He only gave Wenren Lin the briefest nod of courtesy, then immediately resumed lecturing.

The hall seemed calm and harmonious—if one overlooked that faint, cool gaze that swept over from time to time.

Zhao Yen fixed her attention on the scroll before her, occasionally lifting her brush to circle and annotate, her long lashes half-lowered, revealing a trace of feminine softness.

Wenren Lin observed her serious appearance as a diligent student. His pale, vein-marked hand rested casually on his knee, his forefinger tapping now and then.

In another’s lecture, she was indeed very obedient.

Not only was there no fainting or sudden illness—she would not even spare a blink of her eyelids. Truly rare.

Without cause, a faint scoff escaped, light as air, falling into Zhao Yen’s ear so very close by.

She did not know what Wenren Lin was sneering at; she only felt half her body turn cold. No matter how she focused her spirit, she could not prevent the time from passing.

The sound of the bell struck, and an hour of classics lesson quickly ended.

Zhou Ji calmly rose to return the salute, handing over Chongwen Hall to Prince Su, who concurrently held the Grand Preceptor’s post.

Wenren Lin put down his crossed long legs, just about to approach Zhao Yen—when he saw her suddenly spring up, slipping away with Pei Sa to the outer corridor for a breath of air.

Wenren Lin gazed at her retreating back, not sparing even a glance behind. He paused, then slowly narrowed his eyes.

Below the corridor, the wind chimes clinked softly, and the sunlight was mild, pleasantly warm.

Pei Sa leaned against the railing, arms folded as he chatted idly: “Never thought Lecturer Zhou, so young in years, could confront Prince Su without falling behind in the least—truly the deserved backbone of a man of letters.”

Zhao Yen could not help but laugh softly.

Integrity and backbone? Zhou Ji certainly had them. The world all said Zhou Wanlan was a high peak flower, too lofty to descend into the dust of the mortal world. Only Zhao Yen knew that it was simply because he was somewhat face-blind—so, in order to avoid the embarrassment of mistaking someone’s identity, he chose to keep his mouth shut and wait for the other person to report their own name.

As time went on, it created an illusion of aloofness and unapproachability.

Zhao Yen gathered her mind, gazing sorrowfully at the blue-gray undulating mountains beyond the capital, and let out a long sigh.

Sure enough, Pei Sa was drawn by the look of grief upon her face and turned his head to look over.

“The upcoming lesson with Prince Su may be difficult.”

Zhao Yen timely guided the conversation toward the direction she had prearranged.

Pei Sa dismissed it lightly: “Riding and archery are my strengths, and I know a little of strategy and the art of war as well. Nothing difficult.”

“Indeed, that is why Gu especially requested Shizi to be the Crown Prince’s study companion, to give Gu assistance.”

As she spoke, her expression showed a trace of forlornness. She lowered her head and sighed: “It is all Gu’s fault for being too weak of body, and so the performance in the Grand Preceptor’s lessons has not been satisfactory.”

Pei Sa was a forthright youth of chivalrous spirit. Hearing that the Crown Prince had specifically asked for his aid, the resistance and gloom in his heart already dissipated by more than half.

Seeing the little Crown Prince’s expression downcast, he then understood: “He makes things difficult for Your Highness?”

Zhao Yen only shook her head with a smile, bearing an air of patient endurance.

Pei Sa felt responsibility rise unbidden in his chest, and spoke directly: “Understood. Though this subject does not like Your Highness’ frailty, yet duty must be fulfilled—there is no shrinking from it.”

Zhao Yen’s face showed moved gratitude. When Pei Sa turned and entered the hall ahead, she then turned to Liuying who waited outside the hall and said: “Physician Zhang’s medicinal tea—brew a cup for Gu.”

If she remembered correctly, today’s martial lesson was again riding and archery.

What Zhao Yen dreaded most was this class, for it was unlike strategy or games of chess that required only sitting. The teaching unavoidably involved bodily contact. It was better to be prepared with an extra precaution.

Frowning, she drank down the bitter tea. When her pulse had shifted, Zhao Yen’s steps grew much lighter as she reentered the hall.

Wenren Lin had not gone to the practice ground behind Chongwen Hall.

The desks within the hall had already been moved aside, leaving an open space. Wenren Lin was staring at the chair Zhou Ji had sat in, and drawled: “Throw out this filthy thing for this prince.”

The steward eunuch wiped his cold sweat, nodding and bowing as he ordered a young eunuch to carry the chair out, replacing it with the one Wenren Lin had just occupied.

Meanwhile, Shizi Pei, who had entered the hall earlier, now had heavy sandbags tied to his waist and legs, holding a cup of tea in the corner while squatting in a horse stance, fine beads of sweat already seeping from the tip of his nose.

“What is this about?” Zhao Yen asked Li Fu in astonishment.

She had only gone to drink a cup of tea—how had her “ally” ended up like this?

Li Fu whispered back: “Perhaps displeased with Prince Su’s lesson today, Shizi Pei sought justice for Your Highness, and volunteered to spar in your stead. And then…”

As he spoke, Li Fu shook his head: “Shizi Pei’s skill is indeed among the best of the younger generation, but unfortunately his opponent was Prince Su. After withstanding dozens of moves, he still fell in defeat. Prince Su said his lower stance was unstable, and he must practice more—thus it is now as you see.”

Even so, Zhao Yen’s good impression of Pei Sa only deepened.

Pei Sa had said before that he disliked the Crown Prince’s excessive forbearance. Yet at the crucial moment, he still stepped forth to shield. This loyalty, not judging others by personal likes and dislikes, was indeed rare and precious in a court where all strove only to protect themselves.

All the more since Wenren Lin was the man who, with one hand, could suppress the rebel general He Hu. To endure dozens of moves against him—even in defeat—was an honor.

A hoarse dragging sound suddenly arose, breaking Zhao Yen’s thoughts.

Wenren Lin raised his hand to grasp the back of the chair, dragging it over to the window’s side. Then he sat down with his back toward Zhao Yen, crossing his long legs and smoothing his robe. The gentle warm sunlight slanted in through the window, half falling upon his handsome profile, half flowing down along the hem of his robe and the tips of his boots, as though draping him with a length of golden gauze.

Such a Wenren Lin was just like at their first meeting in the snow last year—quiet and harmless.

“Grand Preceptor.” Zhao Yen saluted him calmly, without the least panic or attempt to evade.

Wenren Lin lifted his eyes, and his long dark lashes were also dyed with golden radiance.

“It seems His Highness has already thought of how to deal with this prince.”

He smiled with interest, motioning her to step nearer.

Zhao Yen obeyed with a step forward, answering fluently: “How could the Grand Preceptor say so? Gu has said before that Gu will study well and no longer slacken.”

Wenren Lin only laughed softly, his thumb rubbing lightly over the black-iron ring.

Soon, the attendants carried in the weapons needed for teaching—sabers, swords, spears, everything complete.

“The spring cold is biting, the practice ground behind the hall is open on all sides, and it is easy for evil winds to invade the body. There is no need to move. Today I will teach His Highness some simple methods of parrying. In the future, should you encounter danger again, you can at least defend yourself. This is also the Emperor’s will.”

Wenren Lin had already seen through Zhao Yen’s thoughts. He rose and walked to the weapon rack, his fingertips pointing across the blades one by one. “Last time it was His Highness’ fortune, when resisting, to suffer only skin wounds. Next time, if you are still so reckless and heedless…”

He cast her a sidelong glance, half his figure sinking into shadow, and raised a finger to lightly draw it across his own neck.

Such an offhand gesture, yet it made Zhao Yen suddenly turn cold. The thrilling scene of the ambush on the return from the suburban sacrifice crowded back into her mind.

She obediently stretched out her hand and received the light dagger Wenren Lin had chosen for her.

The dagger was icy cold, uncomfortable to hold in her grasp.

Pei Sa was still squatting in the corner, the tea cup in his hand rippling slightly. Wenren Lin seemed to have forgotten there was such a person present, focusing all his attention on dismantling and explaining the movements for Zhao Yen.

On her face Zhao Yen showed “astonished to receive favor,” yet in her heart she secretly gnashed her teeth.

How considerate of Prince Su—giving all his attention to her alone, even in a lesson meant for two.

“When held at knifepoint from behind, one must never recklessly shake the head or struggle.”

With a single hand, Wenren Lin seized Zhao Yen’s wrist that gripped the dagger, easily turning the blade against her own neck. “That movement just now, Your Highness, was wrong…”

Feeling the pulse beneath his fingertip, his tone paused subtly, as if thoughtful.

Zhao Yen knew it was the effect of the medicine in that cup of tea. The corners of her lips lifted as she struggled slightly: “Grand Preceptor instructs Gu alone, but disregards Shizi Pei—would that not be unfair?”

“Such struggling would only provoke the criminal. You must instead press down on my arm with yours, then bend your other elbow and strike backward with all your strength.”

While correcting her posture, Wenren Lin spoke with perfect composure: “The Crown Prince’s Grand Preceptor is naturally responsible only for the Crown Prince. This prince has always been single-minded, unlike His Highness who…”

His low voice came from just behind her ear, pausing as he searched for the word: “…changes allegiance like the morning to Qin and the evening to Chu [inconstant in affections].”

Who changes allegiance like the morning to Qin and the evening to Chu!

Zhao Yen’s elbow struck backward, yet was easily caught by Wenren Lin.

“Not enough force—certain to lose the initiative.”

Wenren Lin restrained her, saying: “Since His Highness’ illness and fright, you have always kept a measure of caution toward people and affairs. But toward that top scholar Zhou, you are especially close and trusting, almost as if you had long known him.”

Zhao Yen’s eyelid twitched, and she feigned ignorance: “Grand Preceptor jests. Gu has been long afflicted with illness, even the study companions are but hastily gathered. In terms of acquaintanceship, all is desolate and sparse—how could Guknow Scholar Zhou? It is only from long admiring his lofty talent and pure integrity that Gu feels respect, nothing more.”

Wenren Lin gave a faint “Mm,” nodding lightly: “His talent is lofty and his integrity pure, while this prince is insidious and cunning, and so one can only avoid me.”

So, you do know it yourself?

Zhao Yen raised her hand to counter, yet he seized even her other hand, forcing both behind her back.

From start to finish, Wenren Lin used only his left hand, while his stronger right arm remained folded behind.

He gazed at the tips of her ears, flushed from anger and frustration, laughter gradually rising in his eyes: “It is said that Scholar Zhou once studied abroad in Huayang—perhaps he met Princess Changfeng there.”

To others, it looked as though Prince Su was only dutifully demonstrating the movements with her. Only Zhao Yen knew the malicious scheming hidden beneath his solemn facade.