“After I went out, the more I thought about it the more wrong it felt. I was worried something had happened to Your Highness, so I planned to turn back and take a look.”

Liu Baiwei’s voice was muffled, not knowing who he was angry at. “Who would have thought I would see him swaggering out of your room!”

Recalling again the faint sounds coming from inside the tent, at that time his whole being nearly split apart!

If it had not been for Liuying appearing in time to drag him back, and also because his ankle hurt unbearably, he would certainly have rushed up to demand a clear explanation.

Zhao Yen looked at Liu Baiwei’s angrily departing back, her mood somewhat complicated.

Liu Baiwei was the ally her elder brother trusted most, and also the first outsider to discern her true identity, like a thread tying together all her memories related to Zhao Yan.

She hesitated for a while, but still chose honesty, lowering her eyelashes and saying softly: “I often regard you as my elder brother himself. I did not tell you about Wenren Lin because I feared you would be disappointed after knowing.”

These words were already a tactful admission. Liu Baiwei was stunned and turned his head back.

“Your Highness and he… did not just begin recently?”

Liu Baiwei was a clever man. Thinking of that period when Zhao Yen was as closed as a clam shell and dejected, his breath suddenly hitched. “After the Flower-Bearing Banquet, Your Highness’s condition was very wrong—was it then?”

Zhao Yen acquiesced.

“Later, when Your Highness had me draw brows and apply makeup, that was also… for him?”

Before Zhao Yen could answer, Liu Baiwei was already so shocked he staggered back two steps. “So in that case, I was not the first man to see Your Highness in the guise of a girl?”

Having concealed it from Liu Baiwei for so long, Zhao Yen did not feel at ease.

At this moment, having confessed, instead she felt a kind of relief as though unburdened, and explained: “At the Flower-Bearing Banquet, I was schemed against by Zhao Yuanyu. It was merely… an accident.”

A booming crash sounded in Liu Baiwei’s mind. He clutched his shattered chest and gasped for breath.

Liu Baiwei had always been flamboyant and ardent. This was the first time Zhao Yen saw him struck so hard he could not speak, and she could not help but feel apologetic, sighing lowly: “I am sorry.”

“Sorry? Why must Your Highness say ‘sorry’?”

Liu Baiwei’s spirit was forcibly jolted back by these two words, his cheeks flushing red with anger as he said, “The one who ought to strip to the waist, bind himself, kneel on the ground and plead guilty—should it not be that shameless wretch who offended his superior?”

Zhao Yen blinked, thinking to herself: In this world, one who could make Wenren Lin kneel and beg pardon probably has yet to appear.

“Was it he who forced Your Highness? Did he threaten Your Highness?”

Liu Baiwei paced back and forth, then asked again.

“No.”

Zhao Yen gave a helpless smile. Strictly speaking, that time, it was she who had forced Wenren Lin.

“How can Your Highness still smile?” Liu Baiwei was more indignant than if he himself had been humiliated.

Zhao Yen raised her finger to her chin, her long eyelashes lowered, covering the small crimson mole at the corner of her eye. In a soft voice she said: “I only feel that emperors often favor noble daughters of various clans in order to balance the court. In the end it is merely exchanging the dew of favor for benefits. Since that is so, why cannot I also do so?”

After speaking, she herself was taken aback. The long-hidden knot in her heart seemed rinsed by a clear spring, suddenly opening wide.

In terms of power and influence, in the world who could compare to Prince Su? So many people longed in vain for him to pause his steps. If she could make him her subject beneath her skirts, what shameful or humiliating thing would that be?

“But it cannot be him!”

Liu Baiwei rolled up his sleeves and said, “This person is dangerous and crafty, vicious to the extreme. Looking across all the youths of Wuling, the civil officials and military generals, which one is not more docile and suitable than he? Even I…”

The Crown Prince’s only younger sister, the peerlessly proud Princess of Changfeng—how could Wenren Lin, a mere treacherous minister, lay a finger on her?!

Liu Baiwei’s chest was so choked with anger it was hard to breathe, but even more so he was filled with regret.

If only he had earlier confessed his true identity as a man—if only he had guarded the Princess of Changfeng day and night with a steadfast heart—would he not have been able to protect her brightness as before? Would these terrible entanglements and accidents not have happened?

Liu Baiwei deflated and drooped, leaning against a pillar in a daze, muttering: “In the future, when I see Zhao Yan, how should I explain this to him…”

Unlike Zhao Yan’s gentleness and forbearance, Liu Baiwei could speak only a few words before being angered to the point of exploding. He looked arrogant and noisy, but in truth every word was to shield her—truly a sharp mouth with a soft heart.

The wind swept across a thousand mountains, the clouds dispersed completely.

Warm light spread in Zhao Yen’s eyes. She said seriously: “Do not worry. When we see Zhao Yan in the future, I will personally explain to him.”

In the pavilion, Cai Tian reported in detail the conversation he had overheard by the corridor.

“Is that so? Just an accident.”

Wenren Lin savored Zhao Yen’s recent words, his cold, pale, handsome face showing little emotion. “The little princess even wishes to imitate the emperors, taking this prince as a bargaining chip for clinging to profit…”

He laughed softly to himself. Beneath the solitary pavilion, the bamboo curtain swayed, the distant indigo mountains also becoming blurred.

In his mind, Wenren Lin could not help but recall the scene of the two of them earlier, coming together laughing brightly. Such relaxed and radiant smiles had never once been shown when facing him.

Even little hands had been held—very good.

Turning his head away to leave together with that Liu fellow, and after a quarter of an hour still not coming back to admit fault—truly her wings had grown hard.

With so many buzzing bees and fluttering butterflies around her, no wonder she had said “first choice” rather than “only one.”

Wenren Lin stroked the jade-inlaid ring on his forefinger. Suddenly his chest throbbed with a familiar stabbing pain, spreading out like shallow ripples.

Was the poison flaring again?

He raised his hand and pressed it, feeling that fleeting aftershock, his thin lips pale to the point of nearly colorless.

Wenren Lin waited the time it takes to steep a cup of tea, his gaze falling toward the empty corridor below. Very well. He had already given her the chance.

After a long time, Wenren Lin turned and said slowly: “The day after tomorrow we set out to return to the palace. As for that Liu fellow—no need to keep him.”

Seeing the gorgeous dark hue spreading in his eyes, Cai Tian was startled.

There was still nearly a ten-day period before the poison would flare again, so why was the prince’s complexion already so pale and terrifying?

…

On the day of returning to the palace, the weather was fine, white clouds rising from the valleys. The long line of men carrying boxes and trunks stretched endlessly.

Although Zhao Yen had lived in Yuquan Palace for only a short twenty days, in these twenty days what she had seen and what had happened surpassed the past half year, as if climbing from the foot of the mountain to its waist—no longer blinded by a single leaf. Though there was still mist, her vision was broader and deeper.

Now she was about to return to the imperial city, to the days of traveling back and forth only between Chongwen Hall and the Eastern Palace. She truly felt a bit reluctant.

“Where is Lady Liu?” Zhao Yen glanced at the orderly rows of palace attendants and carriages, but did not see Liu Baiwei.

Could it be the blow was so great that after a day of seclusion he was still sulking?

Liuying stepped forward, fanning herself, and replied: “Just now I sent Li Fu to Tingyu Pavilion to ask. He said things have not yet been tidied up. The sun is growing hot—Your Highness should board the carriage first.”

Zhao Yen nodded her assent. Just as she was about to board the Eastern Palace carriage, she saw Cai Tian drive up with another, more spacious carriage. He bowed to her and said: “May the Crown Prince’s Highness condescend to ride this one.”

Zhao Yen recognized that this was Wenren Lin’s carriage, so she instructed Liuying: “Leave my carriage for Lady Liu. His leg is still injured, my carriage is a bit more comfortable.”

Liuying obeyed, supporting Zhao Yen as she boarded the carriage of Prince Su’s residence.

Inside, the embroidered cushions were soft and plump, the Shu brocade curtains faintly glowing. On the long table were placed an incense burner and an ice chest, the light fragrance mingling with threads of coolness, spreading out in the air—unspeakably pleasant.

Yet Wenren Lin was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is your lord?” Zhao Yen was puzzled and lifted the carriage curtain to ask.