“Indeed, I am a student. Shi Huai pays his respects to Princess Jinse.”
Shi Huai rose to his feet, turned to face Princess Jinse, and bowed with impeccable propriety. His waist bent at just the right angle, and his voice was as clear and gentle as a mountain stream.
Princess Jinse felt half her bones go weak at the way he addressed her as “Princess,” and the handkerchief in her hand slipped to the floor once more.
This time, she did not bother to pick it up. She simply stared blankly at Shi Huai’s face, as if she wanted to carve that image into her very bones.
In her thirteen years, she had met countless talented young men: top scholars with brilliant literary gifts, young generals of extraordinary valor…
But she had never seen a face like this one.
He was so beautiful that it made her want to gather up everything precious she owned and place it before him.
“You… lift your head and let me have a look at you.”
Princess Jinse’s voice sounded a little airy. It carried the commanding tone unique to a princess, yet there was also a hint of unnatural guilt in it.
Because she had realized that she did not actually dare to look directly into Shi Huai’s eyes.
Shi Huai lifted his head, and his gaze collided with Princess Jinse’s.
Princess Jinse felt as though a hammer had struck her heart with tremendous force. Her mind went blank.
She stumbled backward half a step and hit the threshold behind her. She nearly fell, but the Crown Prince reached out and caught her, allowing her to regain her balance. The tips of her ears were red as if they had caught fire, and her heart pounded like a drum.
“Jinse, are you all right?”
The Crown Prince frowned as he looked at his sister’s dazed expression. An indescribable irritation welled up inside him.
Princess Jinse shook her head, pulled free of the Crown Prince’s hand, and took two more steps forward until she stood before Shi Huai.
She tilted her head back to look at him, her gaze lingering over his face—from his brows to his eyes, from his eyes to his nose, from his nose to his lips. She examined every inch of him.
“Shi Huai, will you come to the palace often from now on?”
The girlish innocence and anticipation in Princess Jinse’s voice were nearly impossible to conceal. “I want to hear you compose poetry. The poems you write are so beautiful.”
Shi Huai stepped back half a pace, widening the distance between them. A polite smile touched his lips, and though his voice remained clear and gentle, it now held a faint note of reserve.
“The princess is too kind. My studies at the Imperial Academy are demanding. I’m afraid I won’t be able to come very often.”
His cool, indifferent manner left Princess Jinse both anxious and restless. She took a step forward, once again closing the distance between them.
The pale-yellow hem of her skirt swayed gently, forming an elegant arc.
“Then I’ll ask Father to issue an edict ordering you to come to the palace and teach me poetry every day.”
Princess Jinse wore the willful expression of a spoiled child, the corners of her lips curving upward as though victory were already hers.
The Crown Prince’s expression darkened at once. He reached out, seized his sister by the arm, and pulled her aside. His voice was low and carried a trace of sternness.
“Jinse, stop fooling around. Shi Huai is a student of the Imperial Academy, not your companion.”
The princess was startled by her brother’s severity. Her lips trembled into a pout, and her eyes reddened slightly.
But she did not cry. She bit her lip and looked past her brother’s shoulder toward Shi Huai once more.
Shi Huai stood where he was. His dark blue brocade robe gleamed with a warm luster in the candlelight, while a silver-gray fox-fur cloak rested across his shoulders. A few strands of his black hair had slipped free from his white jade hairpin and fallen against the side of his face.
As Princess Jinse gazed at the scene, it felt as though someone had gently kneaded her heart. It was both sore and soft.
An indescribable emotion surged up from the depths of her heart and lodged in her throat, impossible to swallow down.
All at once, Jinse turned and ran out of the reception hall.
She ran so quickly that even the palace maids behind her could not catch up.
They called after her several times, “Princess, slow down!” But she acted as though she could not hear them. Her footsteps grew faster and faster until, at last, she vanished behind the moon gate as if fleeing for her life.
The Crown Prince watched his sister’s hurried retreat, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. He turned toward Shi Huai, only to find that Shi Huai had already sat down again and was leisurely sipping his tea.
In the steam rising from the cup, that beautiful face seemed unreal, like a painting viewed through a veil of mist.
“My sister is simply like that. Don’t take it personally.”
The Crown Prince cleared his throat and lifted the cup before him, taking a large gulp.
The tea was scalding. It made him wince, but he forced himself not to spit it out.
Shi Huai set down his teacup and shook his head, a faint smile resting on his lips. “The princess is innocent and carefree. How could I possibly take offense?”
Those words—“innocent and carefree”—left the Crown Prince feeling both sour and bitter. He was sour because his sister had received Shi Huai’s praise, and bitter because that praise had not been meant for him.
He placed the teacup on the table and gently rubbed a finger along its rim. After doing so for quite some time, he finally managed to force out a question.
“What do you think… of me?”
Shi Huai lifted his eyes to look at the Crown Prince.
He tilted his head as if seriously considering the question, then let the corners of his lips curve upward.
“Your Highness is courteous to the worthy and approachable to all. You possess the makings of a rare and enlightened ruler.”
The Crown Prince’s heart raced beneath that gaze, and the words “the makings of an enlightened ruler” sent hot blood surging through him.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say, I’m not asking for empty pleasantries. But when the words reached his lips, he felt that saying them would make him seem far too eager.
So he swallowed them and replaced them with, “From now on, you can call me Chengqian. There’s no need to call me Your Highness. It makes us sound so distant.”
Shi Huai’s hand paused slightly around his teacup. Then he raised his eyes, a faint smile in them.
“Propriety must be observed. Your Highness is the sovereign, and I am your subject. I would not dare overstep.”
Those words—“I would not dare overstep”—felt to the Crown Prince like a basin of cold water had been poured over him.
The chill ran from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.
Another burst of footsteps sounded outside the reception hall, more hurried and heavier than Princess Jinse’s had been, as though someone were making their way over in a state of restless impatience.
The curtain was suddenly swept aside. Shen Jinghong stood in the doorway, dressed in a sapphire-blue brocade robe. His peach-blossom eyes were half narrowed, and the corners of his lips curved in a seemingly amused smile.
His gaze swept across the reception hall, passing over the Crown Prince and the tea and pastries on the table before finally settling on Shi Huai. His pupils contracted slightly.
Shen Jinghong did not enter right away. He simply leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded, his posture so languid that he looked less like he was in the Eastern Palace and more like he was standing in his own flower hall.
“Your Highness, I have come without an invitation. Surely Your Highness won’t hold it against me?”
Shen Jinghong’s voice was lazy, carrying the innate arrogance and swagger of a man born to privilege. Yet the amusement in his peach-blossom eyes did not reach their depths.
Shen Jinghong straightened from the doorframe and sauntered into the reception hall. His sapphire-blue brocade robe shimmered in the candlelight, revealing fine, intricate patterns.
He came to a stop beside Shi Huai and looked at the Crown Prince, the curve of his lips deepening.
“I heard that Your Highness invited Shi Huai to the Eastern Palace to discuss poetry. I’m a lover of poetry myself, so I thought I’d come and join in the fun. Surely Your Highness won’t refuse me?”
