After parting with Ning Feizhi, on the way back, Gu Jiao ran into Huai An.
“His Majesty is waiting for you,” Huai An said.
Seeing her, he hurried over, secretly relieved.
Earlier, Jun Heng had kept glancing back but couldn’t see anyone, leaving him somewhat uneasy.
When Gu Qingxing first mentioned the time, Jun Heng had already stood up.
Fortunately, a few maidservants had seen Gu Jiao walking this way, so he was able to report to Jun Heng and had come ahead to find her.
“Hmm, what about my father?” Gu Jiao asked casually as she walked.
“Left Chancellor should have returned to the mansion. Will Your Highness… return to the palace?”
“To the palace.” As she spoke, Gu Jiao suddenly remembered something, paused, then added, “Huai An, did you bring His Majesty’s casual clothes?”
…
Borrowing a room from the Fu residence, Jun Heng changed into a dark teal casual outfit.
Since it was a condolence visit, Gu Jiao was wearing a simple, plain dress with her hair casually pinned up—not overly eye-catching.
After leaving the mansion, they only left the shadow guards hidden in the distance. Disguised, Huai An followed, while Gu Jiao and Jun Heng made their way to Changning Street.
“Where are we going?” Jun Heng asked, observing the bustling crowd and instinctively avoiding contact with them.
He had been annoyed that she left without telling him, and hadn’t yet responded, but she had already pushed him ahead to change clothes.
Sensing his hesitation, Gu Jiao naturally turned and wrapped her hand around his wrist.
“Don’t worry, I won’t lose you.”
The warmth from her wrist made Jun Heng’s mind momentarily haze. He let her guide him through a few turns before he suddenly regained his senses.
“You…”
“We’ve arrived,” Gu Jiao suddenly stopped and let go of his hand.
Jun Heng lowered his head, slightly lost, then reached out to touch the spot she had held, only to quickly withdraw once he realized.
He lifted his head in haste and froze again.
The antique plaque above the entrance bore three bold characters: “Xianyun Pavilion.”
“Come, I’ll let you taste a true delicacy of the capital,” Gu Jiao said, stepping inside and beckoning him over.
When their eyes met, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity. His expression seemed… a little off.
Tilting his head to avoid her gaze, Jun Heng walked slowly into the building.
Huai An followed, naturally handing a silver ingot to the steward and instructing him to find a quiet room.
Xianyun Pavilion was always attentive to guests. The steward, without looking too closely at them, bowed his head and led them to a secluded private room at a corner.
“One portion of chestnut pastry, three portions of fermented rice balls… hmm, I remember you prepared some new dishes—just pick a few,” Gu Jiao said effortlessly, already seated, not even glancing at the menu.
“Oh, and make the chestnut pastry a little less sweet,” she added.
The steward nodded and left.
Noticing Jun Heng’s subtle gaze, Gu Jiao turned to look at him openly.
“Where did you go just now?” Jun Heng asked, lips pressed together.
She had gone to chat with Ning Feizhi—could she say that?
“I’m not fond of such gatherings,” Gu Jiao said, touching her nose guiltily. “Just wandered around a bit.”
“Hmm.”
…
The wait for the dishes felt long. The windows of the private room were closed. Outside, people passed by, laughing and joking, which made the interior seem even quieter.
“Something on your mind?” Gu Jiao asked instinctively.
“No,” Jun Heng said stiffly, though his expression almost screamed I’m angry.
Gu Jiao was silent for a moment, recalling.
When had things started feeling off? Just a few days ago, everything had been…
…
“Your Majesty.”
“Have I ever told you? Problems can only be solved if they are spoken out loud.”
Jun Heng’s fingertips trembled.
How could he explain? Should he tell her he cared about the way she looked at the old, broken swing?
He cared so much that he dared not let her see him, worried she might think of someone else, worried that her eyes would betray nostalgia and melancholy.
“No, I’m not happy,” he repeated.
Gu Jiao had no reply. At that moment, the neighboring room made the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.
Perhaps it was too quiet where they were; even after the other person sat down, they didn’t bother lowering their voice.
“Do you understand His Majesty’s intention today?”
A long sigh followed: “I advise everyone here—any thoughts you have, it’s best to put them aside quickly.”
Another voice hesitated: “I still don’t understand. The Xie family has committed such a grave crime. Why would His Majesty use this opportunity to challenge the Left Chancellor? Why orchestrate today’s events instead?”
Hearing this, Gu Jiao and Jun Heng exchanged a glance, easing their breathing to listen carefully.
The first speaker sounded older, his tone cautious: “You think because His Majesty is less involved in court affairs, he’s truly ignorant?”
“And if the marriage between the Xie and Gu families hadn’t happened, would it have been worth jeopardizing the Left Chancellor over a trip to Nanning?”
“Furthermore… without the Left Chancellor, do you really think the throne would still be in the Jun family?”
Hearing this, Gu Jiao drew in a sharp breath, glancing at Jun Heng.
If it were convenient, she would have loved to hear His Majesty’s own thoughts on these words.
Sensing her gaze, Jun Heng quickly guessed what she was thinking and frowned, about to speak—when Gu Jiao reacted instantly, placing her hand over his mouth.
Their eyes met. She looked at his misty gaze, then at her hand, twitching at the corner of her eye.
…Actually, she was worried that if he spoke, they might be overheard next door. She didn’t care herself—she just feared the others might catch on.
The slight warmth in her palm contrasted with the coolness of his hand.
Was this hand carved from cold jade?
Still lost in thought, Gu Jiao didn’t notice Jun Heng suddenly pushing the chair and standing, nearly toppling over in his fluster, had Huai An not reacted quickly to steady him.
The little commotion avoided making a scene.
The neighboring room fell silent.
Huai An quickly went to the door, blocking the entrance.
After a while, low murmurs resumed, followed by the rustle of clothing and footsteps.
“It seems like some officials from the Ministry of Personnel. They didn’t come this way and went downstairs instead,” Huai An whispered upon returning.
Gu Jiao and Jun Heng, one watching the window, the other the floor, remained silent.
Huai An hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Shall we send some people along?”
“No need.” Jun Heng shook his head.
“Ahem… if people are just whispering privately, let’s pretend we didn’t hear anything,” Gu Jiao said, clearing her throat to go along with him.
“Um—”
Before anyone could finish, there was a knock at the door. The three of them exchanged a look, tensing slightly.
Fortunately, it was only a waiter bringing the dishes.
…
Once the dishes arrived, Gu Jiao carefully portioned the fermented rice balls and, ignoring Huai An’s attempts to stop her, pressed him back into his seat.
“There’s no one else here, why be so formal?” she said, placing a piece of chestnut pastry onto his plate.
Huai An froze for a moment, then moved even faster than Jun Heng had earlier, standing up and knocking over the wooden chopsticks in his haste.
“I’ll fetch another pair of chopsticks.”
With that, he dashed out of the room like he was fleeing.
Gu Jiao held her chopsticks mid-air, speechless. She had originally meant to say—there were extras.
The slightly cramped room now felt even tighter with an extra person in it.
After the earlier surprise, Gu Jiao had deliberately avoided meeting Jun Heng’s gaze.
Now, as she served the food, she stole a glance. Jun Heng had his head lowered, stirring his rice balls intermittently.
…It had been so long—she realized she had never had the chance to properly eat a meal with him.
She picked up a piece of delicate fish and placed it on his plate.
“Eat more. You can’t just rely on medicine,” she said, then served herself a piece as well. “Their fish is really well-prepared. I even secretly learned the technique before—next time, I’ll cook it for you myself.”
Jun Heng’s eyelashes twitched. His dark eyes fixed on her.
After a long moment, he picked up his chopsticks.
Gu Jiao smiled, resting her head on her hand, and after he swallowed the fish, she immediately served another piece.
That day, Jun Heng ate nearly half a fish by himself, along with three pieces of chestnut pastry.
…
“I remember, Your Majesty, you used to dislike fish because of all the bones, didn’t you?” After settling the bill, Huai An leaned in beside Jun Heng, keeping up his habit of always noting his master’s preferences.
Jun Heng’s expression was calm. He glanced at Gu Jiao, who was chatting with the steward about returning next time. “There are fewer bones now.”
Huai An said, “I picked them out for you last time, Your Majesty. You didn’t eat much then.”
“Are you giving up your monthly stipend?” Jun Heng’s face darkened.
“If it makes Your Majesty happy, it doesn’t matter whether I get my stipend or not,” Huai An said with a quiet smile.
“You… really don’t know who you learned that from,” Jun Heng muttered, exhaling. He turned to leave.
Huai An shook his head, smiling to himself: “Why am I so pleased following him?”
Watching Jun Heng’s back, a trace of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. “But… it really is good.”
…
Gu Jiao had no idea how much reflection Huai An had undergone over just one meal. She lay on her bed in Yulu Palace, thinking of another person.
Mu Wan.
Or, rather, she should be called… Mu Wan.
Over the years, many people had visited Gu Qingxing, but very few came with younger companions, and those who did were usually on close terms with Gu Qingxing.
Gu Jiao and Ning Feizhi had met over a playful dispute for a chicken drumstick at the dinner table.
But her first encounter with Mu Wan had been much earlier.
At that time, Gu Qingxing couldn’t stand her fussing and had someone make a small swing in the backyard.
She ran to play on it alone, and not paying attention, fell off. Dazed by the pain, a pair of hands appeared before her eyes.
The palms were larger than hers, but already worn with calluses.
“You just fell a bit, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
The speaker’s hair was tied in a crooked bun, and tilting her head, she looked at Gu Jiao in a way that made her nearly shed the tears she had struggled to hold back.
“But the little girls in the capital are really pretty, like porcelain dolls.” She blinked in surprise, clearly admiring her.
Gu Jiao thought this girl had quite an eye.
She had always considered herself the most beautiful little girl in the capital.
So she offered her hand to climb up and brushed the dust off her clothes.
“Who are you? And why are you in my house?”
The girl’s expression twisted slightly, as if unsure how to answer.
Then, like a little adult, she sighed: “I originally came to visit Left Chancellor. My father thought I was in the way and kicked me out of the study.”
Gu Jiao eyed her suspiciously. Visiting her father? A little girl?
“You must be Gu Jiao. I’m Mu Wan—Qingyang Wanxi’s Wan.” Mu Wan introduced herself without even meeting Gu Jiao’s gaze.
Gu Jiao’s eyes widened in surprise, then she laughed.
What a beautiful name—Qingyang Wanxi.
The girl’s hair was messy, with strange little leaves stuck in it.
“Don’t laugh,” Mu Wan said helplessly, though she seemed used to it, patiently explaining, “It’s a strange name, but my mother gave it to me. Not that bad, right?”
“It’s not the name,” Gu Jiao said, holding back laughter, “Did you do your own hair?”
“Huh? This?” Mu Wan pointed at her head and shook her head. “It was fine before I left. After a few falls, it came undone.”
“Forget it.” Gu Jiao sighed gently. “Since you helped me, I’ll fix it for you. Come here.”
Before Mu Wan could protest, Gu Jiao had her seated at her vanity, carefully untangling her slightly knotted hair.
…
Mu Wan.
Mu Wan.
They were the same person.
Gu Jiao recalled the two times she had interacted with Mu Wan and realized she had never tried to hide her identity.
Unlike herself, Mu Wan clearly remembered that meeting.
At the time, Gu Jiao had no idea Mu Wan was from the Linyang Mu family. Later, Mu Wan never visited Gu’s mansion again, so Gu Jiao gradually forgot.
For Mu Wan, hiding her identity simply meant avoiding Gu Jiao as much as possible.
After all, the fact that the Mu family was led by a woman was enough to shake the court.
Gu Jiao was curious—what had Mu Wan accomplished?
And also… did Jun Heng know?