That day was truly chaotic. Everyone’s true hearts, or their true faces, were laid bare that day.

Late that night, I dragged my exhausted body to the Buddhist hall and lit three more sticks of incense.

As white smoke rose, I knelt devoutly.

Bodhisattva, please protect Rongyu through this ordeal. If he can emerge safely, even if I must spend my remaining years with lamp and Buddha, I’m willing.

Leaving the hall, I washed up briefly and lay in bed, but couldn’t close my eyes.

Thinking of that night’s dream, I got up and took up my brush to write these pages.

I have a bad premonition that this incident and what happened to our teacher nine years ago came from the same person’s hand.

This person has been hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment.

…

Thirtieth year of Yuanfeng;

Seventh month, thirteenth day;

Sleepless all night.

After the hour of the rat passed, I sat in the study, eagerly awaiting dawn. What came instead was news that the Emperor still hadn’t held court.

Without court, the memorials pleading for the Crown Prince and proclaiming his innocence couldn’t be transmitted upward.

Without further thought, I immediately went to Han Ming’s residence to investigate.

Han Ming, eyes bloodshot, received me in his study. His opening words were that the situation was dire.

The dire situation wasn’t just that the Emperor hadn’t held court—he’d even ordered that he would see no one.

Seeing no one meant the chess piece of the Crown Prince’s maternal uncle’s family, Empress Xiaoxian’s natal family, became a wasted move.

The current situation: the Crown Prince was surrounded in the Eastern Palace, unable to leave;

The Emperor sat guarded in the palace, no one could see him.

This was a deadlock.

Han Ming said we must find a way to break this deadlock.

The idea was good, but how to break it?

After long consultation, he and I decided on internal and external approaches—

Internally, we must find a way to see the Crown Prince.

Externally, we needed to contact familiar eunuchs in the palace to see if there was a way for them to convey the Crown Prince’s grievance to the Emperor.

Just then, three knocks sounded on the window. A dark figure stood by the window.

The visitor was the Crown Prince’s shadow guard.

The Crown Prince commanded that Han Ming and I come to the Eastern Palace after nightfall, entering through the west corner gate.

Only then did Han Ming and I learn that the west corner gate was guarded by the Left Imperial Forest Guard, led by a man named Zhang Yuanbing.

He was the Crown Prince’s man planted in the Left Imperial Forest Guard.

The seventh month—sweltering heat.

That day, countless people behind the Crown Prince rushed about for him under the scorching sun.

After nightfall, Han Ming and I, under Zhang Yuanbing’s cover, entered through the west corner gate.

Inside the Eastern Palace, guards stood every three steps, sentries every five.

These people were all the Crown Prince’s personal guards.

We two passed through the long corridor straight to the study. Just reaching the courtyard gate, we saw Rongyu in simple garments, barefoot, hair loose, standing alone in the courtyard.

My heart ached terribly, my throat thick with bitterness.

This was a Rongyu I’d never seen. Even when the Tang family was confiscated, he’d been dressed impeccably.

The heir apparent’s appearance and bearing were topics the censors at the Censorate used for their criticisms.

Never mind barefoot with loose hair—even a few extra wrinkles on his clothing, and they could write memorials hundreds of characters long.

Rongyu—he’d been forced into a cornered beast!

He looked toward us, his eyes showing neither joy nor anger.

As if from another lifetime.

Han Ming’s and my eyes grew hot. We quickly stepped forward and knelt in salutation.

Rongyu didn’t tell us to rise. Instead, he sighed lightly and said, “You should know I’m not that kind of person.”

These words nearly brought tears to my eyes.

Those familiar with Rongyu knew his nature wasn’t actually easy to get along with. He would lose his temper, would curse.

Especially after the spring examination case, he was often unpredictable—one moment gentle as spring breeze, the next flying into rage.

He also killed people.

Those who opposed him, who didn’t get along with him—he would eliminate them one by one. But cursing his own father to death—he wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t deign to do it.

Moreover, he’d already been Crown Prince for decades. One day earlier, one day later—what difference did it make?

“These years, I’ve managed step by step, yielded step by step, been careful step by step, sleeping with one eye open and one eye closed. In the end, I was still schemed against.”

His voice carried a bone-chilling despair.

“Is this Heaven’s Way?”

I straightened. “Your Highness, this minister dares ask: What is Heaven’s Way?”

He was slightly startled.

“Father’s kindness and son’s filial piety is not Heaven’s Way. Brothers’ friendship and harmony is not Heaven’s Way. Trembling with caution is not Heaven’s Way.”

I threw caution aside: “So-called Heaven’s Way—whoever is strongest, that is Heaven’s Way.”

Han Ming looked at me deeply and said, “Your Highness, the situation is already very clear. Make your decision.”

The situation was more than clear—even the ending was already written.

Victor becomes king, loser becomes bandit.

That person’s strategy was a killing trap with not the slightest escape route left for the Crown Prince.

If the Crown Prince waited for judgment, given His Majesty’s current closed-door situation, nine out of ten chances he’d be demoted to commoner and imprisoned until death.

And the Crown Prince’s followers would mostly be executed, demoted, or exiled.

Could someone as proud as Rongyu tolerate falling from his high position to become a treasonous criminal, prostrating on the ground like a dog, trembling as he begged the new emperor to spare his life?

He’d said it—he wasn’t that kind of person. That wasn’t his character.

A person has character—this is what Heaven and circumstance uniquely bestow.

He couldn’t be a dog. He would only be a lone wolf, howling at the heavens, fighting with all his might, striving for mutual destruction.

Rongyu said nothing, instead pacing back and forth in the courtyard.

He was hesitating, struggling, weighing, wrestling—battling himself. I knew the benevolence in his heart had emerged to cause trouble again.

“Your Highness!”

I shouted loudly: “If His Majesty trusted you even one bit, he would send someone to investigate this matter. Now the palace gates are tightly closed, no entry or exit—he simply doesn’t trust you!”

Rongyu’s entire body trembled violently. His throat constricted, unable to speak a word. Two streams of tears slowly slid from his eyes.

“Is it truly that there are no fathers and sons in the imperial family?”

Neither Han Ming nor I answered.

Words had reached this point—saying more was useless. It was time for him to decide.

After a long while, Rongyu exhaled deeply and bent to help us both up.

At this moment, his eyes held blazing fire, frighteningly bright. Han Ming and I both secretly sighed with relief.

“You two, follow me inside.”

In the room, several of the Crown Prince’s trusted confidants were already waiting. Their faces wore expressions identical to mine at this moment.

Waiting for the Crown Prince to decide their futures—either life or death.

Second watch, third watch, fourth watch… we deliberated the entire night before settling matters.

Then, attendants brought wine, pouring bowl after bowl.

Rongyu raised his wine bowl, touching cups with each of us individually, then draining it in one gulp.

This wine was indescribably harsh. Drinking it, it rushed straight to the crown of the head, making tears well up. Rongyu said, “You all may go.”

I walked last, turning back for one final look.

Rongyu stood by the window, candlelight dancing behind him. His face was very calm, only his eyes held tearlight.

I suddenly thought—if only he hadn’t been born into the imperial family!

To be an ordinary scholar, marry a woman from an ordinary family, have a bunch of ordinary children;

If only time had stopped nine years ago!

Then, our teacher was still here. Jianxi was tinkering with his miscellaneous contraptions all day. Junior Sister and Shanshi exchanged flirtatious glances constantly. I went on about Lin Bi this, Lin Bi that all day long.

And though Rongyu was unseen, our teacher often praised him.

“Your eldest senior brother—when he was young, he studied diligently, his calligraphy was excellent, his essays when shown to others, everyone praised them…”

—