When a bed is occupied, how can another sleep beside it?

Zhao Yanjin felt a sea of rage rising in his chest, scorching his meridians until they surged.

If he ascended, the Crown Prince’s faction would certainly die.

Putting himself in their shoes, if the Crown Prince ascended, he absolutely wouldn’t spare him either.

“Now before Your Highness lie two paths. The first: Your Highness returns to your fiefdom, lives peacefully from then on, and waits for heaven’s generous favor.”

Dong Xiao paused for quite a while before continuing: “The second: Seize the right moment, reverse the situation, and fight for a path of survival for your children and descendants.”

“Silence!”

Zhao Yanjin feigned anger: “How dare you speak such treasonous words before this prince!”

Dong Xiao froze, hung his head in silence for a long while, then slowly prostrated himself.

“Boren requests Your Highness make a choice. If you take the first path, Boren will leave Your Highness tomorrow, become a free-roaming cloud and crane, making all corners home, no longer concerning himself with worldly matters.”

“You…”

“If you take the second path, Boren is willing to be Your Highness’s vanguard, accompany Your Highness up mountains of blades and into seas of fire, without fear.”

Dong Xiao raised his head, his gaze extraordinarily firm as he looked at Zhao Yanjin, each word powerful and resonant:

“Your Highness, one general’s success is built on ten thousand bones. Victor becomes king, vanquished becomes bandit. Boren requests Your Highness choose.”

Zhao Yanjin’s heart pounded violently, nearly leaping from his chest.

What two paths were there? Clearly only one path remained—throughout history, whoever lost in the struggle for that throne faced only one outcome: death.

But to have him rebel against his father…

“Boren, you know that His Majesty…”

“His Majesty is old, but Your Highness is still in your prime.”

Dong Xiao’s voice was heavy:

“Moreover, Your Highness must not forget—back then, to sit on that throne, His Majesty showed no mercy. If he had been soft by even a fraction, hesitated even a bit, the person sitting on that dragon throne now would certainly be the former Crown Prince.”

Zhao Yanjin’s eyes flashed with wolf-like ferocity.

After a long silence.

He spoke with unprecedented determination: “This prince chooses the second path!”

……

On the eighteenth of the first month, Ding Yi returned travel-worn and dusty.

Upon receiving the news, Yan Sanhe immediately had Tang Yuan and Lan Chuan prepare hot water and hot food.

As Ding Yi washed and ate, Xie Zhifei and Young Master Pei hurried over, accompanied by Zhu Yuanmo.

Zhu Yuanmo’s hair had turned white overnight, sparking countless idle gossip.

Before the New Year, he had submitted another memorial requesting to resign from his position as Director of the Imperial Observatory. The Emperor retained it without response.

This time, Zhu Yuanmo hadn’t used retreat to advance but had genuinely developed the intention to retire.

Zhu family men had never lived long.

Among the next generation’s children, none possessed outstanding aptitude. Even if there were, he didn’t have time to personally guide that child to sit firmly in the Imperial Observatory.

What he told the Emperor about “the Zhu family’s decline”—those words contained no falsehood.

Prosperity inevitably leads to decline.

The Zhu family’s fortunes had all been destroyed by Zhu Xuanjiu. Better to take a step back and still preserve the entire family.

Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao’s complexions also looked poor—utterly exhausted.

When one person achieves the Dao, even chickens and dogs ascend to heaven.

Not only had the Pei and Xie families’ status risen like the tide, but these two had become the Four-Nine City’s most sought-after bachelors. Everyone who saw them praised them as outstanding young talents, and matchmakers proposing marriage came one after another.

They couldn’t keep up with it all.

The outstanding young talents, because of Zhao Huairen’s words, didn’t dare visit the villa often, fearing to cause trouble at this critical juncture.

After Ding Yi quickly finished his meal and wiped his mouth, he hurried into the flower hall, a bundle still strapped to his back.

He untied the bundle and pulled out a painted scroll. “Miss Yan, look at this.”

Yan Sanhe took the scroll. Upon unrolling it, her heart suddenly stopped beating.

In the painting was a pleasure boat.

At the bow sat a white-robed man cross-legged, a seven-stringed qin resting on his knees, his hands poised upon it.

His hair hung loose, his robe open, revealing his slender neck and robust chest—indescribably unrestrained and carefree.

Most captivating were his eyes gazing into the distance—his eye sockets deeply sunken, his gaze far-reaching and lingering, naturally making one wonder: What was he looking at?

Yan Sanhe passed the scroll to Xie Zhifei.

Even without seeing the real person, Xie Zhifei recognized at a glance that this person and the man in Yan Sanhe’s drawing were the same—

Master Dong of the Han Prince’s estate!

A master strategist skilled in calculation.

A romantic qin entertainer from the pleasure quarters.

If not for this painting, Xie Zhifei couldn’t possibly imagine these two as the same person.

Too unbelievable.

The portrait circulated among everyone before finally returning to Yan Sanhe’s hands.

“Ding Yi, where did this portrait come from?”

“Miss Yan, this portrait was collected by the pavilion master of Qunfang Pavilion on the Qinhuai River. I spent two thousand taels of silver before that pavilion master was willing to part with it.”

Zhu Yuanmo quickly said: “The Zhu family will cover this silver, and Ding Yi’s hardship fee for the round trip—the Zhu family will handle it all.”

“We’ll discuss money matters later.”

Yan Sanhe glanced at Zhu Yuanmo. “Ding Yi, what is this person’s surname and given name?”

“Surname Dong, given name Chengfeng.”

Surnamed Dong?

It seems this Master Dong used his original surname.

Ding Yi: “Miss Yan, this Dong Chengfeng was neither a male prostitute nor a qin entertainer, but rather a qin master.”

Yan Sanhe frowned: “What’s the difference?”

Xie Zhifei sat directly across from Yan Sanhe. “Qin entertainers are registered slaves. Qin masters aren’t—he didn’t need to please anyone. He played the qin purely according to his own preference.”

I see.

Yan Sanhe: “Where is he from? Jinling Prefecture?”

Ding Yi: “Dong Chengfeng isn’t from Jinling Prefecture, nor does anyone know where he came from. He rented a pleasure boat on the Qinhuai River with money, and all day long, besides drinking and sleeping, he just played the qin.”

Yan Sanhe: “You couldn’t find out who his parents were, where they’re from, how many siblings he has in his family?”

Ding Yi nodded: “Couldn’t find any of it.”

This person was like a gust of wind, suddenly blowing into Jinling Prefecture. By the time people noticed there was such a figure on the Qinhuai River, Dong Chengfeng had already become famous.

Both sides of the Qinhuai River were lined with brothels and pleasure houses, with all sorts of people.

When Dong Chengfeng was in good spirits, he would play a piece even for prostitutes or beggars. When his interest waned, no amount of money could make him pluck a string.

Reportedly, the pieces he played could make people laugh heartily or weep behind their hands.

In short, one word: excellent!

“Miss Yan.”

Ding Yi sighed: “So many years have passed, yet I could still find his portrait and learn about him. One reason is his qin playing was too exceptional; the second reason is this person was too popular with women.”

The prostitutes on both sides of the Qinhuai River all took pride in knowing him.

For any prostitute who could board his boat to hear him play a piece, reportedly her value would rise the next day.

Most absurd was that many young ladies from aristocratic families, after seeing him and hearing his music, developed lovesickness, each one clamoring that they would marry none but him.

Was it really that exaggerated?

Yan Sanhe silently exchanged a glance with Li Buyan.

They had both seen Dong Chengfeng with their own eyes. Apart from being tall and having deep-set eyes, they didn’t find him particularly outstanding!

Could it be because he’d reached middle age?

Yan Sanhe frowned, thought for a moment, then asked:

“Besides being skilled at the qin and popular with women, did this Dong Chengfeng have any other special characteristics?”

“Yes!”

—