Prince Ming spoke again. “I’m your biological father.”
“Yes—you’re my biological father.” Yan Qichu laughed and wept at once. “Then, Father, my real father, now that I’ve said it, will you save me? Save your own son, please?”
Prince Ming pressed his lips tightly together, the hand behind his back clenched into a fist.
He wanted to save Yan Qichu, but he could not acknowledge him in the Kaifeng Prefecture prison.
Otherwise, once Yan Tongshu learned of it, she would surely do everything in her power to stop him.
But Yan Qichu did not understand Prince Ming’s thoughts. Seeing his silence, he smiled through his tears. “See, Father? I knew it. You’re still the same as you were before. You still won’t stand by my side.”
Prince Ming closed his eyes briefly. “Stop making trouble.”
“I’m making trouble?” Yan Qichu raised his head to look at Prince Ming. “Father, I’m not making trouble. I just know you too well. I know you won’t help me.”
Prince Ming said painfully, “I’m your father.”
His father.
What father in this world would refuse to help his own son?
Prince Ming drew a deep breath. “Chu, tell Father properly—were you coaxed or manipulated into doing these things? Is there some injustice behind all this? Did Yan Tongshu force you?”
Yan Qichu stared at Prince Ming with dark, hollow eyes. “Father, Yan Tongshu is formidable. More formidable than you. The witnesses and evidence are all there, and your son was caught by her on the spot. Besides, she understands me better than you do. She said I was useless, said I was cowardly. Father, your son truly isn’t a good person.”
Yan Qichu’s attitude broke Prince Ming’s heart. Unable to contain his anguish, he asked, “Why did you do it?”
Yan Qichu smiled. “Because I’m useless. I’m incompetent. I’m worthless. I can’t get hard. I can’t have children. I’m not a man! Father, is that answer satisfactory to you?”
Prince Ming had learned of Yan Qichu’s impotence before coming here, so he showed little surprise now.
Prince Ming lowered his voice, and a trace of viciousness entered it. “Who hurt you? Tell Father. Father will seek justice for you.”
Yan Qichu still did not believe him. “Father, you would seek justice for me?”
His tone was almost mocking.
Prince Ming’s brows furrowed deeply. “Chu, what has happened to you?”
How had that once obedient, clever child become like this?
What on earth had happened?
Yan Qichu’s voice was steeped in despair. “Father, do you remember when I was four?”
Pain flickered in Prince Ming’s eyes.
How could he not remember?
This was the only child he had raised with his own hands.
He had taught him to say “Father” for the first time, to walk for the first time, to write for the first time.
The corner of Yan Qichu’s mouth curled in bitter mockery. “Father, when I was four, I drew a family portrait myself for your birthday. I wanted to give it to you. That day, Grand Commandant Sikong came to our residence with his young grandson, Sikong Minghua. He wanted to see my drawing, but I wouldn’t let him. You said I was being rude and gave the picture to Sikong Minghua. Before long, he ruined it while playing with it. I cried, and you beat me. You told Grand Commandant Sikong that children didn’t know any better, and that he should punish me severely. Back then, I cried and begged you to help me too. Father, did you help me?”
Prince Ming: “That’s different. You were both children then, and he was Sikong Tangjin’s grandson. Your father had no choice at the time.”
“Yes, no choice.” Yan Qichu wiped away his tears. “When I was seven, Mother gave me a little wooden sword. Sikong Minghua saw it and wanted it. Without even asking me, you gave it to him. I went home crying and begging you to go to the Sikong residence and get my wooden sword back. Father, did you help me?”
Prince Ming: “I wasn’t like I am today back then. At the time, I needed Grandpa Sikong’s support.”
Yan Qichu: “Yes, you did. But what about afterward? Four years ago, when the northern rebellion broke out, Sikong Tangjin sent Sikong Minghua and me to reinforce Yuncheng and Liaocheng and hold back the rebel army. I said there was an ambush, but Sikong Minghua wouldn’t listen. He insisted on leading the troops in, and even forced me to take my men ahead first.
“I went in—and walked straight into the ambush. I hated him for it, so I sent out a false signal flare and lured him in too. Afterward, I said that Sikong Minghua, as commander-in-chief, had made a fatal misjudgment that caused so many soldiers to die needlessly. Father, did you help me? In the end, wasn’t I the one who bore all the blame, while Sikong Minghua walked away unscathed?”
Prince Ming defended himself. “At the time, your father still didn’t have enough power. I could only endure.”
“Then how much longer am I supposed to wait?!” Yan Qichu roared hysterically.
He demanded, “Father, give me a definite answer. How much longer must I wait? When I was young, you said your influence was too weak and your rank too low. You said that if you wanted to rise, you had to rely on the Sikong family and seek a higher position through factional struggles. You told me to wait—to wait year after year, to yield again and again.
“Later, you rose step by step until you were second only to Sikong Tangjin. You told me to wait a little longer, to keep waiting. Three years ago, you became second only to the Emperor. Sikong Tangjin was already dead, yet you said you still needed the Divine Martial Army under Sikong Minghua’s command to secure your position. Again, you made me give way. Again, you made me wait. I waited and waited, year after year. And what did I get? Nothing but disappointment, time and time again.”
Tears streamed down Yan Qichu’s face. “You have no idea what I went through. Four years ago, during that rebellion, Sikong Minghua resented me for tricking him into the enemy’s encirclement. He crippled me with his own hands. From that moment on, I was no longer your son.”
Boom.
Prince Ming’s body swayed violently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have made any difference? Would you have helped me?” Yan Qichu had long since lost all faith in Prince Ming. He asked in return, “Father, if I had told you, would anything have changed? Wouldn’t you have pushed your own son out to take the blame in order to curry favor with Sikong Tangjin? Wouldn’t you have sacrificed your son again and again for the sake of political infighting?”
Yan Qichu looked at him with the gaze of someone who had seen through him long ago. “Father, you see? Nothing would have changed. Everything would have turned out exactly as it has now. So what difference would it have made whether I told you or not?”
“No… no.” Prince Ming desperately wanted to say that he would have avenged him. That he would have.
But Yan Qichu did not give him the chance. He said with absolute certainty, “You won’t. You never will. Because you have to contend with others, win over powerful allies, and lie low. You will always need to strengthen your own position. To become the one and only, you can sacrifice everything.”
He looked at Prince Ming for a long, long time. At last, he said with a mocking edge to his voice, “Father, if that really isn’t true, then save me now. Help your son, won’t you?”
By the end, Yan Qichu was laughing at himself. “See? I asked you, and did anything change? Father, I’m actually rather envious of Sikong Minghua. He truly has a good grandfather and a good father. I have neither. I never have.”
With that, Yan Qichu lay down on the narrow bed, closed his eyes, and said no more.
Prince Ming blinked, forcing down the moisture in his eyes, then walked out of the dungeon and out of the Kaifeng Prefecture offices.
Li Fulin stood at the entrance to the Kaifeng Prefecture offices and watched Prince Ming board his sedan chair.
“This is bad,” he murmured.
“What is it, my lord?” the constable beside him asked.
The corner of Li Fulin’s eye twitched violently. “Yan Qichu has used their past as father and son—their affection and his father’s guilt—to bind Prince Ming. Prince Ming will certainly do whatever it takes to save him. He may even…”
Negotiate with the Emperor.
…
Yan Liangrong and Yan Liangyu, together with the constables, escorted the nineteen girls back to their homes.
When they were about to part, Yan Liangyu took Ding Xin’s hand and said softly, “Don’t be afraid. Go ahead and pack your things. I’ll take you and your mother home. I’ll find a lawyer to help you obtain a divorce.”
“But—but…” Ding Xin lowered her head, her eyes filled with pain. “I still killed someone.”
That person had even been a friend from her own village.
She had been about the same age as Ding Xin.
About the same height.
They had met, spoken, and even eaten from the same pear.
And Ding Xin had killed her!
Yan Liangyu stressed again, “You can’t think of it that way. You were drugged, and you weren’t in your right mind. Those villains even threatened you with your life. You were forced into it. You didn’t know what you were doing at the time.”
She and her sister had repeated these words to the girls countless times, emphasizing them again and again.
But the girls could never escape the shadows in their hearts.
They continued to believe it was their fault. They felt they deserved punishment, that they ought to live in torment for the rest of their lives to atone for their sins—to wash the guilt from their souls through suffering inflicted upon their bodies.
They did not want to die, yet they could not free themselves from the shadow of having killed someone. All they could do was hurt themselves again and again.
Yan Liangrong came over with Tao Jiang in tow. “Try looking at it from another angle.”
Yan Liangrong looked at Ding Xin. “You did something wrong, so spend your whole life making amends. But make amends in another way.”
Ding Xin stared at her, bewildered.
Yan Liangrong gave her a faint smile. “After you divorce him, take your mother and start over. Change your name, change your household registration, and move somewhere else. There, use all your strength to help ordinary people who are struggling or suffering through no fault of their own. Hurting yourself only eases the guilt in your own heart. It does nothing for the dead or the living. So why not do something meaningful instead?”
“Me?” Ding Xin pointed at herself, as though she could not believe that someone as weak as her could help anyone else.
“Yes, you can.” Yan Liangrong smiled. “Even a bowl of rice, a single grain of rice, can help someone. You have hands and feet—why can’t you do it? Once you have your household registrations changed, I will petition the court to send skilled female workers to teach you practical ways to make a living. I believe that as long as you study hard, you will be able to begin a new, happy life in a new place.”
The premise was that they had to truly let themselves go.
Ding Xin was clearly persuaded.
She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and gathered every ounce of strength she had to fight the fear in her heart. “I-I will do my best.”
Yan Liangrong and Yan Liangyu were delighted to see that she had made up her mind.
Yan Liangyu took several constables with her to help Ding Xin move out of the Niu household, while Yan Liangrong led Tao Jiang back to the Tao home.
Inside the Tao residence, Tao Yang was still tied up, lying on the bed.
“Big Sister.”
Tao Jiang released Yan Liangrong’s hand, ran to Tao Yang’s side, and climbed onto her knees beside the bed. “Big Sister, the bad people have been caught.”
Her lips trembled, but she could not wait to tell her.
“All those bad people—the ones who hurt you, who hurt Sister Lu Lan, who hurt Sister Ding Xin—all of them... they’ve been caught.”
Tao Yang’s dim eyes shifted slightly.
“Jiang...”
“It’s me, Big Sister.” Tao Jiang wrapped her arms around Tao Yang. “Big Sister, did you hear me? The bad people have been caught. The Emperor personally led people to arrest them. Lord Yan of Kaifeng Prefecture sentenced them to be taken to the execution grounds at Caishikou and beheaded in three days. They have been punished. They’ve been caught. They will never be able to hurt you again.”
“Caught... caught... catch the bad people... bad people.” Tao Yang began struggling violently. “Jiang, run! Run quickly!”
Tao Jiang burst into tears.
The bad people had been caught, but it seemed her sister would never recover.
Yan Liangrong stepped forward and told Tao Yang again and again that it was not her fault. She had been drugged. She had not been in her right mind. She had been forced.
Yan Liangrong did not know how many times she repeated it. After a long while, Tao Yang finally calmed down and fell into a deep sleep.
Yan Liangrong said goodbye to Tao Jiang and stepped out of the Tao residence.
The sun blazed fiercely overhead.
The criminals had been captured, and in three days they would be taken to Caishikou for execution.
Yet even after committing such evil, they could still eat and sleep soundly. In court, they had shifted blame without the slightest burden on their consciences, their glib tongues twisting the truth and turning black into white.
Meanwhile, those who were truly kind had to suffer the torment of their consciences for a lifetime, living forever with their pain.
It was utterly infuriating.
Yan Liangrong’s heart burned with hatred, yet she did not know what else could be done.
The death penalty was already the ultimate punishment.
Could she wait until these people were dead, then drag out their bodies and hack them to pieces all over again?
What good would that do?
Once they were dead, they would feel no pain even if they were dismembered.
Yan Liangrong pressed her palms together, closed her eyes, and silently prayed that these young women would soon be able to forget those crushing memories and be reborn into new lives.
...
Early the next morning, Yan Tongshu arrived at Kaifeng Prefecture. Li Fulin was already waiting to report to her about the conversation Prince Ming and Yan Qichu had held in the dungeon the day before.
Bowing, Li Fulin asked, “Lord Yan, should we first seek an audience with His Majesty?”
“Say what?” Yan Tongshu asked.
Li Fulin was silent for a moment. “We should at least try to persuade him, shouldn’t we?”
Yan Tongshu rotated the clean calligraphy brush between his fingers. “Let’s wait a little longer. The execution is in three days, and today is only the second. There isn’t much time left. Let’s see what Prince Ming has to say after he enters the palace.”
“Yes.”
Yan Tongshu looked toward the door. The weather was lovely today, with clear skies and gentle sunlight.
Elsewhere, not long after the morning court session, Prince Ming personally entered the palace.
The Hall of Audience was as solemn and imposing as ever.
As if he had expected Prince Ming’s arrival, Qin Yi showed no surprise. He said calmly, “It has been a long time since I played chess with Prince Ming. The weather is fine today—why don’t we have a game?”
Lu Xi brought over a chessboard. Qin Yi sat down first and beckoned Prince Ming to take a seat.
They drew lots to determine who would play which color.
Qin Yi took the black stones, while Prince Ming took the white.
Qin Yi made the first move, and Prince Ming followed.
Before long, the black and white stones were scattered across the board. Prince Ming narrowed his eyes. This game looked familiar.
It was the unfinished game he had once played with the Late Crown Prince.
Back then, before he had gained power, he had attached himself to Sikong Tangjin, maneuvering among the various factions.
Before the Late Crown Prince received the imperial edict ordering him to go and provide disaster relief, he had summoned Prince Ming alone to the Crown Prince’s residence and played chess with him, hoping that Prince Ming would join him in opposing the factional struggles.
At the time, Prince Ming had tactfully refused. That game of chess had consequently remained unfinished.
Qin Yi made one move, and Prince Ming made the next. Five more moves remained before the position would become exactly the same as it had been in that game all those years ago.
Prince Ming narrowed his eyes and finally asked, “Your Majesty, what conditions would be enough for you to spare my son?”
Qin Yi continued playing without answering.
At last, he placed the final stone.
This was where the game had stopped back then.
Everything had stopped here.
Qin Yi raised his head. With his long, fair fingers, he picked up a black stone from the chess bowl.
“Your move.”
Prince Ming stared at the board. The black and white stones crisscrossed in a tightly balanced formation, making the outcome impossible to discern.
He could not help wondering: If the game back then had not been interrupted by the incident at Hongqiao, and it had been played to the end by the Late Crown Prince and Sikong Tangjin, who would have won?
Prince Ming considered the position carefully before placing a stone.
The moment the white stone touched the board, Qin Yi’s black stone followed, as though he had already simulated and calculated this game countless times in his mind.
No matter where the white stone moved, he had a corresponding strategy.
Qin Yi said slowly, “You’ve been puzzled by Meng Yi’s game, haven’t you?”
As he contemplated the board, Prince Ming asked with feigned indifference, “Should I have been puzzled by that game?”
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Qin Yi’s lips.
“Then does Prince Ming think he won?”
The expression on Prince Ming’s face stiffened slightly.
Snap.
Qin Yi placed another stone, his middle finger nudging the black piece upward to its proper position.
Qin Yi’s voice was low. “Prince Ming, I personally presided over this case alongside Yan Tongshu. No matter what conditions you offer, I will not issue a special pardon.”
The muscles in Prince Ming’s face twitched almost imperceptibly. He said calmly, “Would Your Majesty not hear my conditions first? Perhaps I am getting old and wish to retire.”
Qin Yi smiled and continued the game.
It was merely a probe.
Having come this far and paid nearly everything he possessed, no one would willingly turn back.
What was more, in his position as Prince Ming, the lives and fortunes of far too many people were tied to him. Even if he wished to withdraw, the others would never allow him to do so.
Qin Yi said slowly, “During the Meng Yi case, I said that I would purge factional strife. Then I absolutely cannot become involved in it myself. You think you won in the Meng Yi case…”
“But in truth, you lost completely.” Qin Yi lifted his gaze. His features were calm, his tone level, yet it carried an unshakable force.
The usually genial expression on Prince Ming’s face turned cold.
Qin Yi’s voice grew steadier still. “You thought that with Meng Yi gone, the Meng family would turn away from me. Yet Meng Zheng broke your scheme with the heart of a true innocent. You thought that losing a capable general like Meng Yi would deal me a devastating blow. But you forgot that where the people’s will lies, no force can withstand it. Officials, merchants, farmers—they are all the people.”
He asked, “Have you been unable to understand why, ever since the Meng Yi case, all your schemes have suddenly begun to falter? Because I loathe factional strife…”
Qin Yi’s gaze sharpened. “...And the people of this realm have suffered deeply from it; they loathe it as well. Factional strife devours everything. Just as it did to the Earl of Yuguo: even when his own son died, he did not dare openly investigate the murderer. He could only swallow his grief and claim that Ning Yuan had died of illness.
“Just as it has done today—it has devoured the bond between you and the son you raised with your own hands. A relationship bound only by profit, stripped of humanity and all moral limits—do you dare trust such a thing? I employ Meng Zheng; I dare to trust those I use. I dare to trust in the measures of Heaven and Earth, in the bright witness of sun and moon. Do you? Would you dare entrust your back to the Earl of Yuguo, to Wang Quan'an?”
Prince Ming’s expression darkened. The hand clutching a white stone trembled faintly.
Taking in every detail, Qin Yi spoke again. “It is not only the ministers left behind by the late emperor, nor only the new generation that has risen since. Even your own people—those you have bound to yourself with profit and pledges of allegiance—have already lost their way out. But what of everyone else?
“‘Grateful for fair deliberation; crooked self-interest is not what we seek.’ You cannot stop the countless people in the middle and lower ranks—the ones you have continually exploited and drained—from leaving you. Your foundation will collapse bit by bit. It will go on collapsing. And the longer it takes, the more it crumbles, the more crushing your defeat will be.”
“Chess resembles life. Yet among all living things, no one is truly willing to be a mindless chess piece. Not you. Not I. Not peddlers and porters, common soldiers and petty clerks.
“When fairness prevails, the realm is at peace; peace is born of justice. Schemes and trickery, deceit and fraud, forming factions to attack others—these will never achieve anything great.”
Qin Yi picked up a black stone and held it before Prince Ming’s eyes.
Click.
The black stone fell.
The white stones in the upper-right corner had nowhere left to run.
At last, he had finished this game of chess for the Late Crown Prince.
And everything else—he would also carry it through for his elder brother, step by step.
The game was over, and all that needed to be said had been said. Lu Xi anxiously saw Prince Ming out.
He had served Qin Yi for ten years and had seen Prince Ming countless times.
No matter the occasion, Prince Ming had always worn a cheerful, kindly expression.
But today, his face was shadowed and grim, as though he wished to kill someone.
As Lu Xi returned to report back, he glanced once more over his shoulder at Prince Ming.
It was a bright, sunlit day, mild and fair. Threads of white had appeared in Prince Ming’s hair, hanging at his temples.
Yes—Prince Ming had grown old. But the emperor was still young.
People come and go; generations pass, and all becomes history.
Nothing in this world is fairer than time—and nothing is crueler.
Lu Xi withdrew his gaze and hurried back to Chui Gong Hall.
Qin Yi summoned Deng Xuanying, Commander of the Divine Strategy Army, and ordered her to dispatch a team to keep the Kaifeng Prefecture under close surveillance. Under no circumstances were any substitutions or swaps to be allowed involving Yan Qichu and the other ten.
Deng Xuanying replied crisply, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
By dusk, Qin Yi had finished reviewing the memorials. Exhausted in both body and mind, he looked up to find Snowfluff sprawled lazily across the imperial desk. Golden sunset light fell over its plump little face as it gave a soft sound and stretched luxuriously.
How carefree. How comfortable.
For no apparent reason, a flare of irritation rose in him.
He had spent the entire day laboring over memorials, while Snowfluff was over there enjoying life.
Qin Yi pressed his lips together and said, “Lu Xi.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. This servant is here.”
“Did no one come to the palace today?”
Lu Xi answered carefully, “Your Majesty, all the officials awaiting an audience have already been received.”
Qin Yi gave a faint, cold laugh. Some people really were just like Snowfluff—utterly lacking in tact, yet always managing to annoy him.
…
Time to clock out.
Yan Tongshu swiftly packed everything from her desk into her bag, then happily left work with Zhenzhu and Jinbao.
On the way back to the Yan residence, she bought three bags of fried dried fish. The three of them each got a bag.
After arriving home, Jinbao went to put away the carriage. Yan Tongshu and Zhenzhu, humming a tune and crunching on their little fish snacks, happily made their way inside.
The moment Yan Tongshu returned to her own courtyard and pushed open the gate, she saw Qin Yi sitting there in casual clothes, entertaining Yuanzi with a small ball.
Yan Tongshu was stunned.
The corner of her mouth twitched sharply. She had Zhenzhu withdraw first, then walked over to Qin Yi and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
Qin Yi’s gaze shifted slightly. Idly tossing the ball up and down in his hand, he said slowly, “This is a private setting.”
In other words, she did not need to stand on ceremony as his subject.
Since that was the case, Yan Tongshu did not hold back. She sat directly on the stool beside him and asked bluntly, “What are you doing in my courtyard?”
Qin Yi glanced at her and tossed the ball back to Yuanzi. “Snowfluff is acting up again.”
Oh.
So Snowfluff’s lovesickness had struck again.
Yan Tongshu calculated the time in her head. That made sense. Ever since the accounts investigation, she had not brought Yuanzi into the palace to visit Snowfluff. Qin Yi was the emperor and busy with state affairs, so he had not brought Snowfluff out of the palace either.
Now that the case was closed, he should finally have some time.
Yan Tongshu smiled at Snowfluff. “Little Xuerong, come here. Let big brother hold you.”
Snowfluff’s fluffy, plump tail flicked, but it continued gazing dreamily at Yuanzi.
“Snowfluff~”
Snowfluff had eyes and heart only for Yuanzi.
Hmph.
That little rascal.
Yan Tongshu got annoyed. She called, “Yuanzi,” and Yuanzi immediately trotted over obediently and curled up in her arms.
Yan Tongshu gave Snowfluff a smug little humph.
Sure enough, Yuanzi was still the cutest—and loved her the most.
Seeing Yuanzi run into Yan Tongshu’s arms to enjoy the attention, Snowfluff followed after them with a longing look. Then it gazed at Yan Tongshu with those beautiful odd-colored eyes.
Yan Tongshu’s heart instantly melted. Generously, she opened up half her embrace and let Snowfluff climb in as well.
“Meow~”
Snowfluff happily snuggled into her arms, rubbing its round little head against Yan Tongshu.
“Young Master, look.” Yan Tongshu raised her head and looked at Qin Yi. “Snowfluff is very healthy.”
Qin Yi lowered his gaze, his eyes slowly traveling from Yan Tongshu’s brows and eyes downward.
“Young Master?” Yan Tongshu called again.
Qin Yi gave a soft hum and came back to himself. “Prince Ming entered the palace today to plead on Yan Qichu’s behalf.”
“Oh.” Yan Tongshu lowered her head, scratching Yuanzi under the chin one moment and petting Snowfluff the next.
Both little creatures were unbelievably adorable, and they were especially fond of her.
“Yan Tongshu.” Qin Yi’s tone darkened slightly. “Have you nothing to say?”
Yan Tongshu thought for a moment. “Young Master, have you had dinner?”
Qin Yi laughed in exasperation. “You’re something else.”
Pretending not to understand was one thing. She had not even called him by name.
And after only such a short while, she was already sending him away, telling him to return to the palace for dinner.
Yan Tongshu glanced at Qin Yi in confusion. Why were his emotions fluctuating so wildly? It was baffling. Shouldn’t an emperor keep his feelings hidden?
Though she could not make sense of it, Yan Tongshu still asked, “Young Master, on my way back, I only ate three pieces of crispy fried dried fish, and I’m starving now. If you haven’t had dinner either, and you don’t mind simple fare, I’ll have Pearl bring the food over, and we can eat together?”
Qin Yi awkwardly looked away. “Now that you mention it, I do seem to be a little hungry.”
“Oh.” Yan Tongshu set Yuanzi and Snowfluff down. “Then I’ll have Pearl fetch it from the kitchen.”
Madam Yan kept a fixed schedule. Yan Tongshu, Yan Liangyu, and Yan Liangrong now all held official positions, so the time they returned home varied. As a result, they usually ate separately.
Yan Tongshu called out to Pearl. Before long, Pearl and the maids brought in the meal.
There were three dishes and a soup in all.
Yan Tongshu handed Qin Yi a pair of chopsticks, then picked up her own and began eating with gusto.
Qin Yi placed a piece of meat in his bowl. Even the rice was more translucent than that in the palace—soft, glutinous, and sweetly fragrant.
Qin Yi lowered his eyes and smiled, looking at Yan Tongshu.
This brat always managed to find all sorts of delicious things.
Like those cherries last time.
Fresh and plump.
Sweet and tart, bursting with juice.
Warm.
Soft...
He’d gone mad!
