Xie Xing finally noticed Princess Ming Zhao standing behind Cui Weijin and bowed gracefully. “Your servant Xie Xing pays respects to the Princess of Lin’an.”
His voice was gentle and clear, like the sound of jade striking jade.
Princess Ming Zhao quickly returned the bow. “Minister Xie, no need for such formality.”
She lifted her eyes and took the opportunity to carefully observe Xie Xing.
“This Xie Xing is handsome too, gentle as jade, but…”
Her eyes subtly shifted back and forth, comparing the two men.
“Still a bit less impressive than Cui Weijin. Xie Xing seems somewhat shorter.”
By estimation, Xie Xing’s height reached two to three centimeters below Cui Weijin’s ear, roughly seven feet three inches, while Cui Weijin surely exceeded eight feet.
Shallow of her, to judge by appearance, how superficial; learning and character could never be measured by height and looks alone.
Cui Weijin heard her inner thoughts clearly, expression calm, yet inwardly unamused.
Xie Xing suddenly noticed a small wintersweet petal resting on her shoulder. He smiled faintly and, in a natural motion, lifted his hand to brush it away.
“Your dress is touched by the wintersweet, Princess—elegant and refined.”
His smile was warm. “Though this fallen petal cannot compare to your presence.”
Princess Ming Zhao froze briefly at the unobtrusive gesture, then, hearing his compliment, her face broke into a genuine smile.
“Minister Xie truly knows how to speak,” she murmured, secretly glancing at the cold, impassive Cui Weijin beside her.
“Look at this Lord Cui—always concerned with propriety and rules, cold as ice. One is the spring breeze of March, the other the north wind of mid-winter!”
Xie Xing clearly knew how to converse, subtly appealing to her tastes:
“I’ve heard that Princess, back in Lingyang, was fond of riding and archery?”
His tone was sincere, not prying.
“When in Lingyang, I loved riding into the countryside, sometimes hunting rabbits or pheasants, though my archery was rather sloppy.”
Xie Xing smiled and nodded. “I have dabbled occasionally as well.”
“About thirty miles west of Ye City, there is a hunting ground. Though the grass withers in winter, the terrain is wide and perfect for riding. If Princess is free…”
His gaze was earnest. “I could show the way. Might Princess honor me with her company?”
“Really?” Princess Ming Zhao was pleasantly surprised; she had been stifled since returning to Ye City.
“It’s been a long time since I rode freely. Minister Xie, then it’s settled!”
“If Princess is willing, it would be my honor.” Xie Xing’s smile deepened, and they began chatting casually about riding spots, timing, and horse equipment. The atmosphere was light and friendly.
Meanwhile, Cui Weijin stood completely ignored.
He remained where he was, observing the lively conversation in front of him.
Xie Xing faced Princess Ming Zhao, who tilted her head slightly to look at him, her face glowing with a smile he had never seen before.
Those peach-blossom eyes were a hundred times more vivid and genuine than the deliberate “pitifully delicate” expression she had posed under the wintersweet tree.
He had become the background…
He, Cui Weijin, Chancellor, leader of the Qinghe Cui Clan, was usually the focus of every gaze, the center of every conversation.
Never had he been left standing to the side, unnoticed.
Since encountering this Princess of Lin’an, countless unprecedented experiences had unfolded.
His expression darkened, interrupting their oblivious conversation:
“Princess.”
Both Princess Ming Zhao and Xie Xing turned to him. Cui Weijin’s gaze fell on Princess Ming Zhao. “You mentioned earlier that you wished to consult me on a matter.”
Princess Ming Zhao blinked, suddenly remembering her main purpose.
Xie Xing, perceptive as ever, immediately sensed the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile did not waver, and he calmly bowed to both Cui Weijin and Princess Ming Zhao.
“In that case, I will not intrude on Brother Yi Ze and the Princess’s discussion.”
“I also have documents to attend to, so I shall take my leave.”
He spoke warmly to Princess Ming Zhao. “Princess, I have noted what you mentioned earlier.”
“Very well, thank you, Minister Xie,” Princess Ming Zhao nodded.
Xie Xing smiled slightly, bowed again, and turned to leave.
Princess Ming Zhao turned back, intending to say to Cui Weijin, “Shall we go inside too?”
But she saw that Cui Weijin had already turned, walking briskly toward his office without even glancing at her.
His strides were long and urgent.
“Ah? Lord Cui?” Princess Ming Zhao was stunned and hurried to catch up.
But Cui Weijin moved quickly, his long legs covering nearly twice her steps.
At first, Princess Ming Zhao tried to maintain her poise, lifting her skirt slightly. Seeing she could not keep up, she abandoned decorum, nearly breaking into a trot.
“Lord Cui, please wait for me!” she called, panting.
The figure ahead ignored her, his back straight and radiating a cold, unapproachable aura.
“What happened today? His mood changed faster than flipping a book!”
“Just now, everything was fine. Did someone owe him eight hundred coins or what?”
The figure stopped before a door, paused momentarily, seemingly to compose himself, then pushed it open and entered.
Inside, the office was much warmer than outside. Furnishings were simple: a desk, two bookshelves stacked with documents along the walls, and a small table with two cushions for visitors.
Cui Weijin was already seated behind the main desk. “Princess, please sit,” he said, his voice calm and cool as usual.
Princess Ming Zhao pursed her lips and sat on one of the cushions by the small table.
Cui Weijin picked up the tea before him. “Princess braved the cold to come and mentioned a matter for consultation. What is it, exactly?”
Princess Ming Zhao held her cup to warm her hands, clearing her throat. “After the palace banquet that day, Imperial Father spoke with me at length. He felt that, having been away from Ye City since childhood, I lacked proper guidance, and my words and actions were often improper.”
She observed Cui Weijin’s face carefully as she spoke.
He lowered his gaze to sip his tea, showing no reaction.
“Imperial Father believes that if this continues, it may cause further trouble and harm the royal reputation. Therefore…”
She paused slightly. “Imperial Father wishes to appoint a teacher for me, to instruct me properly in knowledge and etiquette.”
Cui Weijin set down his cup. “Princess, to have such intent, to sincerely wish to study, His Majesty would surely feel gratified.”
He could clearly see that while Princess Ming Zhao spoke humbly of her desire to study, her eyes held little true yearning for knowledge or propriety—rather, a calculating intent.
He did not expose her, keeping that insight to himself.
Seeing his calm reaction, Princess Ming Zhao leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the small table.
“Lord Cui,” she lowered her voice, “guess who Imperial Father recommended as this teacher for me?”
She blinked at him, her face displaying a sly smile.
The meaning was obvious—far away yet right in front of him.
Cui Weijin’s fingers paused on the tea cup.
He had guessed.
When she mentioned, “Imperial Father wishes to appoint a teacher for me,” he had already sensed something.
Emperor Ming Chong was cautious, especially regarding matters connecting the royal family and influential clans. He would never casually suggest Cui Weijin personally teach the Princess.
It was illogical, too risky.
So, this could only be the Princess’s own idea!
It was she who had deliberately clashed with Lady Zheng, braved the cold wind, and accepted punishment.
It was she who, after the feeble court audience with the Emperor, requested that Cui Weijin become her Princess teacher!
She had gone through such a roundabout route, only to ultimately point the choice at herself!