Days always pass by particularly quickly.

As the weather grew colder, the students at Guangwen Hall began preparing for the month-end examinations.

Boys prepared for official careers, while girls showcased their talents to add value to their future marriage prospects, or to catch the eye of families of equal standing.

This was something that noble children inevitably had to do. Even a pampered girl like Feng Anning had begun studying diligently these days. There was no need to mention Shen Qing and Shen Yue, especially Shen Yue, who spent entire days in the east courtyard playing the zither and reciting poetry, hoping to make a grand impression once again.

Shen Qing and Shen Yue were both fifteen now, and according to custom, it was time for them to be matched with suitable families. In Ming Qi, girls could become engaged at fifteen and typically married at sixteen. The reason Shen Qing and Shen Yue remained unengaged was simply that they were too selective—ordinary matches were beneath them, while matches that were too high seemed somewhat presumptuous.

In the end, both families had, without prior agreement, set their sights on Prince Ding.

Among the late king’s nine sons, only the ninth, Prince Ding, remained unmarried. He was just over twenty years old, precisely the right age for marriage. However, due to various reasons, the position of his princess consort remained undecided. Like a fragrant cake, Prince Ding would also serve as an examiner at this month’s examination. Therefore, many young ladies were exerting all their efforts, hoping to make a good impression before Prince Ding, wishing that he would fall in love with them at first sight.

Shen Miao had no such thoughts.

In this second life, she remained a woman unfamiliar with romance. She couldn’t compose poetry or match rhymes, nor could she play the zither or dance. She certainly couldn’t stand on stage and discuss court politics. Moreover, she had no desire to be involved with Prince Ding again.

In her previous life, Prince Ding had used her Shen family, harmed her children, and massacred her entire clan. This blood debt would be settled sooner or later. Given such a blood feud, how could they become husband and wife?

Feng Anning asked her: “Why aren’t you studying? The end of the month is approaching. If you fall behind again, won’t people laugh their heads off?” After Shen Miao’s fall into the water, she had become much more reserved. Feng Anning had thought she had suddenly gained insight, but now it seemed she was no different from before—still that foolish and ignorant student.

Shen Miao said, “Since I won’t understand anyway, why waste time?”

Yi Peilan, who was listening from the side, burst into laughter and mocked: “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear—that’s all there is to it.”

Shen Yue was talking with Shen Qing and pretended not to hear the conversation, offering no defense. These days, Shen Miao no longer tried to please them as before, which had displeased them greatly. They simply couldn’t wait to see Shen Miao embarrass herself.

Shen Miao, however, seemed not to have heard Yi Peilan’s words at all. She stood up and said: “I’ll take a walk in the garden.”

After she left, Yi Peilan twisted her mouth and said: “She’s running away because she has nothing to say—truly as timid as a mouse.”

“Have you said enough?” Feng Anning frowned. “Are your studies that excellent?” She had always commanded some authority in Class Two and was pampered at home. Yi Peilan didn’t want to offend her, so she fell silent.

Meanwhile, Shen Miao arrived at the garden and walked slowly.

Guangwen Hall was a place of elegance; the garden was filled with lush woods and bamboo groves, ponds and rockeries, all built with delightful charm. Walking in, one could smell the fragrance of the forest, refreshing the spirit.

She simply wanted to be alone and quiet for a while. Class Two was full of impetuous children, while she, in her previous life, had even been a mother. As the Empress, most of her days were spent receiving the greetings of various consorts or staying alone in her Phoenix Palace. Accustomed to cold solitude and emptiness, she was truly too lazy to deal with a group of children’s clamor, whether it was ridicule or mockery.

None of it mattered to her anyway.

As she walked, she saw a snow-white rice ball appear before her.

The little ball, dressed in an ivory-colored satin robe, stood under the bamboo. The clothes should have been very beautiful, but due to his round figure, they appeared somewhat misshapen. And the little topknot on his head made him look rather comical and amusing.

“Su Minglang,” she said softly.

The little ball heard her and hurriedly turned around. Looking at Shen Miao, a trace of delight flashed in his eyes. He seemed to want to rush toward her but hesitated and stood still, looking at Shen Miao without speaking.

This child looked like a four or five-year-old baby. Shen Miao felt a bit of a headache. Could he be mistaking her for his mother?

Su Minglang looked at Shen Miao, pursed his lips as if wanting to say something, but said nothing. Then, his eyes reddened, and he softly murmured in a sweet voice: “I’m sorry…”

I’m sorry? Shen Miao was slightly startled. She watched as the little ball’s mouth drooped, looking so aggrieved that he seemed about to cry.

The next second, a lazy voice sounded.

“So it was you.”