Shaoyuan, it was not that the youth was erudite and knowledgeable.

But rather that in his youth he had already fallen into the deep abyss, walking within the dark night.

Zhao Yen recalled that when she had just returned to the Eastern Palace, she had ordered Liuying to gather that register of the court’s pillar ministers. Within it, the information concerning Wenren Lin’s background was but a thin page.

Yet that single page—every word pierced the eyes, every line shook the heart.

In the tenth year of Tianyou, a lone city was besieged. The Wenren father and his three sons led one hundred thousand soldiers to fight to the bitter end, building a wall of flesh and blood, safeguarding the peace of the people of thirteen cities behind them. Beneath rolling black clouds, swords snapped, banners broke, corpses lay across the wilds.

It was said that when General Wenren died in battle, he still maintained the stance of standing with sword in hand, frightening the northern Yi enemy troops from daring to advance, until Huo Feng led reinforcements to arrive. With tears, he retrieved the broken sword from General Wenren’s hand, and only then did that statue-like tall, broken body collapse with a crash.

The Wenren family’s eldest son Wenren Cang, second son Wenren Mu, perished in succession. The sixteen-year-old youngest son Wenren Lin, when dug out from the mountain of corpses, had only one final breath left to cling to life.

Why the imperial reinforcement orders had been delayed until too late—now it was already impossible to know.

At the end of last year, Zhao Yen had also secretly ordered Gu Xing to investigate in detail the inner circumstances of the Battle of Yanluo Pass, attempting to probe Wenren Lin’s purpose in order to protect herself. Yet strangely, the supervisory generals and censors involved in that battle had all already died; there was utterly no way to verify.

No one knew what Wenren Lin had truly experienced during those two months of entrapment in the lone city. His heart was just as the style name he chose for himself—an abyss without measure, bottomless to the eye.

Her heart seemed to be lightly tugged.

Zhao Yen unconsciously turned her head; her lips almost brushed across Wenren Lin’s cheek.

She very much wished to ask more, concerning the battle of Yanluo Pass, concerning Wenren Lin’s past.

She lightly parted her lips, pondering how to phrase her words. Yet Wenren Lin released her hand that had been holding the brush, his palm with clearly defined tendons pressing against the desk, half-enveloping her within the crook of his arm.

It was a posture that seemed like bending low to inquire, and yet carried a closeness, an oppression.

“Now, it is my turn to ask Your Highness.”

His forefinger lightly tapped the edge of the desk. “Have you finished studying the books?”

The topic circled back. Zhao Yen’s heart grew guilty, and she could only fumble to delay: “Let us ask again when back in the Eastern Palace. The Chongwen Hall is the place where the Crown Prince studies the warp and weft of statecraft. To ask about those things, I fear, would insult the dignity of letters.”

Wenren Lin slanted his eyes at her, lightly and blandly: “Since this prince has already insulted Your Highness, why still care about the dignity of letters?”

The faint desolate pain that had just surged up in Zhao Yen’s heart instantly scattered; annoyed, she slapped the brush down, leaving a crooked ink mark upon the xuan paper.

Lately, when she returned to the Eastern Palace she only wanted to collapse into sleep, never once opening a book. As for those methods of health preservation Wenren Lin asked about, naturally she could answer very few.

Thus Wenren Lin used her body as demonstration, one by one pointing out the xue points for warming the palace.

His face was utterly serious; his knuckles, through the cloth, touched and left at once, his conduct not frivolous nor deliberate. Yet Zhao Yen was still tossed about until her lips were red and her face flushed.

This place was, after all, the Chongwen Hall, not the sleeping palace of the Eastern Palace.

Once it was almost enough, Wenren Lin then curved his lips in a smile, nonchalantly picking up He Zong to continue his explanation.

…

On a summer night, suddenly a thunderclap roared, and a torrential rain swept in without warning.

For half a month no sun was seen. Memorials reporting floods from all over poured in, piling high upon the long desk of the Taihe Hall.

Within the court, arguments over disaster relief grain and funds resounded unceasingly. Even the Empress herself voluntarily reduced the scale of the birthday banquet, making everything simple. Within the palace, they hated that a tael of silver could not be split into two to use. Only the construction of the Zhaixing Observatory still proceeded in full heat, striving to reach the roof before year’s end.

The family of the Eldest Princess Shoukang had their journey delayed by the torrential rains and floods. Not until the beginning of the seventh month did they arrive in the capital. Once they had been properly settled in the Eldest Princess’ residence, they were to enter the palace to pay respects to the Emperor and the Empress.

Outside the palace gates, a pool of rainwater reflected the flowing clouds in the sky.

Zhao Yen, dressed in the Eastern Palace Crown Prince’s purple robe and golden crown, personally welcomed her aunt, the Eldest Princess Shoukang, down from the carriage.

Bronze bells jingled, and before the resplendent canopy carriage had come to a full stop, the curtain was lifted by a delicate hand.

“Elder Brother Crown Prince!”

Princess Changle, Huo Zhenzhen, with a light golden gauze shawl over her shoulders, jumped down from the carriage. Stepping across a small puddle, she hurriedly ran over, the golden bells at her waist jingling brightly with her lively steps, smiling as she threw herself into Zhao Yen’s arms.

The soft fragrance of the maiden in his embrace overflowed; Zhao Yen was knocked back a step and barely managed to steady herself.

Involuntarily surprised: that lotus-root dumpling who in childhood was always bickering and pulling hairpins with her, had actually grown into such a fresh and lovely girl?

The golden and jade bracelets at Huo Zhenzhen’s wrist clinked against one another as she slightly retreated half a step, her words spilling forth like a string of firecrackers: “The whole area of Luo Prefecture was flooded everywhere, I nearly thought I wouldn’t make it to the capital in time! Oh, right, I heard that Crown Prince Elder Brother’s fox-spirit Liu is gone, is it true? Hmph, daring to steal my Crown Prince Elder Brother, it seems to be retribution!”

Then she planted her hands on her waist, declaring proudly: “Crown Prince Elder Brother, I held my hairpin ceremony last month, why didn’t you write me a letter? I also want the golden hairpin personally crafted by Crown Prince Elder Brother. Whatever Zhao Yen has, I must also have!”

Zhao Yen smiled at this cousin’s chatter arranging her own affairs, her eyelids twitching as she endured it, when a clear, cold female voice came from behind: “Zhenzhen, you are already a grown young lady, do not behave as unruly as when you were a child.”

At the sound, Zhao Yen turned to look, and saw a noble beauty with glittering ornaments in her hair alight from the carriage with the help of a maid, followed closely by General Huo, carefully protecting her.

Zhao Yen restrained her expression, saluted respectfully, and said: “Your nephew Zhao Yan greets Aunt and Uncle.”

The noblewoman only slightly nodded, then turned her gaze away, walking directly over to Huo Zhenzhen to gently tidy her hair that had come loose from running.

Huo Feng cupped his hands in return, breaking the awkwardness: “This minister Huo Feng pays respects to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

The Eldest Princess, entering the palace, was first to meet the Emperor and Empress. Zhao Yen personally led her uncle and aunt toward the Ziyun Pavilion where guests were received. Along the way, the husband and wife said not a word; fortunately, the sparrow-like Huo Zhenzhen chattered unceasingly, so the atmosphere was not too heavy.

Zhao Yen glanced at the slightly aloof Eldest Princess Shoukang ahead, then turned her head and quietly asked Liuying: “Just now, did I fail in some point of propriety that angered Aunt?”

Liuying lowered her voice and swiftly replied: “Last spring, His Highness insisted on bringing back Concubine Liu. When Princess Changle learned of it, she made a scene crying in the Eastern Palace, and afterward, out of spite, left the capital.”

Zhao Yen understood—her aunt was supporting her daughter.

As for whether Huo Zhenzhen was truly enamored with Zhao Yan, that was not necessarily so; it was merely the affection of childhood companions, coupled with jealousy that Zhao Yen had a broad-minded, gentle elder brother, while she did not. Thus she exerted all her strength to also obtain such gentleness.

And Zhao Yen, from a young age, envied her uncle and aunt’s deep conjugal love, pouring all their affection upon Huo Zhenzhen—this was, in her heart, the most perfect image of father and mother.

The two children envied each other, unable to see eye to eye, and Zhao Yan thus became the coveted bun caught in the struggle between them.

Recalling it now, she only found it both laughable and sigh-inducing.

After dining in the palace, Huo Zhenzhen once again clung to the “Crown Prince,” insisting on going to the cherry garden in the Western Park for a stroll.

Zhao Yen, fretting that she lacked an excuse to approach the Shen Guang Sect, smiled and said: “Now the cherries are out of season; there is nothing much to see in the Western Park. Rather, in the Northern Park, the land is broad and the scenery pleasant. I will take the Princess there for a walk?”

Huo Zhenzhen, unsuspecting, happily agreed.

The evening glow, like rouge, dyed half the sky; unknown birds flapped their wings and swept across. In the Northern Park, the palaces destroyed by wind and thunder had already been torn down and rebuilt; the foundations expanded several times over, the frames erected like the bones of a giant beast standing tall. In contrast, the artisans and palace attendants carrying loads to and fro appeared as insignificant as ants.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, up ahead the piles of stone and timber are like mountains, truly dangerous. We must ask you to halt.”

The supervising official from the Ministry of Works made a bow with an apologetic smile. “Do not speak of some blind fool colliding with you—even if a small stone were to tumble down, this petty one could not bear the responsibility.”

Zhao Yen, with good temper, responded: “Very well, we will only look from afar.”

Saying this, she lightly covered her lips with a cough, giving Li Fu behind her a glance.

A convoy of carts carrying timber rumbled past. When it had departed, Li Fu’s figure was no longer to be seen; no one noticed that by the “Crown Prince’s” side, an inconspicuous little eunuch was missing.