Zhao Yen rose on tiptoe and stretched out her hand as far as she could. The branch she had chosen swayed in the wind, yet stubbornly would not be touched by her.

Sweat beaded at the tip of her nose. Just as she was about to trouble Cai Tian to fetch a small stool, she suddenly felt her waist tighten.

In the next instant her whole body rose into the air, lifted by a pair of strong and powerful arms into midair, her head brushing into a canopy of green shade and red silk.

The veiled hat was swept off by the branches, drifting down like smoke. Zhao Yen turned back in astonishment, and saw Wenren Lin easily supporting her.

His stature was extremely tall, his arm strength exceedingly steady, not even the slightest tremor or sway. His dark eyes carried a leisurely shallow smile as he looked at her: “Enough? Shall I raise you a bit higher?”

Speaking thus, he hoisted her up again, as if to lift her even higher.

Zhao Yen’s face flushed, her heart pounding. She hastily said again and again: “Enough, enough!”

She turned her head away, devoutly and attentively tying the red ribbon to that vacant branch, carefully smoothing it.

When she had finished her task, Wenren Lin at last withdrew his arms, letting her settle lightly and steadily upon the ground.

Zhao Yen’s heart rose and fell with it, unable to calm for a long while.

“What did you write?” Wenren Lin’s deep voice came beside her ear.

Though he had let her toes touch the ground, he still did not release that slender waist which could not fill a hand, but only shifted to loosely encircle it.

Zhao Yen’s ear grew numb, she turned her face aside with a shiver and softly said: “You are so tall, just look yourself.”

Wenren Lin let out a laugh, lifted his gaze, and saw the red ribbon tied by the little princess fluttering in the wind, the delicate small characters faintly visible.

“This branch must not be hung with anything else.”

Wenren Lin ordered Cai Tian.

Zhao Yen was startled at his forcefulness, both vexed and amused. Pressing her lips, she said: “There is no need for such. Leaving it empty looks unsightly instead.”

“Not empty.”

Wenren Lin’s dark eyes held a smile. He pinched her waist at the side and said, “Hereafter, this prince shall hang his own name beside it.”

Zhao Yen raised her eyes, not knowing whether he spoke in jest or in earnest.

—

Marquis of Ningyang’s Manor.

Rong Fuyue, supported by her maidservant’s arm, alighted from the carriage and returned to the residence, yet saw Wei Yan—who was supposed to have entered the palace for affairs—had already come back first, gazing at the moon in the courtyard.

Seeing his wife return, Wei Yan smiled gently, stepping forward to greet her: “A’Yue, you are back.”

He did not ask where she had gone, as if so long as she could return to his side, he sought nothing else. Rong Fuyue stood there in a daze, after a moment, with guilt, said: “Forgive me, I—”

“Foolish A’Yue, I told you, no matter what you do to me, you will never need to apologize.”

Wei Yan drew his wife into his embrace, soothingly stroking the hair at her temples, his voice gentle: “Are you hungry? I had the kitchen prepare your favorite lotus pastries, will you try one?”

Rong Fuyue’s beautiful eyes brimmed with tears. She nodded lightly: “Alright.”

—

Half a month before the Crown Prince’s birthday, tributes of congratulations had already been sent one after another to the Eastern Palace.

On the day of the birthday itself, the gates were thronged like a marketplace, and great and small gifts nearly filled the entire courtyard.

Though Zhao Yen had earnestly memorialized for the birthday to be kept simple, according to propriety it was still necessary to hold a small banquet in the western inner court, gathering with the Emperor and Empress and the various princesses and imperial kinsmen.

“After the congratulatory gifts are tallied, return each with an added bolt of gold-thread gauze, following the same rule as was in the Crown Prince’s Mansion before.”

Zhao Yen adjusted the jade coronet fastening her hair before the bronze mirror, lowered her gaze and pondered a moment, then instructed Liuying: “Before those congratulatory gifts are returned, be sure to inspect them carefully, guard against someone playing a dark trick, tampering with the gifts.”

Liuying seemed to recall the reason why Crown Prince Zhao Yan had met his death, her voice lowered: “This servant understands.”

The banquet was set at the side of the Penglai Court. Aside from the household of Eldest Princess Shoukang, there were also the two illegitimate-born princesses not yet married, the young Prince of Yingchuan Liu Baiwei, as well as the companion reader Pei Sa, all present.

The Emperor did not appear, only sending his chief eunuch to deliver a few words of praise and polite phrases. Empress Wei and Consort Zhen were in attendance, seated on opposite sides with no exchange between them.

As the atmosphere grew stagnant, Zhang Cang suddenly led men carrying a chest into the court, and bowed to Zhao Yen: “His Highness Prince Su has specially prepared a humble gift, to congratulate Your Highness’s birthday, may you accept with a smile!”

Everyone craned their necks, eager to see what Wenren Lin had sent with such a great display, even Zhao Yen herself grew curious.

Zhang Cang flipped open the chest at once, revealing inside a full chest… of ancient books and scrolls.

Each volume was a good inch or two thick, hefty enough to serve as bricks if swung about!

This was no “humble” gift—it was exceedingly “substantial”!

That Wenren Lin as Grand Preceptor was perhaps a little too conscientious—this many books, even studying day and night, could never be finished.

Zhao Yen’s head ached at once, pressing her palm, she forced a smile and said: “Many thanks to Prince Su’s kind intention! Gu will certainly be diligent and hardworking, burning the lamp late at night in reading, not failing the expectations of all.”

The last words even carried a trace of clenched-teeth meaning.

“Our Prince has said, Your Highness will surely understand his painstaking good will.”

Saying so, Zhang Cang bowed once more. “His Highness has affairs of state, once concluded, he will personally come to congratulate Your Highness.”

Empress Wei felt no appreciation for what Wenren Lin had sent, and with a glance signaled for the attendants to move that great chest of books farther away.

Palace maids and eunuchs filed in bearing wine and food. One young eunuch, holding wine, bowed his head, eyes lowered, walking hastily. By accident he nearly collided at the Penglai gate with the Marquis of Ningyang and his wife just entering.

Wei Yan instinctively raised his hand to shield Rong Fuyue, but himself was struck by the young eunuch, wine soaking a sleeve.

The young eunuch quickly knelt to beg forgiveness, but Wei Yan only shook his head calmly, indicating: “On the joyous day of the Crown Prince’s birthday, no need to spoil it for a small matter, rise.”

The young eunuch quickly got up, bearing the tray, and hastily entered the seats.

Li Fu led men to inspect each dish and wine presented by the palace attendants, confirming again and again that there was no poison, then dared to present them to the banquet.

Just then, Marquis of Ningyang who had just taken his seat seemed to notice something amiss, uttering a low “Eh?”

“Uncle, what is it?” Zhao Yen, being near, asked in concern.

Wei Yan looked at his now-empty waist, frowned slightly: “The palace token is gone, it was just now still at my side…”

At these words, all faces changed slightly.

The palace token was held by members of the imperial clan, a pass for entering and leaving the palace gates. If it fell into the hands of someone with ill intent, who knew what disaster might be brewed.

“Uncle, do not worry, first recall whom you just encountered, or whether it fell somewhere nearby.”

Saying so, Zhao Yen whispered to Liuying beside her: “Go help search, do not let an incident arise.”

Liuying received the order, leading attendants to search nearby. The guests and guards also spontaneously scoured around their own feet, lest anything be overlooked.

Wei Yan looked at the wine stains upon his sleeve, as if he understood something.

But it was already too late—the young eunuch who had served wine now wore a gloomy face, and from his sleeve drew out a thin dagger, stabbing straight toward Zhao Yen!

“Elder Brother Crown Prince, do you like the inkstone I gave you?”

Huo Zhenzhen came over holding a wine cup to strike up conversation, completely unaware of the cold gleam stabbing toward her side.

By the time the crowd realized something was wrong, it was already too late.

Zhao Yen’s pupils contracted sharply; by instinct she pushed Huo Zhenzhen aside. The cold gleam grazed past Zhao Yen’s sleeve, going straight for her heart.

Yet before the dagger could touch her, it was blocked in time by a blade thrust across.

Zhang Cang had drawn his sword, and with one kick sent the eunuch together with the dagger flying a zhang away, crashing heavily to the ground.

The young eunuch coughed up a mouthful of blood, struggling to support himself. He lifted his eyes—and before him saw a pair of black leather boots.

Following the boots upward, he beheld that face as beautiful as an immortal, and could not help but widen his eyes, trembling…

It was Prince Su who had arrived.