The students of the Imperial Academy who frequented this alley were much like the alley’s name; most carried an air of peace and clarity that came from being well protected. But it was precisely that clarity that made them seem so full of life, so full of hope for the future.
Young people were bold and enthusiastic, speaking freely about even the imperial family’s private affairs.
Yun Qiya had already listened as they moved from discussing the succession to the border situation, then to amusing stories about foreign royal families, before eventually circling back to Great An’s imperial house.
“The Deposed Prince committed countless evils. Death by a thousand cuts is exactly what he deserves.”
The scholar who said this spoke in a loud, forceful voice, clearly a man who hated wrongdoing.
“The Deposed Prince was His Majesty’s own blood relative. Yet His Majesty is willing to have him executed for the sake of justice and the people. That proves His Majesty values the common people above himself. It is a blessing for the realm.”
Yun Qiya secretly smiled. Very good. This scholar certainly knew how to say pretty things. She had only seen the Emperor once. All she knew was that he and the Empress shared a deep affection, that he had the face of someone destined for a long life, and that he was almost obsessively protective of Prince Ruining. Taking a sip of milk tea, she noticed her little partner staring into space. She waved a hand in front of his eyes. “You can daydream even while eating?”
Ling Yanhuai came back to himself. “What do you think of Prince Luo?”
Yun Qiya did not answer immediately. Instead, she carefully observed his expression. “How good is your relationship with Prince Luo?”
She hadn’t forgotten that they both bore the surname Ling. If they were close, she could phrase her opinion more tactfully.
“Not very good.” Ling Yanhuai replied. “I don’t think he likes me either.”
“He doesn’t like you? Well, we don’t like him either.”
The moment Yun Qiya realized her little partner was on her side, he suddenly looked far more pleasing to the eye.
“We’re not going to waste our time with someone so stubborn and impulsive.” She muttered away, criticizing the short-sighted Prince Luo on her little partner’s behalf.
Meanwhile, Ling Yanhuai sat beside her, obediently nodding from time to time. That made her even more satisfied. Her little partner was wonderful in every way. His only flaw was being too reserved. Everything stayed bottled up inside, unlike her. If she couldn’t win an argument or fight, she’d run away. But she’d still curse them in her heart afterward. Whatever made herself feel better.
“If he makes you unhappy again, I’ll keep cursing him for you.” Yun Qiya gave him a sympathetic look. “Though honestly, it’s more satisfying to do the cursing yourself.”
Unfortunately, imperial family members had to maintain appearances. Besides, even if her little partner possessed status and influence, there was no way he could outrank a prince. If he spent too much time around Prince Luo and that mad-dog temper flared up again, her little partner would definitely be the one at a disadvantage.
“Forget it. If Prince Luo upsets you again, come find me. I’ll secretly curse him out with you behind his back.”
The Emperor was so fiercely protective of his children. If her little partner ever lost his temper and talked back to Prince Luo in person, what if the Emperor ordered him caned? The key word was secretly, not to his face.
After all, she didn’t dare offend the imperial family either. That wasn’t cowardice. It was strategy. It was knowing when to bend and when to stand tall.
“Alright,” Ling Yanhuai agreed.
As for which part exactly he was agreeing to, no one knew.
When the Emperor heard that his eldest son’s health was steadily improving, he was delighted but still uneasy. So he summoned several imperial physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau and ordered each of them to examine his eldest son.
The physicians arrived. Prince Ruining did not.
“Your Majesty, His Highness left the residence just after lunch and has not yet returned.”
“The Imperial Clan Court again?” The Emperor felt rather pleased. Going there was still better than shutting himself up indoors all day.
“This humble servant asked at the Imperial Clan Court. His Highness stayed there for less than half an hour before leaving.”
He wasn’t there either? The Emperor dismissed the physicians back to the medical bureau, but his puzzlement only deepened.
Huai’er preferred quiet and disliked activity. According to his usual habits, after leaving the Court, his first instinct should have been to return home and stay there. Wandering around elsewhere was unlike him.
“Your Majesty, shall we send people to investigate His Highness’s whereabouts?” One of the attendants was attempting to curry favor.
Seeing that the Emperor had not responded to his first suggestion, he continued: “Or perhaps assign more attendants to serve at His Highness’s side. If His Highness has any movements, they can report them promptly to Your Majesty.”
“You’re suggesting that I have people spy on my own son?” The Emperor’s expression darkened. “Drag him away. He is never to serve before me again.”
The Chief Eunuch glanced at the young attendant as he was gagged and dragged out. Inwardly, he sneered—a fool with no sense. Transferred from the Imperial Stables, barely established in his post, and after receiving a little imperial favor over the past few days, he had already begun meddling in imperial family matters. He had become so arrogant that he’d forgotten his own station. Truly courting death.
Carefully studying the Emperor’s expression, the Chief Eunuch quietly replaced the tea on the imperial desk with a cup that had cooled to a gentler temperature.
The Emperor took several sips of the lukewarm tea and barely managed to suppress the anger rising in his chest. “To the Empress’s palace.”
Back then, Huai’er had been kept like a dog or a cat by that drunken madman, chained inside a house, suffering endless abuse while being deprived of all freedom. How could he, as a father, bear to have people watching his son’s every word and action now?
The rope that restricted movement could be seen. The rope that monitored one’s speech and behavior could not. But what real difference was there between them?
He and the Empress were Huai’er’s parents. What they wanted were loyal attendants around their son, not informants reporting on him.
Burdened with worries, the Emperor arrived at the Empress’s palace.
The imperial couple spent over half an hour discussing the matter. They considered every possibility before finally reaching a conclusion: If the child liked going out, that meant he would probably spend more money in the future.
The solution was obvious. Give him more gold and silver. And send a few imperial chefs over while they were at it. If his health were improving, his appetite would improve too. His meals could not be neglected.
Then the Empress remembered that rewarding only her eldest son while neglecting her younger son would be inappropriate. So she prepared a reward for Prince Luo as well.
“That pastry chef must be sent to Prince Ruining’s residence,” the Empress instructed. “Prince Ruining likes the pastries he makes.” She still remembered her eldest son asking for that chef’s recipe.
“Sigh.” The Emperor felt both happy and worried. It was a good thing that his son was willing to leave the house. But he was also afraid that schemers might take advantage of him. He almost wanted to assign two more squads of Jinwu Guards to Prince Ruining’s residence.
According to Great An law, although princes residing in the capital could maintain their own administrative and household offices, the combined number of servants, guards, attendants, and laborers could not exceed three hundred. Last year, when he had secretly added fifty extra armored guards to Prince Ruining’s residence, officials immediately jumped out to object. Sometimes it genuinely frustrated him. As a father, he wasn’t even afraid of giving his son a few extra men. So what were those officials afraid of? That Huai’er would rebel and become Emperor?
If Huai’er truly possessed that kind of ambition and energy, the Emperor felt he would leap out of bed in the middle of the night and laugh for joy while thanking the ancestors of the Ling family for their blessings.
“Sigh.” The Emperor felt his sighs were more bitter than yellow lotus root.
An eldest son in poor health, completely uninterested in worldly affairs, who casually called himself a dying man whenever disagreements arose.
A younger son with a bad temper, average judgment, and a habit of looking down on absolutely everyone.
Rather than pinning hopes on his children, perhaps he should focus on preserving his own health and living a few more years with a clear mind.
For an Emperor, the most important skill was maintaining perspective.
“What are you sighing about?” After arranging everything, the Empress turned around and saw the Emperor endlessly lamenting to himself. She endured it for a while before finally losing patience.
“Stop sighing all the time. It’s bad for your fortune.”
The Emperor immediately shut his mouth. Being Emperor really was better. Back when he lived in the prince’s residence, whenever he sighed too much, the Empress would scold him outright: “Sigh, sigh, sigh! At this rate you’ll sigh away all your good fortune!”
Now the Empress rarely scolded him in public anymore. Instead, she gently reminded him. The Empress treated him so well. Hehe~
“What do you think Huai’er is doing right now?” the Empress asked uneasily.
“Should we ask him tomorrow?” the Emperor suggested hesitantly.
The imperial couple exchanged a look. Which of them would be the one to ask? And what if they did ask, only for Huai’er to think they were trying to interfere in his private affairs?
The ten years they had been separated, and everything their child had suffered, left them unable to figure out how to treat him. Their overwhelming guilt nearly drowned them. It also ensured that, in front of their eldest son, they could never act like ordinary parents.
“So sour!” Yun Qiya’s eyebrows twisted together after one bite of hawthorn cake. Turning around, she saw that her little partner was expressionlessly reaching for a second piece.
Immediately, she grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t eat any more. Food this sour will hurt your stomach.”
She pressed a hand to her cheek, numb from the tartness. “You… don’t think it’s sour?”
“It’s not too bad.” Ling Yanhuai set the hawthorn cake down.
Seeing the shock on her face, he wiped the sugar powder from his fingertips with a handkerchief and lowered his eyes. “It really isn’t very good, though.”
He poured her a cup of tea. “Rinse your mouth.”
“Thank you.” Yun Qiya admired his hands as she accepted the tea.
Long fingers. Elegant proportions. Clearly defined joints.
Ling Yanhuai curled his right little finger inward. That finger had been broken the day before he was brought back to the palace. Although the imperial physicians had long since healed it, he still wanted to hide that imperfect finger when he was around Yun Qiya.
“Ling Shou’an, your hands are really beautiful.” Yun Qiya stretched out her own left hand. A faint pale scar crossed her ring finger. “When I was eight, I tried learning to ride cattle with my father. I fell off and sliced this finger open.”
She rubbed the pinkish-white scar left behind by the healed wound. “A fortune-telling granny once said that my fate was simply too good. She claimed my ancestors were afraid Heaven would become jealous and take me away, so they let my hand get scarred a little to ensure I’d grow up safely.”
She sighed dramatically, clearly quite pleased with her supposedly excellent fortune. Changing angles, she repeatedly held up the tiny scar, which was barely visible anymore, for him to inspect.
“What can I do?”
“This is probably the badge of honor awarded to people born with exceptionally good luck.”
Of course, she left out the part where, after falling off the cow, she had cried her eyes out and made a tremendous fuss.
Ling Yanhuai, who had been about to tell her he had some scar-removal ointment, carefully examined the mark on her ring finger. The scar was so faint that it was almost impossible to see unless one looked closely. He swallowed the words he had been about to say. Judging by her expression, she probably had no interest in removing it.
After sufficiently displaying her “glorious scar,” Yun Qiya propped her chin in her hands and looked out the window. “I think it’s going to rain tomorrow.”
Ling Yanhuai turned to look at the gloomy sky outside.
“If it rains, don’t go out,” Yun Qiya instructed. “It’s easy to get sick during seasonal changes. You need to take better care of yourself.”
Her little partner looked far from robust. It would be troublesome if he fell ill again.
“Alright,” Ling Yanhuai replied. He wanted to say that he had gone to the Imperial Clan Court on rainy days before, and that she had come to find him even then. But he said nothing. He was afraid that if he did, she might find him annoying.
In the middle of the night, a fine rain drifted down across the entire capital.
The drunken man’s furious shouting and curses. Curious villagers peeking through the courtyard gate to watch the spectacle. The pain burned throughout his body.
Ling Yanhuai knew he was dreaming. The filthy, foul-smelling drunkard in the dream had long since died. His ashes had been scattered beyond recovery. Calmly, he opened his eyes. His hand touched the cool silk coverlet.
“Someone.” He sat up and pulled the quilt back over his waist. “Summon the imperial physician.” His palms were burning hot. He must have developed a fever.
Imperial Physician Wang was dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. When he heard that the summons came from Prince Ruining’s residence rather than the palace, he rubbed his old face. Perhaps he was still half asleep. Had he really heard that Prince Ruining himself had requested medical treatment?
Only after racing through the rain in a carriage and finally sitting before Prince Ruining did he fully realize the person asking for treatment was truly Prince Ruining.
The rain outside wasn’t red. The sky wasn’t falling. Prince Ruining was actually cooperating with treatment voluntarily.
Having long grown accustomed to Prince Ruining’s attitude of if I live, I live; if I die, I die, Physician Wang felt unexpectedly moved.
Just look at what the imperial family had done to him. They had given him power and status— and a heart so battered it no longer functioned normally.
“Your Highness, there is nothing seriously wrong with your body. The deficits from your childhood simply require gradual recovery.” After taking his pulse, Physician Wang continued, “Once I administer a course of acupuncture, the fever should subside. With another two doses of medicine and three to five days of rest, you’ll recover completely.” Then he noticed Prince Ruining staring at him with an eerie intensity.
Physician Wang’s heart immediately skipped a beat.
Please don’t start talking about dying again. I’m old. I can’t handle that kind of fright anymore.
“Physician Wang’s medical skills are exceptional.” Ling Yanhuai looked at him steadily. “May I ask whether you can cure me completely before the sky clears today?”
Physician Wang: “…?”
A royal patient willing to seek treatment was certainly a good thing. But wasn’t this a little too enthusiastic? Did His Highness hear what he had just said? He was an imperial physician, not a miracle worker.
Fortunately, although Prince Ruining’s request was absurd, he wasn’t the type to start trouble when disappointed. After being told it was impossible, he simply lay down obediently and waited for the acupuncture treatment.
Physician Wang felt moved again. Yes. Treating members of the imperial family really was that easy because there were so few normal people among them.
The news that Prince Ruining’s residence had summoned an imperial physician in the middle of the night was reported by Jinwu Guards on patrol.
Before long, the news reached both the Emperor and the Empress. Once the palace bestowed medicinal herbs, many noble families in the capital soon learned of it.
At breakfast, the old marquis said to Yun Zhongsheng: “If nothing urgent arises in the next few days, everyone should stay home. Especially you—don’t go mixing with those idle rakes and stirring up trouble.”
“Father, rest assured. If you forbid me from going out, I won’t take a single step beyond the gate.” Yun Zhongsheng was curious. “But Father, what has happened in the capital?”
“Prince Ruining has fallen ill again.”
“He’s sick—what does that have to do with whether we go out or not? I don’t even know him,” Yun Zhongsheng said, puzzled.
“Last year, when Prince Ruining was gravely ill, a few scions of the imperial clan made mischief in the city and accidentally injured a commoner. His Majesty not only punished those rakes severely, but also demoted their families’ noble ranks by one degree.” The old marquis shook his head. “Whenever Prince Ruining’s illness worsens, His Majesty’s mood is never good.”
“When the emperor’s son lies gravely ill, and they still brawl and harm the people, being punished is only what they deserve,” Yun Qiya added. “All the more so when it happens right under His Majesty’s nose.”
Even she, who had been back in the capital for less than two months, knew how much the emperor cherished Prince Ruining. Could those rakes truly not know?
Whether they knew or not last year, this year’s young nobles were far more cautious. Their steps were smaller than usual, and if they saw an elderly man tottering along, they would rather circle around than risk brushing past him. None of them wished to court disaster at such a time.
The rain fell heavier and heavier. At home, Yun Qiya received an invitation from Lu Mingzhu.
Bored by the dreary weather, Lu Mingzhu had invited two lively storytellers to her residence and asked Yun Qiya to join her for amusement.
It was Yun Qiya’s first formal visit to the Princess’s manor. She had felt a little reserved at first, but the servants treated her with unusual warmth, and even Princess Rongshan herself came out to greet her.
“Mother, I’m taking Qiya to my courtyard. When Sister Song arrives, please send her to find us there,” Lu Mingzhu said, tugging Yun Qiya’s hand and hurrying off with delight.
The eunuch beside Princess Rongshan watched them run off, smiling as he bowed. “Your Highness, it has been so long since I’ve seen the young lady laugh so happily.”
Princess Rongshan: “…”
“Jishun,” she said at last, “when you’re off duty, perhaps you should spend less time with those storybooks.”
Jishun lowered his head even further. How did Her Highness know he secretly loved reading tales?
By the time Song Daowan arrived, Yun Qiya and Lu Mingzhu were already critiquing the storytellers’ plot, changing the tale of a scholar and a female spirit’s happy union into a battle between the spirit and a demon, with the scholar sent flying by a single slap.
The storytellers had not wanted to alter their story, but the two young ladies paid them far too generously to refuse. It wasn’t that they cared for money themselves—rather, they believed that a storyteller must please the listeners, and the listeners should enjoy the tale as they wished. Is this what they call bowing for five pecks of rice? No—this was pure love for storytelling.
“Sister Song, come sit!” Yun Qiya beckoned Song Daowan over.
Song Daowan plopped down and gulped half a cup of tea in one go.
“Where have you been lately, Sister Song? I went to the Song family’s full‑month banquet the other day and didn’t see you.” Yun Qiya pushed the plate of pastries closer to her.
“My brother and sister‑in‑law have been married eight years, and only now did they finally have a child. I spent half a month at Baiyun Temple, bathing and fasting, to pray for a longevity talisman for him.”
After half a month of bland living, Song Daowan didn’t mind the cloying sweetness of the pastries—she ate several pieces in a row.
“His Majesty and the Empress also had to wait eight years before Prince Ruining was born,” Lu Mingzhu whispered. “My mother told me that after his birth, the Emperor and Empress cherished him like the apple of their eye. His Majesty even changed his swaddling cloths himself.”
“Do you know why Prince Luo never looks people in the eye and has such a foul temper?”
“Maybe his brain isn’t quite right,” Yun Qiya said offhandedly.
“Exactly.” Lu Mingzhu nodded. “Back then, a fire broke out at the prince’s manor. The Empress was so grief‑stricken that Prince Luo’s birth was delayed. I suspect that’s when something went wrong in his head—so now he likes to act deranged.”
Yun Qiya: “…” Confirmed—another companion who wasn’t fond of Prince Luo.
Whether Prince Luo has gone mad is uncertain, but right now he (the gray robe man) is already on the verge of losing his mind. He had invested over a thousand taels of silver in the Yun family’s second-branch silk shop, yet hadn’t even met a single member of that household—not even one of their stewards. To take advantage of him so brazenly, without offering the slightest courtesy—how thick‑skinned could they be?
“Honored guest, all the fabrics you ordered are ready. Would you like to check them?”
The man in gray remained silent. He had paid more than triple the market price for these bolts of cloth. Anyone with a sound mind would be curious about his intentions, or at least send someone to probe. How could there be no reaction at all?
The Yun family’s second branch, descended from a marquis’s house, and yet they lacked even this much shrewdness?
Accustomed to sparring with clever opponents, the man in gray found Prince Luo and the Yun family’s second branch dullness, gave him, for the first time, the helpless feeling of a scholar meeting a soldier—reason was useless. He touched the disguise on his face, making sure no one could recognize him, and smiled politely. “No need to check—the reputation of your shop puts me at ease.”
At a time like this, surely they should be curious…
“Well then, once the goods leave the counter, don’t come back to us—we won’t acknowledge them.” The shopkeeper closed the account book with a warm smile. “We look forward to your next visit.”
“Manager Lin.” Yun Qiya left the Princess’s manor and stopped by the silk shop to fetch her mother’s ledger. “How was business today?”
“Peace to you, young lady. Today we received a large final payment.” The shopkeeper handed her the ledger. “Here is this month’s account book—please keep it safe.”
Inside the gray robe, he screamed silently: That final payment was mine! Aren’t you even curious enough to ask? Ask! Quickly!
Yun Qiya flipped through the ledger casually, then tucked it into her sleeve. “Thank you for your hard work, Manager.”
The gray‑robed man’s hand trembled as he clutched the silk. A thousand taels! How can you not ask? Last time, when you feared I was an old man trying to extort you, your reaction was sharp enough. Now, as his emotions surged, Yun Qiya finally turned her head toward him. But before he could speak, her gaze slipped away again.
“Manager, that pale‑blue bolt in his hand is lovely. Save me one length—I’ll have it made into clothes.”
Clothes, clothes—always clothes! I despise you, you blockhead!
Afraid his disguise would crack from the strain, the gray‑robed man stormed out of the shop—straight into a carriage.
“Old fool! You dare bump into this prince’s carriage? Take him to the yamen for questioning!”
Author’s note: The Yun family’s second branch: If you want to throw silver around, that’s your business. It has nothing to do with us—we’re running an honest trade.