The name has been updated from ‘Wen Renlin’ to ‘Wenren Lin.’ Apologies for the error.

Chapter 67: The Classics Lecture

Zhao Yan once again went to Kunning Palace to greet her mother empress. Upon leaving, she subconsciously slowed her steps and looked in the direction of the Taiji Hall.

She dismissed Liu Ying and the other palace attendants and waited alone on the deserted palace path for nearly half an hour. Finally, she saw Wenren Lin emerge gracefully from the Taiji Gate.

Zhao Yan turned and waited in place for him to approach.

Today, Wenren Lin was wearing a dark robe with civil and military sleeves. His broad shoulders and long legs stood out against the backdrop of the palace walls and black tiles—like the boldest stroke in a painted scroll.

He paused, his pitch-black eyes reflecting the small figure of Zhao Yan, then suddenly smiled and said,

“Your Highness seems to be hesitating. Have you finished off that jar of the wine?”

The faint frost-like air diluted the dryness of the early autumn sunlight.

Zhao Yan took a light breath and walked beside him.

“Can’t I look for you for something else?”

“Of course you can. That cat still gets fed three times a day and has gained a bit of weight.”

“Oh, that’s good…”

…

…

But it wasn’t really about the cat.

The green shade reached over the palace walls, brushing over their heads in patches of light and shadow, dappled and shifting.

Zhao Yan gathered her sleeves and walked, glancing at Wenren Lin’s usual calm expression beside her.

“These past two days, have you been alright? Your medicine…”

“Is Your Highness trying to say that if this prince runs out of medicine, will I die?”

Wenren Lin looked at the clearly startled Zhao Yan, the mysterious amusement in his eyes deepening.

“Is Your Highness… worried about me?”

“I just… casually asked.”

Zhao Yan’s voice grew vague. She turned her head to watch the shadows of the two of them move side by side on the wall.

“After all, I still rely on the Grand Mentor’s protection for now.”

“Your Highness is like snow melting in a red furnace—handling matters with your own judgment. When have you ever truly relied on me?”

Wenren Lin teased her slowly, then mercifully let the matter go.

“Doesn’t Your Highness always say that troublemakers live long? I’m not that easy to kill.”

“That’s true.”

Zhao Yan nodded in agreement. The heavy breath in her chest loosened significantly, and she followed up with another question,

“Then… is there someone else making medicine for the Grand Mentor?”

Wenren Lin slowed his steps and looked steadily at Zhao Yan’s delicate face, disguised as a young boy.

That moment of relief on her face didn’t escape his notice. He saw a bright, unspoken emotion—even before she realized it herself.

Wenren Lin lowered his gaze. The shadow of a tree passed across his face, flickering between light and dark. He lived in the abyss, unable to endure warmth, yet when the light reached him, a sliver of joy—secretive and unworthy—still bloomed in his heart.

Zhao Yan clearly misunderstood Wenren Lin’s silence. Her question had been a bit intrusive—like she was deliberately probing for intelligence.

She focused on the dancing shadows of the trees on the ground and smoothly changed the topic.

“The classics lecture will begin in a few days. Will the Grand Mentor be presiding over it?”

Wenren Lin replied blandly,

“This prince has no interest in watching those pedantic scholars argue.”

Right now, Luozhou was in turmoil—it was time to close the net.

Zhao Yan gave a low “Oh,” then turned her head to glance at the heavy material of Wenren Lin’s robe and couldn’t help commenting,

“The Grand Mentor seems to privately favor dark robes with civil and military sleeves.”

Zhao Yan quite liked how he looked in those robes—resolute yet elegant, like a scholar-general of both pen and sword. Not as fiercely sharp and flamboyant as when he wore his crimson official robe.

Wenren Lin simply stopped walking and stared intently at Zhao Yan.

The little princess had many questions, most of which stemmed from an interest in him. Like she’d found something she cherished and was now brimming with curiosity.

Though it was all his own indulgence that led to this…

Wenren Lin’s gaze shifted subtly, then returned to calm and warmth. After a long pause, he finally said gently, under Zhao Yan’s puzzled gaze,

“Your Highness should know… this prince has two older brothers.”

Zhao Yan nodded. That wasn’t a secret.

“My eldest brother, Wenren Cang, was brave and skilled in battle. At the age of sixteen, he wore armor and led a daring raid on the enemy camp, earning fame with a single battle. My second brother, Wenren Mu, is a master of military strategy. In his scholarly robes, he earned the title of ‘Little Strategist,’ and his battle formations have never seen defeat.”

Wenren Lin spoke casually, raising a hand to brush away the branches overhead.

“During the Battle of Yanluo Pass in the tenth year of Tianyou, my eldest brother sacrificed himself to protect the city, luring the enemy alone, only to die beneath their horses’ hooves, with no trace of his body left. When the enemy rain of arrows assaulted the city, my second brother and his guards shielded me with their own bodies, giving me a chance to survive.”

When they died, both the military and scholarly robes were soaked in blood, already torn and full of holes.

Wenren Lin could still recall the intense smell of blood and the acrid stench of rotting corpses.

The tree shadows swayed gently. Zhao Yan listened to Wenren Lin speak of those bloody pasts in a deep, calm voice. A sense of sorrow rose from the depths of her heart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

She only knew that when Wenren Lin had survived, it had been after lying beneath a pile of corpses, barely escaping with his life. But she didn’t know those corpses… were the bodies of the ones he loved most, forming a wall of flesh and blood to protect him.

The deaths of Wenren Cang and Wenren Mu were not so different from the fate of Zhao Yan and Shen Jingming among the military generals.

Wenren Lin saw her furrowed brows and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your Highness, why the long face, as if you’re carrying a heavy grudge? Death is like a lamp extinguishing—this prince doesn’t wear these clothes to memorialize the dead, but to remind myself.”

His thick eyelashes lowered, casting a faint shadow over his eyes. He spoke softly,

“I’m not a good man. Your Highness can continue to act spoiled or use me as you wish, but please, do not expect too much from me.”

“…What do you mean?”

Zhao Yan tilted her head, not quite understanding.

Wenren Lin’s gaze softened with pity. He raised his hand gently to touch the place where Zhao Yan had tightly bound her chest, as he often did when teaching her in the Chongwen Hall.

“Your Highness, guard this clear heart of yours, and don’t let it be disappointed or hurt.”

She was born brilliant. But a person who crawled out from the abyss has no future.

Wenren Lin’s words were gentle, but how perceptive was Zhao Yan?

She slowly blinked her eyes, understanding his meaning. She nodded and replied,

“Alright.”

Their relationship had always been this way.

She nodded solemnly again and whispered,

“I will.”

Despite her words, in that moment, it felt as if her heart was gently tugged.

A sudden pull, and then it slowly sank, leaving behind a faint sense of unfamiliar melancholy.

On the 12th of August, the Classics Lecture was held. The Emperor gathered his ministers at the Chongwen Hall for a lecture.

After the long ceremonial proceedings, the Emperor sat beside and listened, while the ministers were arranged by rank on either side of the lecture hall, awaiting the lecture.

The Emperor had recently been troubled by the turmoil in Luozhou and only appeared for such major events. The rest of the time, he left the crown prince to attend as a substitute.

Zhao Yan’s seat was on the left side of the Emperor, with Pei Sa and Liu Baiwei by her side.

At first, only Pei Sa accompanied her, but since he wasn’t very interested in literature, Zhao Yan had arranged for Liu Baiwei to join them for convenience, in case she needed help with any unclear parts.

Huo Zhenzhen, upon hearing that her “Crown Prince Brother” would be staying in the Chongwen Hall for several months to attend the lectures, insisted on attending the Classics Lecture as well.

The Emperor, already feeling guilty toward Princess Shoukang due to the Crown Prince’s assassination attempt on his birthday, agreed after some thought. He allowed Huo Zhenzhen to accompany the princess as a reading companion, along with the unmarried Fourth Princess, Zhao Xuan.

A curtain was hung in the eastern wing of Chongwen Hall, isolating it from the main hall. Before the lecture began, two figures, one lively and one calm, were seen entering from behind the curtain—Huo Zhenzhen and the Fourth Princess, Zhao Xuan.

As Zhao Yan took her seat, she noticed Pei Sa, who usually disliked literature, had changed into a wide-sleeved scholarly robe. He sat properly, with his hand resting on his knee, eyes following the two graceful figures behind the curtain. He didn’t even notice when a purple brush fell from the desk.

Zhao Yan followed his gaze and smiled knowingly. She raised a finger to her chin and asked,

“If I remember correctly, Lord Jinping and General Huo share a deep friendship, and the two families often interact, right?”

Pei Sa seemed to snap out of a daze, hurriedly shifting his gaze away, “What does Your Highness mean?”

“Were you just looking at an old acquaintance?”

“…?”

Pei Sa furrowed his brows and said gruffly, “Your Highness doesn’t mean to say that I was just looking at Huo Zhenzhen, do you?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Zhao Yan was surprised and turned to follow his evasive gaze.

Recalling the scene during the birthday banquet when the eunuch attempted an assassination and Pei Sa instinctively stood to protect himself and Zhao Xuan, Zhao Yan understood something, her eyes widening with shock.

Only two delicate young girls had been seated, and if Pei Sa wasn’t looking at Huo Zhenzhen, then the person who could distract him like that could only be her fourth sister, Zhao Xuan.

When Zhao Yan first moved to Huayang, she was still young and didn’t have a deep impression of Zhao Xuan. She only knew that Zhao Xuan was born to a palace maid of the Yeting Palace and had suffered a severe illness as a child, causing her to lose hearing in her right ear.

When Zhao Xuan was still ill, her biological mother was executed for “unfilial” conduct, and she was subsequently entrusted to the care of the Virtuous Consort. However, the Virtuous Consort died in less than two years, and Zhao Xuan was passed to the care of Xu Wanyi.

Zhao Xuan was the only one among the five surviving princesses who still had no title.

Zhao Yan had seen her only twice after returning to the palace. Each time, she either hid in a corner reading or sat there, dazed. Her humble origins and deafness in her right ear had caused Zhao Xuan to develop a reserved and quiet nature, making her presence almost imperceptible. Even at family feasts, she would always keep her head lowered and behave submissively.

But curiously, Xu Wanyi, who had always been indifferent and domineering toward Zhao Xuan, suddenly changed her demeanor. She asked the Emperor to arrange a marriage between Zhao Xuan and her nephew, Xu Maojun, saying that she wanted to personally officiate the union.

Zhao Yan had always found this marriage suspicious. If Xu Wanyi wanted to promote her nephew, why would she choose someone of lowly birth like the fourth princess Zhao Xuan?

But despite her doubts, Zhao Xuan’s engagement was already a done deal.

“Do you know, Lord Pei, that my fourth sister has already been betrothed?”

In order to prevent Pei Sa from losing composure in front of the Emperor, Zhao Yan kindly reminded him and pointed to a slender young man seated at the far end of the civil officials’ row. “That man is my fourth sister’s fiance, Xe Maojun. I’ve heard that his literary talents are exceptional, and he’s considered a rising star.”

Pei Sa’s hand tightened into a fist as he replied, “I know.”

Liu Baiwei, seated behind Zhao Yan on her left, was eavesdropping on the secret conversation. Upon hearing this, he scoffed and said, “What ‘exceptional talent’? With my eye for people, that Xu guy clearly doesn’t have true skills. He’s probably just a man of empty reputation… we’ll see.”

Just then, the lecture by the Tai Jian official began, and the hall fell silent. Zhao Yan straightened and sat upright, ceasing to speak.

The sunlight gradually moved away from the desk, and milky white smoke flowed from the beastly furnace.

In the hall, aside from the Tai Jian official’s discourse and the Emperor’s occasional inquiries, not even a single cough could be heard.

The questions the Emperor asked were sharp and to the point, which surprised Zhao Yan. Over the years, her impression of her father had been one of calm indifference, wearing a Daoist robe and surrounded by the heavy scent of incense mixed with medicinal pills.

It seemed Liu Baiwei noticed her thoughts. He leaned slightly forward and whispered, “I heard that nineteen years ago, a young man used a birthday banquet to set a trap, eliminating the rebel king and thieves, and after taking power, he cleared the land in the south, reduced taxes, focused on agriculture, and pushed forward several reforms. This brought the Great Xuan dynasty nearly ten years of brief prosperity…”

Zhao Yan’s interest was piqued, and she asked, “Who was this person?”

Liu Baiwei’s expression became complex as he glanced toward the Emperor on the throne. His voice lowered, “Your father, the current Emperor.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yan’s expression also grew complex.

The once energetic and diligent emperor who had worked for the prosperity of the people had now overturned his own policies, lost in the pursuit of immortality and other illusory matters.

“It’s cold at the top, and it’s easy to lose oneself.”

The man who once spoke for the common people now could barely hear their cries.

Thinking of this, Zhao Yan suddenly said, “Liu Baiwei, do you think that in the future, I…?”

She had originally wanted to ask if she, too, would one day forget her true self because of the power and position she might hold.

However, after a moment’s thought, she realized that her role as the “Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace” was fake, and the identity was borrowed. Sooner or later, she would have to give it up and return it cleanly.

This question was truly unnecessary.

Liu Baiwei, however, noticed her thoughts and smiled freely, saying, “Your Highness, don’t worry. Even if there comes a time when you forget your true self, I will do my best to advise you.”

Zhao Yan shook her head and smiled, “I’m afraid that when the time comes, it will be hard to listen to uncomfortable truths…”

It was an offhand remark, yet it struck Zhao Yan’s heart deeply.

The sudden flash of insight shattered the fog in her mind, and an uncontrollable thought sprang to life.

When her father, the Emperor, made mistakes in the past, was there anyone who advised him?

At the hour of Shen, the day’s lecture finally concluded. Zhao Yan bowed and followed the crowd out of the Chongwen Hall.

Liu Baiwei noticed her furrowed brows but didn’t ask further. Instead, he silently accompanied her, escorting her part of the way.

“Liu Baiwei.”

Zhao Yan stopped, standing in the slanted sunlight and called out, “I’ve heard that Father Emperor and General Wenren were like brothers. His successful ascension to the throne was also due to the contributions of the Wenren family… Is that true?”

“Ah? Oh.”

Liu Baiwei was momentarily stunned, then replied, “That’s indeed the case… Why are you asking about this all of a sudden, Your Highness?”

Zhao Yan herself wasn’t quite sure. She just had a gut feeling that there was some untangled connection in all of this.

Her mind was full of confusion, and her head felt heavy. She furrowed her brows and pressed her temples, unsure whether she should go ask Wenren Lin.

But Wenren Lin didn’t like it when she crossed boundaries.

The last time she asked him a few more questions, he warned her, “Don’t have too many expectations,” and advised her to “stay clear-headed,” saying all sorts of things…

Forget it, it’s better not to bother him.

After all, this matter wasn’t related to the Eastern Palace, so why interfere?

Zhao Yan sighed, absentmindedly kicking a pebble in front of her. “Let’s go…”

Just as she lifted her head, she saw someone walking toward her on the narrow palace path.

Under the setting sun, he wore a deep red official robe that seemed stained with blood, floating like a deity.

Zhao Yan’s heart skipped a beat. Before her thoughts could catch up, her body had already reacted instinctively.

She suddenly turned around and urged Liu Baiwei, “Hurry up, hurry up!”

Watching Zhao Yan’s hurried back, Wenren Lin paused in his calm stride, his eyes slowly narrowing.

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