As Feng Jing emerged from Funing Palace, she discovered Zhao Ai standing by the gate holding a scroll of official reports. Seeing her come out, he immediately bowed to her in greeting, presumably having come to find His Majesty. Seeing her previously inside the hall, he hadn’t entered immediately.

Feng Jing returned his bow and was about to leave when, after taking a few steps, she heard him say “Please wait.” She stopped and saw Zhao Ai approach, unrolling the official report in his hands.

“His Majesty previously adopted elder brother’s suggestion to have the Bureau of Astronomy conduct mathematics examinations for commoners, selecting a group of talented folk mathematicians. The official report contains the list of those accepted.” Zhao Ai showed her the list, then continued: “Previously, Bureau of Astronomy officials were mainly selected through recommendations. In the future, more and more will be selected through examinations like this. This group of talent will focus on astronomy and calendar calculations. According to elder brother’s vision, the Bureau of Construction, Imperial Academy, and Imperial University will also add similar examinations in the future to select more mathematical talent from among the people to oversee construction and participate in teaching.”

“That’s wonderful,” Feng Jing smiled. “The Crown Prince is wise, and His Majesty is enlightened. Continuing this way, our dynasty will produce generations of mathematical talent, surely benefiting the state and bringing merit for a thousand years.”

“Elder brother said it was your appearance that made him think of this.” After a pause, Zhao Ai suddenly asked: “Won’t you reconsider?”

This question startled Feng Jing, then she realized he must have heard what she said in the hall earlier, so she shook her head.

“Actually, we also studied mathematics at the palace school since childhood.” Zhao Ai seemed to start another topic, smiling as he told her: “We studied all the mathematical classics – ‘Nine Chapters,’ ‘Zhou Bi,’ ‘Sea Island,’ ‘Master Sun,’ ‘Five Bureaus,’ ‘Zhang Qiujian,’ ‘Xiahou Yang’ – but we treated it like a game then, learning while playing, not thinking it very important. I didn’t study very seriously and could only place second in examinations.”

Feng Jing smiled slightly and asked: “Then who could place first?”

Zhao Ai answered: “Elder brother.”

Faced with her subsequent silence, he bowed and cupped his hands, bidding farewell with proper etiquette, then entered Funing Palace. She stood there for a long while before coming to her senses and starting forward. The past events at Jifang Garden turned like pages in a book – the twenty-one count, the long vermillion corridors, reeds growing by the southern islet… So he had hidden his advantages to create an excuse to spend time with her.

She curved her lips as if to smile, but the sudden spreading heartache made her abandon that futile attempt, and in an instant tears streamed down her face.

When she saw the Crown Prince again, winter had already arrived.

That night, Feng Jing was walking along Jinyan Gallery back to the Royal Kitchen. Most of the long latticed windows on both sides of the corridor had been fitted with coverings to ward off wind and snow, though every two bays still left one lattice unclosed for ventilation and scenery viewing. Feng Jing carried a stack of “Taiping Shenghui Prescriptions” borrowed from Feng Xian, walking in the corridor shaded by the long windows, through the alternating bright and dim light and shadow cast by two rows of palace lanterns. Soon, her steps slowed slightly as she noticed a familiar figure ahead, robes fluttering, gradually approaching.

She steadied herself and continued walking straight ahead without looking aside, until they met face to face.

“Your Highness, ten thousand blessings,” she performed the proper ritual bow.

Zhao Xi returned the bow with a slight bend, looked at the books in her hands, and asked gently: “Do you need help?”

“Thank you, Your Highness, but there aren’t many books – I can carry them myself,” she answered with lowered brows.

“I thought you would say you’d reached the end and didn’t need help,” he smiled.

They were clearly in the middle section of the long corridor, so his words startled her, but these familiar words quickly led her to retrieve a nearly forgotten page of memory.

So the person she bumped into that day was him – it was him…

She couldn’t help but laugh in amazement, though with a touch of bitterness.

They both wore slight smiles, standing face to face, yet couldn’t find words to break the long silence.

Finally, she spoke first: “Your Highness, may I pose one more question?”

He nodded: “Please speak.”

She said: “There is a palace city, six li long and three li wide. Person A leaves from the east gate, riding a horse that can travel eighty li in one hour. Person B leaves from the west gate, riding a horse that can travel one hundred li in one hour. If Person A departs on horseback and Person B sets out half an hour later, traveling at the speeds described above, how long will it take for Person B to catch up to Person A?”

Zhao Xi wasn’t confused by the string of numbers and directly answered: “They’re going in different directions – he can’t catch up.”

Feng Jing smiled slightly: “Yes, neither of them will turn back. There’s no mutual pursuit, only each going their own way.”

Zhao Xi looked at her, temporarily saying nothing. At this moment, wind swept in from the unclosed window lattice beside them, bringing several fine snowflakes that fell on their brows and temples. The young eunuch who had been following far behind Zhao Xi immediately rushed over upon seeing this, pulling the long window shut and blocking out the drifting snow and the wind and moonlight beyond the vermillion corridors.

Feng Jing bowed to Zhao Xi again in curtsy, and Zhao Xi immediately returned a deep bow. Both wished each other “take care,” then Zhao Xi stepped aside to let her pass, allowing her to go in a different direction, crossing paths with him.

“Seven looms, mandarin ducks woven but then hesitation. Only fearing someone might lightly cut and trim, flying apart to two places, a scene of parting sorrow – what plan could bring reunion?”

Xiangli cheerfully plucked the pipa, singing this song without thought or care, causing her aunt Jiang Ningyan beside her to set down her embroidery frame and smile at Zhenzhen: “This silly child hasn’t learned the pipa or the song properly yet insists on showing off in front of you. Now she’s made a fool of herself, hasn’t she? Singing ‘Seven Looms’ so heartlessly – she’s probably the only one in all of Xianshao Courtyard who could do it.”

Zhenzhen also laughed, but said: “It’s fine. Singing cheerfully shows she’s in a good mood. There aren’t many happy people in the palace. Most of the girls I see daily either have furrowed brows or long faces. Those who love to laugh like her are really rare. However she sings, I’m happy to hear it.”

“Exactly! Sister Wu truly understands me,” Xiangli set down the pipa and bounded over to take Zhenzhen’s hand. “Pipa and singing aren’t my main talents. Since you rarely visit me, let me dance my best piece for you… Come with me, see which dance robe looks good.”

She led Zhenzhen to the inner room, opened the wardrobe, and showed her the exquisite, gorgeous, and dazzling dance robes in various colors inside.

This was Consort Ju’s former residence. Compared to the magnificence of Hibiscus Pavilion, it seemed much more serene. Though from the branches and leaves still remaining after clearing the courtyard, one could infer that this place once had flourishing flowers and fruits with spreading fragrant grasses, the buildings and inner rooms were all elegantly colored – ebony window lattices with white window gauze, mostly blue curtains and drapes, quite austere. The only exception was this wardrobe – opening it gave the feeling that all the colors in the room had been locked inside.

“I didn’t know you had so many beautiful clothes,” Zhenzhen stroked those gauze silks like smoke and clouds, sighing involuntarily.

“Actually, these all belonged to Consort Ju,” Xiangli laughed. “After opening the courtyard, we discovered many items she had used were still inside, including these dance robes. The Director of Xianshao Courtyard has already taken many away – these few were left for me.”

Speaking enthusiastically, she led Zhenzhen to the dressing table and opened a drawer to show her: “There’s also a whole cabinet of cosmetics here, most barely used. Though they can’t be used now after all this time, these rouge and powder boxes are all very beautiful – I can’t bear to throw them away.”

Those cosmetic boxes were made of gold, silver, lacquered wood, or plain wood, some carved with flowers and engraved patterns, some inlaid with pearls and mother-of-pearl, dazzling and beautiful to behold.

Zhenzhen picked up a powder box to admire and found it had three compartments inside – one for powder puffs, one for face powder, and the bottom layer contained no cosmetics but had a folded piece of paper.

Zhenzhen took out the paper and unfolded it. Several lines of flowing calligraphy like dragons and snakes immediately leaped into view, making Zhenzhen’s eyes blur, though she couldn’t recognize many characters.

This Consort Ju sounded like a peerless beauty – how could her handwriting be so wild and unrestrained? Zhenzhen thought, just preparing to set down the page when she heard Xiangli say from beside her: “Isn’t this the note paper used for prescriptions at the Hanlin Medical Academy?”

Zhenzhen was startled and looked again, indeed recognizing this as a prescription slip used by imperial physicians. Then she felt the handwriting looked somewhat familiar, similar to National Physician Zhang’s writing that His Majesty had shown everyone last time.

“Sister, what illness did Consort Ju have?” Xiangli asked curiously, clearly unable to read the characters either.

“Uh, this condition is somewhat complicated…” Zhenzhen considered, then asked: “Could you let me take this prescription slip away to ask a physician about it, and I’ll tell you next time?”

Xiangli readily agreed: “Sister, just let me know when you find out. Take both the slip and the powder box – no need to return them.”

Zhenzhen quickly went to the Hanlin Medical Academy and found Han Suwen, handing him the paper to interpret.

Han Suwen looked and immediately laughed: “Such wild cursive – this is clearly one of our physicians’ handwriting!”

He quickly deciphered the characters: “Robes granted in vain without granting favor, one perfuming later breaks the soul. Though dance sleeves, when did they ever dance? Always facing spring wind, wiping tear stains.”

After hearing this, Zhenzhen said in surprise: “So it wasn’t a prescription… It sounds like a love poem.”

“Ha! What love poem!” Han Suwen dismissed this. “Though we physicians aren’t wealthy or noble, if we want to write to a girl we like, we can afford to buy a few sheets of nice letter paper, can’t we? Using prescription slips to write to a girl – wouldn’t that be saying she’s sick?”

Zhenzhen couldn’t help but smile: “Then tell me what this poem means.”

Han Suwen lowered his head to read carefully, then said: “I think this was written to a girl who could dance. From the poem’s meaning, this girl received dance robes granted by His Majesty or some noble person. She treasured them, often perfuming the dance robes, but thinking that the person who gave her the clothes didn’t give her the favor she wanted made her very sad. Though she put on the dance robes, she didn’t dance but frequently used her sleeves to wipe away tears.”

“Then why was this poem written on a prescription slip?” Zhenzhen pressed.

Han Suwen thought about it: “Most likely this girl was so sad every day that she couldn’t eat or sleep. Her family saw this and thought she was seriously ill, so they went to find a physician for diagnosis. That physician understood immediately and threw this prescription at the girl, meaning: you have lovesickness – it needs treatment!”

Zhenzhen admired him and praised repeatedly: “Amazing! That sounds very reasonable. I didn’t expect someone so young to have such a bright mind and to have studied poetry and literature so well.”

Han Suwen proudly raised his head: “Of course! When I tested into the Hanlin Medical Academy, I was first place!” He then broke into a smile and said to Zhenzhen: “I’m also practicing wild cursive. Come, let me show you. Tell me afterward if I’ve practiced to the point where you can’t recognize it.”