On the other side.
"What? The Emperor is summoning me tomorrow?"
Shen Qingping paced anxiously in circles. "Your Highness, I've never been summoned by the Emperor before. This... Did His Majesty mention the reason?"
Was he about to be punished with a beating?
"How would I know?" Song Yu replied irritably. "Stop pacing—you're making me dizzy."
He was like a headless fly.
Song Shihuan watched Shen Qingping thoughtfully.
"Master Shen, perhaps tomorrow will bring good news."
"Good news for me?" Shen Qingping let out a bitter laugh. "Never mind. I’d better go inform the old man. If I end up getting beaten tomorrow, he can plead for mercy on my behalf."
That night, Shen Qingping didn’t sleep a wink.
...
The next day, Shen Qingping stood before Emperor Yuanyou, dark circles under his eyes, his mind blank.
The Emperor studied him for a long moment, unable to fathom how his granddaughter had chosen such a man as her teacher.
"This humble commoner greets Your Majesty."
"Shen Qingping, I’ve heard you’ve spent your youth idling about, frequenting pleasure houses, dallying with women," Emperor Yuanyou began, his words sending a chill down Shen Qingping’s spine. "You even drove your father to illness with your antics."
"Are these rumors true?"
Shen Qingping inwardly groaned. Of course, nothing good would come from this summons.
"This humble one is guilty. I beg Your Majesty’s punishment." He pressed his forehead to the floor, already feeling the executioner’s blade at his neck.
"You beg for punishment?" Emperor Yuanyou’s lips curled into an enigmatic smile. "Yesterday, A-Huan was slighted because of your reputation. If I were to judge your crimes, I could have you executed right now."
A wave of icy dread washed over Shen Qingping.
"I command you to stay away from my granddaughter—and from the Qin Prince’s Mansion."
At the Emperor’s words, Shen Qingping—who had always prioritized self-preservation—suddenly found himself speaking recklessly. "Your Majesty, you may as well execute me now."
"What did you say? Defying me is a capital offense." The Emperor’s gaze darkened, the oppressive weight of his presence intensifying.
"Your Majesty, this humble one and His Highness the Prince are... close friends," Shen Qingping stammered, his tongue tripping over itself. "Though I lack talent, I excel in the qin. The young mistress is my most treasured disciple..."
"I beg Your Majesty to punish me alone. Do not involve my family."
By the time he finished speaking, his entire body trembled.
He had thought this summons might end in a beating—not his life.
But to abandon his closest friend and forsake his gifted disciple? He couldn’t do it.
If death was the price, so be it.
Shen Qingping took a deep breath and braced for the Emperor’s judgment.
"Rise. Wu Qi, prepare a seat."
The words stunned Shen Qingping. He blinked, certain he had misheard.
Only when Wu Qi stepped forward with a kindly smile to help him up did Shen Qingping realize his legs had gone weak—he could barely stand.
"As A-Huan’s teacher, you must at least hold a respectable position. You won’t be granted a noble title, but your calligraphy is exceptional. You shall serve as a compiler in the Hanlin Academy. Use this opportunity to study more."
Shen Qingping stood frozen, as if lost between past and present.
"Lord Shen, you must thank His Majesty," Wu Qi gently reminded him.
"This humble—no, your servant thanks Your Majesty for this undeserved grace." Shen Qingping felt as though he had crossed into another lifetime. One moment, his head had nearly rolled; the next, he was a seventh-rank official?
"Lord Shen, if you were a man of true learning, even playing the qin for courtesans would be seen as the act of a romantic scholar. But if you remain a wastrel, no one will care for your music." Emperor Yuanyou fixed him with a piercing stare. "I will not have the day come when A-Huan plays the qin, only for others to recall your disgrace."
"A teacher protected by his student—what a farce."
Long after leaving the palace, the Emperor’s words echoed in Shen Qingping’s mind.
"Third Master, the old master will be overjoyed to hear of your new position," his servant Jiu'er said cheerfully.
But Shen Qingping’s expression remained grim. The Emperor’s words had struck true.
"Jiu'er, I won’t be visiting the Spring Welcome Pavilion anymore."
Jiu'er turned to him in shock. Since when had his master changed his ways?
...
After his audience with Emperor Yuanyou, Shen Qingping seemed a changed man.
Just like Song Yu had been not long ago.
Where the two had once gossiped about cricket fights, fine wine, and beautiful women, they now debated politics, often clashing over their views.
Song Shihuan was delighted.
One prodigal’s return was rare enough—but two?
On a rare day off from the girls’ school, Shen Qingping arrived early at the Qin Prince’s Mansion to teach Song Shihuan the qin, while Song Yu remained in his study.
"Your Highness, the Crown Princess has arrived," Liuxi announced, interrupting Song Yu’s reading.
Song Yu frowned. "Is she alone?"
Liuxi nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. She brought gifts."
"Here to cause trouble again," Song Yu muttered, rising to meet her at the gates.
Outside the mansion, the Crown Princess smiled warmly. "Elder Brother, I came to see A-Huan—and to apologize on Xi Yan’s behalf."
Song Yu barely glanced at her. If not for fear of his father’s scolding, he wouldn’t have let anyone from the Eastern Palace set foot inside. The very thought disgusted him.
He strode ahead, forcing the Crown Princess to nearly jog to keep up.
But she swallowed her irritation. If the Emperor wouldn’t relent, she had to persuade the Qin Prince’s Mansion to spare the Chang family.
Since Song Yu doted on Song Shihuan, winning the girl’s favor was her only hope.
Just as she plotted her approach, a clear, ethereal melody drifted through the air.
The qin’s notes were pure and transcendent, like celestial music.
The Crown Princess held her breath. Such beauty—was there an immortal dwelling in the Qin Prince’s Mansion?
"Master, was that correct?"
Song Shihuan looked up at Shen Qingping with a radiant smile.
Realizing the music had come from her, the Crown Princess stiffened. The pastries in her hands tumbled to the ground as she stared in disbelief.
That flawless performance—it was Song Shihuan?
"The young mistress is the most gifted student I’ve ever had," Shen Qingping praised without reserve. "Such music belongs in the heavens. My ears are blessed today."
Song Shihuan beamed at his words—until she noticed the Crown Princess.
Her smile vanished.
"Why has the Crown Princess come?"
Her tone was icy, devoid of warmth.
