The man’s thighs were unyielding, and Zhao Yen blinked her lashes. The description of “cranes entwining necks” suddenly welled into her mind.

She released her legs at once, hurriedly shifting into a kneeling posture. Just as she was about to rise, Wenren Lin pressed one palm against her shoulder.

“Your Highness must sooner or later grow accustomed to the strength of this belt’s binding.”

Wenren Lin lowered his gaze leisurely, his cheek almost brushing hers as he embraced her, freeing one hand to undo the living knot at her wrists. “If you disobey, there will only be more chances to be locked again in the future.”

Once her wrists loosened, Zhao Yen instantly felt a burden lifted, supporting herself to withdraw and rubbing her sore, numbed wrists.

Wenren Lin’s palm dangled the dangling strap. Gazing at the emptiness of his arms, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Zhao Yen knew well she had been “tearing down the bridge after crossing the river.” Attempting to make amends, she said: “Prince Su, weary from your travels, would you care to remain and have some biluo?”

Wenren Lin glanced at her, the line of his lips lifting faintly: “This prince prefers cherry flavor, sweet.”

Having said so, he raised a finger, pointedly pressing against Zhao Yen’s reddened lips.

The touch upon her lips was fleeting. Zhao Yen froze for a moment before realizing that the “cherry” Wenren Lin spoke of was not fruit at all.

She touched her lips. When she raised her eyes again, Wenren Lin had already lifted the curtain and departed in unhurried steps—out through the main doors of Guanyun Hall.

The stone path in the courtyard shone pale, mountain winds brushed the face. Wenren Lin, traveling by night, walked with elegance and leisure.

From the dark beneath the corridor, a figure darted past in disarray. Wenren Lin curved his lips in a cold smile, as if seeing nothing.

…

The height of summer was bright and resplendent. The mountains were lush and verdant, palace towers nestled among them like a celestial retreat from the heat.

Zhao Yen, mindful of Liu Baiwei’s urgent matter from the night before, went after her morning meal along the shaded long corridor, turning toward Tingyu Pavilion.

The windows of Tingyu Pavilion were wide open, revealing the distant stretch of mountain ranges.

Liu Baiwei sat by the window, seeming spiritless. Even the lotus pastries brought especially for him could not stir his appetite. Propping his chin, he recounted the circumstances of meeting Wang Yu last night.

“Cheng Jixing suddenly died within his quarters. Wang Yu was the first to discover him. According to his words, Cheng Jixing, at the time of death, had collapsed face-down upon the desk. The oil lamp had burned out, and before him lay a book, turned halfway through On Feng Shui.”

Liu Baiwei paused, then said gravely: “Cheng Jixing was a man who valued practical action, most averse to the empty and illusory talk of feng shui and deities. This was also the main reason he supported the Crown Prince’s new policies.”

Zhao Yen understood: “Which is to say, by his temperament, it should be impossible for him to have spent an entire night studying On Feng Shui.”

Liu Baiwei nodded: “Wang Yu also perceived something amiss. With Shen Jingming’s prior example, he immediately hid that On Feng Shui, then packed his belongings overnight and fled to Cangzhou.”

Zhao Yen focused her gaze, quickly asking: “Is that book still in existence?”

“Wang Yu… he was ashamed to come see Your Highness. Last night he personally entrusted the book to me.”

As Liu Baiwei spoke, he rummaged from the bottom of a chest in the inner room, bringing out a tightly wrapped small cloth bundle, and set it upon the desk.

Zhao Yen reached out to take it, but Liu Baiwei pressed her hand down at once: “Do not touch it. Wang Yu said there is a faint strange fragrance upon this book. When he was packing, he only handled it for a short while, yet afterward suffered dizziness for many days before recovering. I suspect it must be poisoned.”

Zhao Yen’s heart sank. If this were true, then the method of poisoning was no different from that used in the letter that had plotted against the Crown Prince.

Could it be the same person?

“We must think of some way to test it,” Liu Baiwei said.

Zhao Yen rose and went into the corridor, instructing Gu Xing to summon Zhang Xu, and to bring along as well the evidence previously gathered from Zhao Yuanyu’s alchemy chamber.

Imperial Physician Zhang had long been responsible for regulating the Crown Prince’s health, thus he too was stationed at Yuquan Palace. Within less than two quarters of an hour, he entered carrying his medicine chest, and gave a salute.

As always, Zhang Xu bore the detached and solitary air of a recluse. Only when he received the On Feng Shui volume from Liu Baiwei did a gleam of excitement burst forth in his drooping eyes.

He accepted the scroll, unhesitatingly flipping through it, even raising it to sniff.

Zhao Yen watched in fright, cautioning: “Beware of poison.”

“Your Highness need not worry. This humble minister has been immersed in strange poisons since childhood—there will be no danger to my life.”

Having said so, Zhang Xu’s youthful brows furrowed. “This fragrance… seems familiar.”

“Any clue?” Zhao Yen asked with expectation.

Zhang Xu thought a moment, then shook his head: “I will need time to investigate.”

“This matter is of utmost importance to me. I beg Imperial Physician Zhang to exert all effort for it.”

Zhao Yen’s expression was solemn. She then motioned for Gu Xing to present the medicines and prescriptions retrieved from Zhao Yuanyu’s secret chamber, entrusting: “These as well—please examine them together, to see if there is any common link.”

Zhang Xu was a true fanatic of medicine. Receiving all these troublesome toxic items, he only said: “This humble minister requires a well-ventilated medicine hut, and two assistants for errands.”

“Very well,” Zhao Yen signaled Gu Xing to make the arrangements.

Zhang Xu, as if having obtained treasures, even forgot to offer parting courtesies, turning immediately to follow Gu Xing to the hut and immerse himself in his work.

Only after all had been arranged did Zhao Yen realize that Liu Baiwei’s condition seemed truly not right—his thoughts distracted, as if preoccupied.

“What is it with you?”

She looked at the dark circles beneath Liu Baiwei’s eyes, concern in her tone. “Did you not sleep well last night?”

Liu Baiwei came back to himself, opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again in frustration.

“The sky is overcast—let us go out for a walk,” Zhao Yen suggested, gazing at the idle drifting clouds beyond the window.

In the past, when they discussed countermeasures in the Eastern Palace until weary, she and he would also take walks in the courtyard.

Liu Baiwei had no objection, and followed her out the door, one ahead, one behind, aimlessly emptying their thoughts along the long corridor.

“Your Highness is not afraid?” Liu Baiwei asked.

Zhao Yen knew he was speaking of continuing the investigation. After a moment’s thought, she answered frankly: “At times, a little. And you?”

“Me?”

Liu Baiwei gave a slight laugh. “With the body of a mayfly, to face thunder and lightning head-on—is this not also a delight?”

Zhao Yen also laughed, softly saying: “So am I—my heart is without guilt.”

Liu Baiwei turned his head to look at her for a long while, then suddenly said: “That time in the Eastern Palace, I once told Your Highness: if Zhao Yan were gone, I would protect you in his stead…”

Pausing, he turned his head away. “Your Highness’s elder brother is the Crown Prince. Though saying so may be somewhat presumptuous and arrogant of me, those words were true.”

Liu Ji’s gender was false, but those words were true.

It was only this sentence he wished to tell her.

Though Zhao Yen did not understand why Liu Baiwei suddenly raised this matter, she still nodded and said: “Elder Sister Liu Ji was the first outsider to know my identity, and also the first person I truly trusted. Naturally, what you said was true. I believe it.”

“Truly?”

Liu Baiwei’s expression cleared like clouds parting to reveal the sun, showing a contented smile.

Yet smiling, he suddenly halted as if confronted by a dire enemy.

Zhao Yen wondered why his face had suddenly changed, and was just about to ask, when she saw Liu Baiwei seize her wrist in a tight grip: “Let us take another path.”

Zhao Yen was startled. Instinctively turning back, she discovered a familiar figure standing beneath the pavilion ahead.

Wenren Lin, clad in black robes, stood tall, facing in Zhao Yen’s direction. Whether he was looking at her, or at the green mountains stretching behind her, could not be discerned.

A chill rose along Zhao Yen’s spine, an ominous foreboding surging forth.

She tried to pull her wrist free, but Liu Baiwei’s grip was far too firm.

Only after they had turned away for more than ten zhang did they finally come to a halt. Zhao Yen frowned: “Liu Baiwei, what is the matter with you?”

Cicadas droned, weary. With his back to Zhao Yen, Liu Baiwei stopped in place.

For a long time, he panted out the truth: “Last night, I saw him coming out from your chambers.”