That’s right—the things Lin Mo and Wang Ren had sent were all handmade.
Lin Mo’s tea had been personally picked, roasted, and dried by him.
As for Wang Ren’s pastries, he had personally apprenticed himself to several pastry chefs to learn how to make them.
Shi Huai knew all of this perfectly well.
The only thing they had in common was that both men had kept it hidden from him.
Shen Jinghong didn’t understand why. If it were him, he would have revealed it at the earliest opportunity to show his devotion.
Still, this worked in his favor, so he was more than happy to pretend he knew nothing.
Shen Jinghong mentally ran the Third Prince through from head to toe, criticizing him thoroughly. When he finished, he realized that he didn’t seem to have much standing to criticize the man after all.
The rare copy of A Catalogue of Poetry he had given Shi Huai hadn’t been written by him either. He had simply bought it with money. How was that any different from the one bestowed by imperial command upon the Third Prince?
He cursed himself in his head as well. When he finished, he only grew more irritable.
Wang Ren stood to the side, watching Shen Jinghong and the Third Prince trade barbs back and forth. His face was filled with anxiety.
He had realized that, among all these people, he was the one with the least to compete with.
In terms of family background, he had none.
The son of the Vice Minister of Revenue might still be able to put on airs in front of ordinary people, but before a prince and the grandson of a Grand Secretary, he was completely outmatched.
In terms of appearance, he had none either.
He had been born with a round face, and losing weight wouldn’t change that.
When he smiled, he looked as honest and simple as a country boy. Compared to Shen Jinghong’s breathtakingly beautiful, almost genderless face, they were worlds apart.
As for talent and learning, he had neither.
He hadn’t even passed the special imperial examination. He had only managed to enter the Imperial College through his father’s connections. Compared to Shi Huai, who had ranked first in the examination, he fell short by more than a little.
But he liked Shi Huai!
He liked him terribly.
He liked him so much that every morning, the first person he thought of upon opening his eyes was Shi Huai, and every night, the last person on his mind before falling asleep was also Shi Huai.
Wang Ren drew a deep breath, pressing that bitterness and inferiority down into his chest. Then he piled a smile back onto his round face.
He pushed the food box forward a little farther and said in his honest, heart-wrenching voice, “Shi Huai, take the osmanthus cakes home with you. You can have them to tide you over if you get hungry.”
Shi Huai glanced at him, then reached out to take the food box. A gentle smile touched the corners of his lips.
“Thank you, Brother Wang. I’ll take them home, then.”
That single “Thank you, Brother Wang” made Wang Ren’s nose sting and his eyes grow slightly red. He hurriedly lowered his head and pretended to straighten the strap of the food box, using the motion to force back the tears that were about to spill over.
Tangerine came bounding over just then, its round eyes fixed on the food box in Wang Ren’s hands. Its nose twitched as it sniffed the fragrance of the osmanthus cakes, and it kept meowing, “Meow, meow!”
Shi Huai glanced down at the restless orange cat on his lap and flicked it lightly on the head.
“Tangerine, didn’t you just eat? How are you hungry again?”
Tangerine narrowed its eyes at the flick. Instead of running away, it pushed its head into Shi Huai’s palm, and its purring grew even louder than before.
The Third Prince’s gaze fell on Tangerine, and a complicated emotion flashed through his eyes.
He had discovered that he was jealous of even a cat.
He was jealous that it could rub against Shi Huai’s hand without restraint. Jealous that it could curl up on Shi Huai’s lap and nap. Jealous that Shi Huai would flick it on the forehead.
He was even jealous of being flicked on the forehead.
He must have gone mad.
The Third Prince told himself this silently. Then he drew a deep breath and forced that madness back into his chest, restoring the composed and dignified expression he usually wore.
Shi Huai stood up with Tangerine in his arms.
“You should all go eat. Don’t let yourselves go hungry—you still have lessons this afternoon.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the moon gate leading into the rear garden.
Tangerine poked its head out of his arms and draped itself over his shoulder, its round eyes watching the people behind them as its whiskers twitched up and down.
Its expression seemed to say, “Go ahead and keep staring. He’s holding me, anyway.”
Shen Jinghong watched Shi Huai’s back disappear behind the moon gate. In his heart, he cursed Tangerine as a “you fatso—sooner or later, I’m going to stew you.”
Then he straightened up, brushed the dust from his robe, and walked off in another direction.
The Third Prince remained where he was. He was still holding the plate of hibiscus cakes that had been ignored, his gaze glued to the direction in which Shi Huai had disappeared. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pull it away.
He was thinking about what Shi Huai had said: “You should all go eat.”
Shi Huai had said “you all,” not “you.”
He had placed the Third Prince, Shen Jinghong, Wang Ren, Lin Mo, and Gu Changning on equal footing, without making any distinction between them.
He had neither shown special closeness to anyone nor deliberately kept his distance from anyone. He had balanced the bowl of water so perfectly that it was flatter than a level surface.
This realization left the Third Prince feeling sour, bitter, and faintly relieved in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
He was sour because he wasn’t the special one.
He was bitter because he wasn’t the special one.
And he was relieved because he wasn’t the special one.
Because not being special meant there was still a chance to become special.
The Third Prince inhaled deeply, then handed the plate of hibiscus cakes to the little eunuch following behind him.
“Take it. It’s a reward for you.”
The little eunuch accepted the plate in astonishment and repeatedly kowtowed in thanks. His forehead struck the flagstones with loud, rhythmic thuds.
The Third Prince didn’t even spare him a glance. He adjusted his collar and walked away in steady, composed strides.
Wang Ren stood where he was, holding the empty food box. The dimples in his round face had faded, and so had the smile at the corners of his mouth.
He stared blankly toward the moon gate for a long while. Then he lowered his head and quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before striding toward the dining hall.
By autumn, Shi Huai had turned thirteen.
Compared to a year earlier, thirteen-year-old Shi Huai had changed considerably. He had shot up nearly half a head and was already taller than Qinghe.
His shoulders had broadened as well, his frame transitioning from a boy’s slender build toward a young man’s upright bearing.
The lines of his features had grown sharper and more defined. When his thin lips pressed together, he carried a chilly air that seemed to keep everyone a thousand miles away. Yet when he smiled, he was as gentle as the first snow melting in spring.
“Ding! The Appearance Enhancement Device is operating in maintenance mode. You will automatically receive 1 Luck Point each month. Current Luck Points: 57/1000. Total Luck Points acquired: 57. Passive effects activated: [Blessing of Fortune]—the probability of receiving fate’s favor has increased to 35%. [All Things’ Favor]—the effect continues to strengthen.”
A young maid who had only recently entered the household was standing in the corridor when Shi Huai walked past her.
She froze as if someone had cast a spell on her.
Her mouth hung open, her eyes were as wide as bells, and the handkerchief slipped from her fingers to drift gently to the floor. She didn’t notice at all.
The older woman beside her gave her a shove and lowered her voice. “What are you staring at? That’s the young master. Do you think someone like you has the right to look?”
The young maid came back to herself and bent down to pick up the handkerchief. Her face flushed all the way from the base of her neck to the tips of her ears.
In a voice soft as a mosquito’s buzz, she said, “Auntie, how can the young master be so… so handsome?”
The older woman sighed and patted her on the shoulder, her tone carrying the world-weary wisdom of experience.
“You’ll get used to it. I was the same when I first arrived. It took me a whole year before I could walk normally again.”
