“Cough, cough, cough.”
From the soft couch, Xu Qinghuan tossed aside the chestnut shell she had only half peeled and deliberately cleared her throat, her gaze darting back and forth between the two people before her.
“Xu Fu.” Xu Qinghuan drew out his name lazily.
“Yes, my lady. What are your orders?” Xu Fu poked half his head through the doorway.
“Go outside and find out whether there was a fake at the Luming Banquet in Mingyue Tower today.”
“That can’t be, can it? Who would have the nerve to impersonate a successful candidate in the provincial examinations?” Xu Fu scratched his head.
“Then how do you explain the man who came running back along the main street just now, boasting to me? He said that Great Scholar Xu had verbally bested a whole gathering of scholars, even angering a venerable teacher from the Imperial Academy into collapsing, and had gone so far as to proclaim that he would establish everlasting peace under heaven.”
Xu Qinghuan lounged sideways on the couch, her finger tapping idly in Xu Zijin’s direction.
“How is it that the moment this man steps through my courtyard gate, he turns into a tight-lipped gourd? Out there, he’s a living King of Hell, throwing punches with every word. But once he comes home, he becomes a timid, tongue-tied block of wood?”
Xu Zijin was rendered speechless. His originally fair face flushed at once, and even the tips of his ears turned an uncontrollable crimson.
Beside him, Xu Fu struggled to hold back his laughter as he took a tightly sealed object from his sleeve and held it out.
It was a medicinal pellet sealed completely in thick black wax.
“My lady, someone delivered this from outside just now.” Xu Fu lowered his voice. “A carrier pigeon flew in from the north.”
The smile at the corners of Xu Qinghuan’s lips faded.
She reached out and accepted the wax-sealed pellet, rubbing it lightly between her fingertips twice. Yet the teasing glint in her eyes did not disappear.
“Xu Fu.” Xu Qinghuan casually slipped the pellet into her sleeve. “Has the snow stopped outside?”
“My lady, the snow has stopped, but the biting wind of this false spring still cuts straight into one’s bones.”
Xu Qinghuan pushed open half a window and glanced outside. Then she slapped her thigh in delight.
“Oh, look at all this springtime splendor! The flowers are blooming so beautifully—how considerate of them! Come, come, come! Follow this Princess out to admire the flowers!”
Xu Fu froze on the spot. “What? My lady, where did this springtime splendor come from? The brazier was only just stoked—”
“Enough nonsense!” Xu Qinghuan could not be bothered with him. She tugged her skirt into place, and before leaving, shot Xie Yunwan a mischievous wink.
With Xu Fu following her in utter confusion, she stepped over the threshold and pulled the two lattice doors shut behind her.
Just before the gap closed completely, Xu Qinghuan’s distant voice drifted in on the cold wind.
“Have every guard in the courtyard keep a close watch on the blind spots. Don’t let even one stray cat with no sense wander in.”
The doors closed completely, and the heated room fell silent in an instant.
The only sound was the quiet burning of the silver-frost charcoal in the bronze brazier.
Xu Zijin felt that his breathing was far too loud. He tried to steady his breath, but his heart only began pounding harder and harder.
Xie Yunwan gently set down the teacup in her hand on the small table.
The simple movement made Xu Zijin’s heart tighten inexplicably.
With a smile still on her lips, Xie Yunwan took a step toward him.
As she moved, the faint, cool fragrance of plum blossoms drifted through the air.
She stopped less than half a step away.
Lowering her head slightly, she turned her gaze to Xu Zijin’s right hand hanging at his side.
That hand, which had once been long-fingered and sharply jointed, the hand that had written of everlasting peace under heaven, was now a complete mess.
The cuts were still oozing thin threads of blood, though the blood around them had long since dried into dark brown stains. There was probably still ink caught between his fingers, mixed with the snowmelt that had thawed along the way.
Xie Yunwan’s heart suddenly clenched. Without thinking, she reached out and seized Xu Zijin’s wrist.
Xu Zijin’s entire body shuddered, and a faint flush spread across his cheeks.
“Miss Xie…”
He instinctively tried to pull his hand back.
But when he had only exerted half his strength, Xie Yunwan’s fingers tightened slightly, and her delicate brows drew together.
Feeling the warmth and softness of her hand through the fabric, Xu Zijin immediately stopped moving.
“It’s only a superficial wound. It’s nothing. Don’t soil your hands,” Xu Zijin forced out stiffly.
Xie Yunwan did not respond.
With her free hand, she drew a plain silk handkerchief from her waist. Lowering her head, she supported his hand and carefully wiped away the dried blood, little by little.
Her touch was so gentle that it seemed she was afraid of hurting him.
As the ink and blood were wiped away, a long, slanting cut emerged across his palm. The flesh had split open, making for a shocking sight.
Xie Yunwan’s movements paused.
She raised her eyes and met Xu Zijin’s gaze. He had been looking at her all along.
As their eyes met, Xu Zijin clearly saw the undisguised heat and tenderness in her gaze.
He had prepared an entire bellyful of words beforehand—the First Prince’s schemes, the changes in court, and the next step for the new school of thought. He had planned to analyze everything carefully with her.
Yet at this moment, facing those eyes, not a single word about grand plans or great strategies would come out.
He could only remain like a genuine block of wood, letting her hold his hand. A trace of grievance surfaced in his eyes.
“The several pages of notes you had someone deliver the night before last.” Xie Yunwan lowered her eyes again, her voice soft. “I’ve finished reading through your deductions on those difficult points.”
Hearing this, Xu Zijin secretly let out a long breath of relief.
As long as they discussed the contents of the letter—scholarship and strategies for breaking through the deadlock—he could regain some of his confidence.
“Those ideas were formed rather hastily. I thought I’d let you look them over first.” Xu Zijin spoke a little faster, trying to conceal his inner panic. “As long as certain parts are completely removed and we proceed step by step, that path will work, even if the entire court condemns it.”
Xie Yunwan hummed in acknowledgment and pressed a clean corner of the handkerchief lightly against the edge of his wound.
“The reasoning is sound. Over the past half month, you’ve sent more than a dozen letters, and every matter you discussed was analyzed with remarkable depth.” Her tone shifted. “But in the letter from the day before yesterday, you left out one fatal point.”
Xu Zijin frowned slightly and instinctively straightened his back, slipping into the posture of someone prepared to debate.
“What point? Was there a flaw in my deductions, or some hidden danger I failed to take into account?”
Xie Yunwan’s hand stilled.
She still did not raise her head, but her tone held a hint of coquettish reproach and quiet grievance perceptible only to the two of them.
“Xu, the provincial runner-up is renowned throughout the realm, and you certainly know how to calculate. In your letter, you arranged all those perilous matters at the beginning with perfect clarity…”
“But you conveniently failed to write this: if such an enormous undertaking is to be established, and there is no one capable of making the final decision or shielding it from wind and rain… whom should a weak woman like me turn to for protection?”
Xu Zijin froze.
The blush that had only just begun to fade surged back over his face, spreading all the way down his neck.
His lips parted slightly, and for a moment he even forgot to breathe.
Why did it feel as though the air in the heated room was growing warmer by the second, making his head swim…?
After a long while, Xu Zijin finally came back to himself.
With somewhat frantic movements, he reached into the front of his robe with his unharmed left hand.
He searched several times through the inner pocket beneath two layers of padded clothing. At last, he pulled out an object.
It was a seal about the size of a baby’s fist.
The entire piece was a translucent pale blue, carved from the finest Qingtian frozen stone. It still held the warmth Xu Zijin’s body had imparted to it after carrying it close to his skin for so long.
Xu Zijin rested the small seal in his left hand, holding it out with both hands trembling slightly. He extended it half an inch, offering it to Xie Yunwan.
“This is a keepsake my mother left me.” Xu Zijin’s voice had grown hoarse, carrying the awkward sincerity of a man baring his entire heart.
After saying this, Xu Zijin fell silent.
Xie Yunwan’s gaze moved slowly from the small seal to his face.
She stared at the seal for a moment, then curved her lips into a smile and covered it with her hand.
Her soft fingers closed around it, enclosing the warm Qingtian frozen-stone seal—and Xu Zijin’s slightly stiff fingers along with it—tightly within her palm.
Xu Zijin shuddered.
“Has Mr. Xu truly made up his mind?” Xie Yunwan gazed into his eyes, hers glistening with tears. “I’ve been bound by the rules of an aristocratic family since childhood. Now that I’ve finally risked my life to break free… the thing I hate most is when someone goes back on their word.”
Her fingers tightened slightly, gripping his hand even more firmly.
Xu Zijin suppressed the urge to pull her into his arms without a care for anything else. His eyes were filled with utter sincerity.
“Even unto death, I will not retreat.”
Just four words, yet they carried more weight than the startling declaration he had made at Brightmoon Tower—weight enough to outweigh a thousand catties.
A glimmer of tears flashed in Xie Yunwan’s eyes.
She suddenly stepped half a pace forward, bringing them as close as they could possibly be, their clothes brushing lightly against each other.
Rising onto her toes, she tilted her face and leaned toward Xu Zijin’s ear. Her warm breath brushed against his already crimson earlobe.
“Everyone in the capital says that the newly crowned Second Laureate has the hardest bones and the sharpest tongue…”
She lowered her voice, soft and gentle, with a teasing tenderness that tugged at the heartstrings.
“But your hands…” She gave a soft little hum. “How did they get so cold?”
