The study at Wangchen Cove was as quiet as ever.
Spring morning sunlight streamed through the half-open lattice windows, falling diagonally across an inkstone on the writing desk.
Wu Jiuling stood before the desk, quietly gazing at the scholar before him, whose temples had turned gray and whose back had grown hunched.
For a moment, it was as though time had returned to that ink-scented morning three years ago.
“Jiuling…”
Xie Qiuhe’s voice caught in his throat.
Looking at the face before him, he clutched his sleeve tightly with his dry, withered fingers. His hands trembled so badly that he could barely control them.
When the Wu family fell three years ago, he had escaped the disaster because he had returned to his hometown to observe mourning for a deceased relative.
Later, when the terrible news reached him from the capital, he had been nothing more than a poor scholar without power or influence. He had not even possessed the courage to return and collect the bodies, afraid that he would be arrested the moment he set foot in the capital. All he could do was assume a new name and hide himself away in a remote village, making a living by teaching and helping people write letters.
Countless times in his dreams, he had seen his prized student—the boy who had qualified for the provincial-level imperial examination at the age of thirteen, whose writing carried the force of thunder and wind—wrapped in a straw mat and discarded in a mass grave, eventually dissolving into the earth.
Yet now, that child was standing right before him, alive and well.
When someone had first come looking for him, he had thought the authorities had finally tracked him down and were coming to arrest him.
He had nearly turned and fled on the spot.
Only after learning the full story had he resolved to take the risk and come see for himself. He wanted to confirm with his own eyes whether the boy was truly still alive.
Xie Qiuhe examined Wu Jiuling again and again.
The child from back then had grown taller. His shoulders and back remained straight, but he was so thin that a gust of wind might have knocked him over.
The contours of his brows and eyes were still the same as before. Yet the boy whose gaze had once shone as brightly as the stars now had nothing but a bottomless, deathly stillness in his eyes. His expression was so heavy that he almost seemed like a different person.
He had already heard about what the child had endured in the years since, and his heart ached for him.
Fortunately, Prince Yi had now extended a helping hand. In the midst of misfortune, this was at least a great blessing.
Xie Qiuhe drew a deep breath, instinctively wanting to assume the stern bearing of the teacher he had once been. But his dry lips moved, and in the end, everything he wished to say became just one sentence.
“…Second Young Master.”
Xie Qiuhe’s voice was painfully hoarse. His eyes instantly reddened.
“As long as… as long as you’re alive, that’s enough.”
Wu Jiuling lowered his eyes, straightened the hem of his robe, and bowed deeply to Xie Qiuhe in a formal student’s salute.
“Teacher.”
His voice was calm, and his movements were impeccable.
Only that softly spoken word, “Teacher,” held back deep in his throat, betrayed the turbulent emotions that could not be entirely subdued beneath the stillness of his outward appearance.
Xie Qiuhe looked a little older than Wu Jiuling remembered. His hair had turned even whiter, and his frame had grown thinner.
Wu Jiuling understood perfectly well that anyone connected to the Wu family would have been implicated. Had Xie Qiuhe been there at the time, as the Wu family’s private tutor and literary adviser, he would certainly not have escaped involvement. These past years must have been difficult for him, too.
Xie Qiuhe could have avoided the risk of coming here.
Yet he had come anyway.
Wu Jiuling had thought Xiao Ying was merely helping him find a teacher.
He had never imagined that what Xiao Ying had found for him was a part of himself he had lost.
And Xie Qiuhe had never given up on him, either.
Xiao Ying sat in a horseshoe-backed armchair not far away, idly playing with the lid of his teacup as he quietly watched the scene without interrupting.
Only after the emotions between teacher and student had settled somewhat, and Xie Qiuhe had wiped the moisture from the corners of his eyes, did Xiao Ying push a cup of hot tea toward the empty seat opposite him, indicating that Xie Qiuhe should sit down.
“Teacher Xie is the person who knows your academic progress from back then best.”
Xiao Ying lifted his eyes to Wu Jiuling. His tone was unhurried, as though they were discussing nothing more than an ordinary matter.
“With him helping you review the classics, histories, and literary compositions, you won’t have to start from scratch.”
Wu Jiuling turned to look at Xiao Ying, a subtle flicker passing through his eyes.
“Besides Teacher Xie, I’ve arranged for two other people.”
Meeting his gaze, Xiao Ying continued at an even pace. “One previously served in the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Revenue. He is well versed in the laws of Da Sheng and in policy essays on current affairs. The other comes from a military background and is extremely tight-lipped. From now on, every other day, he will help you recover the foundation in riding and archery you have neglected for three years.”
Xiao Ying watched Wu Jiuling’s fingers tighten slightly. There was not the slightest trace of condescension in his voice, nor any arrogance about doing him a favor.
“Teacher Xie goes without saying. The man teaching current affairs owes me a favor from years ago. As for the one teaching riding and archery, all he knows is that there is a young master in the residence whose identity must remain concealed and who needs to exercise. They know what they should ask and what they should not. They certainly won’t let a single word slip to outsiders.”
The study fell silent for a moment.
Wu Jiuling knew that Xiao Ying had not simply thrown together a few famous teachers to fill the positions.
Xiao Ying knew that he had lost his chance to take the provincial examination. He had also seen through the ambition buried deep within him, an ambition that had never truly been extinguished, along with his unwillingness to accept his fate.
Xiao Ying was laying out a path that would reconnect him to the road that had been cut off in the past, giving him another way forward.
It was simply a much rougher road, and by no means an easy one.
Whether he could reach the end of it remained unknown.
“I’ve already found the people, but whether you study or not is entirely up to you.”
Xiao Ying lifted his teacup and took a sip.
“If you find it exhausting, or if you no longer wish to take this path, then forget it. I’ll arrange for Teacher Xie to stay in a small courtyard outside the city. Whenever you want to see him, I’ll make arrangements for you to meet.”
Wu Jiuling’s gaze fell upon the writing brush and ink on the desk. Then he looked at Xie Qiuhe, who sat opposite him, his eyes full of anticipation yet too hesitant to urge him.
He had once believed that he would spend the rest of his life rotting away among the rouge and powder of Shuyu Pavilion.
But now, the “weight” that had been taken from him three years ago was being slowly, bit by bit, returned to the palm of his hand by Xiao Ying.
It was not an order, but a choice.
Xiao Ying had picked up an option that had long since been lost and placed it before him once more, allowing him to choose the life he wanted for himself.
He did not immediately thank Xiao Ying for his kindness, nor did he nervously refuse the offer.
Instead, he turned toward Xie Qiuhe, his back straight and his tone calm and firm.
“Teacher, I haven’t touched the eight-legged essays in three years, and I’ve forgotten much of the classical commentary you annotated for me back then. For the first step today, how do you intend to test my current foundation?”
Hearing this, Xiao Ying lowered his eyes, concealing the faint smile in them, and took another sip of tea.
◆◇◆◇◆
By afternoon, the Ningyu Pavilion was bright and open on all four sides.
Golden sunlight slanted across the sweeping eaves, spilling onto the rippling water outside the pavilion and scattering into a pool of shimmering light.
Several pear trees by the water were in full bloom. Their blossoms resembled snow, their delicate petals gleaming faintly in the warm golden sunshine.
A gentle breeze swept through the pavilion, carrying countless white petals down to form a thin layer of scattered snow across the ground and water. It also brought with it the faint, sweet fragrance of the flowers.
There was no noisy music here, nor the constraint of being surrounded by a crowd of maids.
A few plates of delicate, bite-sized pastries had been casually placed on the bluestone table, along with three pots of fine osmanthus liquor, sweet and mellow in aroma.
The warm golden sunlight fell upon the plain drinking cups, reflecting a lazy, carefree glow.
“So you finally decided to show your face? We haven’t caught so much as a glimpse of you for nearly two months. I was beginning to think Your Highness had decided to become a Taoist hermit.”
Zheng Shixuan dropped into a seat without the slightest courtesy, poured himself a cup of wine, and then shifted his gaze toward Wu Jiuling, who was seated beside Xiao Ying.
Wen Shaochen remarked flatly, “If I hadn’t sent you an invitation, who knows how long we would have had to wait before seeing Your Highness again. Probably until the Year of the Donkey and the Horse.”
Shangguan Mingyu toyed with a purple bamboo folding fan, smiling as he joined the conversation.
“No wonder the pleasure houses haven’t been able to get Prince Yi to visit lately. So it turns out Your Highness has been keeping a treasured guest hidden away in his residence. Naturally, you wouldn’t want to go out and socialize with ordinary folk like us. At least now you’re finally willing to bring him out and introduce him to us.”
Shangguan Mingyu looked toward Wu Jiuling, who sat beside Xiao Ying.
“You came to my residence today to reminisce about old times, or to keep an eye on someone else?”
Xiao Ying lounged lazily against the railing without even raising an eyebrow. He tapped the stone table with the spine of his fan, his tone casual.
“This is Yuexi.”
There was no further explanation, no introduction to his background, and no deliberate attempt to protect him.
The air fell silent for a moment.
Rumors about Xiao Ying’s recent affairs had been circulating wildly throughout the capital, with countless versions of the story spreading everywhere. The most popular one claimed that the notorious romantic prince had fallen in love for the first time and bought out the top male courtesan at Shuyu Pavilion.
When the news had first reached their ears, the four of them had assumed someone had made it up. Xiao Ying had never visited a male brothel before.
It was only later, when news arrived that Prince Yi and a male courtesan had fallen into the river while boating, that someone had died in a fire aboard the pleasure boat, and that Xiao Ying had subsequently been ordered by the emperor to enter the Imperial Clan Court to organize old records, that they finally realized something was amiss.
But they had not come today to confront Xiao Ying and demand an explanation for whatever he was doing.
They had simply come to see him.
The four men regarded the rumored “Young Lord Yuexi” with a measure of curiosity.
Today, he wore a regular robe with an ivory-white base that gradually faded into pale red. His long black hair was simply gathered up with a plain silver hairpin, and he wore his shoes and socks properly.
He sat there quietly, meeting their curious gazes with a composed expression and a slight nod of greeting.
Apart from being exceptionally handsome and possessing a distinctive air about him, he seemed little different from an ordinary young master of a prominent family.
Xiao Ying’s attitude also did not suggest that he regarded Young Lord Yuexi as a favored concubine.
Still, they could not yet figure out Xiao Ying’s intentions, so they decided to adopt the safest approach toward this unusual person.
For the time being, they would simply regard him as another new friend of Xiao Ying’s.
Young Lord Yuexi, meanwhile, instinctively began assessing the identities of the four men and considering what they might be trying to test.
At Shuyu Pavilion, every gaze directed at him had carried some hint of appraisal or calculation.
He had originally assumed that Xiao Ying’s “friends” would be court officials entangled in political interests, or drinking companions who were only friends when it suited them.
But over the next half hour, the conversation took a completely unexpected turn.
“The old man at home has been pushing me to meet another potential marriage partner again. I haven’t dared set foot inside the house for days.”
Zheng Shixuan grimaced and drained a mouthful of wine before turning to complain to Xiao Ying.
“Your Highness, on the other hand, seems to have all the leisure in the world. How about lending me a guest room to hide in for a few days? Your residence is huge, anyway.”
“I refuse.”
Xiao Ying gave a merciless scoff.
“If you move in here, Grand Academician Zheng will submit an impeachment memorial to Father Emperor tomorrow, accusing me of leading the Zheng family’s younger generation astray. I can’t afford to offend him. Besides, what makes you think I have all the leisure in the world?”
He had to report to the Imperial Clan Court every day, and then deal with the affairs of his own residence when he returned. He had barely been getting enough sleep lately. The word “leisure” had absolutely nothing to do with his current life.
“Exactly,” Wen Shaochen added quietly as he poured wine for everyone, delivering another blow without changing his expression. “If you move into Prince Yi’s residence, within three days the entire capital will know that the young master of the Zheng family was so desperate to escape marriage that he threw away even his dignity. And you’ll drag His Highness’s reputation down with you.”
Everyone burst out laughing. Zheng Shixuan was so annoyed that he reached for the wine pot in Wen Shaochen’s hand.
But seeing Xiao Ying joking around just as he always had, the others finally felt a little more at ease.
Wu Jiuling sat quietly to one side, his gaze passing discreetly over the four men.
Shangguan Mingyu was witty and knew exactly how to enliven the atmosphere without ever overstepping his bounds.
Zheng Shixuan was cheerful and boisterous, with absolutely no filter.
Wen Shaochen did not say much, but he always managed to hit the nail on the head.
As for Ye Jingming, who sat at the far end, he had been absorbed in reading half a damaged book ever since he sat down, only occasionally lifting his head to listen to the conversation.
Xiao Ying had not introduced the others’ backgrounds, and they had not mentioned their own identities, either.
It was as though status and family background did not matter here.
This was the first time Wu Jiuling had formed an initial impression of people without beginning with their identities and using those to determine their worth.
No one asked about Young Lord Yuexi’s origins. No one teased him about the rumors circulating outside. No one tried to steer the conversation toward court politics or schemes for power.
This was nothing more than an ordinary gathering of old friends who had not seen one another in a long time.
They joked with Xiao Ying and spoke to him without the slightest formality.
And Xiao Ying did not take offense at all, occasionally firing back with a few sarcastic remarks of his own.
Their conversation contained no intelligence or strategic discussion. It was almost entirely made up of everyday matters, even pointless chatter and jokes.
Young Lord Yuexi finally relaxed.
He understood now. These were people who truly knew Xiao Ying.
“The annotations to this Zhuangzi seem to be missing a few pages?”
Ye Jingming, who had been silent all this time, suddenly frowned slightly and muttered to himself as he examined the damaged volume in his hands.
“The ‘Equality of Things’ chapter doesn’t connect properly.”
“That is an edition printed at the end of the previous dynasty. At the time, certain passages were deliberately removed from the ‘Equality of Things’ chapter to avoid offending the authorities through the use of taboo characters. It isn’t missing pages.”
A clear, resonant voice naturally picked up the conversation.
Ye Jingming paused, then raised his head to meet Young Lord Yuexi’s calm gaze.
“When I was young, I once saw a rubbing of the complete inscription, copied by an earlier scholar, in my family’s study,” Young Lord Yuexi explained, looking at him with an open and unguarded expression. “The annotations to those two passages differ slightly from the versions commonly circulated today. Their interpretation of ‘all things being equal’ leans more toward withdrawing from the world. If Young Master Ye would like, I can write those two passages out from memory for you later.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Young Lord Yuexi himself felt the slightest pause in his heart.
He had not referred to himself as “Yuexi.” He had not put on that flawless false mask. He had not treated this as a confrontation that required careful maneuvering at every step, nor had he turned his words into a bargaining chip meant to curry favor or test the other party.
He had simply been discussing a book.
Ye Jingming’s eyes lit up at once. His delight at meeting someone who shared his interests was plain to see.
“Really? The rubbing of that version was rumored to have been destroyed in the fires of war. Even preserving a copy of it would be remarkable. Then I shall trouble you for it, Young Master!”
Shangguan Mingyu and Wen Shaochen exchanged an inconspicuous glance.
They had originally assumed that the person Xiao Ying had unusually chosen to keep by his side must simply be a peerlessly beautiful man. After all, they had long known that Xiao Ying had a fondness for beautiful things.
But after hearing just a few exchanges, they discovered that beneath that handsome exterior lay a depth of knowledge worthy of their admiration.
At last, they understood why Xiao Ying had brought Young Lord Yuexi along with him.
Young Lord Yuexi was completely different from the male courtesans they had stereotyped in their minds. He was an ordinary person, just like them.
For someone with such learning to be trapped in the mire would truly be a terrible waste.
Young Lord Yuexi turned his head and happened to see Xiao Ying propping up his chin, watching him with a relaxed, casual smile.
A cool breeze swept through the pavilion, carrying the scent of water and flowers. The air was filled with a leisurely serenity.
In that sunlit afternoon, Young Lord Yuexi suddenly realized that, for the first time, he was seeing the most genuine and natural side of Prince Yi—the side belonging to Xiao Ying himself, beneath all those layers of disguise and masks.
There was no need for calculation or wariness, no schemes or counter-schemes. He was simply spending some time with a few close friends.
Young Lord Yuexi seemed to understand a little better what Xiao Ying was truly seeking.
He also understood why Xiao Ying had brought him to this private gathering today.
Seeing how Ye Jingming looked as though he could hardly wait any longer, Xiao Ying chuckled and casually summoned a servant waiting outside the pavilion, instructing him to bring writing materials.
Before long, fine brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones were neatly laid out on an empty section of the stone table.
Young Lord Yuexi did not decline. He rolled up a section of his pale, luminous sleeve, picked up a brush, and dipped it in ink.
Lowering his eyes slightly, he held his wrist above the paper and began to write. His movements flowed smoothly, calm and effortless.
In no time at all, the two missing passages of commentary from the “Equality of Things” chapter had appeared on the paper.
The others were secretly astonished. Young Lord Yuexi had said that he had seen a copy of the rubbing in his family’s study when he was young, but they had not expected him to reproduce the text in its entirety from memory.
Before the ink had even dried, Ye Jingming was already holding the sheet of rice paper as though it were a priceless treasure, his eyes filled with delight.
Before he could even read the contents carefully, Zheng Shixuan leaned over and let out an appreciative click of his tongue.
“Beautiful handwriting!”
He deliberately drew out his words, then shot a sideways glance at Xiao Ying.
“Such neat, elegant strokes, with the sharpness carefully restrained. Just looking at it is a pleasure! Far better than the wild cursive of a certain someone, whose writing requires a combination of guessing and deciphering just to understand.”
Shangguan Mingyu shook his folding fan beside them, smiling as he joined in.
“Brother Zheng, you’re mistaken. As for His Highness’s handwriting… can that really be called wild cursive? It belongs to a world entirely of its own.”
“Unrestrained, unpredictable, and entirely dependent on fate,” Wen Shaochen added expressionlessly, holding his wine cup as he delivered the final blow.
Even Ye Jingming, who usually immersed himself in books and little else, seriously nodded while holding the sheet of paper.
“Indeed. Prince Yi’s brushwork is free and uninhibited. His calligraphy is truly ‘Yi-style’ in the finest sense, an absolute ‘Yi-unique’ masterpiece of the age. In my opinion, perhaps we should simply call it the ‘Yi style’ from now on.”
Hearing his close friends take turns teasing him, Xiao Ying picked up his folding fan in exasperation and lightly tapped Ye Jingming on the head.
“You little rascal, Ye Jingming! Even you have joined them in ganging up on me? My calligraphy is called unconventional, a style of its own. Besides, if I were to write properly and put some effort into it, I certainly wouldn’t lose to anyone. I’m simply too lazy to spend the energy on it most of the time.”
“Yes, yes, Your Highness is right about everything. The ‘Yi style’ is naturally the most ‘Yi-unique’ style under heaven. Truly ‘unrestrained in the Yi way’ and ‘a school of its own in the Yi way.’”
At this, Zheng Shixuan and the others burst into merciless laughter.
Watching this group of close friends tease and poke fun at one another without the slightest pretension, Wu Jiuling felt the wariness and vigilance in his eyes dissolve completely. The corners of his lips lifted into a faint smile.
For a moment, the atmosphere inside the pavilion was exceptionally lighthearted. The mellow sweetness of the osmanthus liquor mingled with the delicate fragrance of fresh ink, drifting lazily into the spring breeze.
A few pear blossoms floated over and landed on the stone table. One petal came to rest in Young Lord Yuexi’s hair.
When Xiao Ying turned his head and saw it, he naturally raised his hand and plucked the petal away.
Young Lord Yuexi noticed the movement and lifted his eyes. At that very moment, he met those peach-blossom eyes, carrying three parts amusement and seven parts affection.
It felt as though a feather had gently brushed against his heart, stirring a strange sensation and an inexplicable flutter of nervousness.
He immediately lowered his lashes and murmured, “…Thank you, Your Highness.”
He hurriedly lifted his wine cup and took a sip. The sweet, delicate flavor of the osmanthus liquor spread across his tongue, and another pear blossom petal fell into the remaining wine, making the liquid ripple gently.
Their interaction naturally did not escape the others’ notice.
In their minds, the information they had originally written down—“Yuexi is Xiao Ying’s friend”—instantly acquired a question mark.
By sunset, the friends had enjoyed themselves thoroughly and were ready to leave.
Before departing, Zheng Shixuan did not forget to turn back and call out, “If you disappear for another two months, we’re going to smash down the gates of your residence!”
Wen Shaochen, meanwhile, glanced at Xiao Ying before following the others away.
Their figures passed through the moon gate. After Young Lord Yuexi had also departed, Lan Ningcheng finally emerged from beneath the corridor.
He walked over to Xiao Ying and reported in a low voice, audible only to the two of them.
“Your Highness, there’s news about the hairpin you previously ordered us to keep an eye out for. It has appeared at a pawnshop in a neighboring prefecture. I’ve already sent word to our informants to intercept it first.”
The casual expression on Xiao Ying’s face vanished instantly, and his gaze darkened.
“Buy it.”
He spoke without wasting a single word, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Send it here as quickly as possible. Leave no trace, and thoroughly investigate the identity and whereabouts of the person who pawned it.”
“This subordinate will handle it properly.”
“And one more thing,” Xiao Ying said quietly. “Don’t let Yuexi know.”
“I understand.”
◆◇◆◇◆
Deep in the night, candlelight flickered gently in the study.
Xiao Ying sat behind his desk, holding a small wooden box that had just been delivered to the prince’s residence by a fast horse, traveling at the greatest possible speed throughout the night.
Thanks to Lan Ningcheng’s foresight and advance arrangements, the item had arrived safely on his desk that very night, the same day the news had reached them.
When the box was opened, a golden plum-blossom hairpin lay quietly inside.
The craftsmanship was exceptionally delicate. The plum branch at the head of the pin spread out gracefully, with several tiny plum blossoms blooming upon it, each rendered vividly and lifelike.
A fine gold chain hung from the end of the branch, with a small red agate bead dangling from its tip.
The design was exquisite and charming. Though it was not the latest fashionable style in the capital, it resembled the dainty ornaments favored by the daughters of official families several years ago.
On closer inspection, although the gold surface had been wiped clean, the edges bore the gentle patina of age. It was clearly not some trinket left untouched in a jewelry box, but a personal possession that someone had worn repeatedly over many years.
Xiao Ying lifted the hairpin into the candlelight, carefully examining every inch of it. At last, his gaze stopped at the edge of the lowest petal.
There was a tiny dent there, as though a young child had accidentally knocked it against something hard while playing.
It matched the information he had received.
Xiao Ying extended his long, slender fingers and gently brushed the dent. The cold sensation of the metal traveled from his fingertips into his skin.
He had been searching for this hairpin for some time.
It might have been pawned in a moment of desperation. It might have been a trace left behind during a turbulent flight from place to place. It might even have changed hands several times already.
Since the item could have appeared on the black market, in a pawnshop, at a stall in a ghost market, or even in the furnace of a gold and silver shop, he had instructed Lan Ningcheng some time ago to keep an eye out for it.
He had not expected them to actually find it.
But precisely because they had found it, he could not allow himself to feel completely at ease.
The timing of this golden hairpin’s appearance was far too coincidental.
…The item might be genuine, or it might be a counterfeit.
And the person connected to it might not be who they claimed to be, either.
He did not dare rule out the possibility that this was yet another baited trap.
Even if the hairpin was genuine, its appearance in a pawnshop in a neighboring prefecture did not mean the person herself was there.
The hairpin could not prove where the young girl was now, nor could it confirm whether she was still safe.
But at the very least, this cold piece of gold proved one thing—
The young girl who had vanished without a trace for three years had indeed left evidence of having been alive somewhere in this world.
If it was real…
He hoped with all his heart that it was real.
Xiao Ying returned the golden plum-blossom hairpin to the box and slowly closed the lid.
The lighthearted ease of the afternoon at Ningyu Pavilion had completely dissipated. In its place remained the vast, oppressive shadow behind this hairpin, along with a deadlock that had yet to be resolved.