Jing Mu thought, I should do what I’ve always done—pin him down, cover his mouth, keep him from saying such hurtful things.
But looking at Shu Changyu’s expression, he felt as if a hole had been torn open in his chest. A freezing wind howled straight through it, making him shiver.
He couldn’t even lift his hands.
He thought, This man simply has no heart. Or rather, before he had ever met him, his heart had already been filled.
It held his entire family, the empire, the state, and the common people.
Everyone…
Except him.
In the past, as his disciple, he had occupied a place in Shu Changyu’s heart.
But unfortunately, because he was a prince, Shu Changyu was always weighing him against the empire on a balance scale.
And every time he did, Jing Mu became insignificant.
So insignificant that the moment he became an obstacle, Shu Changyu could throw him away without a moment’s hesitation.
An overwhelming sense of helplessness suddenly swallowed Jing Mu.
Shu Changyu was right in front of him. With one reach, he could lock him in his arms. He could imprison him for as long as he wished…
Yet it felt as though countless mountains and rivers separated them, leaving him forever beyond reach.
Something inside Jing Mu collapsed with a thunderous crash.
He said nothing.
Turning around, he slammed the door behind him and left.
“…Lord Jing?” The jailer outside saw him emerge and asked cautiously. “Lord Qian has already been waiting in your study.”
Ever since the night Jing Mu had visited Shu Changyu late and woken him up, he had simply cleared his entire schedule after dinner every evening.
After leaving Shu Changyu’s cell, he would return to his study to handle official business, often working until well past midnight before finally returning to his residence.
As a result, his subordinates had developed the habit of saving their reports until after he came out of Shu Changyu’s prison cell.
Rumors quietly spread through the Court of Judicial Review as well.
People said that although Jing Mu had never studied much, he had a top scholar as his strategist, which was why he managed all the Court’s affairs with such remarkable efficiency. They even claimed that this was the reason Shu Changyu, despite having embezzled so much silver, had still not been dealt with.
Jing Mu merely acknowledged him with a quiet hum. His expression remained unreadable as he turned and headed toward his office within the Court.
When the guard pushed open the door for him, he saw Qian Rubin’s plump figure planted beside his desk, pacing back and forth.
“Your Highness has arrived!” Qian Rubin beamed the moment he saw him and hurried forward.
He had barely begun working for the First Prince before disaster struck and the prince was stripped of his title and reduced to a commoner.
Secretly, Qian Rubin counted himself fortunate.
Although he had been close to the First Prince, he knew absolutely nothing about the imperial examinations.
Still, someone like him—a consummate fence-sitter—naturally panicked once the wall he leaned on collapsed.
At just that time, the Second Prince, Jing Mu, unexpectedly displayed extraordinary ability.
While serving in the Court of Judicial Review, he solved several long-unsolved cases in succession and brought the entire Court into excellent order. Even the Huzhou Imperial Examination case had passed through his hands.
Then Shu Changyu’s case brought them into contact.
Among the princes, Jing Mu was now the only one still active at court, so Qian Rubin naturally took the opportunity to align himself with him.
At first he had been uneasy.
After all, it had been he who had sent Jing Mu’s Grand Tutor into prison.
But judging from the situation now, Jing Mu had allowed his own teacher to remain imprisoned in the Court of Judicial Review for over a month without saying a word.
Apparently, the bond between teacher and student hadn’t been all that deep after all.
Thinking that, Qian Rubin finally relaxed.
Jing Mu merely glanced at him before giving another indifferent hum.
“I heard from the Court officials that Your Highness went to visit Third Young Master Shu?” Qian Rubin stepped closer with a smile. “I truly never imagined he’d do such a thing. Is he… doing well in the Court these days?”
As he asked, he narrowed his small eyes, carefully observing Jing Mu’s reaction.
Jing Mu remained perfectly composed.
Walking to his desk, he sat down, gestured for Qian Rubin to do the same, and asked coolly,
“What brings Minister Qian here today?”
Seeing him deliberately avoid the question, while still wearing that calm, lazy, detached expression, Qian Rubin couldn’t quite read him.
Still, he wisely let the matter drop.
“It concerns the appointment of the officials for the river management project,” he hurriedly explained. “The former First Prince has sent word from the palace. He wants one of his trusted men assigned to the post.”
Jing Mu gave a faint smile, as though hearing a joke.
“Trusted man? He still has trusted men?”
“A few old followers remain, waiting for him to rise again,” Qian Rubin replied. “Your Highness knows as well as I do—river management involves enormous sums of money. It’s a lucrative position. And along the Yellow River, where the emperor is far away, it’s convenient to do… whatever one wishes.”
“So my eldest brother wants someone there to collect wealth for him?” Jing Mu asked.
“Exactly.” Qian Rubin nodded. “The First Prince also said… he has leverage over Your Highness. Everything is ready—he’s only waiting for the final push.”
“And the money stolen from the river works project would be that final push?” Jing Mu asked.
Naturally, he knew exactly what leverage the First Prince possessed.
Originally, by using the Huzhou Imperial Examination case, he had brought down both the First Prince and the Fan family.
The truth, however, was that both the First Prince and Fan Yu’an and his father had actually been innocent.
Everything had happened too suddenly.
Caught off guard, the First Prince had possessed no evidence and had fallen straight into Jing Mu’s trap.
Had Fan Yu’an and his father died, there would have been no witnesses left.
The problem was…
They hadn’t died.
Which meant the First Prince still had a chance to make a comeback.
Ordinarily, Jing Mu would never leave weeds alive by sparing the roots.
But Shu Changyu had forbidden him from killing Fan Yu’an and his father.
And so…
He couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He had spared them.
Since that was the case…
Then one side or the other would have to die.
Shu Changyu wouldn’t let him kill Fan Yu’an’s father because the man was a minister essential to the nation.
But the First Prince…
Surely someone like him was of no use whatsoever to the empire.
Hearing this, Qian Rubin quickly said,
“Exactly. That’s the First Prince’s plan. I’ve already prepared what should be done afterward…”
“Thank you for your efforts, Minister Qian.”
Jing Mu smiled lazily, cutting him off before he could continue.
“This scheme absolutely cannot be allowed to succeed. When the time comes, Minister Qian must recommend to His Majesty someone you trust completely.”
“Naturally!” Qian Rubin said at once. “But regarding the First Prince…”
He was eager to demonstrate his loyalty.
He had already devised a way to eliminate the evidence in the First Prince’s possession.
Yet Jing Mu seemed not to have considered that issue at all.
“Then I can rest easy,” he continued. “This matter should be handled sooner rather than later. Delay only breeds complications. I ask that Minister Qian submit your recommendation to His Majesty tomorrow. If there’s nothing else, you may take your leave.”
“Well…” Qian Rubin hesitated.
After being interrupted again and again—and now even dismissed—unease began creeping into his heart.
The Prince of Dun’s weakness was supposedly in the First Prince’s hands.
Yet Jing Mu showed not the slightest concern, as though cutting off the First Prince’s source of money would solve everything.
Could it be…
That Prince Dun wasn’t as reliable as he’d thought?
Though doubts churned within him, he dared not linger any longer.
He turned and left.
Jing Mu neither knew nor cared what Qian Rubin was thinking.
Once the officials bound for the south departed, Qian Rubin would no longer be useful.
Jing Mu still remembered perfectly well how the man had framed Shu Changyu.
Qian Rubin’s methods were far from clean.
After the First Prince died…
Qian Rubin would be next.
And someone already marked for death wasn’t worth Jing Mu’s attention.
From that day onward, Shu Changyu truly stopped seeing Jing Mu.
The only people entering his cell all day were the jailers who came to clean it.
Even after dinner that evening…
Jing Mu still didn’t come.
Shu Changyu deliberately tried to ignore it.
Yet as he read, his ears felt strangely empty.
The incessantly talkative person who always sat beside him, rambling about trivial matters, was gone.
Outside, the setting sun cast warm golden light across the pages in his hands.
Not a single word entered his mind.
At last, growing inexplicably irritated, he raised his head, almost as though looking for someone.
But before him…
There was nothing.
No one.
Only then did he realize the direction he’d looked toward…
Was precisely where Jing Mu usually sat.
Though he rarely lifted his head to look at him, he had always known exactly where Jing Mu liked to sit.
Shu Changyu froze.
Then, snapping back to himself, he lowered his head again in embarrassed irritation.
Why was I looking for him?
He spends every day babbling endless nonsense. He’s irritating enough already!
Fuming, Shu Changyu glared at the words on the page as though they were his mortal enemy.
For the first time in his life, the Prime Minister Shu—who had always loved peace and quiet—found a place unbearably silent.
The stillness agitated him.
The following days passed.
Jing Mu never came.
Two days later, Shu Changyu finished the few books he had.
The next morning, the young jailer brought him several new ones, setting them on the table while collecting the old volumes.
“I thought he couldn’t even read?” Shu Changyu asked coldly, not knowing whom he was actually angry with. “Who told you to bring these books?”
The poor young jailer had been struck by misfortune for no reason at all.
“H-Replying to Your Excellency… Lord Jing personally handed them to me.”
Shu Changyu gave a cold snort.
He intended to tell the jailer to return the books to Jing Mu.
But once they rested in his hands…
He stopped.
For some inexplicable reason…
He simply couldn’t hand them back.
“Forget it,” he said.
“You may go.”
Several more days passed.
That afternoon, fierce winds began blowing outside.
The capital lay in the north, where strong winds always carried clouds of yellow dust.
For the entire afternoon, sand filled the sky outside Shu Changyu’s window, blotting out the sun.
By evening…
Heavy rain began to fall.
Outside his window came the constant rustling of rain striking the green bamboo.
The raindrops were large and relentless, battering the sturdy stalks with an endlessly noisy patter.
It was then…
That Jing Mu pushed open the door and entered.
Shu Changyu didn’t look up.
Merely hearing the footsteps, he knew exactly who it was.
The page before him was only half read.
Yet for reasons he couldn’t explain, he suddenly felt awkward.
Slowly, he turned to the next page, pretending to be completely absorbed in reading.
This time, Jing Mu didn’t sit across from him.
Instead…
He sat close beside him.
So close their shoulders nearly touched.
Shu Changyu ignored him.
But neither did he move away.
“Grand Tutor,” Jing Mu said softly.
Outside, the rain hammering against the bamboo leaves was deafening.
His voice was so quiet it was almost instantly swallowed by the sound.
Yet Shu Changyu heard it clearly.
He said nothing.
He simply turned another page.
“The First Prince is dead.”
That was what he heard Jing Mu say next.
Though the words reached his ears, Shu Changyu’s attention had somehow shifted entirely to himself.
He had always been sensitive to the cold and keenly aware of changes in temperature.
Jing Mu, sitting beside him now, had clearly been caught in the rain.
A damp chill clung to his body.
The next moment…
That chill enveloped him.
Jing Mu wrapped his arms around him.
Author’s Note:
Extra chapter today!!
Praise me! (:」∠)_
Shu Changyu: Day one without Jing Mu—I miss him. Day two without Jing Mu—I miss him even more. Day three…
First Prince: Wait, I just died like that?
Liu Gouhua: Here’s your boxed lunch. Move aside. Go collect your paycheck from the stage crew.
First Prince: Director, come on. I was at least a minor boss…
Liu Gouhua: What? One boxed lunch isn’t enough? Fine, fine, have another.
First Prince: …Pah.