The Shen Mansion.
"Where's my father?" Shen Qingping kicked open the study door, panting heavily, only to find the room empty.
"Third Master, the lord has gone to the ancestral hall," a servant hastily replied, sensing Shen Qingping's agitation.
The ancestral hall?
Before Shen Qingping could ponder further, he rushed off in a frenzy toward the ancestral hall.
"Father, you’re being shameless for your age!"
Inside the hall, Shen Mingwen, who had been offering incense to the ancestors, nearly dropped the incense stick at the sudden roar. As ash scattered onto his hand, he muttered a silent apology to the ancestors.
"You insolent brat! How dare you raise your voice in the sacred ancestral hall?" Shen Mingwen dragged Shen Qingping aside. "What’s the matter?"
"You’re asking me what’s the matter?" Shen Qingping was like a lit firecracker, ready to explode. "You stole my disciple! You, the illustrious zhuangyuan, have countless students—I only have this one!"
Was it too much to ask?
"You mean... the Emperor agreed to let me tutor the princess?" Shen Mingwen’s beard practically bristled with joy, his delight unmistakable.
Earlier in the Zichen Hall, the Emperor had said he needed time to consider. Shen Mingwen had feared refusal.
"Why are you celebrating?" Shen Qingping scowled. "Father, this is unfair. I won’t accept it."
The Emperor personally reviewed the county princess's cross-class examination papers. Her answers were leagues ahead of yours." Shen Mingwen knew his son’s limitations all too well. "Besides, you can still teach her music. What’s the issue?"
"The Emperor’s word is final. This cannot be changed."
Seeing his son’s frantic sweat, Shen Mingwen softened. "When your scholarship is sufficient to tutor the princess, I’ll return your disciple to you."
Otherwise, the Shen family would be failing the princess.
All of Shen Qingping’s fury dissolved into silence upon hearing about Song Shihuan’s exam performance.
"Scholarship and policy debates? Fine. I’ll learn from books and memorandums." Shen Qingping locked eyes with his father. "When I’ve mastered them, remember your promise."
His disciple—he’d reclaim her through merit.
"A gentleman’s word is his bond."
Shen Mingwen patted his son’s shoulder, then chuckled again at the thought of mentoring such a prodigy.
Infuriated, Shen Qingping stomped away.
He’d start studying now! And reviewing memorandums!
......
Three days later.
The headmistress announced the cross-class exam results: Song Shihuan and Song Xiling advanced to the top-tier Class A, while Gu Mingzhu, who’d only studied seriously for ten days, unsurprisingly failed.
Tearfully, Gu Mingzhu waved her handkerchief in farewell to Song Shihuan.
Nearly every student’s gaze lingered on Song Xiyan—the once-celebrated prodigy now demoted to Class C.
"Second Sister, need help packing?" Song Xiling’s smugness was a dagger to Song Xiyan’s pride. Months ago, Song Xiling had been her meek subordinate.
"No."
Eyes red, Song Xiyan lowered her head and left the Class A room.
As she departed, she shot Song Shihuan a venomous glare.
This humiliation would be etched into her memory—and repaid tenfold.
......
Half an hour later.
Gu Mingzhu sat beside Song Xiyan in Class C, tears streaming. Even the teacher noticed her distress.
"Miss Gu, are you unwell?"
Gu Mingzhu shook her head, vision blurred by tears.
"Teacher, I just... regret not studying harder before."
Her seatmate had gone from princess to... Song Xiyan. The agony!
The teacher brightened. Was the little troublemaker finally turning over a new leaf?
“It’s never too late to mend,” the teacher said encouragingly. “Though you failed this time, who’s to say you won’t rise like the princess and reach Class A next?”
Mention of Song Shihuan filled the teacher with pride.
Gu Mingzhu wiped her eyes and nodded fiercely.
She’d study hard.
Escape Song Xiyan. Return to the princess's side.
Wait for her!
......
In the following days, Emperor Yuanyou frequently sent Wu Qi to deliver books like Statecraft to Song Shihuan, baffling even Song Yu.
"Tell me, is Father that bored? He never bothered this much with our education."
His words hung in the air, unanswered.
Song Yu turned to find Shen Qingping already engrossed in a book—clutching it like a courtesan from the Spring House.
"Shen Qingping, have you lost your mind?"
"This is brilliant," Shen Qingping murmured. "I’ll have a copy made. Need to study it thoroughly."
Song Yu gaped.
Who was preparing for the imperial exams again—him or Shen Qingping?
Your Highness, you should read too," Shen Qingping advised earnestly. "Or else the princess's policy debates will outshine yours.
Song Yu frowned. Was he that lacking?
But after Shen Qingping recited Song Shihuan’s On Learning essay, Song Yu meekly picked up a book.
"Liu Xi, fetch me a copy as well."
Song Shihuan never imagined her essay would spark such fervor.
While the Qin Prince’s Mansion buzzed with scholarly zeal, Emperor Yuanyou pondered over a roster of potential brides in the Zichen Hall.
Should he appoint a crown princess for the Eastern Palace?
After much deliberation, he rose to visit his stroke-afflicted heir.
"Wu Qi, prepare the carriage. To the Eastern Palace."
......
Eastern Palace.
Song Yanzheng lit up at Emperor Yuanyou’s arrival.
"Grandson greets His Majesty."
The Emperor studied the Crown Prince’s frail state. A bedridden man could hardly lead a nation.
"Mei Zhilin," he asked quietly, "can the Crown Prince recover?"
"A sixty percent chance."
Though his face may never look the same, Mei Zhilin added silently.
Emperor Yuanyou sighed. Fate would decide.
As he turned to leave, a commotion erupted outside.
"Grand Sun! Please save Mei Xiang!" A servant wailed. "The physician confirmed her pregnancy, but the Crown Princess insists no concubine may bear a child before her. She’s forcing Mei Xiang to drink abortifacents!"
Before the Emperor could react, Song Yanzheng bolted toward the noise.
