The sky held only the last trace of light. Gu Yanxi knew it was time to leave.

At the courtyard gate as they parted, Hua Zhi suddenly asked, “Is Cao Cao also of the Gu family name?”

Gu Yanxi was silent a moment, then nodded.

“Her face — whose hand ruined it? A stepmother’s? Or her own father’s?”

“Why do you ask?”

Hua Zhi smiled faintly. “People like you — who else would have the gall to hurt you, other than your own?”

The Gu family name meant she was at minimum of imperial lineage. In a society where imperial power ruled all, even a person from another world like herself would go out of her way to avoid such a family — let alone the people who had been born and raised within this one. Their deference to imperial authority permeated every aspect of their lives.

Gu Yanxi had no rebuttal. What Hua Zhi had said was simply too correct. For those of the imperial family, the only ones with both the standing and the nerve to harm them were their own.

“My grandmother is still living.”

In those few unfinished words lay far too much that could not be helped. Hua Zhi’s heart ached for Shao Yao, yet she could not say Gu Yanxi had done wrong. She could only set the subject aside, and with a deep bow and no words, take her leave.

Gu Yanxi watched her, and said quietly: “I have not forgotten, not for a single moment.”

He did not say that he had not returned to his own residence for years. He offered no defense for what he had done in those years — the suppression of the Wang household, the steady undermining of that woman’s family, the years during which the son that woman had borne went unregistered, his identity uncertain, until that person went to beg before his grandmother and he finally permitted the child to be entered into the family records. He did not say that the Emperor knew all of this, and had allowed it. He certainly did not want Hua Zhi to know that when he had plunged into the fire that night and carried Shao Yao out, he had come within a breath of killing his own father with his own hands.

Yet no matter what he had done, the fact remained: he had never avenged Shao Yao.

Hua Zhi returned to the study and sat in the darkness for a long time. She thought of the Sixth Prince. She thought of the Hua Family. She thought of Shao Yao. She thought of Gu Yanxi. She had believed herself to be calm and unmoved — yet her heartbeat was clearly faster than usual.

She had drawn impossibly close to the highest reaches of this world. She was entangled with a man of imperial blood. And she was harboring an imperial prince within her home. It was as though, in the world she had once known, she had suddenly become bound up with the most powerful figure in the land — she could not remain unmoved.

In a situation like this she needed to be cooler-headed than ever. She must never let herself believe she had become someone exceptional — must never believe the Hua Family could be turned around because of these connections. Hua Zhi warned herself inwardly: she could not allow the Hua Family’s survival to rest on ties as intangible as personal feeling.

Even if she could not avoid all of this, she must not let herself — or the Hua Family — be dragged in. It was a quagmire. No — a bog. Step inside and you would be swallowed whole. The Hua Family was still too weak. One blow would shatter them.

She let out a long, slow breath, rose, and opened the door.

Outside, Ying Chun and Bao Xia stood guard on either side. Along the corridor, a larger shape and a smaller shape had been crouching together, and at the sight of her both scrambled to their feet.

“Hua Hua…”

Hua Zhi gave Shao Yao, who had pressed close to her side, a reassuring pat, then looked over at the Sixth Prince.

The child was watching her with wide, tentative eyes — that look of wanting to come closer but not daring to. Now that she knew his story, Hua Zhi felt a pang in her chest. In every world, the unhappy have their own particular kind of unhappiness; the only difference is whether it is self-wrought or passively borne.

“A’Jian — why are you out of bed?”

In an instant the Sixth Prince’s eyes lit up, growing brighter and brighter. He dared not admit he had overheard her and Yanxi-gege speaking outside, nor did he dare reveal what hope he had been quietly nurturing — he could only use every ounce of self-restraint to keep himself from looking too pleased, and yet he was pleased enough that the corners of his lips and eyes both curved upward, his voice carrying a smile with an upward lilt. “I’ve been lying in bed for days. I wanted to come out and stretch.”

“You are not to leave this courtyard. You understand?”

“Yes. I won’t go out.”

Hua Zhi smiled at him. “Ying Chun, have dinner prepared — I’m hungry. Cao Cao, A’Jian — both of you come and eat a little with me.”

“Why has Elder Sister not eaten yet at this hour?” Hua Bailin said as he stepped into the courtyard, catching the end of his elder sister’s words and asking at once with concern — then noticed, after asking, that there was an unfamiliar person beside her.

By now he was well accustomed to the parade of all sorts of people who appeared around his elder sister. He turned toward A’Jian and offered up a dazzling smile.

The warmth in Hua Zhi’s eyes surfaced. She beckoned Bailin over, and once he was close enough, made the introduction: “This is A’Jian. A’Jian, this is Bailin. He is the only one who comes over here — you two are about the same age. You should talk more when you have the chance.”

“A’Jian.” Hua Bailin asked not a single question, but saluted him in proper form with a clasped-hand bow, open and sunny in the way only he could be. The sincerity of it was such that A’Jian found himself smiling in return, just as genuinely. “Bailin. I look forward to your company.”

“Likewise.”

The two of them exchanged a smile. Despite meeting for the very first time, there was no sense of unfamiliarity between them — one had complete faith in his elder sister, and any person she held in particular regard must surely be worth knowing; the other carried a deep goodwill toward Hua Zhi, and reasoned that anyone she was fond of could not be lacking.

Hua Zhi watched them both with warm eyes, and once the two had finished their courteous exchanges, led everyone toward the side room.

Fu Dong was there with Liu Juan setting out the meal. At the sight of Hua Zhi she began to scold: “Miss, you’re far too late today — the dishes have been reheated so many times, they can’t possibly taste the way they do fresh.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I won’t do it again.” Hua Zhi soothed her good-naturedly, and watching Fu Dong, whose good temper never faltered, be instantly coaxed back into a smile, the corners of Hua Zhi’s own lips curved. It was for the sake of keeping that simple happiness in Fu Dong’s eyes that she would fight with everything she had to keep the Hua Family from reaching its lowest depths.

After the meal, Hua Zhi gave her younger brother a nod. Hua Bailin, understanding at once, drew close to A’Jian and fell into conversation with him, and for the Sixth Prince this was entirely new — the two of them had no conflicting interests, no need to be on guard against each other, and could speak freely about anything under the sun. It was a feeling that was utterly wonderful.

And then he discovered that Hua Bailin knew a great deal — his scholarship was remarkable, too. A’Jian considered himself to have absorbed thoroughly everything taught in the imperial schoolroom, and prided himself on his love of reading — yet no matter what he brought up, Hua Bailin could meet him and hold his own, even offering perspectives that were quite distinctly his. A’Jian was privately astonished, yet felt it was entirely unsurprising: though the Hua Family had fallen, the accumulation of years still ran deep. Hua Bailin’s showing was more than worthy of the praise his mother-consort had given the Hua Family.

Hua Zhi waited more than half a shichen before Bailin at last came out, and she could tell simply from his manner that the two had been thoroughly engrossed in each other’s company — all the more so since Bailin still wore the look of someone who had found a kindred spirit.

“Elder Sister.”

Hua Zhi pushed the teacup across to him. She watched him drain it in a single breath and did not rebuke him, simply refilling it to the brim.

“Elder Sister, who is that person? He’s remarkable — I could barely keep up with his thinking.”

“Barely keep up still means you kept up?”

“Well, naturally. I’m the one Elder Sister taught.” Hua Bailin tipped up his small chin, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Hua Zhi let out a light laugh and did not tell him it was an imperial prince; she only said: “He’ll be staying here for a while. But he cannot leave this courtyard, and you are not to let anyone else know of A’Jian’s presence — it would bring trouble to the Hua Family. Remember that.”

Hua Bailin straightened up, the smile dropping away. “Can we not send him somewhere else?”

“If we send him away, his life will be in danger. Do you still want to?”