Only when night was fully fallen did Li Fu return, hurried, shoes caked with mud, silently merging back into the attendants behind Zhao Yen.

After escorting Eldest Princess Shoukang and her party out of the palace to return to their residence, Zhao Yen boarded the sedan to go back to the Eastern Palace.

Having run about all day and sweated through her clothes, Zhao Yen bathed thoroughly with delight. With both hands she gathered her half-dried long hair and casually tied it atop her head, then draped on her robe and returned to the sleeping hall, where Li Fu, already cleaned up, awaited outside.

Zhao Yen dismissed the attendants and asked: “Did you discover anything?”

“Reporting to Your Highness, the Tongtian Terrace is guarded at all times by Daoists. Observing their steps and bearing, all are skilled practitioners; this slave truly could not approach to search for evidence. However…”

Li Fu stepped forward, cautiously saying, “However, this slave heard them mention something about ‘the timber not being quite right,’ so I slipped into the timber shed of the Zhaixing Terrace to take a look, and indeed found a problem.”

Speaking thus, Li Fu presented a palm-sized corner piece of nanmu to Zhao Yen.

Zhao Yen received the piece of wood and examined it. At first she did not perceive anything unusual, until Li Fu reminded her; only then did she notice something amiss with the color and scent.

Bringing it close to smell, she could faintly detect a damp, decaying odor.

It was aged timber, soaked by days of torrential rain, now fit only to be discarded. Yet the silver funds allocated by the court had clearly been sufficient to purchase the finest new timber. Where that vast difference in funds had gone—it was obvious without need for thought.

This was a very good breakthrough point. Yet Zhao Yen also knew how difficult it was to move her Imperial Father’s arm; with the slightest misstep, the whole game would be lost.

She must plan carefully, and strike with one decisive blow.

Zhao Yen lowered her gaze in concentration, slowly turning the cold, damp piece of old timber in her palm. The Eastern Palace now held no real power in court affairs. To bring down the Shen Guang Sect, she must choose the proper moment of time and circumstance.

And looking over the near future, the only opportunity that fit was…

At this thought, Zhao Yen glanced at the lotus-pattern jade pendant, still unpolished, lying on the desk. In her rippling peach-blossom eyes flickered a trace of struggle.

If she truly did this, Imperial Mother would surely be disappointed, would she not?

Time quietly flowed past. Zhao Yen and Li Fu held their breath, awaiting the next command.

After a long while, Zhao Yen clenched the nanmu in her hand, as though she had undergone a battle of heaven and man, and said wearily: “Take my personal letter, and go to the residences of Censor He and Assistant Minister Cen of the Ministry of War. There is no need to say what the matter is. Once they read the letter, they will understand.”

Now she could only gamble on the favors she had accumulated in the Jinyun Villa case.

Prince Su’s residence, the book pavilion.

Cai Tian stepped through the puddles at the foot of the stairs, and said to the man leaning before the crane-headed lamp: “My lord, the spies report that those people, pressed to desperation, have indeed begun to act.”

Wenren Lin put down the book in his hand. His face, pale with red lips, held more color than usual.

A dangerous color.

Cai Tian calculated the days, lowering his voice: “Does my lord intend to go once to the Yuquan Palace?”

Yet in his heart Cai Tian also knew clearly, his lord had already gone to the Yuquan Palace two months in succession. If there were a third time, surely those with ill intent would seize upon it.

As expected, Wenren Lin gave no answer. His frost-white knuckles lightly tapped, then he rose and said: “Prepare the carriage. To the Eastern Palace.”

Half a moon hid among the clouds. Within the Eastern Palace sleeping hall, lamps shone bright.

Wenren Lin, hands clasped behind him, walked to the doorway, hearing from within the hall the sound of someone hurriedly rummaging for objects.

Upon stepping into the hall, he saw the little Highness with her damp hair loosely bound, sitting properly behind the desk reading at night, her slender white neck bowed, bearing a look of diligence as if burning the midnight oil.

Wenren Lin glanced at her chest rising and falling rapidly, and knew she was only cramming at the last moment to cope, and could not help but curve his lips faintly.

He walked over, bent down, and lightly shifted Zhao Yen’s fingers aside, drawing out from beneath the spread-open scroll a lotus-pattern jade pendant, smoothly polished.

“Your Highness has lately been neglecting studies, busying yourself with this instead?” Wenren Lin asked.

Since she had been discovered, Zhao Yen no longer disguised it, but said with a tone of breaking the jar: “Yes. I am not as learned as the Crown Prince. For Mother Empress’s birthday gift, I could only think to give this.”

Wenren Lin stroked the somewhat unskilled carving lines of the jade pendant. After a while, he uttered: “It will do, I suppose.”

Why did he put on such a reluctant expression?

Zhao Yen, annoyed, rose to snatch back the jade pendant from Wenren Lin’s hand, returning it into the brocade box.

Just as she was about to close it, Wenren Lin, sharp-eyed, caught sight of something, and raised his palm to press the box shut.

“This also… is for the Empress’s birthday gift?”

His long-boned fingers pinched at Zhao Yen’s fingertips, drawing out from the box another piece of mutton-fat jade, three fingers wide.

When this pendant fell into Wenren Lin’s hand, Zhao Yen hurried to seize it back. Yet Wenren Lin, tall of body and long of limb, raised his hand so she could not reach, and she nearly stumbled into his arms.

Wenren Lin loosely encircled Zhao Yen’s waist with one hand, keeping her from falling in her urgency, while the other lifted the jade above his head to meet the light. There, carved upon the pendant, was a small four-clawed beast, looking odd and grotesque, not the style of ornament worn by women.

Wenren Lin, rare to frown, clicked his tongue and asked: “What is this thing carved? A dog?”

Zhao Yen, angered, opened her eyes wide and retorted: “What dog? That is clearly a li-nu [狸奴, a cat]!”

This ungainly pattern—was in fact a cat?

“Cat” (māo) is a homophone for “longevity” (mào). Wenren Lin drew her tighter into his arm, his voice warm yet pressing: “This jade, Your Highness means to give to which beloved?”

“…”

Zhao Yen broke free of his hold, sat back at the desk breathless, propped her chin with one hand and said dispiritedly, “If you say it is a dog, then it is a dog. In any case, it is to be given to a dog.”

The light, mocking smile in Wenren Lin’s eyes froze, as though startled.

“Then let it be as if bitten by a dog.”

“This prince is but a dog only. Why must Your Highness be angered at a little dog?”

That night when the little Highness returned the jade piece, their words still lingered by the ear.

Wenren Lin looked at the jade pendant with its youthful carving in his hand, and needed no thought to understand—it had originally been meant for him.

It was the little Highness who, over countless nights, lit the lamp to carve and polish bit by bit.

The jade was of the purest quality; to give it to such an evil ghost as himself was truly a waste of heavenly treasure.

The pure, innocent maiden had poured all her effort into the preparations for this birthday banquet, full of hope, wholly unaware that the feast she arranged with her own hands was from the start a scheme, a fuse to fire.

Truly pitiable.

In Wenren Lin’s eyes surged waves, as he raised a hand to press against the sharp ache in his chest.

“I am not one who fails to understand gratitude… Last time the Grand Preceptor gifted me a rouge horse, so I chanced to carve this jade, thinking to use it as a return gift.”

As she spoke, Zhao Yen’s voice grew fainter and fainter.

She truly did not wish to see Wenren Lin wearing that jade-inlaid ring and jade-hook belt everywhere, forever stirring up those ambiguous memories she ought not recall.

Zhao Yen also knew this piece of jade had not been carved well. She had intended to recarve another and choose a proper moment to present it, but she had not expected Wenren Lin’s eyes to be so sharp, catching her completely unprepared.

She half lowered her eyelids, masking herself as she rustled through two pages of the book, finally regaining composure—

The hall was far too quiet.

From the corner of her eye she glimpsed Wenren Lin, clasping the jade pendant hidden in the shadows, his expression unseen.

Was he despising the poor workmanship? Truly, she should have carved another.

Zhao Yen could not endure such silence. Her back grew gradually rigid, vexed and uneasy.

Clearing her throat, she casually pointed to a line in the book, searching for a topic to break the ice: “This sentence I do not understand. What is meant by ‘red pearl’?”

At last Wenren Lin moved his gaze from the jade pendant, looking toward the line Zhao Yen indicated.

Beneath her slender white fingertip, the four characters “Strike/press upon red pearl (扣其赤珠)” were clearly visible.

In the lamplight her features were exquisite, her eyes so pure—pure to the point that one wished to draw her into an embrace, to lavish affection upon her.

Wenren Lin indeed did just so.

He, with natural ease, hung the jade pendant at his belt, carefully smoothing the dark-blue tassel, and then from behind Zhao Yen leaned down, enclosing her wholly within his arms.

He lifted aside Zhao Yen’s jade belt ornaments, his long frost-white fingers moving downward, telling her the answer through action.

The man’s fingers were cool and firm, with faint calluses.

Zhao Yen was at first startled, then her whole body trembled; the tear mole at the corner of her eye burned scarlet, like a frightened young deer about to leap away.

Wenren Lin pressed her shoulder down with a single palm, his half-lowered lashes lifting, his gaze soul-hooking, spirit-seizing.

“This prince has said, there exists in the world a method that requires neither medicine nor harm to the body.”

Upon his face the lamplight fell lingeringly, his expression devout and intent.

“May I request Your Highness to give it a try.”