Shen Qingli sat poised in her palanquin, offering no immediate response. After a long moment, as the palanquin swayed gently, she lifted a corner of the curtain. "You will know when we arrive."
Seconds later, she watched as the palanquin came to a stop before the gates of the Prince Regent's Mansion.
Wen Shiqing’s heart skipped a beat, a sense of unease intensifying.
Shen Qingli stepped out of the palanquin with practiced grace. Her expression remained serene; with a slight nod, she began to walk toward the mansion.
"Your Royal Highness," Wen Shiqing stammered, trailing behind her, "is it really necessary for me to enter and disturb Prince Jiu?"
"Just keep up."
Wen Shiqing glanced at the main gate, her nerves frazzled. She looked at the Eldest Princess striding ahead and, bracing herself, followed her inside.
As soon as she stepped into the mansion, Wen Shiqing could not help but gasp inwardly. It was every bit the residence one would expect under the shadow of the Imperial City—the courtyards were vast, with pavilions and towers arranged in exquisite, ornate patterns. Artificial mountains of strange stone stood tall, and clear streams trickled through the grounds.
It was nothing like her own simple three-courtyard home.
Following Shen Qingli deeper into the grounds, they passed through a moon gate and arrived before a spacious main hall. The vermillion doors were thrown wide open. Two guards stood at the entrance, clad in armor and clutching long spears. They stood as straight as pines, their faces cold, exuding a sharp, murderous aura.
Shen Qingli stepped into the hall with steady strides, and Wen Shiqing, taking a deep breath, followed close behind.
They navigated through a series of winding paths after leaving the hall, eventually reaching the back courtyard. Wen Shiqing kept her head bowed, only occasionally darting her eyes upward to observe the "mansion." In the distance, near the edge of a pond, she saw a man lounging indolently.
He had his hands pillowed behind his head and was dressed in a moon-white silk robe, the fabric fluttering softly in the breeze. Beside him, on a low table, sat a pot of wine.
Seeing this, Shen Qingli frowned slightly and gave a soft cough.
The man ignored her, maintaining his lazy posture. Slowly, he reached out, poured himself a cup of wine, and drained it in one gulp before finally pulling himself into a sitting position.
As he turned, Wen Shiqing caught sight of his face. His sword-like brows slanted toward his temples, and his eyes were long and narrow, carrying a hint of unbridled ease. He had a high nose bridge and thin lips, which were curled into a faint, elusive smile.
He was handsome and regal—truly a face of immense authority. And it was... somewhat familiar.
Before Wen Shiqing could collect her thoughts, she heard Shen Qingli call out, "Imperial Uncle, why are you drinking alone again?"
*Imperial Uncle? The Prince Regent?*
He was the man who held the court in the palm of his hand, the one who sat beside the throne, the awe-inspiring Prince Regent?
Though her mind was still reeling in shock, her body reacted instinctively. Wen Shiqing panicked and smoothed her robes. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. Her voice trembled as she bowed respectfully: "Your subject, Wen Shiqing, pays respects to Prince Jiu."
She kept her forehead pressed firmly against the ground, not daring to move an inch.
*What is this Eldest Princess playing at?* she wondered. *Is she bringing me here to have the Prince Regent back me up? If she had just said so earlier, I—I would have done whatever she wanted!*
A smile remained on the Prince Regent’s lips. He swept his gaze over Wen Shiqing with a touch of scrutiny, though the sharp intensity he displayed in court had vanished. His voice was gentle: "Rise. No need for such ceremony."
"Imperial Uncle, stop drinking," Shen Qingli said, unwilling to watch any longer. She snatched the wine pot from his hand.
The movement was so swift that it startled Wen Shiqing, who feared the Prince would be offended.
Shen Heting, however, was not annoyed. He waved his hand dismissively and stood up. He raised his gaze, landing once more on Wen Shiqing, and after looking her over with interest, he asked, "Qingli, why have you brought someone with you today? Is this the imperial consort you’ve chosen? He looks a bit frail."
"He is not a consort. This is the New Top Scholar, Wen Shiqing." Shen Qingli glanced at Wen Shiqing, unsure of how to proceed. "I brought him here because..."
"The New Top Scholar?" Shen Heting walked over. He remembered that he had personally selected this year's Top Scholar. He recalled that the youth was quite a beauty.
As Shen Heting stepped closer, Wen Shiqing felt the air around her grow heavy. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she buried her head even lower, wishing she could hide herself entirely.
A moment later, a pair of finely crafted white boots appeared in her line of sight, followed by the faint scent of wine. The familiar, authoritative voice echoed in her ears: "Look up."
It was true—without even looking at his face, the sheer pressure of his presence and the tone of his voice reminded her instantly of the morning court sessions. How could she have been so blind as to not recognize him at first glance? Then again, it was hardly her fault; she had only ever stolen quick glances at him from behind a sea of official caps.
Wen Shiqing drew a deep breath, suppressed her inner panic, and slowly lifted her head, meeting Shen Heting's gaze with timid eyes.
Looking at the stunning face before him, Shen Heting felt a slight stirring in his heart. The youth was even more breathtaking than the portrait in the files.
Shen Heting curled his lips in a half-smile. "New Top Scholar Wen Shiqing. I recall your post is..."
"Reporting to Prince Jiu, it is Palace Censor," Wen Shiqing replied, a sycophantic smile forming on her face instinctively.
She shouldn't have smiled—her peach-blossom eyes curved, bright and glistening, and the tear mole at the corner of her eye suddenly looked delicate and charming. For some reason, seeing that smile made Shen Heting’s mood lighten.
*Palace Censor. No wonder I haven’t seen him.*
"Speak, what did you bring him to me for?" This was not addressed to Wen Shiqing. Shen Qingli walked over, her mouth opening, but she did not know how to continue. She truly did not want to state in front of others that a man was "incompetent," as it was too humiliating.
She gave a small cough. "Imperial Uncle, don't you have the best physicians here?"
The word "physicians" struck Wen Shiqing like a bolt of lightning, piercing her heart. She jerked her head up, catching her breath, her heart racing wildly in her chest.
Shen Qingli continued, "I want to have that physician examine this Lord Wen. His health... well, it is not... well, you see..."
She stuttered and hesitated, but Wen Shiqing visibly swayed, all the blood draining from her face in an instant!
*What?*
*No!*
*The best, most skilled physician?*
*Wouldn't he know she was a woman the moment he checked her pulse?*
*I beg your pardon, Your Royal Highness! Does your home happen to be by the seaside, that you feel the need to manage everything from the heavens to the earth to—to someone's private bodily functions? Could you have at least asked me if I wanted to be treated? This isn't the Eldest Princess showing care; this is a one-way ticket to the executioner's block!*
Shen Heting listened intently. "Qingli, take your time. What exactly is the matter?"
"Oh, Imperial Uncle, don't ask. I'm sure men don't want others to know about such things. In any case, I need to borrow your physician."
The words were ambiguous. Although she did not explicitly state what was wrong with Wen Shiqing, it sounded as if she had implied everything.
Shen Heting caught her meaning. He raised an eyebrow, subconsciously following Shen Qingli’s lead, his gaze sweeping over Wen Shiqing’s lower half without a trace.
With a sudden thud, Wen Shiqing’s knees went weak, and she collapsed to the ground.