Huai An entered the hall carrying a freshly prepared bowl of lotus root starch soup. He carefully set it down beside Jun Heng’s hand and was about to withdraw.
“Huai An.” Jun Heng put down his brush and called out to him.
Huai An turned back and stopped, waiting for instructions.
“These past few days… why haven’t I seen her?”
Huai An’s expression relaxed, and a trace of a smile surfaced in his eyes.
After Yuan He’s execution, he had rushed to the Gu residence to look for Jun Heng, only to learn from the shadow guards that His Majesty had gone to Minghua Tower together with Gu Jiao.
He waited beneath the tower for quite a while, yet still saw no sign of them coming down. Stopping another hidden guard, Huai An climbed the tower himself. Even when he was close to the top, he heard no sound. Anxious, he pushed open the wooden door—only to see Gu Jiao standing there with a finger raised, signaling him to keep quiet.
Only then did he notice Jun Heng leaning beside her, eyes closed. The hem of his dragon-embroidered robes lay scattered casually on the ground, while his features wore a rare softness and tranquility.
After returning to the palace that time, perhaps from being chilled by the wind, His Majesty showed faint signs of catching a cold again, but his complexion hadn’t worsened much.
The medicine prescribed by Imperial Physician Zhou was, for once, taken on time, and His Majesty no longer spent all day staring off into space alone.
Later on, the Noble Consort had also taken the initiative to visit Longzhang Palace several times. There was nothing in particular—sometimes she asked after His Majesty’s health, sometimes she simply sat nearby flipping through miscellaneous books, and occasionally she brought candied fruits and snacks.
These past few days, the Noble Consort hadn’t come. While handling state affairs, His Majesty had been faintly restless. He hadn’t taken the initiative to mention her either—Huai An knew he was deliberately waiting, to see how long His Majesty could endure before asking.
After all, some things had to be understood by His Majesty himself.
With a smile in his eyes, Huai An gave the answer he had long prepared. “In a few days it’ll be the Flower Festival. The streets are lively right now. The Noble Consort has gone out several times—heard she even brought back quite a few little trinkets.”
“Oh?” Jun Heng asked, as if casually. “What sort of things?”
Huai An thought for a moment. “This servant didn’t ask too closely, but I noticed that her maid, Jin Shi, has a delicate silver bracelet on her wrist. It should be a gift from the Noble Consort. I imagine the rest are similar small items.”
“She’s thoughtful—keeps everyone in mind.” After a long pause, Jun Heng replied lightly, though his tone carried a faint chill.
As he spoke, he rose from the desk. “Send these memorials to the Left Chancellor for review. I’ll go out for a walk.”
Huai An gathered up the memorials that had already been approved, gave a few instructions to the young eunuch guarding outside the hall, and then quickened his pace to follow Jun Heng.
“This servant will accompany Your Majesty.”
In the past, these memorials had first been sorted by Gu Qingxing according to urgency, with his own annotations attached before they were presented. Thus, Jun Heng’s review had been tedious but not mentally taxing.
Now, however, Jun Heng read through everything himself first. If there was anything amiss, only then would he discuss it with Gu Qingxing.
As a result, he had expended quite a bit of effort these days. Fortunately, with the weather warming and his cold ailment not flaring up, it hadn’t harmed him too badly.
Walking on, they gradually reached the vicinity of Jade Dew Palace.
Huai An watched as His Majesty slowed his steps, his gaze drifting toward that direction again and again—yet he made no move to go over. Finally, Huai An couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Your Majesty, this servant just remembered—you seem to have misplaced a palace tassel. Last time I saw it, it was when you went to dine with Her Highness the Noble Consort.”
Jun Heng paused, then nodded.
“Is that so? Then let’s go have a look.”
Huai An smiled lightly and said no more.
The tassel, of course, had never been lost. His Majesty certainly didn’t believe it either. But… as long as His Majesty wanted to go, then lost it was.
The one who opened the door was Jin Shi.
“Your Majesty—this servant greets Your Majesty!” Jin Shi hurriedly bowed.
Almost the instant he saw her, Jun Heng’s gaze fixed on the silver bracelet on her wrist.
It wasn’t particularly valuable, but the pattern was delicate and clever—the kind of style young girls liked.
“That bracelet of yours…”
Jin Shi glanced timidly at Huai An, then answered obediently, “It was a gift from the Noble Consort.”
“Where is she?” Jun Heng asked, nearly pressing down on the last syllable, not even realizing how urgent he sounded.
“Her Highness… she went out not long ago.” Remembering what Gu Jiao had said before leaving, Jin Shi spoke with a hint of hesitation.
Her lady had said she was going to the southern part of the city for an outing, had risen early, and even mentioned inviting General Mu along.
Why did His Majesty have to come today of all days?
“She went out alone?” Jun Heng frowned. She disliked trouble and rarely liked having people follow her.
Jin Shi bit her lip and nodded slightly.
When the Noble Consort left, she really had gone alone. That shouldn’t count as deceiving the emperor, right?
Since Gu Jiao wasn’t there, Jun Heng had no intention of staying. Naturally, he didn’t notice Jin Shi’s unease.
Huai An, however, saw it clearly. After a brief consideration, he guessed most of the truth.
Once Jun Heng turned away, Huai An stepped closer to Jin Shi and asked in a low voice, “Did Her Highness say what she went out to do?”
…
Gu Jiao stood outside the riding grounds, looking at the people inside who were riding horses at a leisurely pace, and yawned.
“Didn’t they say this was a riding competition? Why are there only a few people?”
They all looked rather familiar. Had she known it was still just these young masters from noble families, she wouldn’t have made a special trip.
These people probably weren’t even as steady on horseback as she was.
The person beside her laughed softly. “The host hasn’t arrived yet. Of course it’s not very interesting.”
Hearing that, Gu Jiao turned her head curiously. “Oh? Who is it?”
“The young lord of Duke Wei’s household—Wei Jinyu.”
“Adulterer,” Mu Wan added casually, fiddling with a blade of grass he’d pulled from the ground.
The name sounded familiar to Gu Jiao. Then she suddenly recalled the bit of gossip Jin Shi had once mentioned—the illegitimate son of the Wei family. Wasn’t that this person?
If she remembered correctly, Duke Wei had once even wanted to take Mu Wan as a son-in-law.
That counted as quite a bit of history between them.
“Judging by your tone, does that mean there’s something I don’t know?” she tugged at Mu Wan’s sleeve, smiling.
Mu Wan moved to a quieter patch of grass and sat down. After motioning for Gu Jiao to sit as well, he finally revealed an expression of watching a good show.
“You’re familiar with the capital. Don’t you find the identities of the people here… rather interesting?”
Gu Jiao looked around thoughtfully. “They’re all from noble families, aligned with the officials’ faction?”
Mu Wan lay down lazily with one arm as a pillow. “Even if you hadn’t invited me today, I would’ve come anyway. The invitation was sent to the Mu residence days ago.”
Gu Jiao’s invitation had come via Gu Qingxing as well. To avoid trouble, she had deliberately changed into men’s clothing and darkened her face a little. Mu Wan was usually low-key to begin with, so the two of them sat there openly and at ease, with no one coming over to strike up a conversation.
“Hey,” she raised an eyebrow, “I thought you didn’t like joining in the bustle?”
Mu Wan lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and replied leisurely, “With a scene this big, wouldn’t it be a pity not to come and watch a good show?”
Gu Jiao was just about to press him for details when someone behind them hesitantly called out, “Mu Wan?”
From the sound of the voice, Gu Jiao didn’t turn around. Instead, she arched a brow and looked at Mu Wan.
Mu Wan’s smile stiffened. He flipped his wrist up to cover his face.
“How did you—Gu Jiao?!”
Ning Feizhi stared wide-eyed, pointing first at Gu Jiao, then slowly moving his finger toward Mu Wan, his face full of disbelief.
…
Gu Jiao’s not-so-brilliant disguise naturally didn’t fool Ning Feizhi. He frowned, his gaze moving back and forth between her and Mu Wan.
Then he snorted. “Gu Jiao, your taste really is getting worse by the day.”
As he spoke, he shot a look of pure disdain at Mu Wan, who was still pretending to be dead, grinding his teeth. “Even if you’re looking for a new flame, you don’t have to pick someone this crude.”
Gu Jiao looked at him, amused, and for a moment didn’t quite know what to say.
No matter how you looked at it, “crude” had nothing to do with Mu Wan.
Mu Wan, too, couldn’t help but lower his hand and sit up, clearing his throat as he defended himself. “Ahem, Young Master Ning, is there perhaps some misunderstanding between us?”
“What misunderstanding?” Ning Feizhi snapped, growing more agitated as he spoke. “Wasn’t it you who let a horse crash into me? And my fan—do you have any idea how valuable that fan was?!”
“That fan breaking was an accident on my part… but weren’t you the one who threw it at me first?” Mu Wan replied helplessly.
Gu Jiao wore an expression of delighted spectatorship. So it turned out Ning Feizhi himself had thrown his treasured fan at someone, which was how it got ruined?
No wonder. She had been wondering how someone as measured as Mu Wan could offend Young Master Ning a second time.
“All right, all right,” she smoothed things over. “That fan of yours has been in use for years anyway. Another day I’ll have my father help you choose a new one. His calligraphy may not compare to Master Xuanyang’s, but it’s serviceable enough, isn’t it?”
Ning Feizhi snorted, turned his head away—and then, as if spotting something, frowned in surprise.
Gu Jiao followed his gaze. Inside the riding grounds, the young noblemen had already cleared the area. In the center, a man leaned forward over a black horse, legs lightly clamped against its flanks, a cloud of dust kicking up behind him.
People outside the field gradually gathered along the perimeter. Aside from the younger generation, most wore looks of admiration.
Gu Jiao stood as well, dusting off her clothes, her fingers resting at her chin as she watched.
The rider glanced around, a trace of barely concealed pride flickering in his eyes. He then released the reins, twisted his body, and reached back to take up the longbow slung behind him. Galloping past at full speed, he loosed an arrow that struck the distant target dead center.
“Bravo!”
“A true talent of the younger generation! With Chancellor Yan among the civil officials, could this Young Master Wei be about to seize the top spot among the martial ranks as well?”
Amid the chorus of praise, a single cold snort sounded beside Gu Jiao.
She rubbed her ear. “You’re really in a foul mood today. Everyone seems to rub you the wrong way.”
Ning Feizhi immediately glared at her. “Don’t tell me you think he’s good too?”
“I’m just worried you’ll blow a fuse,” Gu Jiao replied smoothly, clearly practiced at placating Young Master Ning. Her gaze, however, lingered thoughtfully on the man who had dismounted cleanly, smiling with perfect composure.
“What was his name again… Wei Jinyu? Huaiyu wo jin—a fine meaning, at least.”
“What a waste of a name,” Ning Feizhi cut in stubbornly.
Gu Jiao turned her head and studied him for a moment before he said angrily, “Last time at Listening Sound Pavilion, he nearly forced—Zi Jin to prove her chastity with her life.”
“There was such a thing?” Gu Jiao’s playful mood vanished at once, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Zi Jin was a courtesan of Listening Sound Pavilion. Ning Feizhi had once saved her, and Gu Jiao herself had met her a few times.
Because of Ning Feizhi, men seeking pleasure rarely dared trouble her. As for the sons of noble families, even when they visited Listening Sound Pavilion, they were careful, fearful of being recognized.
Wei Jinyu couldn’t be foolish enough to make a scene everyone knew about—could he?
Ning Feizhi cast a disdainful glance at Wei Jinyu, who was still chatting and laughing easily. “He thought hiding his true identity would keep him from being recognized. Anyone I want to look into—there’s no one I can’t dig up.”
“Listening Sound Pavilion?” Mu Wan had come over at some point, repeating the words in a calm tone.
Ning Feizhi’s expression grew a little awkward, and he changed the subject. “Duke Wei is getting on in years. This ‘outing’ is probably just a pretense—paving the way for Wei Jinyu is the real goal.”
“There does seem to be a vacant post for deputy commander in the 羽林衛,” Mu Wan said evenly. “In terms of status and ability, he does fit the bill.”
Ignoring Ning Feizhi’s furious glare, she continued, “If no one here today can measure up to this young lord, then this will be the beginning of his rise.”
Ning Feizhi’s face darkened. He might despise Wei Jinyu, but he had to admit that in this regard, he truly couldn’t match him.
Then, suddenly, he thought of Mu Wan beside him.
“How’s your riding?” he asked.
Mu Wan paused. “Decent enough.”
“Compared to Wei Jinyu?” Ning Feizhi pressed.
Mu Wan smiled noncommittally, perfectly at ease.
“With so many people here today, wouldn’t it be boring to let him hog all the spotlight?” Ning Feizhi coaxed.
“It is the Wei family’s event. Letting Young Master Wei put on a display isn’t unreasonable,” Mu Wan replied, unmoved.
Ning Feizhi ground his teeth again. “If you beat him, I won’t pursue the matter of the fan.”
“Really?”
“A gentleman’s word is his bond.”
Mu Wan eyed him suspiciously, then turned to Gu Jiao. “Does he usually consider himself a gentleman? He’s not trying to trick me, is he?”
“Mu Wan!”
Mu Wan laughed softly. “Then let it be so. If I win, we wipe the slate clean on everything before—how about that?”
Ning Feizhi weighed it for a moment and chose humiliating Wei Jinyu over continuing his grudge with Mu Wan.
Still, he snorted. “And if you lose?”
Mu Wan tapped the ground lightly with her toe and sprang up, leaving behind one last line: “Young master, watch closely.”
As her words fell, she was already inside the riding grounds.
“Young Master Wei—might Mu Wan have the honor of exchanging pointers with you?”