The Emperor received Consort Rong’s memorial during the morning court session three days later.
Consort Rong wrote that the Third Prince was growing older, and that the instruction provided by the palace tutor could no longer satisfy his thirst for knowledge. She hoped the Emperor would graciously permit the Third Prince to study at the Imperial Academy, where he could exchange ideas with the finest talents in the realm and learn alongside them.
The memorial was exquisitely written, filled with classical references, ornate phrasing, and heartfelt sentiment.
It was obvious at a glance that Consort Rong had hired someone to polish it.
After reading the memorial, the Emperor was silent for a moment. Then he picked up his vermilion brush and wrote a single word on it:
“Approved.”
The Crown Prince was having lunch in the Eastern Palace when he heard the news. The chopsticks in his hand struck the table with a sharp crack, and his face darkened like the sky before a storm.
He knew why his Third Brother wanted to go to the Imperial Academy.
He knew everything. He simply could do nothing about it.
Because he was the Crown Prince, he could not act as recklessly as his Third Brother.
For one fleeting moment, the Crown Prince no longer wanted to be Crown Prince at all.
But when he thought of the other “competitors,” he knew that without power, he could only…
Once he ascended the throne, he would become the master of the realm. Naturally, anything he wanted would be his to obtain.
The Crown Prince took a deep breath and held it in his chest for a long while before finally exhaling. He picked up his chopsticks again, only to discover that his fingers were trembling. The chopsticks shook between them, and even after three attempts, he could not pick up a single dish.
In the end, he simply put down the chopsticks, lifted his wine cup, and drained it in one swallow. The spicy liquor burned all the way down his throat and into his stomach, making his eyes redden.
The day the Third Prince transferred to the Imperial Academy was a beautiful autumn day.
The sky was as blue as if it had been washed clean, with a few white clouds drifting lazily overhead. The sunlight was warm but not harsh, and the breeze was gentle rather than cold.
The Third Prince wore a pale green brocade robe, a white jade belt around his waist, and a white jade crown securing his hair. With his imposing air, he stood at the entrance of the Imperial Academy like a tall young white poplar.
He drew a deep breath and walked through the academy gates with measured steps.
But only he knew that his heart was pounding like a war drum. His palms were slick with sweat, and even his clenched fists trembled slightly.
Du Ziteng stood waiting outside the classroom for Class A. When he saw his nephew approaching, the corners of his mouth twitched faintly. Lowering his voice, he said, “You really came?”
The Third Prince nodded. His gaze passed over his uncle’s shoulder and settled on the classroom beyond, searching for the figure in the moon-white robe.
Then he saw him.
Shi Huai sat by the window with his head lowered as he wrote. Morning light streamed through the carved lattice, making his face look so beautiful that it seemed unreal.
The Third Prince’s heart gave another violent thump. He drew a deep breath, held it in his chest for a long while, then slowly let it out. Finally, he stepped into the classroom.
Du Ziteng stood at the doorway, watching his nephew stride straight toward Shi Huai. The corners of his mouth twitched again, and he sighed inwardly.
This nephew of his was truly too much like him.
No—he was even crazier than Du Ziteng had been in his youth.
The Third Prince stopped in front of Shi Huai.
“Shi Huai, we meet again.”
Shi Huai raised his head and looked at him. “Chengrui? You really transferred here?”
That single “Chengrui” made the Third Prince’s heart race again, and the smile on his face nearly slipped.
He took a deep breath, maintaining his composed exterior, then sat down opposite Shi Huai.
Shen Jinghong leaned against the window, his peach-blossom eyes half narrowed as he watched the scene. An inscrutable, mocking smile curved his lips.
He spun the brush in his hand several times before finally slamming it onto the desk with a sharp crack. Ink splashed out and soaked a small patch of the tabletop, but he did not seem to notice.
Shi Huai sensed Shen Jinghong’s gaze and looked over at him.
Shen Jinghong immediately hid his cold expression and replaced it with a lazy smile. His peach-blossom eyes curved into crescent moons as he waved at Shi Huai, as if to say, “I’m fine. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
Shi Huai glanced at him once, then lowered his head and continued writing. The tip of his brush whispered across the rice paper.
Leaning against the window, Shen Jinghong watched the Third Prince’s face, practically covered in eagerness to please, and ground his teeth so hard they clicked.
Wasn’t one Crown Prince enough? Now there was a Third Prince too.
He took a deep breath and held it in his chest. His fingers clenched inside his sleeves until his knuckles turned white, and his nails dug into his palms, leaving rows of bloody marks.
When class ended, the Third Prince did not leave with the others. Instead, he sat across from Shi Huai, propping his face up with both hands as he watched Shi Huai pack his book bag without blinking.
“Shi Huai, what do you usually do at the Imperial Academy?” The Third Prince’s voice held the characteristic curiosity of a young man, along with a careful, restrained attempt to please.
Shi Huai tied his book bag shut and looked up at him. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Attend class, read, practice calligraphy, and occasionally take a walk in the gardens with my classmates.”
The Third Prince’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward, shortening the distance between them, his voice brimming with barely contained excitement.
“Then could you show me around the Imperial Academy? I just arrived, so I don’t know my way around yet.”
Shi Huai nodded and stood.
His moon-white robe gleamed softly in the afternoon light, setting off his refined, otherworldly features. He looked like a painting come to life.
The Third Prince rose after him. His heart pounded like a war drum, his palms were slick with sweat, and he followed Shi Huai out of the classroom.
Shen Jinghong leaned against a pillar in the corridor, arms crossed, watching the two figures disappear into the distance, one following behind the other. His lazy smile remained on his lips, but it never reached his eyes.
Wang Ren ran out of the classroom. His round face was covered in a cheerful smile, and his dimples deepened and shifted as he called after Shi Huai, “Shi Huai, wait for me! I’m coming too!”
As he caught up, he dashed past Shen Jinghong, stirring up a breeze that made the hem of Shen Jinghong’s robe flutter slightly.
Shen Jinghong watched Wang Ren’s carefree, thickheaded expression. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he cursed inwardly, “Idiot.”
Then he straightened and followed at an unhurried pace.
He told himself that he was not going to keep an eye on Shi Huai. He was only going to watch the new Third Prince and see what he was really up to.
Walking beside Shi Huai, the Third Prince secretly turned his head to look at his profile. The sunlight gilded Shi Huai’s face with a layer of gold, and the Third Prince’s heart beat so fast it felt as though it might leap straight out of his throat.
When his mother consort had asked why he wanted to come to the Imperial Academy, he had listed one reason after another—ten in all. Every argument had been sound, every word reasonable, and his explanation had been so dazzlingly eloquent that it could have passed for truth itself.
But there was only one real reason.
He wanted to see Shi Huai every day.
He wanted to hear Shi Huai’s voice, see his smile, breathe in the faint scent of soaproot that clung to him, and sit across from him while staring blankly at his face.
He wanted to be by Shi Huai’s side.
That thought had been planted like a seed in his heart the moment he first saw Shi Huai at the Imperial Academy. It had since grown wildly into a towering tree, filling his entire heart to the brim.
