Chapter 12

Zhan Jianxing couldn’t help but take another look at him.  

Although the day Prince of Dai met his demise had been chaotic, driven by a childish and futile impulse to hold grudges, she had memorized the faces of everyone from Prince Dai Manor. She recognized this Zhu Chengjun, clearly remembering how he had snatched a steamed bun from her family’s stall.  

Back then, he hadn’t been this wooden—no, wait, that wasn’t quite right. Later, during the court hearing when Luo Zhifu questioned him, his demeanor had been much like it was now.  

“Come, let’s introduce you to each other. This is Zhan Jianxing and Xu Yi. After the New Year, they’ll be joining you in your studies,” came the amiable voice of Chu Hanlin.  

Zhan Jianxing quickly snapped out of her thoughts and, along with Xu Yi, bowed to the two royal grandsons of the Zhu family.  

Luo Zhifu had previously sent someone to consult Chu Hanlin and knew he was only supposed to teach Zhu Chengjun, so he had selected two study companions, thinking that would suffice—he had done his best. After all, scholarly youths from respectable families were all buried in their books, preparing for the Imperial Examination. Who had time to idle around with royal grandsons? These weren’t the early days of the dynasty anymore. The feudal princes’ meddling in military and political affairs had long been severed by the late emperor. No amount of flattery could compare to earning one’s own proper qualifications through the exams.  

Unexpectedly, Zhu Chengke had now appeared out of nowhere. With this division, each royal grandson would only have one study companion, making the arrangement rather meager.  

Fortunately, the royal grandsons didn’t seem to mind much. Zhu Chengke smiled and asked, “Did Luo Zhifu select these study companions for us under His Majesty’s decree?”  

When Luo Zhifu confirmed it, Zhu Chengke, as if he had already made up his mind, confidently pointed at Zhan Jianxing and declared, “Then you’ll be with me from now on.”  

It was a statement, not open for discussion.  

Luo Zhifu and Chu Hanlin remained silent, tacitly agreeing not to interfere in matters between the royal grandsons.  

Zhu Chengjun, for his part, was unbothered. He didn’t utter a word, merely glancing at the bewildered Xu Yi—left to him by his cousin—before lowering his gaze to the ground, silently accepting the arrangement.  

“Master, since there’s nothing else to do, my ninth brother and I will take them around the manor. They can familiarize themselves with the place, and we’ll get to know each other,” Zhu Chengke proposed with an air of decisiveness.  

Chu Hanlin nodded. “Very well, go ahead.”  

Zhan Jianxing stiffened slightly as Zhu Chengke turned and took her hand. She wasn’t used to it but couldn’t pull away, so she let her fingers remain rigid as he led her out.  

Zhu Chengke had no intention of holding her hand for long. Once they stepped outside, he released it and murmured, “Handkerchief.”  

A eunuch waiting outside immediately presented a pristine white handkerchief. Zhu Chengke took it and meticulously wiped his right hand—the one that had just touched Zhan Jianxing—before tossing the still-spotless handkerchief to the ground.  

Zhan Jianxing, who had witnessed the entire scene: “…”  

What’s wrong with him?  

Zhu Chengke’s critical and disdainful gaze swept over her face. “Commoner, you’ve got quite the nerve. After causing my grandfather’s death, you dare step foot into Prince Dai Manor?”  

The boy’s sudden shift in demeanor was jarring, his malice unrestrained. Zhan Jianxing schooled her expression—not that she had much of one to begin with—and replied calmly, “My family is innocent. His Majesty has already cleared our name.”  

“You, innocent?” Zhu Chengke scoffed. “If your wretched shop hadn’t been in the way, how could my grandfather have met such an ignoble end? A laughingstock for the entire realm!”

Having witnessed Zhu Xunshuo’s arrogance and cruelty, Zhan Jianxing was unfazed by this level of false accusation and found it unworthy of a response, so she simply pressed her lips together in silence.

Zhu Chengke had more to say: “I don’t care what schemes you’re plotting, but since you’re here, you’d better behave. If you dare cause any trouble—hmph, don’t think Prince Dai Manor can’t deal with you. There are plenty of ways to make you disappear from this world without a trace.”

Zhan Jianxing remained expressionless.

Xu Yi glanced at her discreetly, his eyes filled with concern.

After delivering his threats, Zhu Chengke turned to leave, but his attendant hurriedly added, “Seventh Master, if the tutor asks about our absence—”

Zhu Chengke paused mid-step and said impatiently to Zhu Chengjun beside him, “I don’t have time. You take them around wherever. If the tutor asks about me later, just say Father summoned me halfway. Got it?”

Zhu Chengjun opened his mouth slightly. “Oh.”

Zhu Chengke strode off, his attendant following. His black boots stepped indifferently over the handkerchief abandoned on the path, leaving a clear footprint behind.

“What a waste of good things,” Xu Yi muttered, then immediately covered his mouth, glancing nervously at Zhu Chengjun.

Zhu Chengjun showed no particular reaction and only asked, “Where would you like to go?” His tone was perfectly ordinary.

He seemed far more normal than that Zhu Chengke, and Xu Yi relaxed slightly. “As you wish, Your Highness?”

As mere commoner study companions, how could they presume to dictate where to wander in the prestigious Prince Dai Manor?

Zhu Chengjun didn’t respond but simply turned and walked away. A young attendant followed him, grumbling, “Such freezing weather, the wind cuts right to the bone—what’s there to see? Seventh Master comes up with the idea but won’t do it himself, and in the end, it’s Ninth Master who suffers. Honestly.”

Xu Yi felt awkward, wanting to say something but unsure how. He edged closer to Zhan Jianxing and sighed. “Ah.”

Though the attendant’s complaints were directed at Zhu Chengke, speaking so openly in front of them showed how little regard he had for their presence.

Zhan Jianxing’s expression remained calm—not because she was exceptionally composed, but because the situation was actually slightly better than she had anticipated.

At the very least, she had managed to stay. The first hurdle was cleared.

Moreover, after meeting Chu Hanlin, she now held a new—or rather, more certain—idea in her heart.

She couldn’t rely solely on Prince Dai Manor to oppose her clan forever. That would be drinking poison to quench thirst. She had to become strong herself.

But how?

She had no power, no influence, no wealth—it should have been nearly impossible. And yet—

The corners of Zhan Jianxing’s lips curled faintly upward as she suppressed the surging excitement in her heart.

And yet, she was about to have a Hanlin academician as her tutor.

**

The tour of Prince Dai Manor was uneventful—not because the scenery was lacking, but after Zhu Chengke’s outburst, no one was in the mood to appreciate it.

Zhu Chengjun walked ahead while the two study companions followed obediently. Xu Yi attempted conversation twice, but Zhu Chengjun responded half-heartedly. Still, perhaps because Zhu Chengke had left, his expression was no longer as stiff and lifeless as before.

It was only then that Xu Yi realized he wasn’t some dull, gray figure. His skin was actually quite fair, and his features were more striking than Zhu Chengke’s, especially his thick, dark eyebrows—like bold strokes from a master painter’s brush on a snow-white canvas, sharp yet restrained, exuding an innate nobility.

This aura had been hidden when he let his brows and lips droop earlier, but now that it was revealed, his aloofness seemed entirely natural, as if this was simply who he was and how he ought to behave.  

So even when Zhu Chengjun gave him a perfunctory reply, Xu Yi didn’t feel slighted.  

Zhan Jianxing remained silent the whole time. Given her past conflict with Prince Dai Manor, she had no choice but to venture into the tiger’s den out of desperation, but she had no intention of engaging much with these royal grandsons.  

Zhu Chengjun didn’t speak to her either. The group trudged along in awkward silence for about a quarter of an hour through Prince Dai Manor, though neither Zhan Jianxing nor Xu Yi had any idea where they were going, since Zhu Chengjun offered no explanations.  

As for Zhu Chengke’s earlier claim about “getting to know each other,” it had clearly fallen flat. If Zhu Chengke’s attitude was open disdain, then Zhu Chengjun’s was quiet indifference—either way, neither of them took their two study companions seriously.  

After a quarter of an hour, they returned to the Discipline and Virtue Institute with little to show for their excursion.  

Xu Yi couldn’t help muttering, “…Well, he wasn’t wrong. That was pretty pointless.”  

The boys were still young, and their unspoken tension wasn’t lost on Hanlin Academician Chu. But he didn’t pry, nor did he ask about Zhu Chengke’s whereabouts. Instead, he simply smiled and inquired about Zhan Jianxing and Xu Yi’s progress in their studies.  

Xu Yi answered first, “I’ve started on *Mencius*.”  

Hanlin Chu asked, “Which chapter? Or have you finished it?”  

Xu Yi scratched his head sheepishly. “Sir, my ancestors were herdsmen. It wasn’t until the late emperor ordered the construction of garrison settlements and recruited laborers that my family was granted the privilege of moving here. With no scholarly background, I started my studies late. I’ve only just begun *Mencius* and have only reached the section on King Hui of Liang.”  

So he was just at the beginning. Hanlin Chu nodded and turned to Zhan Jianxing. “And you?”  

Zhan Jianxing bowed. “I’ve only managed to read through the Four Books in a rough manner. As I am slow-witted, many passages remain unclear to me. I humbly ask for your guidance, sir.”  

For young students, the Four Books were the foundation of all learning. At her age, simply having read through them already indicated that she was far from “slow-witted.” If she struggled to grasp certain passages, the issue likely lay not with her but with her previous teacher.  

Hanlin Chu understood how difficult it was for children from poor families to find a truly learned tutor. Yet instead of blaming her teacher’s shortcomings, Zhan Jianxing attributed it to her own dullness—a mark of respect for her mentor. Pleased, Hanlin Chu smiled. “For your age, this is already commendable.”  

Magistrate Luo chimed in with a chuckle, “Though you’ve come as study companions for the royal grandsons, having a Hanlin scholar like Qian De as your teacher is a rare opportunity. I hope you seize it and don’t waste this chance.”  

Zhan Jianxing and Xu Yi both bowed in acknowledgment, taking Magistrate Luo’s advice to heart.

Afterwards, Chu Hanlin informed them that classes would commence after the New Year, before the tenth day of the first lunar month. With today’s task completed, Luo Zhifu was invited by Chu Hanlin to stay for a meal. The two young study companions, lacking such privilege, took their leave and exited to return home.

**

Once outside the princely mansion, Xu Yi let out a deep sigh, as if he had been holding it in for a long time.

“What are we going to do from now on?” Xu Yi complained without waiting for Zhan Jianxing to ask. “My parents thought the Royal Grandsons were around my age and couldn’t be that bad, so they sent me here to seek a future. But from what I see now, they’re going to be quite difficult to serve.”

Zhan Jianxing politely consoled him, “Brother Xu, your luck is still better than mine.”

At least he hadn’t been pointed at and openly threatened.

Xu Yi shook his head. “Ah, Jianxing, I’m the study companion for the Ninth Master. He seems normal enough, but he’s not favored. Did you see how the Seventh Master ordered him around? It wasn’t like talking to a brother—more like commanding a servant. If the Seventh Master bullies even the Ninth Master like that, what’s to stop him from picking on me once we start studying together? The Ninth Master can’t even protect himself, let alone me. I’ll just have to endure it, won’t I?”

Though he appeared carefree, Xu Yi was observant beneath the surface, and his reasoning wasn’t wrong.

Zhan Jianxing had no rebuttal and could only say, “With the teacher present, he should be able to intervene. If it really comes to it, we’ll just have to bear it and focus on studying with him.”

Xu Yi sighed. “I suppose that’s all we can do.”

His worries came and went quickly. By the time they reached the fork in the road, he had already cheered up and cheerfully invited Zhan Jianxing to visit his home when they had time.

Zhan Jianxing thanked him, and they parted ways, each heading home.