August, the relentless summer heat lingered.
Even the Qin Prince's Mansion’s study was stocked with ice blocks. Song Yu had been sitting there since returning from court in the morning, buried in books until dusk, barely pausing to eat a few hurried bites of meals served in the study.
"Your Highness, Minister Ye has sent another batch of practice exam booklets to the Guo residence."
Liuxi struggled into the study, arms laden with stacks of booklets. "Minister Ye also relayed a message: since the Emperor will personally appoint the chief examiner for the provincial exams, and their preferences are unknown, Your Highness must prepare even more diligently. These booklets are just the beginning—more will follow."
Plop—
A drop of ink splattered onto the rice paper, blooming into a dark blot.
"This prince understands."
Song Yu’s voice was heavy with exhaustion.
What a fine friend Ye Shijie was.
Before Song Yu could fully digest the news of his intensified study regimen, Liuxi spoke again, "Your Highness, Minister Shen has also sent booklets and a message..."
The sheer volume of the booklets made Song Yu feel as though the sky had collapsed.
"Didn’t I tell you to inform Shen Mingwen that Ye Shijie has already sent me a mountain of booklets?"
"This servant did."
Liuxi wore an expression of helplessness. "But Minister Shen said he has served as chief examiner for the imperial examinations—his experience far surpasses Minister Ye’s. If Your Highness is pressed for time, he suggested prioritizing his booklets."
Song Yu let out a bitter laugh.
Was this what it meant to be caught between two literary titans?
"Understood. This prince will diligently complete them!" Song Yu gritted his teeth. It was clear now—no matter how tirelessly he worked, he’d never keep up with their relentless deliveries.
His brush flew across the paper, as if trying to strike sparks from the page.
A hard-earned lesson: never have two formidable tutors at once.
......
Meanwhile, in the Zichen Hall.
"Your Majesty, Sun You has surrendered all the embezzled grain. I’ve already dispatched it to the northern frontier, to be distributed to the people under Young General Gu’s supervision."
At Shen Qingping’s report, Emperor Yuanyou paused, the memorial in his hand momentarily still.
"Come to think of it, Gu Mingning hasn’t returned to the capital in years."
Gu Mingning, eldest son of Gu Zheng, had left the capital at fifteen, spear in hand, for the northern frontier—five years ago.
"Indeed, Your Majesty. It has been five years."
The Emperor glanced at Shen Qingping. "Bringing him up so suddenly—did Gu Zheng tell you he misses his son?"
With Shen Qingping’s fox-like shrewdness, surpassing even his father’s, he wouldn’t mention Gu Mingning without reason.
"Not General Gu, but the Princess proposed that Young General Gu oversee the grain distribution. Once done, he could return to the capital briefly to express the frontier people’s gratitude for Your Majesty’s benevolence."
Generals stationed outside the capital were forbidden to return without summons—this was a perfect opportunity.
"Ahuan’s suggestion is excellent. Let Gu Mingning return, then."
Emperor Yuanyou smiled. "As expected, my Ahuan is the most thoughtful and kind-hearted."
Shen Qingping left the hall with a wry twist of his lips. When he made proposals, the Emperor demanded explanations. When the Princess did, it was simply "thoughtful and kind-hearted."
The gap between people truly was a chasm.
......
At the Gu residence.
"The Emperor truly agreed?" Gu Zheng’s voice trembled with emotion, while Gu Mingliu burst into tears.
"Why would I deceive you, General Gu? However, Young General Gu’s stay in the capital will be brief—likely only a day or two." Shen Qingping sighed at the sight of the family’s reaction.
The world praised their loyalty, but only the Gu family knew the price they paid.
"Just seeing him once is enough," Gu Zheng murmured, hands shaking beneath his sleeves. "We owe this to the Princess and to you, Young Master Shen."
"General Gu, regarding my elder brother’s past actions..."
"Consider it forgotten."
Gu Zheng spoke without hesitation. "I’ll act as though it never happened."
"My gratitude, General."
......
The next day, Qin Prince’s Mansion.
Under the old tree in the courtyard, Song Shihuan and Shen Qingping, master and disciple, faced each other over a chessboard, cooled by Yingchun and Baoxia’s jade-handled fans.
Baoxia suppressed a smile, amused that the Princess and Shen Qingping now played chess outdoors to avoid disturbing Song Yu’s studies.
"The Princess’s suggestion to recall Young General Gu not only reunites the Gu family briefly but also dissolves their resentment toward Shen Qinghui. Two birds with one stone."
"Correction—both the Shen and Gu families will remember the Princess’s kindness. Three birds, then."
Song Shihuan chuckled, placing a piece. "I only knew five years had passed—a father missing his son, a sister her brother, and a brother his family."
"Aligning with heaven’s will and human bonds—that is true principle."
As the piece landed, Shen Qingping’s smile deepened.
Who would believe the chess prodigy cornering him was an eleven-year-old girl?
"By the way, most of the trafficked women rescued from Tongling County have returned home. Only one remains—the girl locked in the brothel’s woodshed. She’s too traumatized to speak of her origins."
"The one found in the firewood shed?"
Song Shihuan’s hand hovered mid-move.
"Indeed."
"I’ll see her. Now."
Shen Qingping blinked, surprised by her urgency.
......
The girl, no older than Song Shihuan, was skeletal, sheltered in a temporary residence.
At the sight of her emaciated frame, Song Shihuan’s heart clenched.
In her past life, she too had been locked away, starved and beaten. That was why this girl stood out.
Hearing footsteps, the girl shrank further into the corner, every inch radiating fear.
"I am Princess Fu’an. You’ve seen me before."
The girl’s dull eyes flickered to life.
"I know you," she whispered, her first words since rescue. "You saved me."
She’d heard Song Shihuan’s orders during the brothel raid.
"What’s your name? Where’s your home?"
Encouraged by her response, Song Shihuan softened.
"Mo Yu. I’m from Xiangyao County, Laijin Prefecture."
Laijin—
Outside, Shen Qingping’s stomach dropped.
Laijin was where Shen Qinghui served as prefect.
Song Shihuan’s chest ached sharply.
"Xiangyao County, Laijin. Shall I arrange your return?"
Mo Yu’s fingers timidly caught her sleeve.
"My mother’s gone. My father sold me. I... I just want to retrieve her keepsakes. But I have no home."
