Chapter 74: Visit

The morning rain had just ceased, leaving the steps before the hall as if washed, enveloped in a chilly, damp air.

As expected, Huo Zhenzhen arrived on time. Before she even entered the hall, her clear, crisp laughter rang out: “Prince Brother, good news! Mother and Father have agreed to let me stay in the capital until after the New Year!”

With that, she entered the study, shedding her rain-protective cloak with the help of a palace maid. She let out a curious “Oh?” and leaned closer.

“What’s Prince Brother looking at? Oh, Yan Shusheng’s *Preface to the Lakeside Farewell*. Is there a problem with it?”

Among the confiscated wealth from the corrupt Jiang family two days prior was an authentic calligraphy piece by the former dynasty’s Yan Shusheng, which Zhao Yan had temporarily borrowed.

Frowning in thought, she gazed at the elegant calligraphy spread on the desk. “I chanced upon this piece and intended to present it to Father Emperor for his enjoyment, but I’m worried it might be a fake and risk the crime of deceiving the emperor. Princess, come take a look for me.”

Huo Zhenzhen was adept at discerning the hues of rouge and powder but far less skilled in literary arts, and she immediately found herself stumped.

“It… should be real, right?”

“But the color of the paper and ink seems off.”

“Hmm, the ink does look a bit faint. But judging by the brushstrokes and the inscribed seals, it doesn’t seem fake.”

“Really? I’m not convinced. It would be great if an expert could help authenticate it.”

Huo Zhenzhen debated with Zhao Yan for a while, then suggested, “Tomorrow at the imperial lecture, Prince Brother can have those old scholars from the Hanlin Academy take a look.”

Her voice always had a playful, upbeat lilt at the end of her sentences.

Zhao Yan recalled how, as children, she used to tease Huo Zhenzhen, calling her a “spoiled brat,” which would make Huo Zhenzhen clench her fists and stomp in frustration. Zhao Yan couldn’t help but chuckle.

Huo Zhenzhen glanced over, and Zhao Yan quickly suppressed her smile, feigning difficulty. “Since it’s meant for Father Emperor, we shouldn’t make too much of a fuss.”

Huo Zhenzhen nodded in agreement, tilting her head to study the calligraphy for a long while before exclaiming, “Oh! Doesn’t Marquis Ningyang know a lot about calligraphy and painting? Let’s go ask him.”

This was exactly what Zhao Yan had been waiting for.

“But as the Crown Prince, I can’t just leave the palace…”

“That’s easy! Change into plain clothes and sneak onto my carriage. The guards won’t dare inspect it too closely.”

Huo Zhenzhen patted her chest confidently, then slumped her shoulders and muttered, “But you’ll need to bring a few skilled guards for protection.”

After all, if anything happened to the Crown Prince outside the palace, she’d be in big trouble.

“Alright, of course.”

Zhao Yan nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Princess.”

The calligraphy was merely a pretext. Without Huo Zhenzhen, Zhao Yan could have found another way to leave the palace. But visiting her uncle alone over a single piece of calligraphy would seem abrupt and cumbersome. With Huo Zhenzhen, it was a different matter entirely.

The lively princess, always the center of attention and closely tied to the Crown Prince, could easily whisk someone out of the palace without raising suspicion.

Outside Marquis Ningyang’s residence, several young scholar-like men gathered, reciting poetry with fervor. As the mansion’s gate opened, they eagerly presented their works.

Zhao Yan had heard that her uncle, dubbed the “Wei Bole” (a legendary talent scout), had a keen eye for talent and had recommended many to the court. As a result, struggling scholars who had failed the imperial exams often lingered around the mansion, hoping to catch his attention.

Zhao Yan, her face concealed by a hooded cloak, followed Huo Zhenzhen out of the carriage.

The steward of the Ningyang Marquis residence spotted the palace token at Huo Zhenzhen’s waist and, startled, bowed deeply. “Please, honored guests, take a seat inside! The Marquis and his wife are composing music in the Xingzhi Pavilion. Allow me to announce your arrival.”

“We’ve come uninvited, so there’s no need to disturb the Marquis’s refined pursuits.”

From the corridor came the faint, elegant sound of a zither. Zhao Yan took the calligraphy scroll from her attendant, Li Fu, and walked with Huo Zhenzhen toward the source of the music.

Before the Xingzhi Pavilion, phoenix tree leaves fell gently, and dark chrysanthemums drooped like silk threads along the walls.

Rong Fuyue, dressed in a moon-white gown, sat gracefully, her delicate hands playing the zither, her notes clear and ethereal, like a celestial maiden under the moonlight. Wei Yan, in a scholar’s robe, stood beside her, accompanying her with a jade flute, his refined and elegant demeanor like a painting come to life.

The zither and flute harmonized, their melody flowing like heavenly music, soothing the soul. Zhao Yan signaled her entourage to tread lightly, quietly appreciating the performance.

When the piece ended, the lingering notes seemed to coax nearby birds into chirping from the branches.

Wei Yan, noticing Zhao Yan and her group, was slightly surprised. He helped his wife to her feet, and they both bowed. “Your Highness.”

“No need for formalities, Uncle and Aunt.”

Zhao Yan returned the gesture. “When I entered, I saw many scholars outside presenting their poetry. Uncle even provides them with seats and tea, treating them almost like retainers.”

“Your Highness flatters me. When I was young, I faced rejection while seeking patronage. I wouldn’t want them to suffer the same.”

Wei Yan gestured for Zhao Yan to sit inside, smiling warmly. “What brings Your Highness to my humble abode?”

Before Zhao Yan could speak, Huo Zhenzhen chimed in eagerly, “Brother Prince acquired a piece by Yan Shusheng and isn’t sure if it’s authentic. We debated for ages but couldn’t decide, so we came to ask Marquis Ningyang for help.”

“I see.”

Wei Yan said modestly, “If Your Highness needed calligraphy appraised, you could have summoned me to the palace. How could I trouble you to come here?”

“No trouble at all. I also wanted to visit Uncle.”

Zhao Yan smiled faintly, carefully retrieving the scroll from its brocade box and unrolling it on the desk.

Wei Yan leaned in to examine the seals and inscriptions, elegantly lifting his sleeve to rub the ink on the paper with his fingertips.

Huo Zhenzhen, resting her cheek on her hand, waited for a while before asking impatiently, “So, is it real or fake?”

Wei Yan smiled and beckoned his wife to take a look.

“Who’s right, me or Prince Brother?” Huo Zhenzhen pressed.

Rong Fuyue studied it for a long time before smiling. “This piece is neither entirely fake nor entirely authentic. Your Highness and the Princess are essentially tied.”

As expected, Zhao Yan showed little surprise.

Huo Zhenzhen, however, widened her eyes. “Why?”

Wei Yan pointed to the mounting of the scroll, his fingers grazing the edge of the rice paper. “This is ‘double-layered’ rice paper. If carefully separated, a single authentic calligraphy can be split into two identical layers—one with slightly darker ink, the other lighter. Your Highness’s piece is the lighter layer.”

“So, this is indeed by Yan Shusheng, but it’s just one layer peeled from the original?”

“Exactly.”

Zhao Yan nodded, feigning realization. “Uncle’s discernment is impressive. I’ve learned something today.”

Wei Yan humbly demurred.

After a moment, he glanced at Zhao Yan and recalled something. “Last year, when Your Highness visited, you seemed to have left behind a jade pendant. I forgot about it while I was away with my wife for her recuperation. Since you’re here, I’ll return it to its rightful owner.”

“Really?”

Zhao Yan looked up, surprised. A jade pendant left by her brother?

Wei Yan nodded. “Please wait a moment, Your Highness. I’ll fetch it.”

The Xingzhi Pavilion, built by Wei Yan for his wife to compose music and read, was elegantly furnished. A chaise lounge sat by the window, a desk with ink and brushes stood behind a screen, and a priceless antique zither rested nearby. Three walls were lined with bookshelves, the air filled with the mingled scents of ink and incense.

Outside was a tea room with a small stove, tea utensils, a long table, and cushioned seats.

Rong Fuyue meticulously prepared two cups of clear, amber tea for Zhao Yan and Huo Zhenzhen to savor.

Holding her teacup, Zhao Yan asked, “Is Aunt feeling better?”

Rong Fuyue, gentle as an orchid, replied softly, “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m much improved this year.”

“Your complexion looks very healthy too.”

Zhao Yan smiled, then asked curiously, “I’ve been frail since childhood, and no amount of medicine has helped. What medicine does Aunt take, and where does it come from? If it’s so effective, I’d like to try a different prescription.”

Rong Fuyue chuckled. “Your Highness, you can’t just take medicine recklessly.”

“True, it might not suit me.”

Zhao Yan tilted her head, expertly feigning illness with a light cough.

Perhaps out of empathy for a fellow sufferer, Rong Fuyue softened. “My medicine was obtained by the Marquis from a wandering Taoist. If Your Highness wishes, you can ask him later.”

Zhao Yan was momentarily stunned.

Her uncle had clearly acquired the medicine from the Shenguang Sect. Why lie to his wife about a wandering Taoist?

Probing further would seem too deliberate. Zhao Yan shook her head. “I was joking. Mother wouldn’t trust outsiders with my condition.”

She added, “Was it a pill from the Taoist?”

“Yes,” Rong Fuyue replied.

“It must be bitter, right?”

“Not too bitter. It has a rather pleasant fragrance.”

Zhao Yan wanted to see the pill but was interrupted by Rong Fuyue’s concerned voice. “Your Highness, have you heard any news of Princess Changfeng recently?”

Zhao Yan’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from her. I wonder how she’s doing.”

“How could she be? Banished to Huayang, she’s probably too ashamed to contact you.”

Huo Zhenzhen pouted, huffing, “Though I don’t think she did anything terribly wrong back then.”

Zhao Yan was surprised that Huo Zhenzhen would defend her.

Rong Fuyue sighed softly. “Since my heart condition, I’ll likely never have children of my own. If I may be so bold, Your Highness and Princess Changfeng have filled that void for me.”

Her aunt, always gentle, had tempered her emotions due to her severe heart condition, cultivating an air of quiet reserve.

Zhao Yan drifted into fragmented memories, nodding. “Yes, when I was young… my sister and I learned calligraphy and painting under you and Uncle’s guidance.”

Rong Fuyue smiled. “Your Highness was always diligent, practicing for hours. But the little princess was lively, unable to sit still, her eyes darting to the window.”

Hearing her aunt comment on her childhood antics while posing as her brother, Zhao Yan felt a twinge of embarrassment and hid behind her teacup.

Her aunt hadn’t seen her studying in Huayang, where only Zhou Ji never stormed off in frustration.

Sensing the Crown Prince’s affection for his sister, Rong Fuyue added, “Children are naturally playful, but Princess Changfeng has always been bright. Her recent letters show great improvement in her calligraphy…”

A sudden thud interrupted her—a heavy object falling near the bookshelves.

Huo Zhenzhen, standing on tiptoe to browse books, had accidentally knocked over a small wooden box hidden on the shelf.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t see the box up there!”

Huo Zhenzhen apologized, crouching to pick it up, then let out a curious “Oh?” as she examined it.

It was a palm-sized bronze disc, polished like a mirror.

“No harm done.”

Rong Fuyue rose, setting the box aside and gently touching Huo Zhenzhen’s forehead. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Rong Fuyue’s kindness made Huo Zhenzhen blush with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s alright. It was my fault for placing it carelessly.”

Rong Fuyue comforted her, carefully placing the bronze disc back in the box.

Zhao Yan recognized it—a heart-protecting mirror.

Strange. Her uncle wasn’t trained in martial arts, and her aunt came from a scholarly family. Why would they have a warrior’s heart-protecting mirror?

As she pondered, light footsteps approached. Wei Yan smiled. “What are you all discussing?”

“I didn’t take proper care, and an object nearly startled the Princess,” Rong Fuyue explained, placing the box back on the shelf.

The shelf was high, and Rong Fuyue struggled to reach. Wei Yan gently assisted from behind. “Let me, Ah Yue.”

After placing the box, Wei Yan turned and handed Zhao Yan a jade pendant. “Your Highness, is this the one?”

It was a lotus-shaped jade, very similar to the one Zhao Yan’s brother usually wore.

Zhao Yan reached for it but hesitated. Something was off.

Since her banishment to Huayang, her brother had only worn jade pendants carved from Huayang’s water jade. This lotus jade, however, was made of Hetian warm jade.

Zhao Yan faltered. “This… doesn’t seem right…”

“Not yours, Your Highness?”

Wei Yan was also surprised, looking at the jade in his hand.

Rong Fuyue glanced at it. “Perhaps it belongs to another guest.”

Wei Yan nodded, placing the jade on the table. “You’re right. I must have mixed it up. Seeing the lotus pattern, I naturally thought of Your Highness.”

Lunch was prepared, but Zhao Yan didn’t stay.

Leaving the mansion, Zhao Yan pulled up her hood and, before boarding the carriage, asked Huo Zhenzhen, “Princess, do you know if the Rong family was ever close to any military families?”

“Marquis Ningyang’s wife?”

Huo Zhenzhen thought for a moment, then clapped her hands. “I heard Father mention that Lady Rong was once betrothed before marrying the Marquis.”

“To whom?” Zhao Yan asked eagerly.

Huo Zhenzhen frowned, deflating. “I don’t remember. They spoke vaguely, and I didn’t catch it.”

Before Huo Zhenzhen could elaborate, the sound of hooves echoed from the street corner.

Cai Tian, driving the carriage of Duke Su’s mansion, pulled up slowly. A slender, pale hand emerged from the curtain, lifting it slightly.

Zhao Yan knew Wenren Lin was back.

Relieved, she smiled at Huo Zhenzhen. “Princess, you can head back. No need to escort me.”

“No escort? How will you sneak back to the palace?”

“Someone’s here to pick me up.”

With that, Zhao Yan hurried forward and boarded Wenren Lin’s carriage.

**Ningyang Marquis Residence**

Wei Yan stared at the lotus jade in his hand until it slipped from his fingers, shattering into three pieces.

Jade, like a gentleman, even breaks with a soft, restrained sound.

He stepped over the fragments without looking back.

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