Fan Qinghe’s voice suddenly lowered—so much so that those standing even a short distance away couldn’t hear it.

At that moment, Yin Lan asked carelessly, “Why isn’t the Third Prince saying anything?”

His train of thought abruptly interrupted, Ji Wu retracted his gaze and blandly responded with a question of his own: “What does the Seventh Prince want me to say?”

“I just wanted to ask what you’ve been busy with lately,” Yin Lan pouted, looking a little annoyed. “I went to the Shen residence several times to look for Young Master Shen, but he said he had to take his medicine on schedule and couldn’t go out to play. And when I tried to find Your Highness, you were often gone. What exactly have you two been up to lately?”

Ji Wu was silent for a moment before he finally uttered three words: “Copying calligraphy models.”

Yin Lan said, “Oh, so you’ve been copying… huh? What? Copying calligraphy models? May I ask whose works Your Highness is imitating?”

Ji Wu tugged on the reins, his horse turning sharply to head swiftly toward the entrance of the riding ground.

Yin Lan hurried after him. “Third Prince! Wait for me, Third Prince!”

Under the shade of a tree, Shen Xuefeng had been dozing off in the haze when he heard Yin Lan’s voice calling from a distance. He lifted his head and focused his gaze, just in time to see Ji Wu dismounting and heading in his direction.

He immediately closed his book and perked up, greeting Ji Wu warmly. “Is Your Highness tired from riding? Would you like to rest?”

Ji Wu glanced at him, half-smiling, half-not, but said nothing. He simply sat down next to him, his gaze falling on the scroll in Shen Xuefeng’s hands.

Shen Xuefeng also glanced down at the book he was holding.

Sensing a bit of awkwardness in the air, he tentatively held out the book. “…Does Your Highness want to read it too?”

Ji Wu, disinterested, withdrew his gaze. The intense stare from moments earlier vanished in a flash, leaving Shen Xuefeng wondering if he had imagined it.

In the past, Shen Xuefeng was often caught dozing during morning lectures and frequently unable to answer questions. But recently, he had been working very hard, and the time he spent chatting with Ji Wu after class had significantly decreased.

Ji Wu said meaningfully, “Xuefeng has been quite diligent lately.”

Shen Xuefeng’s face flushed. He rolled up the book into a tube and clutched it tightly in his hand. “Well, Your Highness already knows—my father used to ace the imperial exams, so of course he has expectations for me too. I can’t bring shame to his name.”

Shen Lan, after all, was a top scholar personally appointed by the emperor. His literary talent needed no further proof. With a father so ridiculously accomplished, Shen Xuefeng had no choice but to work hard.

“Besides, the Summer Rite is coming soon. The Chongwen Hall will definitely select a few top students to attend the ceremony. I want to be one of them.”

The Summer Rite, also called the Midsummer Ceremony, was a traditional event for expressing gratitude to heaven and praying for a good wheat harvest. In the Great Ji Dynasty, it also included paying respects to the nameless soldiers who had died on the battlefield—two ceremonies combined into one. Though it wasn’t as grand as the Heaven-Sacrificing Rite, it was still a significant affair.

The reason Shen Xuefeng wanted to attend was because this was the second major plot event involving Ji Changran.

On the day of the rite, Ji Changran would meet the imperial consort he was destined to marry. The two would accidentally fall off a cliff while walking in the mountains and stumble upon an important opportunity by sheer luck.

As for what that opportunity was, Shen Xuefeng wasn’t sure. Great Ji Dynasty 2077 was a single-player game. At that time, he was still stuck in the beginner village collecting gear, grinding study XP at Chongwen Hall, and hadn’t advanced far in the main storyline.

He had only seen screenshots posted in a game forum showing the experience reward for this plot event. The progress moved so fast it made his mouth water with envy, so it left a deep impression on him.

In addition, Shen Xuefeng wanted to confirm something: was Ji Changran’s storyline proceeding as originally scripted?

Last time during the Grand Birthday Celebration, Ji Wu had inexplicably snatched Ji Changran’s opportunity. Shen Xuefeng couldn’t make sense of it and didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing.

This time, he decided to do absolutely nothing—just observe and see if the plot would change again.

To seize this opportunity, Shen Xuefeng had been studying nonstop day and night. At Chongwen Hall, he pretended to slack off and accompany Ji Wu in idleness, but once he got home, he would slam his door shut and recite texts out loud with great fervor.

How could a bunch of ancient people who went to bed early and woke up early ever compete with a modern high schooler trained in the grueling “Hengshui model”? Sure enough, when the monthly test results were posted, Shen Xuefeng saw his name right at the top of the honor roll in the “A” tier list.

“Congrats, Xuefeng,” said Fan Qinghe from beside him, stroking his chin. “Your score really shot up.”

“You’re not bad either. Same A-tier as me,” Shen Xuefeng said proudly.

He followed the list down with his eyes, then squeezed through the crowd and walked over to the last row where Ji Wu stood. His almond-shaped eyes sparkled. “Your Highness, I can go to the Summer Rite with you!”

Not far away, Ji Changran caught that sentence and turned his head in surprise. Summer Rite?

Could it be that Shen Xuefeng had been burning the midnight oil these days just so he could attend the ceremony with Ji Wu?

Ji Wu responded with a cooperative “Congratulations,” then, in a rare shift of tone, asked, “Did you see my score, Xuefeng?”

“I did, I did,” Shen Xuefeng was already prepared to shower praise. “Your Highness is in Class C! That’s a big improvement from last time!”

Ji Changran, eavesdropping from the side: …

Ji Wu got a “C” and still earned praise from Shen Xuefeng?

For context, Ji Wu’s usual scores were either dead last or missing due to absence. So a “C” was, in fact, a significant improvement. Though Shen Xuefeng guessed this wasn’t due to any real academic progress—more likely, his handwriting was nice, which bumped his score a bit.

All in all, it was a result that gave Shen Xuefeng great peace of mind.

See? Not even crowned yet, and already so average. Ji Wu clearly wasn’t the type to be passionate about scholarly pursuits. That was reassuring.

Other princes and princesses glanced enviously at Ji Wu, then shot resentful looks at their own study companions: Look at Shen Xuefeng—no matter how the score turns out, he’s always warm and encouraging. Not like you, always nagging me to memorize texts.

Ji Wu’s lips curved slightly, but there wasn’t much mirth in his eyes. His tone was unreadable. “So it seems your expectations for me aren’t very high, Xuefeng.”

Shen Xuefeng blinked. “Huh?”

It seemed like he didn’t appreciate that response. Did Ji Wu want him to wield a little whip and lash him every day to force him to study?

Shen Xuefeng stammered, “But I’m just a little companion tutor. What right do I have to make demands of Your Highness?”

“Say that again,” Ji Wu glanced at his lowered, long lashes, “I didn’t hear you.”

Shen Xuefeng raised his voice: “What I mean is, if Your Highness wants to study, then study. If not, then don’t. I respect Your Highness’s wishes.”

The surrounding princes were even more moved when they heard this: Look, look, what a proper attitude for a companion tutor!

The words sounded polite enough, but Ji Wu’s gaze gradually turned cold. He smiled, enunciating each word: “So if I insist on being unambitious and unmotivated, you’re going to cover for me?”

Shen Xuefeng felt a bit baffled. Didn’t most people want this kind of thing? What was Ji Wu getting at now?

Still, thinking about how it was ultimately for his own benefit made him a little guilty. Indeed, who wouldn’t feel guilty—he stayed up late reviewing, only to turn around and encourage someone else not to study a single word. What kind of person does that?

But this was his role. Ji Wu being too outstanding right now wouldn’t help him stay under the radar—it might even make enemies among his peers. So he stood firm and declared, “Yes. Your Highness is born under Heaven’s favor. If anyone says you’re unlearned, I’ll be the first to disagree!”

“Good,” Ji Wu nodded, then suddenly smiled. “With your words, I can rest easy.”

By now, more than half a year had passed since the two first met. Ji Wu no longer looked like the pale, gaunt figure he had been back then. His features were now sharp and refined, even more handsome. Though his smile still carried a trace of intimidation, he now exuded an undeniable air of aristocratic power.

Others might have eased their fear of Ji Wu somewhat, but Shen Xuefeng hadn’t. He wouldn’t dare forget that this person would one day hold the power of life and death over him.

At the moment, all he could do was find an excuse and get out of the situation first.

Shen Xuefeng covered his forehead and feigned dizziness: “Your Highness, I came out without an umbrella today, and the sun is quite strong…”

Ji Wu obligingly reached out and took hold of the boy’s arm. “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll take you back to rest in the palace.”

As the two gradually moved away from the score rankings, and the crowd thinned, Shen Xuefeng suddenly felt something blocking the sun overhead. The scorching sunlight no longer beat down on him. He looked up and saw Ji Wu had raised a dark sleeve to shade him.

It was summer, and they weren’t wearing much. Shen Xuefeng could clearly feel the solid, streamlined body behind him as Ji Wu leaned closer. The thought made his face flush red and a light sheen of sweat appeared on his skin.

No matter what, His Highness’s physique was truly impressive—far better than someone like him who rarely exercised.

Ji Wu stared at the boy’s reddened earlobes, then bent down slightly. His long, cool fingers brushed Shen Xuefeng’s temple as he murmured, “You’re sweating so much. Is it the summer heat?”

His fingertips were lightly calloused, and the friction sent a tiny current through Shen Xuefeng’s sensitive skin. Flustered, Shen Xuefeng clutched his clothes tightly. “Your Highness, I-I’m fine. Maybe it’s just because we’re standing too close. It’ll be fine if you step back a little.”

Instead of stepping back, Ji Wu moved his hand down and grasped Shen Xuefeng’s wrist through the fabric. He said slowly, “But Xuefeng is grabbing my outer robe. So… do you want me to be farther away, or closer?”

Shen Xuefeng followed his gaze and looked down, then quickly released his grip and apologized repeatedly, his face flushing even redder. “I was being careless! I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

“It’s fine,” Ji Wu’s dark eyes lingered on the boy’s clean, pale profile, his voice seemingly casual. “I forgot to ask earlier—how did Xuefeng do on the exam this time?”

Hot breath grazed his ear, and Shen Xuefeng shivered uncomfortably. “I ranked in the A tier.”

“Shen Xuefeng scored an A, and Ji Wu got a C,” Ji Wu said, his fingers lightly tracing over the boy’s wrist bone, as if puzzled. “If this Ji Wu were to be pampered by Shen Xuefeng until he became a useless good-for-nothing, do you think Shen Xuefeng would still want him?”

“Of course I would,” Shen Xuefeng answered without thinking, then immediately corrected himself, “No, wait, Your… Your Highness isn’t useless. You mustn’t talk about yourself like that.”

Ji Wu smiled slowly. “The way I see it, if Ji Wu becomes a useless person who can’t live without Shen Xuefeng, that wouldn’t be so bad either. That way, they could stay bound together forever. What do you think, Xuefeng?”

“……”

Suddenly, Shen Xuefeng remembered Ji Wu’s probing words on their first day of school—Ji Wu was a shrewd and ruthless figure, nearly monstrous in his cunning.

He cautiously responded, “Your Highness is not useless. If you were, how could I have volunteered to be your study companion?”

“Maybe not now—but who knows about the future? A lifetime is long. Who can say what might happen?” Ji Wu’s smile faded, and the ink-dark depths of his eyes surged with unreadable emotion. “So then, I suppose I should go ahead and congratulate Xuefeng in advance for getting his wish.”

Hearing this, Shen Xuefeng couldn’t help but shiver. He wasn’t sure if Ji Wu was congratulating him for earning a spot at the summer festival—or for something else entirely.