Shen Zhiyi lowered her head, putting on a timid, uneasy appearance.
But she knew—he had seen it.
Her sleeve was slightly raised, the outline of that book impossible to fully conceal.
Xiao Jue looked at her for a long time.
So long that Consort Shu’s face turned pale, so long that Consort De lowered her gaze, so long that the officials from the Imperial Observatory didn’t dare breathe.
“The omen lies in people’s hearts, not in the heavens,” he repeated her words.
“Interesting.”
Then he turned and left.
Huai’an followed, but as he passed Shen Zhiyi, his steps slowed for a moment.
“Your Ladyship,” he said in a low voice, meant only for her.
“That window in the corner tower… best not look that way again.”
Shen Zhiyi’s heart skipped.
She lifted her gaze toward the corner tower beside Yujing Pavilion—second floor, a half-open window.
From that angle, the entire Imperial Garden could be seen.
Behind that window, someone had been watching.
Not just now.
All along.
From the moment she stepped into the Imperial Garden, the person behind that window had been observing her.
Xiao Jue.
He had been watching how she dealt with Consort Shu, how she handled the Imperial Observatory, how she responded to him.
She was probing his depth.
He was probing her truth.
Shen Zhiyi withdrew her gaze, the corners of her lips curving slightly.
“Qingtang,” she said softly.
“Let’s go back.”
“Miss?” Qingtang looked confused. “But we’ve only been here for less than half an hour…”
“That’s enough.” Shen Zhiyi started walking.
“This performance has gone on long enough for today.”
On the way back to Fangcao Hall, Qingtang held it in for a long time before finally speaking.
“Miss, why did you say that just now? That thing about the omen lying in people’s hearts… His Majesty had already turned to leave, and you still called him back…”
Shen Zhiyi didn’t answer.
She recalled the look in Xiao Jue’s eyes when he turned around.
It wasn’t anger at being challenged.
It was—I’ve been waiting for you to say that.
He knew everything.
He knew she was pretending to be naive, knew she was hiding that book, knew she wasn’t the real Shen Zhiyi.
But he didn’t expose her.
He was waiting.
Waiting for her to reveal her hand on her own.
Shen Zhiyi touched the Records of Astronomical Observations hidden in her sleeve.
“The Emperor Star is dim. The Empress seat lies vacant.”
The person who wrote those words ten years ago—where were they now?
Dead? Or hidden somewhere in this palace, waiting to see how this game would end?
She looked up at the sky.
The sun was slanting westward, and the wind had picked up.
In the courtyard of Fangcao Hall, the row of radish sprouts swayed gently in the breeze.
Qingtang crouched down to look, suddenly exclaiming in delight,
“Miss, there are new sprouts coming up!”
Shen Zhiyi walked over and crouched beside her.
In the soil, seven or eight tender green shoots were pushing upward, breaking through the dirt, trembling lightly in the wind.
“Miss,” Qingtang asked softly, “does His Majesty… know something?”
Shen Zhiyi didn’t answer.
She reached out and gently touched the delicate sprouts.
“Qingtang.”
“Yes?”
“Starting tomorrow, come check on these radishes every morning.”
Qingtang blinked. “Check… the radishes?”
“Yes.” Shen Zhiyi stood up, brushing the dirt from her hands.
“See how tall they grow, how long they live, how much they yield.”
Qingtang nodded, half understanding.
Shen Zhiyi turned and walked toward the hall.
At the doorway, she paused and looked back at the courtyard.
The setting sun cast a soft golden glow over the tender sprouts.
She thought of Xiao Jue’s final words—“Interesting.”
He hadn’t asked who she was.
Hadn’t asked what she was hiding.
Just—interesting.
Shen Zhiyi smiled.
She pushed the door open and entered the hall.
She took out the Records of Astronomical Observations and placed it on the table.
The page flipped open to that blank space, the line of writing faintly yellowed in the sunset light.
“The Emperor Star is dim,” she murmured.
Outside, the wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the radish sprouts.
Seven days since sprouting—this growth wasn’t bad.
And as for information—
It would be sprouting soon too.