Exa… examine what?

“Next time, this prince will personally examine Her Highness’s injury.”

Recalling the words he had spoken in the Chongwen rear hall that afternoon, words carrying hidden meaning, Zhao Yen unconsciously pinched the edge of her sleeve.

She had not expected that Wenren Lin would mean what he said and actually come.

The door behind her closed. Zhao Yen caught the clean woody scent from Wenren Lin’s robes.

She stepped back half a step, pressed against the door panel, and said hoarsely: “I have already followed the Grand Preceptor’s instructions, there is no need for examination, and… it is inconvenient.”

“Today’s matters should be completed today. Merely examining the lesson left over from noon—what inconvenience is there?”

At this point, Wenren Lin’s voice paused subtly.

As if realizing something, he lowered his gaze, withdrew his hand, a trace of amusement spreading in his eyes: “…What does Her Highness think it is that I am examining?”

The casual tone was deliberately drawn out, low and unhurried.

Zhao Yen could not conceal her embarrassment. Before the heat rose to her cheeks, she slipped past Wenren Lin, went to the desk, and sat down properly.

Her movement was somewhat too large. She furrowed her brows ever so slightly, then immediately, as though to cover it up, picked up the brush, pretending to focus on copying the unfinished essay—yet even forgot to moisten the ink.

A shadow fell before her. Wenren Lin had walked over and taken the unstable purple brush from her hand.

“Her Highness has reminded this prince indeed.”

From behind her, Wenren Lin leaned down. The brush twirled between his well-boned fingers before he set it back on the rack. “Have you applied the medicine properly?”

Her hand empty, Zhao Yen curled her fingertips uneasily and said softly: “I have applied it.”

“Inside?” Wenren Lin asked offhandedly.

Zhao Yen choked, turned her gaze aside, and said: “It is already healed.”

That instant of evasive glance did not escape Wenren Lin’s eyes.

And seeing her slightly stiff posture, he understood in his heart.

“Lying.”

Wenren Lin slowly withdrew his hand, his voice lower by a shade: “Go to the couch.”

Thanks to yesterday’s detoxification, now whenever Zhao Yen heard words like “bed,” “couch,” she instinctively shrank back.

She blinked hesitantly, sat stiffly without moving, carrying out her bury-one’s-head-in-the-sand mentality to the fullest.

Wenren Lin picked up a square handkerchief, nonchalantly wiping his hands at the side. “Tomorrow when entering the palace to face His Majesty, I fear the Emperor will again ask which young lady caught this prince’s eye at the Flower-Pinning Banquet.”

He lifted his eyes, words carrying implication: “Does Her Highness think this prince should answer truthfully?”

Zhao Yen immediately rose, walked in two or three steps to the couch, and sat down quickly, without the least hesitation.

She pinched her fingers, her expression obedient and docile, yet sparks almost leapt from her eyes, silently gnashing her teeth in her heart: Fine, you’ve grasped this palace’s handle! Must you bring it up to threaten me at every turn!

Listening to the movements on the couch, Wenren Lin’s smile deepened. After unhurriedly wiping his hands clean, he opened a brocade box he had casually brought along.

Inside the brocade box, padded with soft silk, there flowed a faint, warm luster.

Zhao Yen still wished to look more closely, but Wenren Lin was already carrying that box around the carved moon gate. Lifting the curtain, he said: “Is that medicine still with you?”

Zhao Yen was silent for a moment, then took out from her sleeve the small white-jade medicine box, holding it between her slender fingers.

Wenren Lin smiled, casually dragged over a round-backed chair beside the small table, and sat down before Zhao Yen, placing the brocade box in his hand gently upon the couch-side table.

By the warm glow of the gauze lamp, Zhao Yen clearly distinguished that inside the box were several smooth jade strips, each about a finger long and as thick as a little finger, their color pure without the least impurity.

“At noon this prince saw Her Highness going out, her steps still slightly stiff, and thus guessed that Her Highness could not put down her pride to apply the medicine properly. It so happened there was a piece of fine soft jade in the Prince’s residence storeroom, extremely warm and delicate. Thinking it useful for Her Highness’s recovery, this prince personally ground it and brought it here.”

Just as Zhao Yen was puzzled how jade strips could be used to heal injuries, Wenren Lin, his expression unchanging, took one from the box. With his other hand, he set aside the medicine box Zhao Yen held and opened it with a single hand…

Zhao Yen’s eyes widened suddenly. Could it be that this jade strip was really meant as she thought?!

So-called checking lessons—he had clearly come prepared!

Wenren Lin turned his face, casting a glance at Zhao Yen, who sat with her attire neat and proper.

Realizing what he was waiting for…

Zhao Yen pressed her knees together, attempting to struggle: “I will do it myself.”

Wenren Lin asked calmly: “Will Her Highness find the right place?”

“Then… let Liuying do it.”

“If Her Highness were willing to let another see herself in such a state, how would it have dragged on until now?”

Wenren Lin’s voice was light yet deep, piercing straight through: “That palace maid, no matter how considerate, is still a person of Kunning Palace.”

Zhao Yen felt the dignity she had forced up instantly seen through, exposing her flustered and embarrassed inner self.

She was the legitimate princess of the Great Xuan, with her own pride. The pain deep within seemed like a mocking of her powerlessness—she could not face it, nor admit to her failure.

She was accustomed to digesting emotions alone, never having thought of relying on anyone, not even Liuying.

Zhao Yen’s eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings, clutching her clothing all the tighter.

Even though she and Wenren Lin had already shared the most intimate of acts, she still could not cross that barrier in her heart.

Yesterday, caught in the scheme, her mind had been unclear, and naturally there had been no such things as propriety or restraint. But now, to be sincere in such a moment—what would that even mean?

Seeing her motionless for so long, Wenren Lin’s gaze moved from her pale, restrained face downward, landing on her tightly clenched, whitening knuckles.

It seemed as though, should he say one more word, her eyes would redden.

She had just bathed, wearing only a thin, loose spring robe. At her waist was not a formal leather belt, but a moon-white silk sash four fingers wide, tied loosely.

Wenren Lin lifted a finger to hook the knot of the sash and gave it a gentle tug.

Zhao Yen started, only to feel the clothing at her waist loosen instantly.

She thought Wenren Lin had run out of patience and would act directly. Just as her heartbeat grew chaotic, Wenren Lin merely laid that untied sash lightly across the back of her hand.

“This prince holds the medicine in hand, not very convenient. Might I trouble Her Highness to deign to blindfold this prince.”

Seeing Zhao Yen’s astonishment, he leaned back into the chair slowly, uncharacteristically offering two sentences of explanation: “This prince is not a lustful man. Becoming entangled with Her Highness muddle-headed was truly an accident. There is no need for Her Highness to guard against this prince as though guarding against a thief. What should be seen, this prince has already seen. What Her Highness does not wish this prince to see—this prince… has no interest.”

He spoke with such open composure, as though Zhao Yen’s fluster and loss of the past two days were nothing but a petty person troubling herself.

With things said to this extent, to keep hesitating would be nothing but affectation.

At last Zhao Yen lifted her stiff arm, grasped that sash, and knelt upright.

Wenren Lin leaned forward cooperatively, gently closing his eyes.

Clearly a submissive action, yet upon him it carried another kind of solemn purity, one not to be profaned.

Zhao Yen pressed her lips together, then laid the moon-white silk sash across his deep brows and eyes, tying it behind his head.

Fearing there might be gaps in the blindfold, she deliberately pulled it tight and added another knot. At once she heard Wenren Lin give a muffled hum, raising a brow: “Is Her Highness seeking private revenge, trying to strangle this prince?”

If only I could.

Zhao Yen secretly regretted: too bad she could not defeat him. She feared that before she could tighten it around his neck, he would already have snapped her life.

After a slight rustling sound, the blindfolded Wenren Lin tilted his head a little: “Finished?”

Sitting on the couch’s edge, Zhao Yen nodded, then realized he could not see, so she softly replied: “Mm.”

One hand holding the jade smeared with ointment, Wenren Lin reached forward to touch Zhao Yen’s ankle, then traced along her calf upward.

His palm was rather large, the joints exceedingly long. Yet unlike a scholar’s refined hand, the slightly raised veins upon the back of his hand gave it a sense of power, as if he could control everything with ease.

Zhao Yen unconsciously fell back, hastily propping herself on her elbow.