Even though it was already expected that the Prince of Qin couldn't escape this calamity, no one anticipated he would take action before the decree was issued. The Crown Prince, dazed from kneeling before the Hall of Heavenly Purity, fainted upon hearing the news. The Emperor had barely managed to get up before collapsing back onto his bed. The original testimonies implicating the Prince of Qin were temporarily suspended. Zhang Taiyan was released from prison because of this, but due to his advanced age, he fell ill in bed soon after his release.

A wave of lament swept through the capital, and even the snow fell heavier than usual.

The snow continued for several days, and the Emperor suddenly looked even more aged on his bed. His gaze was fixed, aimlessly wandering upwards, as if searching for something, or perhaps nothing at all. Kang Fu knelt by his side, old tears streaming down his face, yet not daring to make a sound.

After a long while, the Emperor finally said, "Bring the Crown Prince in." Kang Fu wiped his tears and assented. The Emperor paused for a long time, then said, "No, not the Crown Prince. Call Xin... Xin Yi." He repeated the name as if to himself, "Xin Yi, good Xin Yi, Xin Zhensheng's child. Call him, We want to see him."

Kang Fu, who was turning to leave, froze, then bowed even deeper, saying, "Yes." He exited the hall, closed the door, told a young eunuch to guard it tightly, and then quickly went to where Bai Jiu stood watching the plum blossoms in the snow, saying, "Your Highness, His Majesty wishes to see the Heir."

While transcribing case files, Xin Yi idly wrote a few strokes, then deliberately crossed out the words 'Prince of Qin'. Others saw him sitting upright and focused, unaware that he too was lost in thought, pen in hand.

A commotion arose outside, as if a decree had arrived from the Imperial Palace. Xin Yi was still deep in thought when a pair of boots stopped before his desk. He looked up to see Zuo Kai telling him, "You've been summoned to the palace; you should go."

In that moment, Xin Yi seemed to anticipate something, yet also not.

The paths in the Imperial Palace were slippery, and Xin Yi walked slowly, step by step. The attendant leading the way seemed to have received instructions and dared not rush him. It took about half an hour to reach the Hall of Heavenly Purity.

The Crown Prince had already been sent back to the Eastern Palace. The Hall of Heavenly Purity was so quiet it seemed deserted. This was Xin Yi's first time here. He pulled his chilled hands further into his sleeves before the vermilion pillars, seemingly unfazed by the Emperor's residence. He followed straight inside without even a furrow of his brow.

It was warm inside, with layers upon layers of hanging curtains completely obscuring the bed. Kang Fu lifted the curtains, softly saying to Xin Yi, "Heir, mind your step," while gently announcing to the inside, "Your Majesty, the heir has arrived."

"Mm." The voice from the bed was deep. When the last curtain was lifted, Xin Yi saw the Emperor, aged and frail, leaning on the bed with drooping eyelids, appearing half-asleep. Only upon seeing him did the Emperor show some improvement. "Come closer, We want to look at you."

Xin Yi stepped forward. The Emperor looked at him with a nostalgic sadness. Xin Yi lowered his gaze submissively, allowing the Emperor to scrutinize him. The hall was utterly silent until Kang Fu gently called "Your Majesty," and the Emperor seemed to wake with a start.

"He still looks like Old Sixth." The Emperor's aged hand fumbled over, resting on Xin Yi's head, patting it lightly. "Like Old Sixth."

Xin Yi was as still as a statue. But the Emperor now felt that such a quiet, unspoken child was good. Quiet, then there would be no heart-piercing words, nor any rebellious acts; every movement, obedient and docile.

"In the capital, you aren't much like Old Sixth," the Emperor murmured, as if to himself. "Old Sixth loved to stir up trouble, Old Seven had a glib tongue; the two were inseparable, and got along very well. The Crown Prince was already studying then, staying with his teacher and causing no trouble. Only Old Four followed him, even if he couldn't understand the books. Only Old Five liked to pluck at bitter poems; his brothers didn't play with him, so he'd write poems and scold each of them in turn. He had ink in his belly, but also malice."

The Emperor suddenly stared at Xin Yi, saying chillingly, "But Old Sixth had such nerve; he dared to take in so many people. He had them all stationed in Beiyang to be his soldiers, to fight for him. The Crown Prince advised him, but he wouldn't listen, bringing Old Seven along to fool around." He suddenly looked sorrowful, his voice hoarse as he said, "He was still so young when he was left on the battlefield. That barbaric land of Great Yuan, he stirred things up there, and now he can never come back." He leaned forward, his withered hand gripping Xin Yi's shoulder, his eyes dark and shrewd. "Old Seven was a good child, he raised you for him. But you must not learn from those two, especially not from your father. Do you understand? Do you understand?"

The Emperor's hand gripping his shoulder was painfully tight. Xin Yi looked up, his expression one of humble obedience. But the hand hidden in his sleeve clenched even tighter; for all the disgust and resistance churning in his chest, his brows revealed just as much timidity and fear. Seeing his apprehension, the Emperor's eyes gradually lost their madness, revealing a faint trace of satisfaction and a smile.

"Kang Fu." The Emperor leaned back on the bed, exhausted. "Take the Heir out. It's cold; have him put on a sable cloak before he leaves." Then he added, in a deep voice, "Come again at this time tomorrow. We will speak with you more."

Kang Fu led Xin Yi out. He watched as the young heir turned and exited the hall, the fear on his face completely vanished, not a trace remaining. When his clear, bright eyes were raised again, they were entirely serene, truly possessing a gentle, jade-like quality.

Along the way, he bowed to Xin Yi and guided him, saying, "Heir, this way. His Highness is waiting to return to the manor with you."

Xin Yi's eyes lit up, and his steps quickened. Turning the corner, he indeed saw Bai Jiu, clad in a dark cloak, standing in the snow, having waited for a long time. Xin Yi simply bypassed Kang Fu and ran across the snow towards him.

"My lord." He pursed his lips, revealing a touch of childish grievance.

Bai Jiu, with one hand behind his back, extended a smile upon seeing him, saying, "Like a little puppy sniffing out meat." Xin Yi's face flushed. Bai Jiu's gaze swept over Kang Fu. Kang Fu immediately bowed and retreated far away. Bai Jiu then asked, "Were you wronged?"

Xin Yi tugged at the sable cloak he was wearing, "It's uncomfortable."

Bai Jiu raised a hand and took his, "Then we'll take it off once we're out the door."

Xin Yi saw that one of Bai Jiu's hands was always behind his back and couldn't help but ask curiously, "What are you holding?"

Bai Jiu's narrow eyes held a smile. "Guess."

"Most likely something from the palace." Before Xin Yi's words had fully fallen, the hand came out, holding a branch of exquisite, budding plum blossoms, which he handed to Xin Yi.

Xin Yi suddenly looked left and right. Bai Jiu tapped his forehead. 'Like a thief.'

Xin Yi, plucking at the plum blossom, blushed and asked, "Where did you pick this?"

Bai Jiu, leading him out, said, "Just picked it casually."

From afar, Kang Fu covered his eyes with his sleeve, thinking, 'Oh my, this heir is really easy to coax. Where else in the palace are the plum blossoms blooming better than at the entrance of the Hall of Heavenly Purity? To casually pluck plum blossoms personally planted by His Majesty to coax a child, it's truly vexing.' But he quickly consoled himself, 'He's the Prince of Pingding, who can control him?'

Upon exiting the palace gates, they got into the carriage. Xin Yi took off the sable cloak and put on his own. He held his plum blossom the entire time, afraid of even a single petal falling off. Bai Jiu sat beside him, holding a hand warmer and watching, which made Xin Yi self-conscious.

"People say one gains weight in winter, but you've gotten thinner," Bai Jiu said, reaching out to Xin Yi's waist. "I'll tell the kitchen to stew some soup tonight."

"I wear thick clothes in winter," Xin Yi said, sitting next to him. "If I get any fatter, I'll turn into a ball. Then if I fall, I'll just roll to the bottom, no need to even help me up."

Bai Jiu laughed, tilting his head. "That would certainly save trouble. You could roll around nicely even on the bed." Xin Yi immediately raised a fist to cover his nose, his earlobes turning red. Bai Jiu chuckled aloud, "Shyness is an incurable habit now." He then gently pushed Xin Yi's head to rest on his shoulder. "We have leisure today; let's go home and rest."

Xin Yi leaned against his shoulder, responding, "Home."

The carriage wheels turned swiftly. Bai Jiu's palm stroked his hair. "Were you scared today?"

Xin Yi said, "No."

Bai Jiu smiled again. "You've grown."

Xin Yi smiled faintly, his hand, held by Bai Jiu's, was warm and comfortable, never released.

The Prince of Qin was not buried with the full rites of a Prince, but nor was his funeral as hastily concluded as the Prince of Ping's. The Emperor still granted him a measure of dignity, perhaps to comfort himself, or to mourn the father-son relationship. Suspicion towards the Crown Prince gradually faded amidst the blow of the Prince of Qin's demise. Before anyone could react, Xin Yi suddenly gained the Emperor's favor, able to enter the palace daily to attend to him by his sickbed.

Zhang Taiyan was gravely ill but still managed to hold on in court. No one dared to greatly obstruct the unexpected favoritism shown to the Prince of Yan's heir. The Left Faction was severely damaged, and Bai Jiu naturally remained silent. For a time, he was like a new noble in the capital, sharpened by Zuo Kai, the keen blade of the Court of Judicial Review, revealing ever more cold brilliance. Yet, this person increasingly adopted a gentle and refined demeanor, making him unassailable.

The Crown Prince seemed to be immersed in grief over the Prince of Qin's death, voluntarily ceding control of the Capital Guards Bureau's personnel. However, the Emperor, seeing him so gaunt in just half a month, was touched by their father-son bond and told him to continue his duties, even entrusting him with many state affairs in the capital.

In a blink, the year-end passed, and the weather grew even colder. Only Xin Yi was still investigating the gunpowder case. The Prince of Tang's remarks had made him suspicious, and he grew increasingly wary of the Crown Prince, instinctively feeling that the Prince of Qin's death was not straightforward, and there was more to the case. Zuo Kai also had his own views on this case. Thus, although the case files were officially closed, the two were still secretly investigating. Bai Jiu knew this and let him be.

While things were going smoothly for Xin Yi, Xie Jingsheng was hitting a wall. His departure from the capital was approaching, yet he couldn't find He Anchang at all, unable to even waylay him. Depressed, he practiced daily with Xiao Jin. The two competed in building snowmen in the Prince of Pingding's manor, until a snowball broke Bai Jiu's window, and Chichi chased them out, biting all the way.

Xie Jingsheng shivered in the heavy snow, feeling increasingly desolate. He simply climbed the wall of the He Manor. On the way, he found He Anchang's room, but still didn't see him.

He Anchang's room was neat, orderly, and cold. Xie Jingsheng rolled around on the bed once, feeling his bones creak. He hugged the pillow, lay on the bed, closed his eyes, and indulged in fantasies for a long time. Before he could get comfortable, the room door was pushed open. Xie Jingsheng, still hugging the pillow, rolled under the bed.

He watched a pair of boots as their owner first changed out of his outer robe before the screen, then drank tea at the table, and finally moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

Xie Jingsheng held his breath, staring at the long, straight legs and swallowing. He listened for a long time, only to hear He Anchang sigh deeply and then collapse onto the bed. This bed was so hard it could knock someone out; he winced in pain at the thought of him falling like that. But He Anchang seemed off today; he hadn't even taken off his boots, just sprawled on the bed, motionless.

Xie Jingsheng, cramped and aching under the bed, then heard He Anchang's cold voice, "Come out."

He poked his head out from the edge of the bed and saw He Anchang lying motionless on his back, turning his eyes to look at him. Xie Jingsheng smiled eagerly, raising his hands, "I didn't even do anything before you came back."

He Anchang didn't speak, just watched him.

Xie Jingsheng touched the tip of his nose, sitting on the floor and asking, "What's wrong?"

He Anchang retracted his gaze again, turned over, and faced away from him, "Nothing."

Xie Jingsheng had already sensed that he was indeed not himself today, so he naturally wouldn't be put off by "nothing." He cautiously scooted his bottom onto the edge of the bed, leaned slightly, and said, "Talk?"

He Anchang's profile was cold. He said, "Give me back my pillow."

Xie Jingsheng obediently presented the pillow with both hands to the master, almost helping him put it under his head.

"My master," Xie Jingsheng said with a smile, "Who bullied you to make you so unhappy?" No one responded, but he didn't mind. "I heard that bottling things up for too long can cause internal injuries. My master is so young, what could possibly be so hard to say? Or what happened, did your little widow run off with someone else?"

The pillow flew right at his face. Xie Jingsheng caught it squarely, hugged it to his chest, and took a deep sniff. He shamelessly raised an eyebrow at He Anchang, "Throwing yourself into my arms, are we? I quite like this scent." He Anchang stared at him, and he immediately cowered again, leaning forward and softly, very gently, saying, "Ruxu, Ruxu, talk to me."

"Calling a ghost," He Anchang retorted with a sidelong glance.

Xie Jingsheng repeated it a few times, seeing his master's expression soften slightly. "I'm calling for you."

He Anchang suddenly sat up and said to him, "Come up."

Xie Jingsheng froze. "Huh?"

"Come up." He Anchang's cool face lifted slightly, his eyes also cold.

Xie Jingsheng took off his boots and cautiously edged closer to him, saying, "You're newly ar—" Before he could finish, a pair of icy hands unexpectedly wrapped around his shoulders. This pale-skinned person lunged at him, pinning him onto the bed. Because the movement was clumsy and stiff, they almost rolled off the bed. Xie Jingsheng, quick-witted, caught the person and raised his legs to block the edge of the bed, yet his face was still stunned and foolish.

"He Anchang." Xie Jingsheng suddenly lifted the hand that was resting on He Anchang's waist, not touching him. "Let's talk properly, no physical force." Before he finished speaking, he clenched his jaw and swallowed, his voice hoarse as he forced out, "What are you doing?"

He Anchang straddled his waist. From this angle, looking up, Xie Jingsheng found him even more damnably cool and alluring.

"What do you want to do?" He Anchang grabbed the pillow and lightly thumped him on the forehead. "Don't move!"

Xie Jingsheng let out a muffled groan, raised his hand to grip He Anchang's waist, and gave a few husky laughs, both pained and restrained, "You're the one who shouldn't move first!"

He Anchang asked him from above, "How did the Prince of Qin die?"

Xie Jingsheng closed his eyes, suppressing the tautness he felt in his palm, saying, "How would I know!"

He Anchang said coldly, "Open your eyes and speak."

Xie Jingsheng opened his eyes, glaring at him fiercely, "Bah, how would I know!" Seeing He Anchang's stern gaze, his abdomen, ironically, grew warm. He pushed up, suddenly reversing their positions and pinning He Anchang to the edge of the bed. "Is that how you ask questions?" The pale neck was right before his eyes. Xie Jingsheng's eyes darted, he suppressed himself, then leaned down and fiercely pecked at his neck, before quickly releasing him and retreating to the side. He fumbled to put on his boots, muttering, "If you dare use this method to ask anyone else, you're dead! He Anchang! He Ruxu! I'm truly going to die of worry, ugh!" He pulled at his boots, gritting his teeth, "I truly hate you!"

Then he heard a laugh from behind him. Xie Jingsheng's words stopped, and he abruptly turned back. He Ruxu, with his pale, cool, heartlessly alluring demeanor, lay within his reach, his cheeks slightly flushed from laughing, his eyes twinkling. Xie Jingsheng's chest undoubtedly took a heavy blow. He clutched his chest, desperately pulling at his sanity, thinking, 'He's truly my heart's delight; his smile is too beautiful.'