to recognize even this.

Xiaoying had heard that when Ge Danian was in the countryside, besides teaching Emperor Chunde, he had also taught the children in the prince’s mansion for several years.

This A’Yuan must have been one of Master Ge’s students back then. However, Xiaoying had never heard Master Ge mention him.

But A’Yuan seemed to notice Xiaoying’s displeasure with this question and didn’t press further, changing the subject to ask: “When will you come again?”

This was a question he asked every time recently. Xiaoying looked up at the sun, knowing it was time for her to return.

She couldn’t schedule a time with him; each infiltration here depended on the circumstances, making it difficult to estimate when she could come next.

Compared to this loosely guarded courtyard, the neighboring one, separated by a dark water ditch, was heavily guarded with no lax patrol schedules.

If she tried to sneak in, she would certainly be discovered, let alone safely extract her lame brother.

Moreover, the Crown Prince’s value to the Empress had suddenly increased. Recently, the neighboring courtyard had been constantly supplied with medicinal brews. The medicinal herbs the Empress provided for her brother were all of excellent quality, scarce outside the palace.

It would be best if her brother could recover about seventy percent before leaving.

So, after confirming that her brother was temporarily safe, Xiaoying planned to wait for a while before coming again.

Each return increased the risk of exposure. Besides, A’Yuan was too perceptive, and she didn’t want to reveal too many identity clues in front of him.

So she packed up the rope and said: “Recently… I probably won’t be coming. Take good care of yourself!”

As she finished speaking and looked up to leave, she found that the Grand Prince A’Yuan had somehow come to stand before her.

Without the dirt covering his face, the young man’s expressions could no longer be hidden. Though his expression remained flat, his eyes conveyed an inexplicable desolation, somewhat similar to a dog about to be abandoned by its owner.

It seemed that her statement “I probably won’t be coming” had hurt him, making it difficult for A’Yuan to accept.

But it was understandable why A’Yuan reacted this way. After all, in these ten years, very few people had kept him company.

Xiaoying sighed inwardly, patted his shoulder, and comforted him: “Have you heard the story of the Great Sage being pressed under the Five-Finger Mountain? You’re just like Sun the Great Sage, temporarily trapped under the Five-Finger Mountain, waiting for a destined person to lift the seal. But the time isn’t right yet, so be patient, be good!”

She spoke sincerely. In the future, if she could rescue her brother, she wouldn’t mind saving one more person. But before then, they could only wait quietly.

After comforting him like a child, she peeked outside to ensure no one was around, then used the rope to climb over the wall and left.

A’Yuan stood motionless, watching the willow-like young man disappear over the wall. Then he walked to the water vat, looked down at his reflection, and suddenly gave a stiff, mocking smile: “Waiting… for a destined person?”

He slowly put away his smile, took out a piece of metal hidden in the brick crevice, dipped it in water on a stone, and began sharpening it stroke by stroke.

After it was sharpened, he turned to the broken bed in the inner room, where he had marked the passage of time with notches.

Calculating, it should be time…

Then, he lifted the tattered bedsheet, revealing a thick rope coiled in circles, made from woven rat skins.

He tested the skin rope, tied a stone to it, and threw it over the wall on the other side of Tianlu Palace. When the stone caught on a large tree outside the palace wall, he climbed up and over the wall with agility, leaving the palace and heading to the nearby Wenxing Hall.

He moved with practiced ease, clearly not his first time sneaking out this way.

When he arrived at the equally desolate Wenxing Hall not far away, he crouched before a weathered palace pillar.

In the middle of the pillar, there was a conspicuous cut mark. Who knows how many days and nights it had taken to chop halfway through, then stack stones, and cleverly secure them with rat skin ropes and wooden strips.

A’Yuan took the sharpened metal piece and continued to focus on grinding along the cut mark, with fine debris falling, a tedious and laborious task.

In the lonely, desolate palace, overgrown with weeds, a faint sound like a mouse gnawing came from the deep woods, barely audible.

…

As for Xiaoying, the process of sneaking back to the Eastern Palace had become second nature, and she returned through the window without hindrance.

The first thing she did was check the door bolt and peephole of the slightly ajar door.

Every time before leaving, she would pull out a hair and tie it across; if anyone pushed the door to look in, the hair would break.

Usually when she returned, the hair was always intact. The palace attendants were obedient; no one dared enter the room to disturb the Crown Prince’s afternoon rest.

After all, she had recently punished a small eunuch for intruding into the bedchamber, using the excuse of being startled from a nightmare. Everyone in the Eastern Palace knew of the prince’s quirk of disliking disturbances during afternoon rest.

The attentive palace maid Jian Hu, sent by the Empress, would steal and eat Xiaoying’s wine and dishes every noon.

Because Xiaoying always requested fine wine from the imperial kitchen, and Jian Hu loved to drink, she wouldn’t come to monitor the fake Crown Prince during his nap.

But today… the hair was broken! Not good, someone had entered the room!