An elderly man entered, wearing loose slippers, his robe hanging open, reeking of alcohol.

His white hair was disheveled, barely maintaining a topknot, and his entire body exuded the sour smell of stale liquor.

Second Prince Feng Qiting, seeing such behavior for the first time, uncharacteristically blurted out: “Who are you! How dare you drunkenly intrude into the princes’ study!”

When the accompanying page boy explained that this drunken old man was none other than Imperial Tutor Ge Danian, the princes exchanged bewildered glances, left speechless.

It was young Sixth Prince A’Ruo who recovered first, running over to respectfully bow to Imperial Tutor Danian.

After all the princes had paid their respects to their teacher, Old Ge waved his hand, pointing to the bookshelves: “All of you, read for a while. Later, I’ll have you draw lots for recitation. This old man needs… needs to sleep first…”

With that, he sprawled out on a nearby rattan chair and began snoring loudly.

The page boy, seemingly accustomed to this, fanned him for a while before closing his eyes and nodding off as well.

This was the imperial study for the sons of the Emperor—such an absurd scene had never before occurred in ancient times.

Amidst the pervasive smell of alcohol, the Second Prince struggled to control his expression as he forced himself to turn pages and read.

Third Prince Feng Qiwu, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief. He had never enjoyed reading, and if not for his father’s command, he would have preferred wrestling with common soldiers in the military camp.

This Imperial Tutor’s fondness for wine and lack of interest in troubling others was just fine with him!

The Sixth Prince maintained a composed expression. Despite his young age, he displayed the determination of a dedicated scholar, earnestly reading his book.

The Crown Prince, huddled at a desk in the corner, took a sheet of paper with ink and began drawing little opera stage figures, entertaining himself.

This harmonious lesson concluded amidst continuous snoring. Ge Danian never once opened his eyes, let alone tested their studies. He merely grumbled that the rattan chair in the study was uncomfortable before being helped back by his page boy to continue sleeping elsewhere.

The Second Prince had never witnessed such an outrageous and negligent teacher and spent the entire lesson holding his breath in frustration.

After class, he made an excuse to pay his respects to his father, visiting the Emperor’s palace and casually mentioning Old Ge’s drunkenness.

The Emperor, stretching his arms and legs while practicing the Five Animal Frolics exercise, asked impassively: “Have you come here expecting me to reprimand my elderly mentor for the sake of some unworthy descendants, committing a grave offense against the world?”

With that single sentence, the Second Prince retreated with his tail between his legs.

Later, Consort Shang also scolded the Second Prince for his rashness: “You are already past the age of beginning education, and your scholarship is the best among the princes. Whether Ge Danian applies himself or not, what concern is it of yours?”

After his mother’s scolding, the Second Prince suddenly understood: Thirty years ago during the Dinggen Rebellion, the Emperor at that time had been killed by treacherous officials, nearly changing the dynasty name of Dafeng.

The late Emperor had been a distant royal relative of the Dafeng imperial family, far removed from the throne. During that chaotic period, he raised the banner of supporting the Dafeng royal family and, with the backing of several wealthy gentry, suppressed the rebellion and inherited the throne.

His father, the current Emperor, had been merely a distant royal relative in his youth, growing up in rural fiefdoms, the least favored of the Imperial Grandfather’s children.

How exceptional could the tutor of an obscure royal relative be? But his father had proven himself capable, eventually standing out among the princes to inherit the late Emperor’s throne.

When one man attains the Way, even his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven—thus Ge Danian’s status rose with the tide, accidentally gaining the title of Imperial Tutor.

Reportedly, Ge Danian had lived in seclusion for many years, not out of lofty principles but as a school layabout, indulging in comfort and pleasure, addicted to alcohol, and accomplishing little.

Consort Shang had vaguely heard such rumors before but thought them unreliable. She hadn’t expected Ge Danian to truly behave this way.

It was said that Ge Danian had entered the palace this time because his wife was ill, and he had shamelessly relied on old connections to seek treatment from imperial physicians.

This being the case, His Majesty assigning such a drunkard as the Crown Prince’s mentor wasn’t about restoring favor to the Fourth Prince but merely a perfunctory gesture to show the world that His Majesty had fulfilled his fatherly duty!

Understanding this, Consort Shang immediately relaxed and stopped urging the Second Prince to attend the study.

Within a few days, the Third Prince also disappeared.

After all, the princes had never once encountered their Imperial Tutor sober; attending was a waste of time.

Empress Tang had also heard about Ge Danian’s conduct.

The Emperor’s first wife had died of illness years ago, and Tang had married the then-prince as his second wife.

By the time she entered the prince’s mansion, Ge Danian had already left his post, so Empress Tang was unclear about this Imperial Tutor’s scholarship. Now understanding the situation, she was unwilling to waste the Sixth Prince’s time and separately engaged a great scholar to teach him.

After a few more days, the desks and chairs in the study emptied, returning to the original state with only the Crown Prince remaining.

The Empress was deeply concerned about the Emperor’s perfunctory arrangement, suspecting he still intended to depose the Crown Prince.

But since Old Ge had been personally appointed by the Emperor to teach the Crown Prince, while others could be absent, the Crown Prince alone couldn’t miss lessons and give people cause for criticism.

Fortunately, Yan Xiaoying was clever enough; her impersonation of the Crown Prince sometimes confused even the Empress. The Empress decided to observe the situation quietly and endure for now, waiting until the real Crown Prince’s leg healed.

A fake Crown Prince paired with a drunken mentor—how perfectly matched!

Thus, the Empress didn’t bother with this matter either, just letting Xiaoying idle away her time in the study.

Princes were never allowed attendants during lessons, so there were no Empress’s spies. Xiaoying enjoyed brief moments of leisure amidst Ge Danian’s continuous snoring.

During her free time, under the pretense of drawing little figures, she would also engage in secret activities behind the shield of high-stacked books.

That day, when she had been blindfolded to see the Crown Prince, she still remembered all the turns and routes along the way.

In the palace where the Crown Prince resided, she had seen a cluster of strangely colored orchids and nothing else.

Following her memory, she roughly sketched out the route, planning to find an opportunity to explore.

Today, taking advantage of Old Ge’s hangover-induced absence, Yan Xiaoying glanced around the courtyard. In the cicada’s chirping, the guards were nodding off while leaning against the corridor, paying no attention to the study.

Timing the changing of the guards, she climbed out through the rear window of the study and tried to explore the route she had drawn. Familiar with the surrounding paths and being light on her feet, she crossed corridors, winding and turning until she reached a somewhat desolate outer wall.

Suspecting she had remembered incorrectly, Xiaoying was about to leave when a thin hand suddenly extended from behind, grabbing her collar and pulling her into a nearby dark alley.

Startled, Yan Xiaoying raised her hand to block, pushing the person away, only to discover that her assailant was a withered old eunuch.

The old eunuch staggered backward, raising his eyes from within wrinkles to examine her carefully, as if searching for traces of an old acquaintance on her face, and tentatively called out: “Xiaoying…”

The old eunuch’s speech was indistinct, as if he had a peach in his mouth. His mouth revealed only half a tongue root remaining, explaining why his speech was labored and difficult to understand clearly.

Xiaoying also tentatively responded: “Uncle Hai?”

Seeing the old man nod desperately, Xiaoying felt relieved. She had never met Uncle Hai, but when he called her by name and showed his half-severed tongue, she immediately guessed who he was.

This eunuch was named Sheng Hai. Years ago, he had offended someone important in the palace, getting his tongue cut and nearly losing his life. Yan Shan, being kind-hearted and having a casual acquaintance with Sheng Hai, had taken the opportunity while performing for nobles to plead for mercy when rewarded, thus saving Sheng Hai’s life.

From then on, the speech-impaired Sheng Hai was demoted to the cleaning quarters, following the night soil carts to clean chamber pots throughout the palace.

When Yan Shan had been tricked into the imperial villa years ago, destroying his family, besides grief and despair, he was puzzled about why the dignified Empress would trouble herself with an actor.

After escaping death, carrying his infant daughter, he had begged his way to the palace’s back gate, finally meeting Sheng Hai, who was transporting night soil carts out of the palace.

Sheng Hai loved watching opera and regarded the famous actor couple who had saved his life as divine beings in his heart.

Seeing his once-vigorous martial role benefactor emaciated and disheveled, wearing tattered clothes and holding a hungry, crying infant, and then hearing about all the bloody events of that night, Sheng Hai had embraced his benefactor and wept bitterly.

Later, Sheng Hai bought goat milk, finally allowing the hungry infant girl in his benefactor’s arms to eat her fill.

Although he was the lowest-ranking eunuch in the palace, he could communicate with servants in various cleaning quarters, and the news that passed his ears was quite current.

After the Empress’s full-moon celebration following childbirth, a banquet for the prince was to be held. Outside the Empress’s chambers, hiding in the bushes, he glimpsed the baby in the wet nurse’s arms, who looked exactly like his benefactor Lou Guan’er’s daughter, immediately understanding the situation.

Thereafter, every few months, Sheng Hai would take advantage of escorting the night soil carts out of the palace to entrust familiar shops with delivering “family letters,” using agreed-upon code to inform his benefactor whether the stolen son was safe.

And later, when the Crown Prince was released from confinement, although Empress Tang had killed the personal attendants of the Crown Prince in the Yiyuan Cold Palace, she had overlooked the old eunuch from the cleaning quarters who roamed the Cold Palace every dawn to collect chamber pots from Yiyuan.

After all, “mutes” like Uncle Hai with severed tongues were so lowly and insignificant that people overlooked them—what was there to guard against?

Uncle Hai, hearing that Xiaoying wanted to find the Crown Prince’s hiding place, waved his hand and struggled to mumble: “I saw the Crown Prince’s leg… suddenly healed, and guessed you had entered the palace… The security here is strict. Don’t let that poisonous woman conceive murderous thoughts toward your siblings… I’ll search; you must stay safe…”

Xiaoying, watching Uncle Hai speak with difficulty in jumbled tones, though not hearing clearly, roughly guessed his meaning. Knowing that Uncle Hai could move about more freely than she could, she didn’t delay, only holding his hand and saying: “When the time comes, you should leave with us.”

Uncle Hai didn’t speak. At his age, his broken life had already merged inseparably with the mottled palace walls, rendering him powerless to imagine the freedom he once longed for.

With the resignation of one who had tasted enough of life’s bitterness, the old man smiled at her, as if searching for traces of old friends in her face, then waved his hand, resuming his usual hunched posture, picked up his chamber pot, and slowly left the alley.

Xiaoying watched the old eunuch’s retreating figure with gratitude.

Initially, after receiving news that her brother had become lame and the people in the Cold Palace had been silenced, she had guessed that her brother, the Crown Prince, was in precarious circumstances. If he had no more utilitarian value, he would certainly become the Empress’s discarded chess piece.

However, the Empress’s execution of all the servants and palace maids who attended the Crown Prince in Yiyuan served to silence them and prevent news from leaking, suggesting she was unwilling to discard her chess piece so readily.

Human greed leads to desperate measures.

When her father and she were performing in Yicheng, they accidentally discovered Song Ao seeking medical help. Xiaoying had made a decisive move, planning each step carefully, deliberately dressing as a man to perform on the streets of Yicheng to attract Song Ao’s attention, finally entering the palace as desired.

Afterward, she acted according to circumstances, setting a fire at the birthday banquet to disrupt the Empress’s plans and forcing her to treat her brother’s leg.

Commoners, in the eyes of these nobles, were probably as insignificant as firefly lights.

What did it matter if they were as worthless as fireflies? Even tiny sparks could ignite towering flames and burn with passionate vengeance!

With these thoughts, she returned to the study along her original route, throwing the silk cloth with the drawn route into a nearby incense burner, turning it to ashes.

Recently, life had been peaceful, and the people Song Ao had sent to watch her had become somewhat lax, though they still followed her like shadows daily, unable to accompany her inside the study.

Although the Imperial Tutor was unreliable, the books in the study were genuine treasures.

While waiting for news from Uncle Hai, with nothing to do, Xiaoying occasionally took advantage of the teacher’s deep sleep to pick some interesting books to read when bored.

Today was the same. The old teacher entered the study, removed his shoes, lay across his seat, and began snoring loudly. Even the page boy had slipped away to enjoy the cool shade under trees in the courtyard.

Xiaoying lounged in her chair, watching outside the window for a while. Confirming no one was around, she casually pulled out a book on military law. Leaning against a pillar for cover, she sat on the floor and began reading with great interest.

Absorbed in her reading, she suddenly heard a voice from behind: “I never expected Your Highness to be interested in this type of book.”