It was already past midnight, yet Fu Su couldn’t sleep no matter what.

Five braziers burned in Gaoquan Palace’s sleeping hall. Perhaps too dry, Fu Su’s chest held a stubbornly unavoidable stuffiness.

The front and rear casement windows of the sleeping hall had both been opened just a crack. The cross-breeze diluted the scent of burning storax incense considerably but also brought the cold chill of winter nights. Just as Fu Su was thinking he might as well get up and read a few more scrolls, he heard lowered conversation outside the door.

Since he couldn’t sleep anyway, Fu Su put on his clothes and rose. Walking to the half-open door, he heard the eunuch Gu Cun’s slightly displeased voice—

“Is such a trifling joke worth disturbing the eldest prince?”

“What matter?” Fu Su asked curiously, pushing open the door. He happened to see Gu Cun hide a small bamboo strip in his sleeve. “Bring it here for me to see.”

Gu Cun hesitated, but seeing Fu Su’s determined attitude, he didn’t conceal it further. Handing over the bamboo strip, he explained, “Don’t even know who passed this message. This child took it seriously and insisted on reporting it to you.”

The young palace maid before him was named Caiwei, only eleven or twelve years old, one who served outside the hall. Fu Su found her somewhat familiar. Seeing her anxious with sweat beading her forehead, unable and unqualified to argue against Gu Cun’s words, but the anxious expression on her face wasn’t feigned—he took the information on this bamboo strip more seriously.

With just one glance, his expression changed.

Half-Step Hall Superior Minister in danger

Only seven characters written on the bamboo strip, as if deliberately hiding the handwriting, written extremely carelessly yet emanating casualness. Didn’t look like the urgency of calling for help at all, but rather take-it-or-leave-it arrogance. No wonder Gu Cun immediately judged it a joke. Because Gu Cun had also learned to read alongside him since childhood and possessed considerable learning.

Gu Cun wasn’t like Caiwei, an ignorant little palace maid who didn’t know what mattered. Over all these years, how many true or false messages had he received, how many large and small open and covert conflicts had he encountered? How could he possibly disturb his eldest prince over such vague information?

However, he secretly praised that whoever passed this message knew how to grasp the key point—knowing to bring up that Superior Minister Gan. As long as his eldest prince saw it, emotionally and rationally he couldn’t pretend not to see it.

Sure enough, Fu Su only pondered for a moment before saying aloud, “Change clothes. Go to Half-Step Hall.”

“Why trouble the eldest prince? I can make the trip.” Gu Cun held an extra measure of caution. The other party merely passed along information of unknown authenticity and hadn’t specified Fu Su should come personally.

Seeing Fu Su willing to manage this matter, Caiwei trembled with excitement. Now seeing him turn back to find clothes, she very perceptively rushed into the hall, brought out a deep purple everyday outer robe for Fu Su, then attended to him putting it on.

Seeing her like this, Fu Su smiled and asked casually, “Looking at you, you seem quite concerned about that Superior Minister Gan.”

Caiwei had clear eyes and fine features. Hearing this, her entire face reddened. Of course, those serving before noble persons in the palace at least wouldn’t look too offensive—all of middling to fine appearance. Seeing this girl’s face completely red, Fu Su wanted to tease her more. But after walking to the corridor and being illuminated by the dim yellow palace lamps, he finally saw clearly that Caiwei wasn’t embarrassed at all—she was suppressing such anger her entire face had flushed red.

“Why is this?” Fu Su stopped walking, his voice also becoming icy.

With a “thud,” Caiwei knelt on the cold bluestone bricks, biting her lip with head bowed, saying nothing.

Fu Su looked at her hands hanging at her sides clenched into fists, narrowed his eyes, and glanced meaningfully at Gu Cun following behind.

Gu Cun originally wanted to stay out of it, but his eldest prince’s glance, though only learning one-tenth of his father king’s ability, still carried tremendously oppressive momentum. So he could only lower his head, carefully choosing words as he slowly said, “Eldest Prince, perhaps this is a misunderstanding…”

“It’s not!” Caiwei excitedly interrupted Gu Cun’s words, not caring about committing the offense of inferiors against superiors, pouring out all the anger she’d suppressed for so many days.

Hurried footsteps and the sound of robes rustling echoed in the corridor. Fu Su had already thrown behind his fourteen years of learned palace etiquette. His ears seemed to still echo with Caiwei’s earlier indignant words as he strode toward Half-Step Hall as quickly as possible.

In places he hadn’t seen, what exactly had that youth encountered?

The young Superior Minister always appeared before him proud and self-possessed, his entire person emanating a natural halo impossible to ignore. Fu Su admitted that sometimes he found that ineffable pride somewhat glaring, which was why he rarely cast his gaze upon the other, to the point of not even noticing the patches on the youth’s green robe.

Why didn’t he come explain all this? Or rather, why didn’t anyone come tell him?

Fu Su used his peripheral vision to glance at Gu Cun silently following behind him. Rebuking words surged to his lips but he silently swallowed them back down.

He was already fourteen, not an ignorant child. He knew that in this world, even the most loyal servants had their own thoughts. Gu Cun probably thought this was a test he was giving that Superior Minister Gan, just like making the other stand in scorching sun for over an hour at their first meeting.

He had been too careless.

Being heaven’s favored son from the moment of birth, he’d never directly experienced others’ malice and rejection, thus never imagined that Superior Minister Gan would actually encounter all this under his very nose.

As Fu Su reflected in his heart, he couldn’t help but quicken his pace. The moment he turned the corridor corner and saw Half-Step Hall’s flying eaves, he finally lifted his robe hem and began running.

Gu Cun also hurriedly followed his eldest prince. He hadn’t known this eldest prince who spent all day practicing calligraphy and reading documents could run so fast. Even exerting all his ability, he fell behind by several breaths before reaching Half-Step Hall.

The pitch-black Half-Step Hall was completely silent. Gu Cun sensitively smelled a thick bloody scent, inwardly crying trouble. He quickly pulled out the flint stone he carried in his sleeve and lit the bronze oil lamp nearby.

The dim yellow lamplight rendered the empty and secluded Half-Step Hall. Gu Cun also saw clearly that his eldest prince was holding someone, walking toward him with a grim expression, covered in shocking amounts of fresh blood.

His breathing tightened. Gu Cun belatedly confirmed his eldest prince’s blood stains came from the person in his arms. He couldn’t help but relax, but also knew he’d done wrong tonight. He quickly stepped aside, clearing the doorway, while reaching out his hand intending to help his eldest prince share the burden.

“No need.” Fu Su avoided Gu Cun’s extended hand, holding the youth in his arms even tighter. The body beneath thin clothing was so thin it was alarming—holding him felt somewhat abrasive. On winter night’s cold, Half-Step Hall’s bluestone bricks were bone-chillingly icy. Who knew how long this youth had lain here—his entire body had already become cold and stiff. If not for a breath still in his chest, Fu Su would almost think the other had long since died. Looking at Gu Cun before him, thinking this person was also part of delaying rescue, Fu Su became even angrier, coldly dropping four words: “Summon the Imperial Physician Director.”

“Yes.” Gu Cun quickly lowered his head in acknowledgment. He’d never heard his eldest prince speak in such cold, hard, and sharp tones.

“Investigate.” This single word struck ground even more forcefully, making Gu Cun lower his head further.

“Yes.” Gu Cun still responded with his steady voice. Even if the eldest prince didn’t say it, he would investigate to the end. Though he didn’t much like this expressionless Superior Minister Gan, he was ultimately the eldest prince’s person. How could others bully him?

Account by account, he remembered everything clearly. Gu Cun glanced at the golden gan and golden ge stained with fresh blood in Half-Step Hall’s center, his expression cold and solemn.

Fu Su delayed no longer, holding the injured and unconscious green-robed youth as he strode away.

Drops of fresh blood meandered down beneath his feet, hitting the bluestone bricks and splattering apart bit by bit, like tragic yet beautifully blooming blood-colored plum blossoms.

Caiwei watched over the medicinal decoction that had been boiling and boiling on the small red clay stove in the room, wiping with her sleeve the hot sweat from her face caused by the fire charcoal, occasionally turning back to glance at the young Superior Minister sleeping unconscious on the couch.

Because of what happened at Half-Step Hall, Fu Su completely changed from his usual gentle elegance. Like a flood dragon whose reverse scale had been touched, he thunderously punished many guards and inner palace maids who should have been on duty near Half-Step Hall that night, showing no mercy.

Even the King of Qin, occupied with ten thousand affairs daily, specially issued an edict of concern upon hearing this matter. But this was the critical moment for attacking Zhao—he couldn’t spare himself to manage palace affairs, so he handed full authority to the eldest prince Fu Su.

With the culprit unknown, Fu Su felt there were few trustworthy people in this palace. Moreover, Superior Minister Gan held official rank—it wouldn’t be proper to deploy harem maids. So he arranged for Caiwei to personally attend him, not even daring to let others touch the medicine preparation.

Caiwei’s father was a soldier. Since her birth, her mother had constantly hoped for her father’s return. Even her name came from the poem “Caiwei,” infused with longing affection. But her father remained forever on Qin’s battlefield against Zhao. Her mother could only helplessly remarry. Not wanting to burden her mother, she begged connected relatives to recommend her into the palace as a small maid serving in the front court. She had no interaction with Superior Minister Gan, only silently admiring from afar this young Superior Minister who at twelve could be sent as envoy to Zhao and with just eloquent words seize over ten Zhao cities.

Because she constantly paid attention, she took in everything the other had encountered these days. Caiwei knew she was just a small palace maid—to those heaven-born nobles, just an insignificant ant. When she reported the humiliation the young Superior Minister suffered to Attendant Official Gu Cun, he only told her to keep watching. She could only grit her teeth and continue watching, trying to remember every incident as much as possible. When she picked up that bamboo strip last night, she immediately intuited it concerned the Superior Minister. Unable to read, she specially sought out literate senior eunuchs in the palace for explanation. Immediately anxious as fire, not caring about impropriety, she directly stormed the eldest prince’s sleeping hall, never once thinking she might be punished for this.

Fortunately, the eldest prince wasn’t asleep.

And fortunately, the eldest prince intervened.

The more Caiwei thought, the more frightened she became. Seeing the medicinal decoction steadily bubbling quietly on the fire, she couldn’t help but put down the spoon and walk to the couch to check the young Superior Minister’s condition.

This youth only one year older than herself was actually a full size smaller than her. His head was wrapped tightly in white cotton cloth, appearing incomparably fragile. Because the injury was on the back of his head, he could only lie on his side. Long hair scattered on the couch naturally hung down. The small face half-buried in soft pillows sleeping had the pallor of excessive blood loss, with blue-black shadows beneath his eyes, clearly having not rested well for many days.

The sun outside the window had already tilted west. Since midnight when Fu Su summoned the Imperial Physician Director, a full day had already passed, yet the young Superior Minister hadn’t once opened his eyes. Caiwei suppressed her worry, washed a handkerchief in warm water, and carefully wiped the youth’s cheeks.

Clamoring sounds faintly came from outside the window—definitely that Ying making a fuss to enter again. That person was clumsy and needed others to serve him—how could he possibly care for someone? Moreover, the eldest prince had already issued strict orders—except for the Imperial Physician Director, other people weren’t allowed to enter casually. Caiwei threw down the handkerchief in her hands and aggressively rushed out.

The young Superior Minister awoke amid such clamor. The pain in the back of his head prevented him from concentrating for quite a while. After a good moment, he surveyed this quiet room filled with medicinal fragrance. He half-propped himself up and touched his head, discovering he’d been properly bandaged. Recalling the Half-Step Hall encounter, the youth’s expression flashed with humiliation and anger.

Really too careless. Since he knew he couldn’t see things clearly at night, he should have properly lit an oil lamp to carry.

As for who did this—no need to think. It wouldn’t be Wang Li. That person definitely disdained such backstabbing sneak attacks.

When Fu Su stopped the clamoring Ying and entered the quiet room, he happened to see the young Superior Minister slightly leaning against the soft couch, face lowered, brows locked in thought. He immediately walked quickly forward, picked up the water cup prepared on the tea table, felt the temperature was just warmly suitable, and hurriedly passed it over.

The youth slightly raised his eyes. The eldest prince’s sudden attentiveness didn’t move him at all. Without changing expression, he accepted the water cup. Though extremely thirsty, he still used elegant posture to drink in small sips.

Fu Su only felt incomparably awkward. He’d imagined many kinds of reactions when the youth awoke—angry, aggrieved, crying, cold—and thought of many corresponding methods. But he completely hadn’t expected the youth would have such a nonchalant expression upon waking. If angry, he wouldn’t accept the water cup he passed over, right?

The youth calmly finished the cup of water, openly handed the cup back, then threw off the blanket to rise. But the moment he stood, he swayed somewhat unsteadily.

Fu Su quickly supported his arm, frowning. “You’re still injured. Rest lying down.”

“No matter.” The youth pushed away his hand, standing straight. He lowered his head to look at the new clothes he’d been changed into. Wide-sleeved long robe, superior mingwei fabric, the elegant deep green color he liked. The youth’s brows relaxed. He flicked this new robe and said flatly, “Thank you.”

Hearing this, Fu Su’s face and ears reddened. He’d already investigated much of the situation these days, knowing how much pressure and humiliation this young Superior Minister had withstood under circumstances he didn’t know. For a moment he couldn’t distinguish whether these two words were sincere thanks or meaningfully sarcastic. Seeing the youth insist on leaving, he was actually intimidated by his momentum, unable even to speak words of obstruction. He could only helplessly watch him leave after performing a bow.

Fu Su watched the youth’s straight-backed figure, realizing for the first time that no matter what happened, nothing could bend his proud spine.

Sighing soundlessly, Fu Su waved his hand, instructing Caiwei to follow and attend.

Caiwei joyfully followed. Of course, she didn’t forget to use a handkerchief to lift the medicine jar down from the fire.