When she finished, she carefully observed Wei Yu’s expression. “Did I get it right?”

Her almond-shaped eyes, pure and sincere, seemed to see straight into him, while the warm lamplight made her thick lashes appear even softer, adding a touch of misty charm.

Wei Yu felt a sudden heat stir in his chest.

He couldn’t help but think of how Ah Nu used to look at Li Jinghuan with the same gaze, which sparked an inexplicable anger inside him.

He immediately suppressed his emotions, tapped his fingers, and gave a faint “Mm.”

In a split second, his expression returned to normal.

He slowly repeated her words, “It’s not about me seeking help but others seeking help from me.” Then, in a drawn-out tone, he added, “Your strategy is sharp, Ah Nu.”

Zanying knew her uncle was humoring her, but since he didn’t oppose her attending the banquet hosted by the Wang family, she figured it was fine.

Little did she know, in Wei Yu’s eyes, as long as he lived, whatever she wished to do south of the Huai River would always be fine.

He gazed indifferently at the bright red circle on the sheepskin map, but he didn’t ask anything further and let his thoughts drift lazily.

The two sat in silence, only the fragrance of tea lingering in the air.

Wei Yu thought it was about time to leave and was about to stand up when Zanying suddenly spoke, “Little Uncle, what is it like outside?”

Her gaze had unknowingly shifted to the small map between them.

Wei Yu chuckled, “Are you really not sleepy?”

Zanying earnestly shook her head.

Wei Yu settled back into his seat, staring at the map for a moment before lifting his sleeve and, with two fingers, plucking a pearl flower from her hair.

He twisted off a small, white pearl and placed it on the spot marked in red ink on the map, saying, “Jingkou.”

Next, he placed another pearl southwest of Jingkou. “Zhongshan.”

Then, two fingers’ width southwest of Zhongshan, he set down another pearl. “Dongfu City.”

He placed another pearl two fingers’ width west of Dongfu City. “Xizhou City.”

Again, two fingers northwest of Xizhou City, another pearl landed. “Shitou City.”

Lastly, four fingers directly north of Shitou City, he placed one more pearl. “Baishi Fort.”

Zanying suddenly felt alert.

She focused intently on his explanation, noticing the six pearls scattered around, surrounding a recessed area in the center.

She knew that must be the capital, Jiankang.

Wei Yu calmly traced two lines on the map representing the waterways flanking the capital.

“The upper one is the Yangtze River,” he said.

“The lower one is the Qinhuai River.”

“Jiankang is nestled among the mountains, surrounded by such a formidable defense. Zhuge Liang once said this place has Zhongshan coiled like a dragon and Shitou City crouching like a tiger—it is the dwelling of emperors. What do you think?”

Zanying, whose knowledge could not possibly match Zhuge Liang’s, stared at her Little Uncle, dumbfounded.

Wei Yu didn’t wait for her response.

He pointed at Baishi Fort, “The Southern Dynasty has crossed the Yangtze for nearly a century. This place has seen several governors rally their forces and occupy the city four times, attacking Jiankang’s west gate thrice, with Shitou City coming to its rescue each time.”

He then pointed at Shitou City, “This place was breached once by refugees from Shucheng, betrayed once by a Xiongnu general who switched sides for merit, and has been contested by the Wang, Yu, Huan, and Zhou families for generations. Internal strife is common, but when chaos erupts, Dongfu and Xifu cities send their troops to aid.”

His long fingers hovered over Jingkou, his eyes showing a trace of indifference and mockery. “This place, so far, has never fallen into turmoil.”

Zanying listened to each word, realizing that while the capital appeared prosperous and peaceful within its walls—with noble families indulging in leisure and commerce thriving—the surrounding areas were far less stable.

A thought began to form in her mind: though Jiankang was encircled by numerous fortresses, they were fragmented and scattered.

The pearls surrounding the city made it look like a small bead constantly rolling left when the right side moved and rolling right when the left side moved—seemingly safe, yet constrained.

She felt her thoughts were naive and dared not voice them.

At this point, Wei Yu swept up all the pearls from the map and pointed to the thick, winding line. “This is the Huai River, the Southern Dynasty’s most crucial defense against northern invaders. In your father’s time, he ventured north of the Huai with Minister Fu, following General Liu Huan to Yanzhou and Chenliu to reclaim vast stretches of northern territory. Unfortunately, though the battle was won, it was a pyrrhic victory, and the recaptured land was lost again within a year.”

His finger moved further north, tracing beyond the edge of the map and onto the cold, unyielding wood of the table.

“Regrettably,” Wei Yu sighed, his eyelids drooping wearily, “this map isn’t big enough.”

Zanying’s gaze followed the path Wei Yu’s finger traced, lingering over the regions where her father’s footsteps had once tread.

Sensing her deep attachment, Wei Yu recalled that she had never seen her father and, feeling a surge of tender compassion, softened his voice.

“Much of what I’ve said tonight was taught to me in my youth by your father.”

Zanying, startled and grief-stricken, whispered with a frown, “My father had grand ambitions.”

She had always thought her father was merely a scholarly Confucian.

Yet, recently, as she read through the writings and annotations her late father left behind, she saw his analyses of military strategies—profound and complex, but they allowed her a glimpse into his brilliance.

Suddenly, she lifted her head and asked, “What are your aspirations, Little Uncle?”

Wei Yu paused for a moment, then repeated what he had just said, “This map is not big enough.”

Zanying, strangely, understood him, and her eyes sparkled with admiration. “Then, surely your ambitions must be vast and far-reaching.”

Wei Yu shook his head, his sharp sword-like eyes narrowing slightly, though they seemed to hold a touch of warmth. “No, your third brother says I was reckless in my youth. He claims my ambitions were nothing but illusions, harmful to the country and the people.”

It took Zanying a moment to realize that her father was the “third brother” her uncle was referring to.

She was stunned on the spot.

How could this be?

“Are you feeling tired now?”

Wei Yu stopped the conversation there, standing up nonchalantly.

He leaned over the tea table, picked up the tea cup Zanying had placed in front of him, and drank it in one gulp—it was the tea she had served him earlier, and she had forgotten to change it.

What he put back on the table was a small silver hairpin with only one tiny flower bud left. “Even if you’re not tired, you should rest. It’s late.”

Zanying slowly stood up as well.

Seeing that his expression was calm, with no trace of the shocking content of their earlier conversation, she hesitated, unsure whether she should ask further questions.

Her gaze swept past the water clock; she couldn’t understand how the night had passed so quickly.

She had no choice but to bow her head in respect. “I’ve learned much tonight. I respectfully see you off, Uncle.”

“No need for formalities,” Wei Yu said casually.

His gaze swept over her white ruqun, lingering for a moment.

A question that had been on his mind for some time resurfaced.

Step by step, his footsteps echoed heavily as he reached the door, but he paused there.

Turning slightly, he lowered his eyes, his voice deep and resonant, “For whom are you wearing mourning clothes, Ah Nu?”

Zanying was caught off guard and raised her head abruptly.

Under the soft glow of the lamp, Wei Yu’s profile was as calm as ever.

He wasn’t looking directly at her.

Instead, his gaze was lowered slightly, carrying a hint of avoidance and indulgence, hiding his sharpness and offering comfort.

Suddenly, Zanying’s heart ached.

No one had noticed her secret.

While she was in the palace, she had always worn simple, plain clothes.

Now that she was free, she could wear bright reds and greens if she wished, but she still dressed in light, white garments, no different from before.

Others assumed it was just her habit and even suggested she try more vibrant colors.

Only her uncle could see through her with one glance and ask whom she was mourning for.

She lowered her lashes and thought to herself, For myself.

Out loud, she muttered, “Little Uncle, I’m tired.”

Wei Yu saw that she didn’t want to speak and withdrew his gaze.

Turning behind the screen, he left without a trace.

“Is the Grand Marshal really gone?”

At the west wing, Manager Du, after confirming with the guards several times, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Now, they could sleep peacefully.

Inside, after finishing her bath, Lady Ren combed through her wet hair, still feeling uneasy. “It’s so late, and he came directly into the young lady’s quarters…”

Manager Du clicked his tongue. “The Grand Marshal is someone who can take the head of an enemy general from among a hundred thousand troops. If he really wanted to avoid people, we wouldn’t have known he was here. You don’t understand. Even before he joined the military, he did as he pleased and wasn’t bound by convention. He once spent an entire night chatting with the young master in the master’s quarters, to the point where the master got so annoyed he tried to chase him out, laughing and calling him a little rascal.”

As he reminisced, a faint smile flickered in Manager Du’s eyes, but it quickly faded, sinking back into the past like a swirling eddy.

He sighed softly, “Those were the days… but let’s not talk about them anymore.”

Time flew by, and soon, it was the first of June.

Zanying had accepted an invitation to a banquet hosted by the Wang family.

It would be her first time attending a banquet outside the palace and her first time appearing in public not as the future Crown Princess.

After washing up in the morning, Zanying sat before the mirror with her hair loose down to her waist, noticing that her bangs were now falling over her eyes.

Chun Jin, holding an ivory comb, suggested tying her bangs up, and Zanying gave a soft “Mm” in agreement.

Lady Ren had also prepared several sets of bright, beautiful outfits in advance for her to choose from.

Zanying glanced at them in the mirror and said, “I’ll wear white.”