Summer dawn came early; by the third quarter of the hour of the Tiger, the sky had already begun to pale.

The east wing was thick with the heavy smell of medicine. Hot water and ginseng broth were carried in one after another, yet the person inside showed no sign of improvement — not even the physician had come out.

Prince Ling waited beneath the eaves. He had not slept all night, and dark circles had begun to rise beneath his eyes.

A guard nearby, seeing this, suggested: “Your Highness should go rest for a while. I’ll keep watch here.”

Prince Ling glanced at him and waved a hand.

Before long, Physician Xue finished examining Fang Fulan and finally came out.

Prince Ling stepped forward and asked: “How is she?”

Physician Xue said: “Reporting to Your Highness, her life is spared, at least.”

Prince Ling let out a breath of relief.

But Physician Xue continued: “It’s only that the young mistress’s constitution was already frail, and drowning in the cold night has damaged her very foundation. With her mind so burdened now, it has brought on an acute illness. If she isn’t carefully nursed back to health, I fear she won’t have many years left.”

Just then Madam Qin came out of the room, and hearing this, hurried forward and bowed: “May I ask, Physician Xue, how should Fulan’s illness be nursed? Please tell me the method, so that I may see to her care properly.”

“It isn’t difficult. The young mistress is still young — as long as she takes her medicine on schedule every day and worries less, thinks less, in a few months’ time she should recover.” Physician Xue added, “The crucial thing is that she herself must have the will to live.”

Hearing the words “will to live,” both Prince Ling and Madam Qin fell silent.

When Fang Fulan had gone alone toward the rear courtyard, Prince Ling and Madam Qin had in fact followed behind her; knowing she was grieving, and afraid of startling her, they had not followed too closely.

When Fang Fulan fell into the water without warning, Prince Ling and the guards who rushed over went to save her at once, but since it was deep in the night, the water below was pitch dark, and Fang Fulan, having abandoned all will to live, simply let herself sink — so for a time they could not find her at all.

Fortunately the lotus pond was not very large, and Prince Ling soon found her and dragged her up onto the bank.

Physician Xue still had to hurry off to brew medicine for Fang Fulan; he bowed to Prince Ling and left in haste.

Madam Qin bowed to Prince Ling once more and said: “Fulan has just woken. She’s having ginseng broth now.”

She asked: “Does Your Highness wish to see her?”

Though she knew Fang Fulan might not be willing to see Prince Ling right now, their whole family lived under another’s roof, their very lives held in someone else’s hands — whether to see him or not was hardly theirs to decide.

Prince Ling nodded slightly and stepped into the room, saying to the maid feeding Fang Fulan ginseng broth by the bed: “I’ll do it.”

The maid handed the bowl of broth to Prince Ling and led the room full of servants out.

Fang Fulan sat propped against a pillow, her face terribly pale, her expression weary. Seeing Prince Ling enter, she did not look at him. When he scooped up half a spoonful of the broth to feed her, she only turned her face away.

Prince Ling set the bowl aside and said: “Fulan, when the time is right, I will clear the Fang family’s name.”

“No need,” Fang Fulan said, giving a faint, listless smile. “What grievance is there to speak of.”

Seeing her like this, Prince Ling fell silent for a moment, then said again: “Fulan, back then I—”

“Your Highness need not explain,” Fang Fulan said. “I’ve come to understand it all now. Your Highness truly need not feel guilty for abandoning me in my hour of danger — if not for my father’s scheming, Your Highness’s birth mother would not have been struck from the imperial genealogy. You and I are even now.”

Prince Ling heard a faint note of bitterness and resentment in her tone.

He did not know whether she resented him, or resented the injustices of the past. He had meant to explain further, but suddenly recalled what Physician Xue had just said — “the crucial thing is that she herself must have the will to live.”

The words on the tip of his tongue were swallowed back. He reached out and tucked the blanket around her instead, saying: “If that’s how you wish to think of it, then so be it.”

Fang Fulan’s gaze fell on Prince Ling’s hand — his knuckles pale and tinged blue, having no doubt spent the whole night in the cold beside her as well.

Her heart gave a faint pang, but it quickly went numb.

She looked away and said: “Your Highness has many pressing matters these days. If there’s nothing else, there’s no need to come see me again.”

There was a long silence on his side. After a good while, only Prince Ling’s voice came, saying: “Very well.”

Then he rose and pushed open the door, walking out.

The guard waiting outside, seeing Prince Ling come out so quickly, was startled for a moment, then stepped forward and cupped his hands: “Your Highness?”

Prince Ling said nothing, walking toward the front hall where matters were discussed, and asked: “Has someone been sent to inform Pei Ming?”

“Someone has already been sent,” the guard said. “Lord Pei says he will arrive at the start of the hour of the Rabbit.”

There was still a quarter hour before that time.

Prince Ling nodded and asked: “When Cheng Mingying took away Fang Shi and Fang You, did he leave any message?”

“He did. He said he wished to ask Your Highness whether you understand this Fifth Prince who has just returned to the palace.”

“The Fifth Prince clearly has no interest in the throne — so what, after all this hardship, did he return to Jinling for?”

“The Third Young Master said that in a few days, when the Fifth Prince is formally restored to the imperial clan register, he will be waiting for Your Highness at Mingyin Temple.”

Hearing this, Prince Ling fell silent.

Why Tian Ze had returned to Jinling, others did not know — but no one understood it better than he did.

Tian Ze wanted to clear the name of the Marquis of Zhongyong’s household, wanted the truth of his treachery laid bare before the world.

And so what Tian Ze wanted was, precisely, Prince Ling’s life.

And over the past year or two, all Cheng Chang had done was dig up evidence against Prince Ling.

No doubt he had already learned some part of the truth — which was why, after capturing Chai Ping, he hadn’t cared in the least whether he could extract Prince Ling’s crimes from his mouth, and had driven him to his death without mercy.

By leaving these words, Cheng Chang was, first, reminding Prince Ling that the two of them shared the same fate, close as lips and teeth — if he died, the next target of Emperor Zhaoyuan would be Prince Ling.

The old emperor might be willing to spare Prince Ling’s life, but if Tian Ze became Crown Prince, would he let him off so easily?

And even setting that aside — even if Tian Ze were gentle and benevolent enough to spare Prince Ling, if he ever learned that the very Fang family who had caused his birth mother’s death had been sheltered by Prince Ling and brought back to Jinling, would he not be moved to kill him after all?

So Cheng Chang’s taking away Fang Shi and Fang You held no great mystery — it was merely the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

What Cheng Chang wanted to tell Prince Ling was that, while the old emperor was moving to kill him, this was the best moment to “purge the emperor’s side of traitorous officials” by raising troops.

When he said, “In a few days, the Fifth Prince will be restored to the clan register at Mingyin Temple — I’ll be waiting for you,” he was using himself as bait, luring Prince Ling into raising an army.

Prince Ling did not understand why Cheng Chang would do such a thing.

Because if he used himself as bait, he himself would be the first to die.

But on second thought, Prince Ling realized: as heir to a princely title, Cheng Chang had grasped power to such an extent that his fate now held only two paths — execution or rebellion. What further retreat could there be? By now, filled with unresolved bitterness, wanting only to vent his hatred, he likely no longer cared about his own life at all.

He simply wanted to throw the realm into chaos, wanted to watch Prince Ling raise his army, wanted to watch Emperor Zhaoyuan and Prince Ling — father and son — tear each other apart.

Very well then, Prince Ling thought.

He was not the type to sit and await death, nor did he trust Emperor Zhaoyuan in the slightest.

He had long since begun laying his plans; rebellion had always been his intention from the start.

Now that everything was out on the table, it was simply a matter of seeing which of the three sides would come out on top.

Pei Ming arrived at the princely villa at the start of the hour of the Rabbit. Prince Ling was already waiting for him in the council hall. Pei Ming hurried forward and apologized: “This subject was delayed on the road and kept Your Highness waiting.”

Prince Ling helped him up with a light gesture: “No need for such formality, Lord Pei. I summoned you today only to say one thing.”

He paused briefly, then slowly spoke three words: “Muster the troops.”

Pei Ming was startled for a moment, then asked: “Your Highness has decided?”

He quickly composed himself and bowed formally: “This subject understands. I will pass Your Highness’s order to my son the moment I return home.”

That Prince Ling had summoned him alone just to say this one thing showed how solemn the matter was.

Pei Ming thought for a moment, then asked: “Has Your Highness sent word to Commandant Cao and General Xuanwu of the Western Hills Camp?”

Prince Ling said: “I will go see them myself later.”

Pei Ming nodded, and the two went on to discuss matters of troop deployment. Just as they were finishing, someone suddenly came from outside to announce: “Your Highness, Vice Minister Shan of the Secretariat requests an audience.”

Hearing this, Prince Ling frowned instantly.

This Shan Wenxuan really was a useless fool — did he not even consider what time it was, coming here to see him without so much as an appointment?

Seeing Prince Ling’s displeasure, Pei Ming said: “If Your Highness does not wish to see Lord Shan, I can send him away.”

Prince Ling nodded and, clasping his hands behind his back, left the council hall first.

The moment Pei Ming reached the “teahouse” outside the villa, he saw Shan Wenxuan cradling a cup of tea, craning his neck to peer inside. Seeing it was Pei Ming, he hurried forward and lowered his voice: “Why is it you? Where’s His Highness?”

“His Highness has urgent business. If Lord Shan has something to say, you may tell me first.”

“I can’t tell you! This is a matter of the utmost importance!” Shan Wenxuan said anxiously.

But after a moment’s thought, sensing that Prince Ling might not be willing to see him, he reluctantly relented: “Fine, I’ll tell you first, then.”

He glanced around and lowered his voice: “Tell me — is His Highness planning to raise troops in a few days?”

Though Shan Wenxuan had the mind of a blockhead, he hadn’t sat in the high position of Vice Minister of the Secretariat for nothing — his sources of information were indeed sharp.

Pei Ming replied evenly: “Where on earth did you get that idea? I know nothing of the sort.”

Shan Wenxuan said urgently: “You must tell His Highness — under no circumstances should he raise troops these next few days!”

“And why is that?” Pei Ming asked, seeing how deadly serious he looked.

“Don’t I have an old acquaintance at the Astronomical Bureau?” Shan Wenxuan said. “I asked him to cast a divination for His Highness.”

“And that reading said…” Shan Wenxuan pressed his lips together, as though what he was about to say were some tremendous secret, his very tone tinged with a chill of fear, “the reading said that on His Highness’s path lies the working of a fierce and vengeful ghost — bloodshed and calamity, great misfortune!”