When Wu Ciyun left the Capital years ago, she was utterly destitute.
Many waited to watch her fall, mocking her behind her back.
Now, after four years, she returned to the Capital under the banner of a war hero, and not a few people started to seek her favor.
Yet Wu Ciyun claimed ill health to the outside world, refusing all guests during the holidays, blocking all those who tried to visit her.
Seeing her so obedient, Prince Rui’s heart settled a little.
In private, he rewarded Wu Ciyun with rare medicinal herbs, and even ordered the Imperial Physician to personally attend to her, showing how much he valued his subject.
That day, although Wu Ciyun had gently refused to help him ascend the throne, Prince Rui did not take offense.
Supporting the Young Emperor was, first, the wish of the old ministers, and second, one of the conditions for the Liang Dynasty’s willingness to turn against their own.
Prince Rui was in his prime now.
If he truly claimed the throne, he would surely consolidate power and eliminate dissent.
The old ministers did not want to lose their authority, nor did the Liang Dynasty wish to see the Sheng Dynasty produce a diligent and wise monarch.
Therefore, choosing a young ruler was the best choice.
But Prince Rui did not care at all. Even if he was not the rightful Emperor, as Regent he still held the power to govern.
For now, he endured and kept a low profile.
In a few years, when the court stabilized, he could announce that the little Emperor had died, ascend the throne himself, and by then, who could object?
Wu Ciyun was an excellent Knife, but not irreplaceable.
He was never short of Knives or Swords—whether this Knife could be used by him or not, he did not care, as long as it did not fall into someone else’s hands.
As things stood, Wu Ciyun was still honestly resting in her own scabbard.
After New Year’s Eve, it had snowed on and off for several days.
Only today did the skies clear at last.
The servants carefully swept the snow from under the corridor.
A pageboy hurried toward the study, spotting A Ming standing outside, and quickly asked, “Brother A Ming, is Master inside?”
“Master is inside, helping the young masters with their calligraphy.”
A Ming glanced down at what the pageboy was holding and frowned, “Another letter delivered?”
The pageboy nodded, answering honestly, “Just now a young lady in a cloak came by, dropped this off, and left.”
Ever since Wu Ciyun returned to the Capital, someone delivered letters to the residence every few days, always leaving them at the door and slipping away.
The first couple of times, Wu Ciyun would open and read them.
Later, she could not even be bothered and ordered them burned immediately.
“I told you already, if any more letters like this come, just burn them. No need to report to Master.”
“I was going to burn it, but this time there was something else with it.”
The pageboy handed over a bundle wrapped in red cloth to A Ming.
A Ming took a look: inside were two pearls as large as longan fruit, perfectly round and flawless, with a silky luster under the light.
Even someone with no eye for treasure could tell they were worth a fortune.
“Brother A Ming, I’ve never seen such large pearls before.”
The young pageboy, unable to keep secrets, asked curiously, “Are these worth hundreds of taels?”
“These are Frost Pearls from the Pu Luo Sea. They can only be harvested by diving on Frost’s Descent.”
A hoarse voice spoke up from behind.
A Ming turned instinctively and saw Jia Weizhen, who had somehow approached without notice, his greedy gaze fixed on the pearls.
He sighed, “Pearls of this size—even for thousands of taels, you probably couldn’t buy them.”
A Ming immediately covered them with the red cloth and asked coldly, “What do you want?”
Jia Weizhen had been staying in the residence for some days.
Though less timid than before, he was still cautious.
Seeing A Ming’s displeasure, he quickly handed over the wooden box in his hands with a fawning smile, “This is what Master requested, please deliver it for me.”
Wu Ciyun had not checked Wu Mingzhu and Wu Liangyu’s studies for nearly a month.
Ever since the Ning Prefecture incident, she had been busy cleaning up the aftermath, with no time to spare.
Now, on checking, she found that in just a month, the two siblings had forgotten nearly everything they had read.
“It’s one thing not to recite the books, but now even your handwriting looks like chicken scratch.”
Wu Ciyun flipped through their calligraphy, her tone cold, “Rewrite it. If you don’t finish, no supper tonight.”
Wu Liangyu and Wu Mingzhu answered pitifully, then obediently sat back down to start again.
Rong Tan seemed about to speak but hesitated.
He wanted to plead on their behalf, but seeing Wu Ciyun’s icy expression, he dared not say more and quietly stayed by her side to grind ink.
Wu Ciyun pushed the siblings to their calligraphy, but she herself was not idle.
She picked up a letter from the table, thought for a moment, then quickly filled half a page, the writing wild and sharp, very unlike her usual style.
When A Ming entered the study, seeing Wu Ciyun busy, he dared not disturb her and handed everything to Rong Tan.
“What’s that you’re holding?”
Rong Tan was momentarily dazed by the pair of pearls in the red cloth.
Wu Ciyun’s voice pulled him back to his senses.
“The wooden box is from Jia Weizhen. The letter and the pearls… must have been delivered by the usual sender.”
Wu Ciyun’s face remained calm.
She opened the wooden box, took out the exquisitely carved jade seal, dipped it in cinnabar ink, and stamped it directly onto the freshly written letter.
Jia Weizhen’s counterfeiting skills were indeed impressive.
By copying the seal on the letter, he could carve an exact replica of Prince Rui’s private stamp, down to the wear and tear.
She carefully compared it to a secret letter from Prince Rui—the handwriting, the seal, even the paper were indistinguishable. No matter how closely one looked, there was no flaw.
Wu Ciyun was quite satisfied.
She set the letter aside, rubbed her aching temples, and casually asked, “What did the letter say?”
Rong Tan opened it and scanned the contents.
His expression stiffened.
After a moment’s silence, he handed the letter to Wu Ciyun.
There was just a single line written: [Once, you gifted me twin pearls; the pearls are as radiant as they were then. Has your heart remained unchanged?]
Wu Ciyun was silent for a while, then let go, allowing the letter to fall into the brazier, where it turned to ash in an instant.
After a long pause, she spoke softly, “When it gets dark, quietly have someone open the back corner gate.”
Rong Tan agreed. Wu Mingzhu and Wu Liangyu eyed the two adults curiously.
When the Imperial Doctor came to check Wu Ciyun’s pulse, Wu Mingzhu quietly tugged Rong Tan’s sleeve.
“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?”
Rong Tan stealthily handed over some pastries, whispering, “Eat a little to tide you over.”
Wu Mingzhu and Wu Liangyu immediately stuffed pastries into their mouths, mumbling, “Housekeeper Rong, is someone coming to visit?”
“Mm, maybe. It should be an honored guest…”
Rong Tan had secretly investigated—the sender was none other than Princess Zhaoning, Xiao Wan, who had nearly married Wu Ciyun once.
Xiao Wan was deeply obsessed with Wu Ciyun, having fallen for her at first sight.
The imperial marriage was called off, so she begged the King of Sheng to let Wu Ciyun be her Teacher.
When the Wu family fell, she seized the chance, nearly dragging Wu Ciyun back as her male concubine. Only Wu Ciyun’s threat of suicide stopped her.
In Yuan Cheng Fifteen, the year after Wu Ciyun left the Capital, Xiao Wan married Grand Preceptor Zhao’s only son, Zhao Xiang.
Last year, she gave birth; just ten days after becoming a mother, Zhao Xiang died suddenly.
Though now a widow, it was clear Xiao Wan still missed Wu Ciyun.
Rong Tan felt uncomfortable, but knew he had no right to judge.
If Wu Ciyun were a member of the Liang Imperial Clan, in such a situation, he himself could not say he would act any better than Xiao Wan.
Late at night, following Wu Ciyun’s instructions, he quietly opened the corner gate.
Within half a quarter of an hour, two shadowy figures slipped in through the gate, following the servant toward Wu Ciyun’s East Wing Room.
Wu Ciyun was reclining on the soft couch, resting with her eyes closed, when she heard the door creak open.
Before she could react, someone suddenly flung herself into her arms.
“Teacher…”
Xiao Wan’s eyes brimmed with tears, her face mournful.
She collapsed onto Wu Ciyun, sobbing, “You’re finally willing to see me. I waited for so long. You don’t know how much I’ve suffered…”
The maid who came with Xiao Wan stood at the door holding a child, her face rigid at the sight.
She didn’t know whether to come in or leave, so she just looked down and quietly played with the baby.
“Miss Liu, take Qi Brother and wait outside.”
Xiao Wan seemed to realize there were others present.
She turned and instructed the maid to leave with the child. Miss Liu nodded softly, gave Wu Ciyun a hesitant glance, then silently withdrew.
“Princess, please get up. This isn’t proper.”
Wu Ciyun struggled to push Xiao Wan away.
Caught off guard, Xiao Wan fell onto a pillow, staring blankly at Wu Ciyun.
Seeing her still so cold and distant, the sorrow in her face turned to a trace of resentment.
Wu Ciyun was always like this.
Forever distant, forever seeing her only as a Princess, never offering a single gentle word.
Xiao Wan wiped away her tears.
Her face became utterly calm, eyes fixed on Wu Ciyun.
She slowly undid the dark blue cloak embroidered with cloud patterns.
Tonight she wore a bright red brocade gown, golden threads forming phoenixes that seemed ready to soar under the candlelight.
“Teacher, do I look beautiful?”
Xiao Wan smiled radiantly, speaking slowly, “To uphold the rites, I specially chose this outfit—to spend the bridal night with you.”