It was common knowledge that the Prince of Ling and his son were at odds, yet witnessing it in person made clear just how severe the rift truly was. Still, thinking back to the lawsuit once involving the Prince of Ling and the Princess of Ling, it was not difficult to understand — the hatred of a mother’s murder was an irreconcilable enmity. Those without backbone might simply endure it, but Shizi Gu was hardly a man without backbone. It was said that after that incident he had refused to acknowledge his father entirely, and the one time he had ever set foot in the Prince’s residence was only because the Prince of Ling had managed to obtain an imperial edict from the Emperor as pretense.

The rift between father and son had grown so vast that even the late Emperor and the Empress Dowager had been unable to reconcile them — so the state of affairs today came as no surprise.

Gu Yanxi walked over as though nothing had happened and steadied his grandmother, his tone gentle yet his manner unyielding. “The yin energy is heavy here. You need not come again. Shao Yao, escort Grandmother back.”

Shao Yao scrambled to her feet at once, then, remembering something, crouched down beside the Crown Prince and murmured softly, “I brought back some good things to eat. I’ll give them to you later.”

The Crown Prince did not remind her that there were many things he could not eat during the mourning period. He answered her in the same hushed voice, then urged her to hurry and escort Grandmother back.

The Empress Dowager’s gaze moved slowly among her three grandchildren, and her heart was quietly moved with relief. Heaven had not abandoned Great Qing — it had at last left behind an ember for this dynasty. So long as these brothers could stand watch over one another, the rivers and mountains of Great Qing could be held.

Watching the two of them leave the mourning hall, Gu Yanxi knelt once more and tore several sheets of spirit money to toss into the brazier. As he did, he said, “For what transpired just now, I ask that Your Highness the Crown Prince grant pardon.”

The Crown Prince was momentarily startled. He raised his head and looked over — yes, it was so. He was now Crown Prince, and Yanxi had become Regent Prince. Once he ascended the throne, they would be sovereign and subject.

He pressed his lips together and bowed his head, his expression hidden from all eyes. After a long moment, he spoke: “Let it not happen again. Do not disturb the late Emperor’s rest.”

“Yes.” Gu Yanxi answered in deferential tones, naturally and without the slightest strain, as though it had always been this way. Those who watched quietly adjusted their own hearts and minds — the Sixth Prince was no longer the overlooked imperial son he had once been. They too needed to change their conduct accordingly.

The rites of the seventh day were conducted with extraordinary solemnity, carrying on past midnight before at last coming to a close. Everyone was utterly exhausted from the long vigil.

Returning to his quarters within the palace, Gu Yanxi stopped when he saw a light burning within. He stood and regarded it for a moment before finally stepping forward — and then walking faster and faster, his heart pounding as though it might leap from his chest by the time he pushed open the door.

“All done?” Hua Zhi set down her book and rose to her feet. In the lamplight, her features were softened to a quiet warmth. “The kitchen has been keeping food warm. I’ll have someone bring it up.”

Gu Yanxi stepped forward and drew her gently into his arms. In that moment, it was as though his heart had found its home.

Hua Zhi embraced him in return, asking no questions about what had happened. The things that befell them had never been few — through this past year they had walked on, holding each other up just like this.

After a good while, Gu Yanxi finally quieted his heart. He drew back and looked at her, then let out a long sigh. “You’ve grown thinner again. It’s my fault — I’ve always made you work twice as hard.”

“A thousand pieces of gold couldn’t buy my willingness.” Hua Zhi steered him to sit down, then stepped to the doorway and instructed the palace attendants: “Bring the food up, and send the other portion to the Crown Prince at once.”

“Yes.”

Sitting down beside Yanxi, Hua Zhi asked, “Where is Shao Yao?”

“I sent her to keep Grandmother company.”

Hua Zhi understood without needing to be told. The Empress Dowager was like a bowstring drawn taut to its limit — she could only be eased gradually. Releasing too quickly or too forcefully would bring consequences too terrible to imagine. Shao Yao had medical skill, and was of imperial blood besides; there was no one more fitting to keep her company.

“I did not tell her you were in the palace today — otherwise she would have slipped away to find you long ago. Tomorrow when she comes, remind her: the Crown Prince is not simply an imperial prince anymore. She must be mindful and not act too freely.”

“I actually think it is quite good that Shao Yao can follow her nature. The Crown Prince is indeed no longer simply an imperial prince, but at heart he is still that little Sixth Prince. Until the day he chooses to cast us aside, there is no need to rush and distance ourselves from him.” Hua Zhi took Yanxi’s hand and gently stroked the fresh wound upon it. “A person whose heart is full will always be more forgiving than a person whose heart is lonely. It is better for a ruler to be forgiving. Besides, Shao Yao is not without her own sense of measure — do not worry. Watch and see.”

Gu Yanxi turned his hand and clasped hers, then considered briefly and nodded. “You are right. We need not be in a hurry to push him toward that lonely path — let him decide for himself what kind of road he wishes to walk.”

Hua Zhi smiled and was about to speak when she saw a palace attendant enter carrying a wooden tray. She stopped herself at once. Here in this palace, what she had just said was already more than should have been spoken.

“It is all right — everyone here is my own.”

The several palace attendants turned together and bowed to Hua Zhi. She raised her hand slightly in acknowledgment, and understood at once why her instructions had been carried out so thoroughly — it must be that Yanxi had long since given the order. To these people, she was already one of their own.

“Eat quickly.”

Gu Yanxi was genuinely hungry. After more than a month of traveling and managing on whatever was simplest, followed by arriving back to the great mourning, he had eaten nothing since the morning. He ate without lifting his head, and Hua Zhi picked up a pair of chopsticks and sat beside him, placing food in his bowl and refilling his rice whenever it was empty.

Watching Hua Zhi like this, Gu Yanxi suddenly understood what it meant to speak of peaceful days. He thought — if only life could remain this calm and steady always. He could give up everything else. Prince Regent, Shizi — none of it mattered. He only asked for Hua Zhi beside him.

“The late Emperor’s dying edict…”

Hua Zhi pushed his bowl back toward him, signaling him to eat. “We do not speak of such things during a meal.”

During a meal — but every meal must end.

He watched the tea leaves rise and sink in his cup, and his heart rose and sank with them. Just as he did not know how to bring himself to begin, Hua Zhi spoke first: “A sovereign’s marriage cannot be left indefinitely. Little Six will likely need to wed by fifteen or sixteen — that is only three or four years away. I can wait. Whether people call me an old maid is their affair — I do not take it to heart.”

The more Hua Zhi spoke this way, the more Gu Yanxi felt the weight of his debt to her. She had rendered service to the realm, yet in the end she had been given nothing more than the title of Grand Tutor, and had moreover been coerced by the late Emperor into accepting such conditions. He did not know how Hua Zhi had felt in that moment — but he felt the injustice on her behalf.

Hua Zhi saw how he looked, seemingly more aggrieved than she herself was, and laughed. “I truly do not mind. By then I will only be twenty-one or twenty-two. So long as you do not find me old, it is no one else’s concern. No one will come to my door to point at my nose and call me an old maid — the Hua Family’s gate is not so easy to walk through. Anyone like that who managed to get in would be driven straight back out.”

“I would like to see anyone dare!” Gu Yanxi touched her face. “And who knows how much the elder Lord Hua will grieve — whether he will even be willing to give you to me may well be another question entirely.”

“The first female official in Great Qing, Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince in office — other than you, who else would dare have me? Though you will need to properly coax my grandfather. He will certainly be heartbroken for me.” Hua Zhi smiled, and then, midway through, her mood suddenly fell. “At last I have waited for the day of homecoming — but how am I to face Grandfather? Grandmother… is gone.”

Gu Yanxi leaned forward and held her close. “He will grieve. But he will also be glad. You have not let him down.”