Everyone present wore shocked expressions. It was said that Li Jiayin was as cold as ice and never got close to any man, yet now…
Wu Sheng’an’s face turned cold and visibly displeased.
“And who is this?” Wu Sheng’an asked coldly.
Hearing this, Lin Ce was momentarily stunned. Having lived two lives, he had long since mastered reading people. This son of the Prince of the Southwest looked to be in his twenties, but he was showing his emotions so openly—he lacked composure.
More importantly, it was obvious Wu Sheng’an liked Li Jiayin.
Now, seeing Lin Ce and her looking so close, he was clearly jealous.
“Your Highness, I am Lin Ce,” Lin Ce said with a faint smile.
After he introduced himself, the people around grew even more astonished.
“That’s the Prime Minister’s eldest grandson? The one who brought misfortune and caused his mother’s death at birth?”
“Can it really be him? Wasn’t the Prime Minister already retired?”
“What’s he doing here?”
Voices murmured through the crowd, and no one even tried to hide their words—Lin Ce heard every bit of it clearly.
His gaze turned cold as he looked toward the one who had just spoken.
But Wu Sheng’an quickly recovered, realizing he had misunderstood. He immediately let out an awkward laugh and warmly grabbed Lin Ce’s arm.
“So it’s Young Master Lin! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Come, come, have a seat. Today’s poetry gathering is all about bonding over verse. Your presence brings honor to this humble event.”
Wu Sheng’an was quite hearty and outgoing. Of course, he knew about the connection between the Lin and Li families.
Lin Ce was Li Jiayin’s cousin—her holding his arm didn’t mean much.
Moreover, when Wu Sheng’an subtly tightened his grip on Lin Ce’s arm, he quickly noticed the frailty in Lin Ce’s body. It was obvious Li Jiayin was supporting him.
“Your Highness, you’ve got quite the strength. That was intentional, wasn’t it?” Lin Ce narrowed his eyes.
So Wu Sheng’an had been testing him just now!
“You’re joking, Young Master Lin. I’ve admired Miss Li for a long time, and I greatly respect Prime Minister Lin. Seeing you today has me a bit excited, that’s all,” Wu Sheng’an brushed the matter aside lightly and invited them to sit.
The moment he saw Lin Ce, he shouted, “You bastard! You called me a dog and dared to play me? Get over here! I’m going to slap you a few times to vent my anger!”
He stormed toward Lin Ce, eyes filled with hatred.
He’d been used to acting arrogantly in Bianjing. When had he ever been insulted like this?
But before he got close, several guards stepped in to block his path.
“Wang Gui, what are you doing!” Wu Sheng’an said with clear irritation. He had personally organized this poetry gathering, and Wang Gui was one of the invited guests—how dare he come here and stir up trouble?
“Your Highness,” Wang Gui quickly bowed, trying to explain himself in a hurry.
But Wu Sheng’an didn’t give him the chance. He slapped the table and stood up, saying, “This gathering is about poetry and friendship. You burst in here spouting vulgarities and even tried to raise your hand against someone. Are you here to ruin this event?”
“Guards, throw him out!”
The guards who had restrained Wang Gui lifted him off the ground and began carrying him away. Just then, Lin Ce spoke.
“Your Highness, Moonview Tower is a refined place. Dragging someone out might disturb the other guests.”
As he spoke, he looked off into the distance.
Wu Sheng’an’s eyes gleamed—clearly there was some grudge between Wang Gui and Lin Ce.
Wasn’t this a perfect opportunity?
And with Li Jiayin watching from the side, he had to perform well.
Wu Sheng’an waved his hand toward the railing and said, “Throw him over. That’ll avoid disturbing the other guests.”
These guards were from the Prince of the Southwest’s household—they obeyed orders without question.
“Hey… what are you doing?!”
“Your Highness, you can’t do this!”
“This is the third floor! The third floor!”
Before Wang Gui could finish his protest, the two guards casually tossed him off the balcony. He arced through the air in a clean parabola and crashed hard onto the ground below.
The street of Xunan Ward was paved with stone bricks.
When he landed, several bricks cracked under his body!
Everyone knew how arrogant Wang Gui had always been, but no one had ever punished him. Unfortunately for him, he had now offended the son of the Prince of the Southwest.
Everyone also knew Wu Sheng’an fancied Li Jiayin. And Wang Gui had just tried to bully her cousin in front of him—of course Wu Sheng’an wouldn’t let that slide.
So what if his father was the records officer at the Imperial Library Pavilion?
Wu Sheng’an’s father was the Prince of the Southwest.
“That was satisfying,” Li Jiayin said as she downed her wine in one gulp, her face quickly flushing red. Wu Sheng’an, seeing this, toasted her enthusiastically, his eyes filled with excitement.
Clearly, he felt he had done the right thing.
Lin Ce narrowed his eyes at Wu Sheng’an. This guy really didn’t hesitate.
Still, there was no need to worry about Wang Gui. The young heirs of Bianjing’s powerful families weren’t ordinary people. Wang Gui practiced martial arts—falling from the third floor wouldn’t kill him.
At most, he’d just suffer some injuries.
“Oww… my bones…” Wang Gui’s wailing echoed from below, but on the third floor, everything was peaceful.
“Young Master Lin, I never had the honor of meeting you back when you were still in Bianjing. I didn’t expect to finally see you now, just as I’m about to leave,” Wu Sheng’an said, raising his wine cup respectfully.
This courtesy was entirely for Li Jiayin’s sake.
Had the Prime Minister still been in power, Wu Sheng’an might have treated Lin Ce as a distinguished guest. But now, he was simply accompanying Li Jiayin.
“It was my mistake not to visit Your Highness earlier,” Lin Ce replied with a calm smile. But deep down, he sighed. He had to find a way to stop Wu Sheng’an from leaving. Once he returned to the southwest, he would be assassinated. That would provoke the Prince of the Southwest into rebellion.
Such bloodshed wasn’t something Lin Ce wanted to see.
“I heard that a few days ago, Young Master Lin solved the ‘Star River Dream.’ I’ve always been interested in that incomplete game. Why don’t you tell us about it?” Wu Sheng’an steered the conversation to a lighter topic. Lin Ce had gained some fame in Bianjing because of that chess puzzle, so it was a natural way to liven the mood.
“Isn’t today a poetry gathering? Talking about chess would be off-topic,” Lin Ce replied, shaking his head. Without memories from his past life, he wouldn’t have been able to solve the Star River Dream at all.
“Poetry? I’m afraid Young Master Lin won’t be able to join in then. His Highness is trying to give him a platform, and he’s just turning it down?” someone in the crowd sneered.
Lin Ce’s gaze snapped toward the speaker.
If he remembered correctly, this was the same person who had said earlier that he had cursed his mother to death.
“Since today is a poetry gathering, then of course we’re here to connect through poetry. May I ask your name?” Lin Ce asked casually, but when it came to his mother—no one was allowed to speak carelessly.
This man really didn’t know his place. Lin Ce was curious to see who exactly he was.
“I am Zhao Sui from Muzhou.”
“Surely, Young Master Lin hasn’t forgotten me?”