Outside the door, Ji Changran stood holding a folding fan, waiting quietly for a while, but still heard no response from Shen Xuefeng.

He furrowed his brow. If he hadn’t seen wrongly, Shen Xuefeng had clearly returned to his room just now—so why was there no sound from inside?

…Forget it. There was no urgency, and truth be told, his visit today had no proper reason to begin with.

Even Ji Changran himself couldn’t explain why he was so concerned about the young master of the Shen household. Feeling irritated and unsettled, he was just about to leave the small courtyard—

At that moment, the door creaked open. Shen Xuefeng carefully cracked the door and slipped out like a thief, quickly shutting it behind him. “Your Highness, may I ask what brings you here?”

Hearing that familiar tone, Ji Changran felt a strange, sweet sense of joy bubble up inside him, dispelling some of his frustration. He turned and gave a small cough. “It’s nothing, really. I just heard you were ill and came to bring some medicine.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. My mother already had the household physician prepare medicine for me.” Shen Xuefeng couldn’t just refuse outright when someone offered something with a smile, so he softened his tone. “It’s a bit wasteful for me to take this from you. Please, keep it.”

“Since I’ve already given it to you, it’s yours now. How you handle it is up to you.”

Though Ji Changran appeared gentle in manner, he was actually quite domineering underneath. He had been this way since childhood, always having the final say. Shen Xuefeng had no choice but to accept it.

Then came a long moment of awkward silence between the two of them.

Shen Xuefeng felt incredibly embarrassed, but he couldn’t very well invite Ji Changran inside to sit. He had no choice but to ask, “Besides bringing me medicine, Your Highness, is there… anything else?”

“There is, actually.” Ji Changran closed his fan with a crisp snap and brought up something as if casually, “I wonder if you’ve had a chance to visit the Altar of the Sun since your rest. If I remember correctly, in two days we’ll be jointly leading the recitation of the prayers. If you’re free now, why not come with me for a walk? The altar isn’t far from here.”

This invitation was difficult to decline. Ji Changran represented the royal family, while Shen Xuefeng, Bo Ying, and the others represented the students of the Imperial Academy. They were bound to participate together in the upcoming rites.

Still fretting about how to get Ji Wu out of his room, Shen Xuefeng eagerly nodded. “Since it’s Your Highness who invites me, then of course I’ll go.”

“One moment,” Ji Changran’s gaze brushed calmly past the doorway. He said considerately, “If you need a parasol, feel free to fetch it. I’ll wait here.”

There was no way Shen Xuefeng could open the door with Ji Changran standing right there. He glanced up at the clear, cloudless sky and declined, “The sun sets earlier in the mountains—there’s no need. Besides, a little sunlight is good for one’s health. I’ll manage without an umbrella.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Ji Changran smiled, instantly returning to his usual demeanor. “Very well, then.”

The two of them exited the courtyard together and happened to run into Fan Qinghe and Bo Ying.

A rare look of confusion crossed Bo Ying’s usually calm face, though he still greeted them respectfully, “May I ask where Your Highness is headed? At this time, shouldn’t you be by His Majesty’s side?”

Bo Ying was a model companion-attendant, insisting that things be done by the book and on schedule. He practically had the words advise and admonish tattooed across his back.

A flicker of annoyance flashed through Ji Changran’s eyes, barely perceptible. “I just came from my father, so you needn’t worry, Young Master Bo.”

Fan Qinghe exchanged a glance with Shen Xuefeng, who quickly added, “His Highness said he wanted to take me to see the Altar of the Sun. Would you like to come along?”

Naturally, the two of them agreed to join.

The group of two became four, and Shen Xuefeng immediately felt more at ease. Along the way, Fan Qinghe and Ji Changran chatted cheerfully, while he and Bo Ying trailed behind in silence.

Just as Shen Xuefeng had said, the sun set earlier in the mountains. As the dense forest canopy blocked out the final strands of twilight, the scenery around Diyin Temple quickly dimmed.

With darkness falling, the woods became even gloomier and harder to see.

As they walked, they saw up ahead a girl in a purple robe carrying a brightly lit Xianju lantern, walking gracefully down the path.

When she came face-to-face with Ji Changran, she let out a surprised gasp, startling the group.

Hearing the soft and delicate voice, Shen Xuefeng—walking behind—couldn’t help but peek out curiously. Ji Changran, however, said coolly, “And who might you be, miss? This area is not open to idle visitors.”

The girl froze for a moment, then politely bowed to Ji Changran before replying in a gentle voice, “My name is Ning Ziyou. My father is Ning Hai, Assistant Minister of Rites. I came with him a few days ago to help prepare for the summer sacrificial rites, and I’ve been staying here at the temple since.”

“I see,” Ji Changran quickly responded. “Please rise, Miss Ning.”

Upon hearing the name, Shen Xuefeng was overjoyed.

This was none other than Ji Changran’s future empress.

He was just about to move closer for a better look when Ning Ziyou suddenly stumbled, and the lantern in her hand swayed violently. Her whole body swayed too, toppling straight toward Ji Changran.

The flickering candlelight illuminated the delicate beauty of the girl’s face and her panicked expression—but instead of stepping forward to catch her in a gallant rescue, Ji Changran merely furrowed his brow and took a discreet step back.

Thud—Ning Ziyou brushed past the edge of Ji Changran’s robe and fell flat on the ground in full view of all four onlookers.

Her lantern rolled away, spinning a few times before coming to a stop right at Shen Xuefeng’s feet.

“……”

Shen Xuefeng bent down to pick up the lantern, then quietly tugged Fan Qinghe’s sleeve, hinting for him to move back a little—to give him a good front-row seat to enjoy the drama.

By now, night had fallen, and no one could clearly see Ji Changran’s cold expression. He glanced disdainfully at the girl on the ground, then bent down again, his face softening like a clear spring: “Miss Ning, are you alright?”

Ning Ziyou helped Ji Changran’s arm and stood up, feeling quite shy and embarrassed. Her voice was as soft as a mosquito’s whisper: “I’m sorry to trouble Your Highness. It’s just that the paths in the mountains are really rugged and hard to walk…”

“It’s nothing. As long as you’re unharmed, that’s enough.” Ji Changran withdrew his arm, opened his fan, and waved it gently, showing no trace of pity.

Shen Xuefeng, who had been holding a lantern and watching the whole time, felt a sudden pang in his heart.

Something was wrong—very wrong.

Why didn’t these two spark any romantic chemistry on their first meeting? Could it be that his way of “crossing over” was wrong?

Before he could figure it out, Ning Ziyou spoke again, “May I ask where Your Highness intends to go? This path only leads to the altar. Besides that, Mount Cuihua has no other scenic spots.”

Fan Qinghe said, “We are indeed heading to the altar.”

Ning Ziyou nodded knowingly, “If Your Highness doesn’t mind, I can guide you and the young masters. It’s getting dark, and without proper lighting, this path might be difficult to walk.”

After speaking, she looked at Shen Xuefeng, her gaze dropping to the fairy residence lantern in his hand.

Shen Xuefeng’s face flushed, and he quickly handed the lantern back: “Miss Ning, here is your lantern.”

He obediently shrank back behind Fan Qinghe, thinking to himself that maybe the problem was only with Ji Changran. From Ning Ziyou’s behavior, she seemed very eager to guide the way, and the way she looked at Ji Changran was somewhat clingy.

There might be hope.

Ning Ziyou led the four of them to the altar together. Originally, Fan Qinghe and Ji Changran were supposed to walk together, but Ning Ziyou took Fan Qinghe’s place, so he had to fall back and chat with Shen Xuefeng and Bo Ying.

To give these two ample time to interact, Shen Xuefeng deliberately avoided Ji Changran’s gaze on the way. After a brief walk around the altar, he quietly pulled Fan Qinghe back to Di Yin Temple.

That night, before falling asleep, Shen Xuefeng felt relaxed and triumphant. It seemed this plotline was going quite well, and he could feel at ease.

Two days later, on the day of the official altar ceremony, Shen Xuefeng was woken early by the well-disciplined Bo Ying. He began bathing, burning incense, grooming, and dressing, putting on the ceremonial robes that the Court of Imperial Rites had prepared for him in advance.

The black and red garments were layered three inside and three outside, solemn and grand. Wearing them in the heat of summer left Shen Xuefeng gasping for air, sweating after only a few steps.

When he opened the door, Fan Qinghe, who lived diagonally opposite, stepped out holding the lower garment. The moment he saw Shen Xuefeng, a look of amazement flashed in his eyes.

“We’re clearly wearing the same official ceremonial robes, so why do you look so different from me, Xuefeng?”

Shen Xuefeng tilted his head in confusion, “What’s different?”

Fan Qinghe’s silk-smooth, shiny black hair was tied up with a red jade hairpin. As he slightly turned his head, his slender, fair neck was exposed. A black ceremonial crown sat atop his head, with red tassels hanging down. A knot was tied at his delicate, small chin, and as he walked, a polished jade earring swung by his temple, making his face appear even more sacred and noble—beautiful yet unattainable.

Shen Xuefeng’s robe was embroidered with lifelike patterns, layered over a white gauze inner shirt. As he moved, his waist belt tightened the dark blue skirt and hanging ribbons, emphasizing his slender waist, so delicate it seemed it could be grasped with a hand.

Because of his lifelong frailty and staying mostly at home, his skin was whiter than snow. He began to breathe faster after just a few steps, breaking out in a light sweat.

Shen Xuefeng spun around a few times in front of Fan Qinghe. “Could it be that I’m wearing it wrong somewhere?”

“Of course not,” Fan Qinghe met his moist, pure apricot-colored eyes and sighed softly, “It’s not that you’re wearing it wrong, it’s that my face is wrong.”

Shen Xuefeng caught the implication behind his words and blushed deeply, feeling even hotter.

After a while, Bo Ying came out. Since Fu Xinxin was a girl and it was inconvenient for her to stay with them, only the three of them met in this courtyard.

“Miss Fu must have already departed by now. Let’s go soon,” Bo Ying said, glancing at the sky.

They didn’t delay any longer. On the way, Shen Xuefeng dared neither to open his umbrella nor to drink water, even though the weather was unbearably hot. The sun hadn’t risen fully, but the temperature was already rising.

He didn’t know how long this ceremony would last. The next task was to figure out exactly what opportunity Ji Changran and Ning Ziyou had encountered together.

Shen Xuefeng stared at his exquisite sleeve cuffs, lost in thought. Suddenly, a flash of insight struck him—Ji Wu must also be dressed the same way today.

No, the prince’s ceremonial robes would be of an even higher standard. He must be dressed even more grandly than himself.

Thinking of this, he covered his chest, feeling his heartbeat suddenly speed up.

He suddenly really, really wanted to see what Ji Wu looked like today.