Old Liu, the gatekeeper of the Yongning Marquis's residence, had recently mastered an extraordinary skill.
Without even looking at a visitor's face, he could identify them solely by the weight, pace, and urgency of their footsteps.
The Crown Prince's steps were steady yet hurried, each one carrying the assuredness of someone accustomed to standing above others.
Shen Jinghong's footsteps were lazy and carefree, as if he were walking on clouds.
Wang Ren's were heavy and anxious. You could hear him panting from two streets away.
That morning, just after Old Liu opened the main gate, he heard three sets of footsteps slowly approaching from three different directions.
Before he had time to react, the Crown Prince, Shen Jinghong, and Wang Ren were already standing together at the entrance.
The three exchanged glances, their gazes clashing in midair for a moment as sparks flew.
The Crown Prince wore an apricot-yellow python-embroidered robe, a white jade belt fastened around his waist. There were faint dark circles beneath his eyes, making him look as though he had gone several nights without sleep.
Yet his bearing remained noble and untouchable. He held his chin slightly raised and swept a cool glance over the other two.
“You’re here early.”
Shen Jinghong wore a silver-red brocade robe and leaned against his carriage, which was inlaid with gold and jade.
“Your Highness isn’t late either. You must have left the Eastern Palace before dawn, didn’t you?”
The Crown Prince’s lips twitched faintly. He did not reply, merely strode through the Marquis’s residence gates.
Shen Jinghong straightened and followed leisurely behind him.
Wang Ren came last. The two dimples in his round cheeks sank deeply as he grinned foolishly, like a fat rabbit that had no idea how high the sky was.
Madam Liu stood behind the window of Qingzhi Courtyard, watching through the carved lattice as the three men walked one after another toward Shou’an Hall.
Her fingers gripped the window frame so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and the hatred in her eyes was as thick as ink that could never be diluted.
Shi Lingyi sat on the couch behind Madam Liu, a cup of tea in her hands.
Her lowered lashes concealed the emotions roiling in her eyes, but the corners of her lips curved upward ever so slightly.
The arc was extremely faint—so faint it was almost impossible to see.
But when Madam Liu turned around, she happened to catch it, and a chill ran down her back.
“Mother, don’t be anxious. Little Brother has made something of himself. That’s a good thing for the Marquis’s residence and for us.”
Shi Lingyi set down her teacup and looked up at Madam Liu. Her face wore a gentle, proper smile that appeared flawless.
Madam Liu stared at her daughter for a long while. Her lips moved as though she wanted to say something, but she swallowed the words in the end and managed only one question.
“Has that husband of yours been making trouble lately?”
Shi Lingyi’s smile did not change in the slightest. Her voice remained as gentle as a spring breeze in the third month.
“He’s stopped. I’ve already soothed him. Men are all the same—they need to be coaxed.”
What Madam Liu did not see was that, as Shi Lingyi spoke, her fingers clenched inside her sleeves until her knuckles creaked. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving a series of bloody marks.
Shi Huai was practicing calligraphy in his study when he heard footsteps in the courtyard and set down his brush.
Before he could stand, the door curtain was lifted, and the Crown Prince, Shen Jinghong, and Wang Ren filed in one after another, filling the small study to the brim.
“Shi Huai, I’ve come to take you to play cuju. Are you ready?”
The Crown Prince wore a black riding outfit with a gold belt around his waist. He looked dashing and heroic, though faint dark circles showed beneath his eyes.
He looked as if he had gone several nights without sleep.
The moment his gaze fell on Shi Huai, his breathing hitched faintly. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the jade pendant at his waist, his knuckles paling as though he might crush the stone.
Shen Jinghong wore a sapphire-blue riding outfit with a silver belt. He looked like peach blossoms blooming in a courtyard in autumn.
“Shi Huai, you look much better in this outfit than I do. I’m never wearing blue again.”
His voice held a trace of laughter, but his peach-blossom eyes were filled with seriousness—so much seriousness that the Crown Prince and Wang Ren both rolled their eyes.
Wang Ren poked his head out from behind the Crown Prince.
He wore a dark green riding outfit with a brown belt around his waist. His entire body was round and chubby, like a bear stuffed into clothing.
“Shi Huai, you look good in everything. I’ll have my family’s tailor make you a few outfits too. Her needlework is excellent.”
Wang Ren’s voice was guileless and sincere—so sincere that the Crown Prince and Shen Jinghong both turned to look at him, their eyes filled with the disdainful message: You think you’re worthy?
Tangerine jumped down from the windowsill and walked gracefully over to Shi Huai’s feet.
It raised its head, its round eyes fixed on Shi Huai’s face, its tail standing straight up as if to say, You look so handsome today.
Shi Huai bent down, scooped Tangerine up, and placed it on the table. Then he flicked it lightly on the head.
“Tangerine, you’re not coming with us today. The cuju field will be too noisy. You’ll be frightened.”
Tangerine narrowed its eyes from the flick. Instead of running away, it pushed its head into Shi Huai’s palm, purring even louder than before.
The Crown Prince looked at the useless orange cat. The corner of his mouth twitched faintly. He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped his hand, his voice cool and indifferent.
“Shi Huai, the carriage is waiting outside. Let’s go.”
Shi Huai nodded. He took Tangerine from the table and stuffed it into Qinghe’s arms, straightened his collar, and followed the Crown Prince out of the study.
Qinghe stood at the study door, holding Tangerine and watching Shi Huai’s figure cross the courtyard and disappear beyond the moon gate. She lowered her head and glanced at Tangerine, only to find the cat covering its face with its paws as though it were crying.
“Tangerine, you don’t want Young Master to leave either?”
Qinghe’s voice was a little hoarse as she reached out to stroke Tangerine’s head.
Tangerine let out a plaintive meow. Its expression seemed to say, What do you know? I’m worried about the people around him. They’re the ones who really have it rough.
The carriage stopped at the cuju field outside the city. Shi Huai jumped down and found himself facing a wide expanse of grass.
Quite a few people were already gathered on the field, standing in small groups and chatting and laughing. The atmosphere was relaxed and lively.
Shi Huai’s arrival brought the entire cuju field to a momentary standstill.
Everyone’s gaze was drawn to him as if by a magnet.
The Third Prince, Zhao Chengrui, was standing in the middle of the field, talking with several people. At the commotion, he raised his head. His gaze passed over the crowd and landed on Shi Huai, and his heart gave a sudden, powerful beat.
He said something to the people beside him, then hurried toward Shi Huai. When he reached him, he stopped and looked him up and down. Slowly, a smile spread across his lips.
“Shi Huai, you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you for ages.”
