First, about the wall-climbing incident.

That night, according to the wall-climber himself: the weather was lovely, the starlight brilliant, the flower fragrance pervasive, his feelings restless, the academy’s rule of lights-out at the second watch was inhumane, he who was accustomed to sleeping at the third watch couldn’t fall asleep, when he couldn’t sleep he easily wandered outside, then he saw a flower so beautiful he wanted to smell it, only he didn’t notice that flower just happened to be growing on Administrator’s courtyard wall. That’s all.

That night, according to the wall-climbing victim: there were no flowers on the wall.

That night, according to the hunter beneath the wall, Master Gu: darkness, rain, fourth watch, light-footwork technique.

Put together, the meaning was: in the pitch-black rainy fourth watch night, someone used light-footwork techniques attempting to climb over the flowerless wall of Administrator’s courtyard.

As for which version was more truthful—naturally no need to ask.

Actually, that night the wall-climber had only crossed halfway when he lowered his head and saw someone below raising their head. Behind the veil, eyes shone bright as the North Star. The main room window crashed open with a clatter. A person leaned out, dressed fully and properly, smiling warmly and gently, saying, “You’ve arrived.”

Crown Prince Helian, sitting on the wall with one leg inside and one leg outside, felt rather regretful—he’d originally thought that even if he couldn’t reach her room, with this midnight intrusion, Administrator might rush out improperly dressed, allowing him a good eyeful. Instead, she wore even more clothes than him.

Sitting on the damp wall, he greeted Administrator, “I’ve arrived.”

“Is the view from the wall good?”

“Good.”

“Have you admired it enough?”

Helian Zheng raised his head, looking around, saying, “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Feng Zhiwei closed the window. “Then just stay up there.”

Crown Prince Helian shook his head dismissively—this person was so unlovable. What face to maintain? What could make me stay up here? If Crown Prince me wants to leave, I’ll leave. If I want to stay, I’ll stay.

He wanted to climb down, but felt that climbing down in front of Gu Nanyi would be too face-losing. So he kicked with both legs, preparing to fly from the wall with the posture of an eagle or falcon.

Just at that instant when his legs spread and he was about to rise but hadn’t yet risen—

Young Master Gu suddenly raised his hand. Silver light flashed everywhere.

Helian Zheng immediately froze mid-air—

Countless slender silver needles, at the precise instant he raised his bottom, with extreme precision and skill, passed through his particularly wide pants’ crotch and pinned into the wall top.

Accurate, subtle, turning and shifting within a hair’s breadth—supreme hidden weapon technique… none of this made Helian Zheng break into cold sweat.

What made him sweat was that one silver needle passed straight through his most important part, pressed tightly against it—just short of sparking fire.

If Young Master Gu’s aim had been slightly off, the grassland eagle would have become a grassland hen from then on.

Helian Zheng froze. His flying motion still incomplete, with his body half-launched, those needles pinning his pants tugged, immediately turning his pants into strips of cloth.

Helian Zheng instantly covered his crotch with a “swoosh,” instinctively falling back onto the wall, attempting to use the wall’s wild grass to shield certain important parts exposed to the wind.

The wall beneath him suddenly moved.

Helian Zheng thought this was an illusion—he must be dizzy with anger. Then the trembling grew more intense. He saw Young Master Gu pull out a jade sword and, like cutting tofu, neatly sliced open the wall around him, lightly and skillfully hoisting it onto his shoulder.

The wall was built from stone strips filled with fine rice paste—very solid. Even with a section removed, it didn’t collapse. Young Master Gu shouldered that section of wall, with the noble Crown Prince Helian sitting astride it, and like stacking arhats, carried both person and wall all the way out.

As he walked, he blew the whistle.

Students immediately rushed out drowsily, lining up on both sides of the path.

Then they all began rubbing their eyes. Rubbing again and again. Rubbing again and again.

No matter how much they rubbed, the facts wouldn’t change.

The graceful Master Gu walked steadily, shouldering a section of wall. Atop the wall sat Crown Prince Helian with cloth strips fluttering in the wind.

The Crown Prince sat high on the shouldered wall, too busy to notice the crowd below staring up in amazement, frantically grabbing left and snatching right, gathering those scattered cloth strips back over important parts.

No helping it—this position was too high. When people looked up, they saw everything.

The crowd grew larger and larger. Helian Zheng, high on the wall, spotted the dodging Feng Hao and hastily called out, “Brother-in-law, toss me some pants—”

The brother-in-law who’d been hugging his thigh crying during the day vanished with a “swoosh.”

“Ptui!” Helian Zheng cursed hatefully. “You’re not even worthy of carrying your sister’s shoes!”

This wouldn’t do. Helian Zheng surveyed all around—wasn’t this parading through the streets? Where could a dignified crown prince put his face?

He hardened his resolve. So what if naked? Everyone’s a man—what’s there to fear?

Thus, he prepared to fly down from the wall regardless, using his best light-footwork to push through the encirclement.

But when he tried to implement the plan, he discovered those silver needles that had originally hooked his clothes had somehow disappeared, all dissolved beneath him into a pool of silver liquid substance. Very sticky—not only sticking to his thighs but also to key parts.

Helian Zheng now truly dared not move—if the person flew up but the bird was permanently left on the wall, that would be too devastating.

So he stayed obediently, carried by Gu Nanyi, walking the main road, crossing the plaza, high on the wall, amid ten thousand people, bathing in ten thousand gazes of admiration and glory, straight to the base of the Politics and History Institute tower.

“No way…” Helian Zheng, who’d admit defeat but not weakness, looked up at the tower, somewhat understanding Young Master Gu’s intention, greatly alarmed.

Young Master Gu had already calmly begun climbing the tower.

He climbed all the way to the tower top. There was a small platform. Young Master Gu set the wall on the platform, found two stones to prop it up, drew his sword, and with a few strokes wrote several characters on the wall surface beneath Helian Zheng. Then, without even glancing at Helian Zheng, he descended.

Helian Zheng shivered on the ten-zhang-high tower wall.

Like a black lotus flower unable to withstand the cool breeze’s shyness…

On the wall surface below, large characters stood sharp as drawn swords and crossbows:

“Wall-climbers shall be paraded for public display!”

Crown Prince Helian didn’t parade for long. Such a sensational incident quickly reached Head Xin’s ears. The Head personally returned from the compilation office to rescue the golden-rayed, auspicious Crown Prince.

The adhesive from the dissolved needles was nothing special—it would slowly fall off. Aside from leaving several of the Crown Prince’s hairs on the wall as permanent memorials, there was no other damage—Feng Zhiwei always acted with restraint, and even notifying Xin Ziyan to come rescue him was her arrangement.

Helian Zheng greatly regretted it. Had he known the stuff wasn’t so terrifying, he should have jumped down then. Now it was too late—the entire academy had admired his thighs.

The entire academy admiring them wasn’t much—but why hadn’t the one who should most admire them gotten to?

Crown Prince Helian felt quite regretful.

Even more regretful was that starting the next day, Administrator published student academy regulations exceeding ten thousand characters—one hundred eighty-eight articles total, thoroughly detailed. Among them, regulations like “no wall-climbing, no viewing scenery from walls, no leaving any bodily hair or objects on any academy property, violators fined one thousand taels silver” stood out prominently.

Thus, for those few hairs permanently left on the wall, Crown Prince Helian paid one thousand silver.

However, the paraded and fined Crown Prince Helian himself felt nothing much. Grassland men—even heaven-and-earth matters were just wind blowing through the Huzhuo Mountains, cleansed away in a blink.

Unable to climb walls, he obediently went to knock on Administrator’s door, carrying those one hundred eighty-eight regulations, having carefully verified that door-knocking wasn’t within the regulations’ punishment scope.

Feng Zhiwei calmly opened the door. That night’s events seemed never to have happened. Hearing Helian Zheng’s purpose, she frowned.

“Crown Prince.” She smiled. “Administrator Wei must attend Noble Consort’s birthday celebration.”

Implying naturally that Feng Zhiwei couldn’t attend.

“Administrator Wei fell ill from worrying over compilation work and academy management.” Crown Prince Helian brazenly squeezed past Feng Zhiwei’s side. When Feng Zhiwei turned back around, she saw he’d already seated himself comfortably on the beauty couch, removed his boots, and propped his big feet on the rare ancient texts Feng Zhiwei needed to organize and bring to the palace that evening.

Feng Zhiwei felt extremely furious but was completely unable to speak—she hastily rushed out to breathe fresh air.

The world’s number one Young Master Gu was overwhelmed a thousand miles away by that powerful, indescribable boot smell, whooshing onto the roof. He felt only the high place’s sweeping fierce wind could blow away that scent that had nearly suffocated him just now.

Helian Zheng lay comfortably on the beauty couch Feng Zhiwei had just occupied, burying his face in the soft bedding, rubbing back and forth, back and forth, intoxicatedly smelling that faint, elusive dark fragrance. He thought—this woman changes faces repeatedly, often dresses as a man, certainly couldn’t apply makeup and powder. Really didn’t know where this fragrance came from. Though grassland daughters were healthy and spirited, when it came to charm and grace, they truly couldn’t compare with Central Plains women…

Crown Prince Helian intoxicated himself in Feng Zhiwei’s fragrance, completely forgetting that a few days ago he’d expressed great contempt for Central Plains women.

When Feng Zhiwei returned after changing air, what she saw was Helian Zheng hugging her couch bedding, rubbing it every which way, turning the perfectly good soft satin surface into a mess. Nameless fire rose even higher. She said coldly, “Crown Prince, Administrator Wei isn’t ill and doesn’t need you arranging illness. If you don’t want to violate regulation one hundred eighty-nine or parade again, I advise you to leave early.”

“Ill.” Helian Zheng raised his head, very certain. “Just now, the Wei residence attendant already went to the compilation office to report Administrator Wei’s leave. The compilation office will also report to Senior Secretary Qiu tomorrow.”

“Even if I’m ‘ill,'” Feng Zhiwei remained silent for a long while, resolutely suppressing her anger and smiling, “Feng Zhiwei will also be ill.”

“Feng Zhiwei must go.” Helian Zheng seemed completely unaware someone was on the verge of explosion, shaking his boots enthusiastically. “Just now, I already confirmed with the Ministry of Rites that I’ll attend with my fiancée Feng Zhiwei. The list has probably already been submitted by the Ministry of Rites to the Cabinet for review.”

Feng Zhiwei said nothing, staring at Helian Zheng from the shadows, considering what method could silently eliminate this man.

“When you look at me like that, I find it quite stimulating.” Helian Zheng sat up, stroking his chin with interest, staring at Feng Zhiwei. “Like the particularly sinister crimson eagles on White Head Mountain in the Hulun Grasslands, lurking in the pitch-black mountain forests, suddenly shooting down from treetops to peck you once. Especially ruthless, especially sinister, especially thrilling—hey, give me that look again.”

The world has such invulnerable, impenetrable thick-skinned men!

Feng Zhiwei suddenly realized that actually Prince Chu was very reasonable, actually Young Master Gu was very gentle, actually all men in the world had lovable faces. Previously, her standards had truly been too high.

“Let me tell you, it’s best if Administrator Wei doesn’t go.” Helian Zheng suddenly dropped his playful expression. “With your current status, you’re very favored but also very dangerous. Palace celebration banquets—complex relationships on all sides. If you’re not careful, you might fall into someone’s trap. You should know, the more something everyone can’t get, if ultimately they can’t obtain it, others will destroy it.”

His Chinese couldn’t compare with those learned scholars—spoken somewhat disjointedly. But the meaning was very clear. Feng Zhiwei listened, shuddering in alarm, realizing she’d previously somewhat misjudged him.

First meeting—tapping and shattering the young lady’s carriage glass window, she’d found him reckless and domineering. Second meeting—entering the Golden Hall carrying a corpse, disemboweling it below the jade steps to extract organs, she’d found him ruthless and decisive. Third meeting—at the Qiu residence proposing marriage, Third Falcon fighting to the death for him, he magnanimously conceding defeat for Third Falcon, calling “Little Auntie” readily, swallowing a package of salt without protest—she’d found him skilled at commanding men with a great general’s bearing. When he pursued to the academy, climbing walls at midnight then parading publicly, he’d merely laughed it off—she’d found him worthy of a grassland man’s spirit. Combined—a magnificent, broad-spirited grassland man, flexible and unyielding, a heaven-soaring man. She hadn’t expected he also understood these Han court power struggle schemes, understood these calculations of human hearts and machinations.

Seeing her somewhat surprised gaze, Helian Zheng smiled. This smile revealed a trace of bitterness for the first time, then he said quietly, “On the grasslands… there are also power struggles…”

Feng Zhiwei remained silent, thinking power schemes and intrigues were indeed equally prevalent everywhere.

Both fell into silence. The indoor atmosphere quieted. Summer wind crossed the half-open lattice window, raising Helian Zheng’s black hair as he lay on the couch. Beneath the black hair, those eyes in the moonlight grew even more brilliant like glass—pure amber and mysterious deep purple interweaving. Even moonlight lost its color.

His half-open collar partially revealed his light honey-colored skin and lustrous chest. His lazy posture curled on the short beauty couch was like a large, gentle cat with claws hidden.

Full of masculine allure, wild and intoxicating.

Feng Zhiwei felt somewhat uncomfortable and turned her gaze away, hearing Helian Zheng speak with a hint of pleading, “Come with me… Once the list is submitted, it can’t be changed. You surely don’t want Miss Feng drawing palace attention again?”

How clever! Feng Zhiwei glared at him hatefully. Though his tone was pleading, his expression couldn’t hide some smugness. Her heart grew even more depressed.

That glare—her eyes rippling, lips unconsciously pouting slightly, changing from her usual composed, elegant aura. Her gaze held several degrees of coquettish sweetness. Seeing this made Helian Zheng’s heart surge, eyes stare. He couldn’t help joyfully rushing over, grabbing her hand, saying, “Little Auntie, on our grasslands there’s a pre-wedding tent-sharing custom—shall we try it—”

“Crack!”

“Bang!”

The first sound was Helian Zheng being grabbed and thrown out by Young Master Gu.

The second sound was his boots being thrown out, hitting his head, then flying far across the courtyard into the outer courtyard pond.

Three days later, all the fish in the pond floated belly-up on the water surface. Reportedly they’d been fumigated to death…

Two days later, Noble Consort’s fiftieth birthday—as the Empress’s cousin, after the Empress’s passing, Noble Consort alone wielded palace power. For many years, she’d been the palace’s most powerful woman. Though her prime had passed, her favor hadn’t declined. The Emperor still gave considerable face to this woman who’d accompanied him most of his life. For her fiftieth birthday, the palace held extremely grand celebrations.

The formal banquet was an evening feast, but they had to enter the palace early in the morning to pay respects. Morning for imperial family members, afternoon for titled ladies of rank and other guests, midday eating longevity noodles at Longqing Hall. Male and female guests were separated except for the evening banquet together. Hearing the dense schedule, Feng Zhiwei felt she’d boarded a pirate ship—truly a miscalculation.

Rising early to dress and groom, Helian Zheng had sent clothing and accessories early—not their Huzhuo tribal ethnic costume, but extremely expensive Jianghuai silk skirts. The palest, palest water-blue, becoming snow-white at skirt hem and sleeve edges. Like crossing sunlight over the vast sea to see the lightest blue where distant sea and sky met, white wave-flowers foaming all around. Pure and distant. The dress cut was simple, but all minute decorative details were meticulously refined. The waistband embroidery was the Imperial Capital’s finest “Weaving Glory,” the jewelry a complete set of precious sea pearls, even the collar’s hidden buttons were extremely rare South Sea pearl shells, complementing the garment’s colors perfectly, completely integrated.

Young women naturally loved beautiful clothes. Feng Zhiwei’s stern face slightly relaxed. Stroking the soft fabric, she thought—Helian Zheng, that barbarian, unexpectedly had excellent taste in women’s clothing.

Outside the door, sudden sounds. Turning back, Madam Feng leaned against the doorway, gazing at her with complex eyes.

Feng Zhiwei froze. This was mother and daughter’s first meeting since the marriage proposal incident. Both felt somewhat uncomfortable for a moment. After a long while, Feng Zhiwei coughed lightly, asking, “Is something wrong?”

Madam Feng carefully watched her daughter standing in the wind. Clear morning sunlight, bright and pure, made the pale blue garment shift beautifully like the sea. Pearl shells gleamed with lustrous light, setting off an incomparably pure, refined temperament. Her posture with half her face in fragmented light and shadow held a kind of noble serenity that made one look up. Outstanding grace usually hidden by coarse clothes and plain appearance was suddenly awakened this morning.

Madam Feng’s heart ached slightly… Her Zhiwei should always have had such outstanding grace.

“I came to tell you…” The averted gaze from Zhiwei across from her made Madam Feng’s heart feel lightly pricked by a needle. She hastily changed topics. “Your brother has already entered Qingming Academy to study.”

Not to study—to become someone’s servant. Feng Zhiwei laughed coldly inwardly, nodding lightly to indicate she knew.

“Zhiwei.” Madam Feng watched her indifferent expression, hesitating for a long while. “That day I didn’t agree to send him to Shounan Mountain to study because…”

Feng Zhiwei turned back, waiting for her explanation.

This was her mother who’d accompanied her over ten years. Any time, she was willing to give her a chance to explain.

However, Madam Feng opened her mouth. A trace of pain difficult for others to detect flashed through her eyes, but ultimately she didn’t speak.

Feng Zhiwei smiled self-mockingly.

Not saying disappointed, because she’d been disappointed too many times already.

“I know about this matter. Do you have any other instructions?” She asked more politely than before.

Madam Feng pressed her lips, hesitating before saying, “Nothing much. Just if you enter the palace and encounter Nanny Chen beside Princess Shaoning, remember to give my regards. We haven’t seen each other in many years—I miss her very much.”

Feng Zhiwei frowned. She didn’t want to see Shaoning.

“With my status,” she said politely, “it’s not easy to speak privately with the Princess. However, if I see her, I’ll certainly convey your regards. Is this Nanny Chen a former friend of yours?”

“No… yes.” Madam Feng seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly answering “no,” then immediately waking and changing her answer. Feng Zhiwei gazed at her with furrowed brows. Madam Feng suddenly showed a trace of panic, hastily saying, “Hao’er’s clothes aren’t finished yet. I’m leaving.”

Feng Zhiwei watched her hurried departing back, feeling that this half year, Mother seemed to have aged more. That back was slightly hunched, as if pressed by countless worries.

She sighed slightly, not wanting to think more.

“What are you spacing out about?” Behind her, someone asked with a laugh—a familiar tone.

Feng Zhiwei turned back. Helian Zheng stood in the doorway sunlight. Today he hadn’t worn grassland royal formal attire but Tiansheng noble male clothing—the same pale blue long robe as hers, bound with a deep blue jade crown. Graceful and brilliant, radiantly glowing like a movable massive gemstone.

Seeing her, Helian Zheng froze for an instant, a trace of amazement flashing through his eyes, then smiled, “Well, well, didn’t know you could dress up so well.”

Feng Zhiwei touched her yellow face and drooping brows—are you blind? Don’t you see your auntie’s “exceptional” appearance?

Helian Zheng smiled broadly on his own, examining Feng Zhiwei up and down. He didn’t find yellow-faced, drooping-browed Feng Zhiwei unattractive at all. In his eyes, yellow face? That was lustrous as gold! Drooping brows? That was naturally auspicious features! Regardless what others said, he felt his yellow-faced auntie was charming, so charming.

“Let’s go.” Helian Zheng came to take her hand.

Feng Zhiwei’s body flashed aside, avoiding him.

“Crown Prince, I need to say this first.” She said lightly, “You acted first and reported later in this matter. Today, for you and me, I must attend the palace banquet in this identity. But let’s be clear—this doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to you, and there absolutely won’t be a second time.”

Helian Zheng tilted his head, looking at her, smiling, “Know it, know it. You Central Plains women value status most. Didn’t you see I wrote ‘fiancée’ on the list? If I truly didn’t respect you, I should have written ‘Crown Prince Consort’ early on.”

“I don’t like mutton, and I’m even less interested in serving ten mistresses.” Feng Zhiwei smiled lightly. “Compared to being one of the grassland king’s many concubines, I’d rather be mistress of an ordinary Imperial Capital household.”

“Perhaps you can conquer me further, making me willingly break grassland royal custom to have only you as principal consort.” Helian Zheng gripped his knees with both hands, eyes shining as he looked at her. “Beauty, apply yourself more to me.”

“Great King, certainly.” Feng Zhiwei smiled, walking ahead. “When you’ve conquered me sufficiently.”

Helian Zheng stood in place, looking back at that woman’s slender yet resolute back. His gemstone eyes held even deeper interest—clearly these words sounded arrogant, yet spoken from her mouth, they held a weight one dared not take lightly.

Her frail body seemed to contain vastness and strength surpassing ordinary people, gleaming in the darkness.

Boarding the carriage Helian Zheng arranged, two little maids obediently came forward to attend. Feng Zhiwei learned her lesson—today she didn’t dare bring Maid Yiyi in disguise. For this, she’d peeled several pounds of little walnuts to console her Yiyi.

Young Master Gu ate many walnuts daily, but always in batches. Each time, absolutely only eight. Like his meat-eating habit, after eating eight, he’d eat eight more later. Daily quantity absolutely multiples of eight.

To please her Maid Yiyi, Feng Zhiwei separated the little walnuts by quantity—small bags hung at Young Master Gu’s waist. Thus, Qingming Academy students only needed to hear walnuts colliding to know the veiled maniac Master Gu had arrived.

After half an hour, the carriage stopped before the palace gates. Inner palace maids came to receive Feng Zhiwei onto a small palanquin toward the inner palace. Helian Zheng would be led by inner attendants toward the outer court.

Before the carriage fully stopped, Helian Zheng hastily dismounted, quickly rushing before the carriage extending his hand. This action made officials and inner attendants coming and going all stop to watch, wondering which family’s woman made the usually domineering, willful Crown Prince so attentive.

The carriage curtain lifted. A hand extended out—snow-white, slender, exquisite, jade-like carved. Illuminated by sunlight, it seemed delicately transparent. The slender fingers wore no decoration except one deep blue enormous sea pearl—deeply, subtly lustrous, making that hand appear even more pure white and refined.

“Beautiful! Soft fingers!” A Hanlin Academy palace graduate shook his head, sighing.

After the jade hand came a pale blue sleeve—extremely pale blue, a rarely-seen color. Elegant and distant, like the calm sea surface foaming with snow-colored bubbles after sunrise. No excess decorative ribbons or jeweled ornaments. Simple yet noble.

“Beautiful! Splendid garments!” A Spring Declaration Hall scholar shook his head, sighing.

Everyone’s gazes were attracted. Before the palace gates, there was a moment of quiet.

Several horses galloped over, stopping before the palace gates. No one noticed.

Helian Zheng’s eyes sparkled brilliantly, lips curved in a smile, taking that wonderful hand. Everyone unconsciously sighed with emotion.

The person in the carriage leaned out—an extremely slender, exquisite figure. Lines refined as the most beautiful form of beauty goblet, not disappointing like that jade hand.

“Beautiful! Wonderful figure!” Passing Second Secretary Hu the Grand Scholar stopped, standing beside the Hanlin Academy palace graduate and Spring Declaration Hall scholar, shaking his head together.

Everyone again sighed with unclear meaning.

Helian Zheng looked extremely proud.

The beauty, supported by Helian Zheng, gracefully descended from the carriage. Everyone watched, feeling even her steps were especially nimble and light, charm extremely fine.

Then the beauty raised her head.

“Ah, oh—”

—First was a surprised “ah,” then realizing impropriety, quickly switching to a perfunctory “oh.”

“Alas! Appearance!” The three elders devoted to pursuing beautiful things departed with a flourish of sleeves.

Everyone exchanged glances.

Such beautiful grace—how could the little face be pale yellow, brow tips slightly drooping, a completely ruined household appearance?

Regrettable, ah regretful. Wasteful, ah wasteful.

Helian Zheng was completely unaffected, still as if supporting a treasure, personally holding Feng Zhiwei’s sleeve, seeing her to the inner palace palanquin location.

Feng Zhiwei had long heard everyone’s reactions in her ears, but only smiled lightly—worldly people were foolish, unable to distinguish beauty from ugliness. How many could be like Helian Zheng, uncontrolled by superficial appearance?

Just after walking a few steps, she suddenly felt a spine-pricking sensation from behind.

Turning back, she saw not far away Ning Yi in royal robes and golden crown, hands clasped behind his back, gazing over lightly.

His gaze didn’t fall on her body but on Helian Zheng’s hand supporting her. For that instant, Feng Zhiwei had a slight illusion—that gaze seemed a bit too sharp, like a knife.

When she turned back, Ning Yi’s gaze drifted away, landing on empty space. Feng Zhiwei smiled, turning away.

Taking the palanquin to the palace, first learning etiquette in a side hall, then following in line to pay respects to Noble Consort. The Noble Consort was graceful and magnificent, dignified in appearance, looking only about forty years old. Just beneath thick makeup powder, fatigue at brow tips and eye corners couldn’t be hidden. Presumably, maintaining control in this palace for over ten years without falling was also quite energy-consuming.

“This is Miss Feng?” Feng Zhiwei stood at the very end. Noble Consort somehow saw her, smilingly beckoning her forward.

Feng Zhiwei lowered her head, sighing resentfully, then raised it wearing a face full of warm smiles. Using the best etiquette just learned this morning, with lotus steps gracefully proceeding, she immediately felt gazes from all around shooting over with various meanings.

Noble Consort smiled as she approached. Finding this woman’s etiquette excellent and temperament very good, she suddenly saw her face clearly and froze. But such palace nobles had long practiced deep composure, immediately returning to normal. She took Feng Zhiwei’s hand, caring for her with a few words, expressing respect and attention for Crown Prince Huzhuo before releasing her. Then she arranged for everyone to eat longevity noodles in the side hall, separately summoning aged, titled ladies of rank to the inner hall to talk. With Feng Zhiwei’s status, naturally she wasn’t among them. She could only sit languidly in the side hall.

During this time, she saw Princess Shaoning enter in beautiful makeup and splendid clothing. Noble Consort’s palace maids immediately greeted her with smiles upon seeing her—apparently very familiar. Feng Zhiwei recalled that Princess Shaoning was born to the Empress. Noble Consort was her aunt.

She sat there eating noodles, thinking about the two little monkeys in the brush holder beside Noble Consort’s seat during the earlier visit. Presumably, they were the brush monkeys Fifth Prince had displayed that day. Just didn’t know if it was dim interior lighting or what, but those monkeys’ originally brilliantly golden fur color seemed to have dimmed slightly.

While she pondered here, others examined her—examining her magnificently refined clothing, examining her jewelry worth ten thousand gold, then examining her face again and again. Their gazes were heavy, carrying mocking force.

Feng Zhiwei completely ignored them—gazes couldn’t kill people. Only power could.

“Is this Miss Feng?” Someone still couldn’t help it, sitting close with a smile. “Quite unfamiliar.”

Feng Zhiwei glanced at this woman adorned with jewels and jade—seemed like some duke’s residence’s young lady? Not interested in remembering clearly.

She smiled slightly, nodding. Her chopsticks didn’t stop, indicating she was very serious about eating noodles.

Seeing her not answer, the woman’s face couldn’t hold up. She snorted coldly. Another woman who’d come with her immediately said, “Naturally unfamiliar. Miss Feng at the Qiu residence probably doesn’t have many chances to enter the palace?”

“That’s right.” Someone leaned over, laughing quietly. “With that Qiu eldest mistress there, Miss Feng wanting to enter the palace probably isn’t so easy.”

Feng Zhiwei glanced at her. That woman, meeting her gaze, immediately shrank. Her smile froze on her face. Then she saw Feng Zhiwei move her noodle bowl aside slightly, saying lightly, “This elder sister, please laugh more quietly. The powder from your face has fallen into my noodle bowl.”

“You—” That woman gaped wordlessly. A beautiful face instantly turned iron-blue.

“Young ladies, please conduct yourselves properly!” A steady female voice suddenly came. Everyone looked up to see a middle-aged nanny standing at the hall door—they didn’t know when she’d appeared. In sky-blue palace dress, dignified bearing, she looked at those few troublemaking noble young ladies, saying solemnly, “The palace is not a place to gossip about people. Young ladies, please stop.”

The hall quieted. That nanny stepped forward, looked at Feng Zhiwei. A trace of amusement flashed through her eyes. She suddenly turned toward the hall’s several dozen people, calmly saying, “The Qiu family’s eldest mistress is our Tiansheng Dynasty’s foremost woman hero. When our Tiansheng hadn’t yet been founded, under His Majesty, General Yin Zhiliang treacherously defected during the Tianshui Pass battle, causing our army’s devastating defeat. Afterward, at the Tiger Wilderness Slope battle, tens of thousands died. Old General Qiu Zhen died in battle. The grand army retreated dozens of miles. Yin Zhiliang took the opportunity to propose dividing the realm equally with our dynasty, using Tianshui Pass as the national border for territorial autonomy. At that time, after consecutive defeats, generals lost courage. His Majesty also leaned toward yielding. Only the Qiu family’s eldest mistress didn’t retreat from battle. She removed her father’s armor from his corpse, donned it herself, and fought—winning one battle to defeat the rebel army. After three battles, she pushed back Yin’s forces hundreds of miles. Later, as a woman, she was appointed Marshal, established the Fire Phoenix Army, commanded one hundred thousand Tiger Battalion troops, driving Yin Zhiliang straight out of the Central Plains heartland. Ultimately, he established the nation Xi Liang, from then on relegated to that barbaric land, never again able to contend with our dynasty for the realm—such a figure making all women in the world proud, such illustrious nation-stabilizing, state-securing achievements—are they something you young ladies who enjoy fathers’ remaining favor, spend whole days embroidering in inner chambers, idly nitpicking jealousies, can casually criticize?”

These words spoken sharply and resoundingly, the entire hall fell silent as crows and sparrows. Feng Zhiwei listened, her gaze flashing—she only knew Mother’s past experiences were extraordinary but didn’t know the details. This was the first time hearing Mother’s deeds so clearly. This nanny apparently knew past events very clearly. Looking at her tone and expression, then at these proud young women’s submissive manner, presumably she wasn’t an ordinary palace attendant either.

Probably the nanny beside Princess Shaoning that Mother hoped she’d greet. She vaguely remembered this nanny was Princess Shaoning’s wet nurse who’d attended her since childhood. With Shaoning’s lofty palace status, this nanny naturally received people’s respect.

“Thank you, Nanny.” Feng Zhiwei stood up, bowing respectfully.

Just as she stood, beside her, that woman who’d caused trouble earlier suddenly tilted her body. Then with a “crash,” the noodle bowl before Feng Zhiwei was knocked over. Noodle soup immediately drenched Feng Zhiwei’s skirt.

Before Feng Zhiwei could react, that woman had already jumped up with a startled cry, gaping at the dripping table—what just happened? Why did her waist suddenly weaken, then tilt down and hit someone’s bowl?

Nanny Chen had stepped forward—she’d been planning to apologize to this Miss Feng, also selling a favor before the Nanny. How did this happen?

The woman’s face turned blue and yellow, frozen in place. Feng Zhiwei had already pitifully held her soiled skirt, saying with a tearful voice, “This elder sister, where did little sister offend you? Doing this—how can I… how can I…” She trembled all over with anger, seemingly unable to speak.

Palace attendants in the hall all looked disapprovingly at those young women. Someone hastily went to the main hall to report. The “troublemaking” woman froze for a long while. Seeing Feng Zhiwei’s infinitely aggrieved, tear-brimming appearance, she suddenly burst into even more aggrieved tears with a “wuu.”

When she cried, Feng Zhiwei stopped crying, immediately saying seriously, “What place is this? What time is this? Her Ladyship’s birthday—you actually cry in the hall?”

“Someone, please escort these young ladies home to cry slowly!” Noble Consort’s palace’s head nanny arrived. Seeing this situation, fury immediately rose to her brows. Without another word, she drove them all out.

Feng Zhiwei stood smiling in place, pitifully holding her skirt, sighing. That Nanny Chen looked at her, eyes holding appreciative amusement, slowly saying, “Miss Feng, I have some old garments there quite suitable for you. If you don’t mind, why not go change, lest tonight’s birthday banquet be improper.”

Feng Zhiwei had been waiting for precisely this sentence. She immediately thanked her, following Nanny Chen out of the hall. All along the way, Nanny Chen ahead never looked back, back ramrod straight. Feng Zhiwei watched her back, thinking this nanny was like someone from military background—full of capable energy.

Entering Princess’s Yuming Palace, changing clothes in a side courtyard’s side room, Feng Zhiwei bowed, “Mother asked Zhiwei to give greetings to Nanny, thanking Nanny for speaking up for Mother just now.”

“I’ve finally seen you.” Nanny Chen, reversing her earlier indifference, grasped Feng Zhiwei’s hand, looking carefully. Her gaze lingered on the painted drooping brows, then nodded. “Are you and your mother well?”

Feng Zhiwei thought—clearly Mother’s friend, yet this nanny seemed more concerned about herself? Hearing her carefully ask about Madam Feng’s circumstances, also asking about herself and her brother, she answered everything. Nanny Chen listened carefully, patted her hand, saying, “Go back and tell your mother these years have been hard on her. Please, she shouldn’t have too many worries. Let everything follow heaven’s will.”

Looking deeply at her again, expression wistful nearly sighing, “You’re very good.”

Feng Zhiwei felt both sentences strange no matter how she heard them, but smiled and agreed. She also declined Nanny Chen’s kind offer to take her back to Noble Consort, saying sitting in the hall now would also be stifling. She’d just sit in the front imperial garden before going. Nanny Chen didn’t insist, letting her go.

Feng Zhiwei sat in the imperial garden for a while. Tiansheng’s rear palace imperial garden was extremely large. Gradually, she walked deep inside. Passing several artificial mountains, she suddenly saw a well behind the mountains—somewhat strange.

She sat on the well edge, slowly feeling around the surrounding bluestone—some traces from years and ages on it.

After pondering a while, seeing no one around—this place was already extremely secluded with few visitors—she grabbed the well edge and climbed down.

Descending to one person’s height, her toe kicked, indeed kicking a certain depression. She applied slight force at that depression. The well wall’s bluestone moved, revealing a doorway.

A slightly musty smell drifted out. Feng Zhiwei carefully smelled—no abnormalities.

Throughout dynasties, palaces inevitably had tunnels. When peaceful eras lasted too long, some tunnels gradually lost function, disappearing unknown. Perhaps this tunnel was the same. Feng Zhiwei didn’t plan to rashly enter just like this—who knew where that end was? What if it was Noble Consort’s main hall? What if it was under the Emperor’s throne? She hadn’t lived enough yet!

However, the sky suddenly darkened. With a crash, rain began falling in a blink.

Feng Zhiwei cursed her bad luck inwardly. Looking around, the nearest pavilion was several dozen zhang away. By the time she ran there, her clothes would be soaked. Lowering her head to see that tunnel was fairly clean—better to go in and avoid the rain first.

She slowly walked in. The tunnel was long but narrow. Didn’t feel like it was for any important purpose. All around, earth scent slowly permeated. Feng Zhiwei instinctively felt no one had passed through here for many years.

After walking a while, daylight gradually brightened ahead. Feng Zhiwei was quite surprised—could that end not be sealed? Not afraid of discovery? Listening carefully—aside from faint rain sounds, no other sounds. Could confirm it wasn’t the bustling Noble Consort’s palace or palace main halls.

She took another step. Suddenly, her vision opened brilliantly. Amid a spray of crystalline light, a strangely-adorned beautiful woman came toward her.

Her collar raised, brows and eyes serene, slightly leaning forward as she walked. Silk ribbons flew like an immortal palace person.

Feng Zhiwei stopped in shock, unable to understand how there could be someone here facing the doorway. Instinctively wanting to flee, yet feeling something wasn’t right. Turning back to look carefully several times, stepping forward a few steps, she finally discovered that woman was completely semi-transparent. Her smiling brows, eyes, and graceful figure motionless—actually a crystal jade statue embedded in the wall.

Just the carving craftsmanship was godly. Even long hair and silk ribbons vividly carved with flowing, flying feeling. Being in this dark tunnel just emerging, amid confusing light and shadows all around—very easy to misjudge.

This statue was priceless, yet placed at this tunnel exit—looked truly somewhat eerie.

Feng Zhiwei stepped forward. Behind the beauty statue was a large, whole piece of crystal. Outside scenery hazily visible. Through that crystal screen, flowers and trees could be seen, arched bridges and flowing water. One corner of flying eaves extended, hanging blackened golden bells. Appeared to be palace rooms. Just all scenery revealed decaying, aged atmosphere.

At this time, the tunnel was silent. Couldn’t hear outside rain sounds, yet those dense rain threads clearly reflected on the glass-like transparent crystal, through the rain threads, directly facing a small, delicate arched bridge. The bridge’s white stone had already yellowed. Below the bridge, lotus pond leaves half-withered. Dew dropped from broken lotus leaves, falling soundlessly.

Hidden in the tunnel, viewing that place’s rain sounds and desolation in this place’s dark silence—like separated by the legendary “Past Dust Mirror,” watching memory’s long-sealed aged past. The story had already yellowed. The beauty had long aged. Some unknown fiddle hoarsely played. A Southern Branch dream.

Feng Zhiwei’s heart suddenly surged with inexplicable desolation.

Then she saw in the deathly lifeless courtyard, someone suddenly walking slowly. In pouring rain without umbrella or felt cloak, in a dreamlike ghostly posture, stepping onto the arched bridge.

He stood dazed on the bridge in the rain. Heavy rain instantly soaked his moon-white collar, flowing from purple-gold crown, down jet-black hair into brow tips and temples. Those brows became black as night, setting off deeply flowing, turning eyes, slightly pale face. Startlingly beautiful and cold.

Falling rain soundless. Person in rain. Wind from all sides couldn’t raise soaked garment edges. Ice-cold robe corners tremblingly dropped a withered flower.

Feng Zhiwei unconsciously extended her hand, as if wanting to pull that person away from this frost-cold rain. Her hand extended, touching ice-cold crystal wall.

The bridge’s person had already slowly knelt down.

He knelt in the ice-cold rainy ground. Amid splashing water flowers, toward that palace room’s direction, lips moved, quietly calling two words.

Feng Zhiwei gazed dazedly at that rain silhouette, letting those two words slowly flow through her heart. Her palm suddenly turned ice-cold.

“Mother Consort.”