You don’t have any sort of relationship with Princess Hanwu as well, do you?

Late at night, the Quiet Study in the Prince Jun’s Residence

Hui Yue’er was poring over the palace regulations, studying the clauses within. It seemed that there was no such thing as being banished from the imperial palace for a mistake; the punishments were either execution or confinement to the Cold Palace. Yue’er sighed and remarked, “The imperial palace is truly no place for a living soul!” If her words were overheard by someone with ulterior motives, it would spell trouble, for to insult the imperial family was a crime punishable by the extermination of one’s entire clan.

Zhao Chengxian quickly reminded her, “Little Crescent, you must be careful with your words and actions in the palace. When speaking to anyone, always keep your wits about you. Never say the palace isn’t fit for people. If someone twists your words, you’re doomed. Do you understand?” People often spoke of the dangers of the martial world, but in truth, none were more perilous than the inner court.

Hui Yue’er replied offhandedly, “I know, I know, I have a sense of propriety!” It wasn’t that she distrusted Zhao Chengxian; rather, she still believed in the phrase from the Three Character Classic: “Human nature is inherently good.” Humanity, at its core, ought to be kind. Yue’er picked up the booklet of palace rules written by Princess Hanwu and compared the handwriting to Zhao Chengxian’s. They were nearly identical. Then she recalled what Qiqi had said: that Princess Hanwu had come to Prince Jun’s Residence the night before her arranged marriage and left in tears. It must have something to do with Zhao Chengxian. She looked at him and asked, “Qiqi said Princess Hanwu came here the night before her marriage. Did she come to see you?” Direct as ever, Yue’er’s personality was forthright; with friends, she never beat around the bush.

Zhao Chengxian didn’t answer her directly, instead asking, “Do you really want to know?” His expression was one of “I just won’t tell you,” looking at Hui Yue’er. Zhao Chengxian was a playful young man, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was earnest.

Yue’er exclaimed, “You don’t have some sort of relationship with Princess Hanwu, do you? Looks like someone isn’t just a bookworm, but also a deceiver of innocent maidens!” She forgot that he was helping her, yet dared to say such things about him. Wasn’t she afraid he’d abandon her? Was this really the meticulous female escort leader? Had her intelligence begun to deteriorate from lack of business?

Zhao Chengxian slammed down his pen in annoyance and glared at Yue’er. “Is that how you see me? With what you said, I sound like a swindler, cheating women out of their affections and fortunes. Don’t forget, right now this so-called swindler is helping you!” The girl’s talent for provoking others was growing! But Zhao Chengxian was merely irritated, not yet unwilling to help Hui Yue’er.

Only then did Yue’er realize she’d misspoken. She immediately put on a smile and said, “What I meant was that Prince Jun, you are charming and handsome, and any girl would fall for you!” It nearly made her gag to say such things for the first time.

Zhao Chengxian saw Yue’er’s apologetic smile and his anger dissipated, though he pretended to remain upset and asked, “I’m so attractive—have you fallen for me?” He purposely moved closer to Yue’er; their proximity was so intimate that each could feel the other’s breath.

Yue’er blushed and awkwardly moved away, not answering directly, but whispered, “I am a girl too, after all.” She had just said that every girl would be moved by Zhao Chengxian; this was her answer. Who would have thought that the fearless female escort leader could reveal such a delicate side? Zhao Chengxian was very pleased, smiling at Hui Yue’er. Yue’er urged, “Hurry up and write, dawn is approaching. If I’m caught leaving the palace without permission, this trip will have been in vain!” Leaving the palace without permission was equally punishable by death—a bitter reality of the inner court.

Zhao Chengxian laughed, picked up his pen again, and wrote as he spoke, “Princess Hanwu and I grew up together. I was the Emperor’s companion since childhood; back then, he was still the Crown Prince, and Princess Hanwu was his elder sister. We met often. When she was little, her writing was always poor, so the then Noble Consort, now the Empress Dowager, asked me to teach her. She must have deliberately imitated my handwriting, which is why hers is identical to mine!” He glanced at Hui Yue’er, who was listening intently, and continued, “I always saw her as a sister, never imagined she would have feelings for me. That night, she came to Prince Jun’s Residence and asked me to marry her, or else she’d have to wed the ruler of Chechi. But I can’t marry her. I could marry someone I have no feelings for, but not someone as close as a sister. Besides, I always thought the Empress Dowager wouldn’t let her marry into Chechi, yet the next day the Emperor issued the marriage decree. Do you think I ruined her?” He felt that since he did not love Princess Hanwu, he ought not marry her.

Hui Yue’er smiled gently and said, “I don’t know. Perhaps you did. But you can’t be sure that marrying into Chechi means she won’t be happy. Maybe the ruler of Chechi is her true destined one. If she marries you, her misfortune is certain, because you don’t love her. But marrying into Chechi gives her at least a fifty percent chance at happiness, right?” Zhao Chengxian was moved, nodding at Yue’er; their mutual understanding needed no words. Yue’er made a funny face and laughed.

Ladies, gentlemen, the old, the young, and those neither old nor young—quick, shower me with medals, red envelopes, and gifts! Don’t hold back; let the storm rage all the more fiercely!