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

Chapter 68: Deer Blood

Liu Baiwei was actually a little afraid of Wenren Lin.

That person was incomprehensible to him—dangerous and unpredictable. Smart people always have an innate fear of things they cannot understand.

He was urged by Zhao Yan to move forward, but he turned around and muttered, “I’m like this now. What can he possibly do to me?”

Zhao Yan sighed, “It’s not because of you.”

She had clearly thought it through—when facing Wenren Lin, she should always maintain a calm and clear mind, keeping the delicate balance between them. But at the last moment, her body instinctively reacted with avoidance.

Liu Baiwei crossed his arms, observing Zhao Yan’s expression. He furrowed his brows and asked, “So, he’s bullying you?”

Zhao Yan froze for a moment and helplessly replied, “It’s really not the case. Do you think I’m someone who can be bullied?”

“That’s true. Your Highness’s tongue is as sharp as ever.”

Liu Baiwei slightly relaxed and then quietly reminded, “If he does try to bully you, you must tell me. Now that I’m at least your distant cousin, I have the right to speak up for you!”

…

Zhao Yan couldn’t help but smile, and with that distraction, her previous feelings of frustration and entanglement dissipated quite a bit.

She still had many things to do and didn’t have time to be melancholic, so she composed herself, gathering her thoughts again.

When they arrived at the Changqing Gate, they saw several civil officials gathered together, holding a piece of silk paper, occasionally pointing and laughing, clearly enjoying themselves.

“What are they doing?” Zhao Yan asked curiously.

Liu Baiwei glanced over and sneered, “They’re probably passing around Xu Maojun’s poems. The poems may be neat and beautiful, but they lack power and have a somewhat perfumed air. They’re really not worth this much praise.”

Zhao Yan knew he was displeased, so she laughed and said, “You’re more talented than him. Why don’t you give it a try yourself?”

The Imperial Academy’s lectures focused on selecting the worthy, and according to tradition, after each lecture, the royal sons and other listeners would gather to practice writing or composing poems based on the topics discussed that day. These works would be submitted to the emperor and the lecturer to highlight the best pieces, which would be praised together.

It was an excellent opportunity to be noticed by the emperor, which was why Xu Maojun was trying so hard to show off, hoping to gain the emperor’s favor and rise to power.

Unfortunately, Liu Baiwei had not picked up a brush, and Zhou Ji was too dismissive of seeking fame. Otherwise, it would be hard to say who would have claimed first place that day.

“Last year, at Mingde Hall, we agreed with His Highness the Crown Prince that we would first enter the court through the spring examination and then participate in the autumn’s grand debate at the Imperial Academy to gain the emperor’s attention, preparing for future reforms… Who would have thought that most of the successful candidates in the spring exam were chosen for their family background, not their talent? His Highness saw it too. Now, look at who is standing at the Imperial Academy’s lectures?”

At this point, Liu Baiwei scoffed, “The ones feeding off the royal favor are just puffing each other up, like chickens and dogs rising to the top. It’s just laughable. Who has the mood to compose anything?”

Liu Baiwei had a bit of youthful arrogance, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Zhao Yan said, “That’s why it’s often said that having wise ministers is not as important as having a wise ruler.”

“Who can argue with that? As the day turns to dusk, shadows gather; when one reaches middle age, it’s hard to maintain clarity. If only His Highness the Crown Prince were still around…”

Realizing they were near the palace gates, Liu Baiwei stopped his words in time. He crossed his arms, thinking for a long time before deciding, “No. Even if I’m the only one left, I must fight to the end. The day after tomorrow’s lecture, I’ll have to think of something to write and overshadow Xu Maojun.”

Zhao Yan nodded repeatedly, encouraging him, “Then, Lord Liu, good luck! It’s up to you!”

The two shared a friendly laugh, feeling at ease.

As they reached Changqing Gate, Zhao Yan glanced back quietly. The evening wind blew through the gate, filling her sleeves, and the golden red glow of the sunset lay over the ground. There was no sign of Wenren Lin.

She wasn’t sure whether she felt empty or relieved.

“Your Highness?” Liu Baiwei called.

Zhao Yan snapped out of her thoughts and, together with Liu Baiwei, passed through the Changqing Gate and got into their respective carriages.

The Imperial Academy held lectures every two days, with the second one scheduled for the 14th of August.

Today, the emperor was absent, and the attending officials all seemed a bit more relaxed.

Among the lectures, two were given by Wei Yan—one on calligraphy, the other on music. The fragrance of ink and the flowing sound of the qin created an atmosphere of elegance and beauty. The attendees were all caught up in the enjoyment, completely unaware of their surroundings.

Zhao Yan sat upright among a group of noble young men and sons of high-ranking officials, listening as a scholar in a robe lightly tapped the rhythm on his knee, following the music of the qin. He leaned towards the person next to him and whispered, “I’ve always known that the Duke of Ningyang’s calligraphy is unmatched, with a single piece worth a fortune, but I didn’t know his qin playing was also so pleasant to listen to.”

“The Duke of Ningyang is well-versed in music, but his best skill isn’t playing the qin; it’s actually playing the xiao, the special flute,” the person next to him responded with a smile. “If you ever hear his wife play the qin, you’ll understand what true flowing music sounds like, like the songs of phoenixes and the divine music of the heavens.”

Zhao Yan nodded in agreement. She was fortunate enough to have heard her uncle and aunt play the xiao and qin together when she was a child, and the memory remained vivid. Unfortunately, there was no place for women at the Imperial Academy’s lectures, and her aunt, often ill and anxious, seldom appeared in public. It was probably as hard as reaching the heavens to hear her play again.

After the calligraphy and music lesson, it was time for Zhou Ji to give his lecture on the Zhou Li (Rites of Zhou). Even the Left Chancellor, Li Kexing, had come with a cane to attend. As soon as he entered, all the court officials in the hall stood and made way for him, bowing respectfully to the revered elder statesman.

As the “Crown Prince’s Consort,” Zhao Yan also stood, performed a student’s bow, and personally invited Li Kexing to take a seat.

The two lecturing scholars exchanged polite gestures, with Zhou Ji and Wei Yan bowing to each other in the manner of scholars. One stood at the lectern while the other took a seat and placed his qin beside him, their every movement graceful and refined.

Zhou Ji’s lecture today was on the concept of “suitable land” from the Zhou Li. Interestingly, this was a topic Zhao Yan had once argued against him on while attending a lesson at Chongwen Hall. At the time, Zhou Ji didn’t rebut her argument but calmly said, “What you just said, Your Highness, reminds me of an old friend.”

Only today did Zhao Yan realize that Zhou Ji hadn’t been unable to counter her point, but simply didn’t care to engage in a verbal spar.

For today’s lesson, Zhou Ji used “suitable land” as his starting point, branching out to discuss the importance of timely sowing of crops, timely irrigation, and encouraging farming and construction. He concluded that fertile fields lead to abundant harvests, and abundant harvests lead to a prosperous nation—ultimately summarizing it all under the term “expanding sources.”

Zhao Yan had heard that Zhou Ji came from a prestigious family. According to tradition, important ministers had a certain number of spots to recommend friends or disciples to official positions in the court. With Zhou Ji’s family background, even if he did nothing, he could easily rise to power. But he had chosen to take the difficult path of the imperial examination and had won the top position through his own talents.

Zhao Yan had always thought of Zhou Ji as a somewhat rigid and uninteresting person, someone aloof due to his mild face blindness. However, once the subject of literature was brought up and he was speaking to the court officials, he seemed to come alive, as if he were swimming in a vast sea of literature, speaking in a humble yet resonant manner, passionately and elegantly arguing his points.

As the sun began to set, the officials listened attentively, occasionally whispering to each other and nodding in agreement. None of them noticed the tall figure that had appeared outside the hall.

The little eunuchs serving tea nearly dropped their cups when they saw Wenren Lin. Just as they were about to bow and apologize, they heard a quiet order from a deputy general nearby:

“Don’t make a sound, hurry and leave.”

The eunuchs, seeing that Lord Su’s gaze was fixed on the Imperial Academy and that he had no intention of punishing them, quickly rolled away.

Wenren Lin looked at Zhao Yan, who was seated in a secondary position. She was wearing a robe and jade crown, sitting upright and attentively listening to Zhou Ji’s lecture. Her profile was bathed in the warm glow of the evening sun as she occasionally furrowed her brows or smiled.

“Your Highness, would you like to go in and listen?” Zhang Cang quietly inquired.

Wenren Lin’s expression was neutral as he responded, hands behind his back, “No need.”

Without him, the little princess still had her own life to lead, which was exactly what he had hoped for. However…

Wenren Lin silently observed, feeling a slight constriction in his chest. After a while, he let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Why couldn’t he let go? It seemed that he was the one who couldn’t move on.

…

After Zhou Ji’s lecture, everyone gathered again to compose calligraphy and essays. This time, Liu Baiwei didn’t hold back and his essay earned resounding praise from everyone in the hall.

Xu Maojun was quickly overshadowed, standing awkwardly in a corner for a moment before leaving his seat in frustration. He slipped behind the curtain and headed towards the east wing.

Inside the wing sat the Fourth Princess, Zhao Xuan, quietly holding a scroll.

Tomorrow happened to be Mid-Autumn Festival, and the emperor had arranged a banquet in the palace to entertain the court officials. After leaving the Chongwen Hall, Zhao Yan teamed up with Liu Baiwei to help prepare for the palace banquet at the Ziyun Pavilion.

Liu Baiwei wore a proud expression, as though he had just claimed victory:

“Did Your Highness see Xu Maojun’s expression just now? His article might have been slightly lacking, yet he pulled such a long face, even longer than a donkey’s! Truly talented people would never act so petty and jealous. You can tell he’s just trying to create hype.”

Zhao Yan smiled softly and congratulated him, “Congratulations, indeed.”

“If my brothers knew about how brilliantly you spoke today, revealing things they could not, they would surely be delighted.”

Liu Baiwei’s confidence grew even more as he continued, “Among the noble sons, the only one I respect somewhat is Zhou Wanlan. Unfortunately, though Zhou Ji’s lecture was impressive, it still had that scholarly air about it.”

As they were talking, a sudden commotion ahead caught their attention.

Two young eunuchs in yellow uniforms shouted, “The son of the Duke of Jinping and Xu Bianxiu are fighting!”

“Pei Sa?” Zhao Yan was shocked and immediately rushed to see what was going on. Pei Sa was a companion reader to the Crown Prince, and if there was disorder at the palace gates and it caught the attention of her father, she too would face punishment.

Pei Sa, after all, was from a martial family, skilled in combat. When they said they were “fighting,” it was actually just Pei Sa overwhelming Xu Maojun, who was curled up and howling, defenseless.

Fourth Princess Zhao Xuan stood nearby, clutching her sleeves, her face pale with fear, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“What happened?” Zhao Yan asked, her breath slightly erratic, signaling to Liu Baiwei and Li Fu behind her, “Quickly, pull them apart!”

“Stop fighting, both of you, calm down!” Liu Baiwei attempted to separate the two, but Xu Maojun, scared out of his wits, accidentally elbowed Liu Baiwei in the chin while trying to defend himself.

“…”

Another elbow came flying. Liu Baiwei staggered back two steps, clutching his aching chin, unable to speak.

Accustomed to being the one in control, Liu Baiwei wasn’t the type to take it quietly. He immediately cursed, “Damn you,” and threw a punch at Xu Maojun, even joining the fight!

The scene turned chaotic, and Zhao Yan helplessly put her hand to her forehead.

Li Fu and another eunuch, both too weak to manage the situation, were running around trying to separate the two, when they began to cry out in frustration, “Liu Ying, go get some stronger eunuchs! We can’t let the Imperial Guard or the Censorate find out, or we’ll all be in trouble today!”

Liu Ying hesitated, unwilling to leave Zhao Yan behind, when suddenly a soft hand slapped Pei Sa on the back, causing him to stumble back two steps and collide with the palace wall. His face turned pale immediately.

Liu Baiwei quickly stopped his punch upon seeing who it was, but Xu Maojun, terrified out of his mind, was still swinging punches wildly, trying to defend himself.

The next moment, Zhao Yan watched helplessly as Xu Maojun was lifted off the ground and flew through the air in a graceful arc, landing with a loud splash into a shallow water basin by the palace wall.

Wenren Lin had not even lifted a finger. No one could see how Xu Maojun was thrown, as if he had been tossed by an invisible force.

“Let Xu Bianxiu wake up in the water for a bit,” Wenren Lin said casually, standing with his hands behind his back. His voice was light, but everyone around immediately fell silent.

Zhao Xuan, who had always been timid, turned pale, stumbling back a step. A folded piece of writing paper fell from her sleeve, caught by the wind, and fluttered to the ground, landing at Zhao Yan’s feet.

Sensing Wenren Lin’s almost imperceptible gaze on her, Zhao Yan suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. She lowered her head, bent down, and picked up the paper that had fallen.

It was a well-written piece of text, clearly written by Zhao Xuan herself.

Zhao Yan didn’t think much of it at first. She just folded the paper back and handed it to Zhao Xuan, saying, “Fourth Sister, here.”

“Thank… thank you, Crown Princess,” Zhao Xuan stammered, her voice faint like a mosquito’s hum. She trembled as she took the paper, quickly tucking it into her sleeve.

By the time Zhao Yan looked up again, Wenren Lin had already walked away, seemingly heading in the direction of the palace banquet.

Zhao Yan paused for a moment, then remembered the main issue at hand. She signaled the palace servants to help Xu Maojun, who was still flailing in the water, out of the basin and take him to change clothes. She instructed everyone present to keep their mouths shut.

Xu Maojun, shaken and disoriented, left the scene with his head hung low. Zhao Xuan followed closely behind him, walking a few steps before looking back at Pèi Sà with a worried glance.

Her pale lips moved slightly, but in the end, she didn’t say anything, lowering her head and walking away.

Zhao Yan turned to Pei Sa, who was clutching his chest and frowning in pain. She asked sternly, “Now, can the Young Master tell me why you were fighting with Xu Maojun?”

Pei Sa, unwilling to explain at first, finally turned his head away and said, “That Xu guy was joking with his colleagues, comparing Fourth Princess to a courtesan.”

Zhao Yan immediately understood. Xu Maojun, who looked down on the humble and awkward Fourth Princess, probably took advantage of her hearing impairment and made a few distasteful remarks to his companions.

He deserved the beating.

Pei Sa seemed to realize that his actions might implicate the Crown Prince, so he softened his tone: “Your Highness need not worry. I was careful with my strikes, targeting only places where they wouldn’t leave any marks. If His Majesty inquires, I will take full responsibility myself.”

Such “restraint”!

Zhao Yan nearly couldn’t suppress her laughter.

“Alright,” she said, holding back a smile. “Though you did this to defend the princess’s dignity, it was still a bit rash. You’ll be punished to reflect on it by facing the wall when you return.”

She then looked toward Li Fu. “Take the Young Master to see the Imperial doctor.”

After all, Wenren Lin was capable of slamming an opponent so hard that they bled from being embedded into a wall. Even with his strike reduced, Pei Sa would still feel the effects.

“Thank you, Your Highness, for your leniency.”

Pei Sa solemnly cupped his hands in gratitude and left, turning to depart.

Liu Ying, still worried, whispered, “Shouldn’t you inform Her Majesty, Your Highness? What if Xu Bianxiu goes to the Emperor and complains…?”

“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare,” Liu Baiwei snorted. “That guy can’t even control his mouth. How could he possibly have the face to complain about the Crown Princess?”

As night fell, lights sparkled across the city, and the stars shimmered, flowing towards the earth.

Upon entering Ziyun Pavilion, Zhao Yan quickly noticed that there was an extra seat placed to the left of her dining table.

There was only one person in the entire Da Xuan who could sit next to the Emperor, higher in rank than the Crown Prince, and that was none other than Wenren Lin.

But since he hadn’t yet taken his seat, Zhao Yan settled down casually and focused on the purple jade grapes before her.

During the banquet, Xu Maojun, as expected, did not dare to stir up trouble with the Emperor. After the feast began, he stood, paid his respects, and presented the “qingci” (a formal written work) he had composed.

The eunuch in front of the Emperor received the piece and, upon the Emperor’s nod, read it aloud. The elaborate, refined language in the work was strikingly impressive.

But Liu Baiwei sneered. Scholars often had an inherent pride, and he looked down on such sycophantic attempts to win favor with flattery and grandiose words.

However, Zhao Yan began to feel something was off as she listened. The “qingci” seemed eerily familiar to her.

Especially the line, “From the sky to control the auspicious clouds, the Dao aligns and all things prosper,” which caught her attention. Her eyes lit up as she instinctively recalled the piece of paper that had fallen from Fourth Sister Zhao Xuan’s sleeve.

Why was Xu Maojun’s “qingci” exactly the same as the one Fourth Sister held in her hand?

Who really wrote this “qingci”?

Zhao Yan vaguely remembered that Xu Maojun had been an unknown figure before this year’s imperial exams, but after the exams, he had risen to fame rapidly.

Coincidentally, after the imperial exams, Zhao Xuan had also been betrothed to Xu Maojun…

A thought began to form in her mind. She subtly signaled Liu Ying to approach and whispered, “Go tell Liu Baiwei to find a way to test Xu Maojun.”

Liu Ying took her orders and quietly slipped away.

Just as she had arranged things, the palace eunuchs outside sang their formal greetings, announcing the late arrival of the Duke of Su. Immediately, the lively chatter in the hall quieted down.

The palace maids brought out exquisite dishes, alongside a cup of wine served in a glass goblet with a pomegranate-red hue.

The familiar crimson official robes slowly approached, and Zhao Yan, trying to hide her discomfort, lowered her gaze. Mistaking the wine for grape wine, she quickly drank it without thinking…

The taste was wrong—slightly fishy and sour.

Frowning, Zhao Yan wondered if something impure had been mixed into the wine when she heard her father, the Emperor, say from his seat, “I happened to obtain some fresh deer blood today, so I mixed it with light wine for everyone to enjoy!”

Deer… deer blood wine?

Zhao Yan froze, feeling a sudden heat rise within her, as the warmth from the alcohol spread through her body, slowly burning inside.

Wenren Lin took his seat and seemed to sense her unease. His dark eyes silently turned toward her.

Previous

Next