In the courtyard, Jingxi still smiled silently.

Ning Rushen waited for a moment without getting a response and began to doubt: could it be that the monk was just making small talk?

Well, it made sense—how could there really be something so mystical?

He nodded to Jingxi. “Then I’ll head back first.”

As he spoke, he started walking toward the courtyard gate, brushing past Jingxi when he was suddenly stopped.

“Benefactor, please wait.”

Jingxi fished a lustrous Bodhi bead out of his sleeve.

Ning Rushen’s heart skipped a beat, and he whispered, “Is this for me to return with?”

Jingxi quickly waved his hands. “Ah… no, no. This is a thousand-year Bodhi seed. After being blessed and chanted upon by this poor monk, and offered before Buddha for nine hundred and ninety-nine days… it can now be yours for just fifty merits. Benefactor, do you want one?”

Ning Rushen: “…”

So it was just a sales pitch.

He looked at Jingxi’s warm and smiling face, pulled out fifty coins with a complicated expression, and said, “Alright, I’ll take one.”

Jingxi pressed his palms together. “Amitabha~”

…

With the Bodhi bead in hand, Ning Rushen left the courtyard.

Outside the courtyard, it was quiet and empty.

Looking around, he saw only a few fallen leaves scattered along the path that crossed through the courtyard, leaving faint traces of the wind.

He stood in place for two breaths, then tucked his hands into his sleeves and continued toward the front hall.

In the front courtyard, a few monks were either cleaning or doing their studies. Scattered guards and officials from the Senglu Temple were also stationed nearby.

Li Jingyu was sitting alone at a stone table under a tree.

When Ning Rushen walked over, he gave a respectful bow. “Your Highness.”

“Master Ning is here.” Li Jingyu patted the seat beside him. “Have a seat.”

Ning Rushen sat down next to him. “Why is Your Highness sitting here alone?”

Li Jingyu said, “I’m waiting for my royal brother.”

Ning Rushen glanced around. “Waiting for His Majesty?”

Now that he thought about it, he had only exchanged a glance with Li Wuting earlier in the morning and hadn’t spoken since.

Jingxi had mentioned that they were discussing Buddhist scriptures earlier in the day.

Who knew where Li Wuting had gone after that?

Li Jingyu explained, “Royal brother is carving bowl lotuses.”

“Bowl lotuses?”

“Mm. For sincere prayer and blessings. Royal brother wants to carve one himself and place it before our mother consort’s eternal lamp.”

Ning Rushen made a thoughtful “hmm.”

Li Jingyu suddenly leaned in. “Master Ning, are you secretly asking about royal brother because you want to find him? I can take you to him.”

“…”

I already said I wasn’t asking secretly.

Ning Rushen said, “This humble servant will not disturb His Majesty.”

Li Jingyu looked somewhat disappointed. “Alright then.”

The two of them idly chatted for a while. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves above, scattering dapples of light onto the ground.

As they talked, a sudden commotion came from the other side.

Ning Rushen turned toward the noise and saw several palace attendants rushing in a certain direction, looking panicked.

His heart tightened inexplicably. “What’s going on?”

Li Jingyu quickly called over a palace attendant to ask.

The palace attendant was flustered. “His Majesty injured his hand—it’s not a minor injury!”

Ning Rushen’s heart skipped a beat: what happened?

Li Jingyu was so startled that he jumped to his feet. “I’ll go check!”

Ning Rushen quickly followed. “I’ll go too.”

…

The two followed the palace attendants in haste to a secluded courtyard, which was already a scene of chaos.

When Ning Rushen stepped into the courtyard, he saw Li Wuting seated at a stone table. His side profile was cool and composed, but his outstretched left arm rested on the table, clutching a bloodstained silk handkerchief to stem the bleeding.

The half-carved bowl lotus lay to the side.

Because it was stained with blood, it could no longer be used.

Ning Rushen held his breath. “Your Majesty…”

The courtyard was noisy, and his voice wasn’t loud.

Yet, as if hearing him, Li Wuting turned his head to look.

His deep gaze pierced through the flurry of bustling palace attendants and landed on Ning Rushen.

After a brief hesitation, Ning Rushen stepped forward.

Li Jingyu was exclaiming in alarm nearby. The scene was chaotic. The accompanying Royal Physician arrived with medicine, a water basin, and bandages, preparing to treat the emperor’s wound.

But as soon as the physician lifted a hand, he was softly stopped.

“No need. I’ll do it myself.”

The Royal Physician exclaimed, “Your Majesty, how could that be appropriate?”

“Isn’t it just a flesh wound?”

Li Wuting spoke calmly as he took the damp cloth himself.

The cloth soaked up blood and turned the water in the basin red.

Ning Rushen watched, feeling a pang of sympathy. He unconsciously clenched his sleeves as he looked at the emperor. As he was watching, he suddenly noticed De Quan throwing him a look like a signal flare.

When he turned his head: ?

De Quan’s eyes were filled with a complex mix of emotions—sorrow, urgency, and frustration—all condensed into two words: Go on!

Ning Rushen: “…”

Within a few breaths, Li Wuting had cleaned his wound.

He still showed no intention of letting anyone else help, seemingly stubborn enough to bandage his own hand.

Ning Rushen couldn’t hold back anymore. “Your Majesty, allow me to assist you?”

Li Wuting paused mid-action and glanced at him.

Just when Ning Rushen thought he would be refused, Li Wuting moved his hand slightly closer to him. “Hmm.”

…Hmm?

Ning Rushen froze for a moment before sitting next to Li Wuting, gently taking his hand.

The warmth of the large palm rested in his own.

Only then did Ning Rushen realize how deep the wound was.

Blood still faintly seeped from the edges, and there seemed to be splinters embedded in the flesh. The intricate lines of his palm were a web of hardships.

Ning Rushen felt a twinge in his heart.

With a light sigh, he cradled Li Wuting’s hand and carefully began cleaning the wound.

His soft fingertips gently pressed against the rough palm.

A fine layer of medicinal powder was sprinkled on the wound.

To make it easier, Ning Rushen instinctively pulled the emperor’s arm closer. This posture brought them very close, and as he leaned forward, strands of his hair fell, tangling between their arms.

The palace attendants in the courtyard had all lowered their heads, remaining silent.

Ning Rushen focused intently, blowing softly on the wound as he applied the medicine. At moments of shared pain, he even let out little hisses of “Tsk!” and “Ow!” in sympathy.

Li Wuting: “…”

In the silent courtyard, the only sound was his exaggerated sighs of pain.

Li Wuting stared at his puffed-up cheeks for a moment before he couldn’t help but comment, “If I’m not mistaken, the one who’s injured is me.”

“…”

Ning Rushen paused, then sheepishly replied, “This humble servant has a strong sense of empathy.”

Li Wuting murmured, “Stronger than my own, it seems.”

Ning Rushen peered at him. “Doesn’t Your Majesty feel any pain?”

After a pause, Li Wuting gazed deeply at him for a few seconds before lowering his lashes. His knuckles curled slightly, and he said nothing.

Ning Rushen sighed inwardly: as expected, it did hurt.

But knowing Li Wuting’s character, he wouldn’t admit it. Prince Xuan had said before—Li Wuting liked to bear everything himself, keeping his struggles buried inside.

Ning Rushen finished applying the medicine and reached for the bandage.

Just then, a commotion came from the courtyard gate.

He turned to see Consort Shu rushing over. “Your Majesty!”

When her gaze fell on Ning Rushen, she tilted her head slightly but quickly refocused on Li Wuting’s injury.

“Has someone tended to it?”

Li Wuting replied, “It’s just a flesh wound. Nothing serious.”

Consort Shu asked worriedly, “How did this happen?”

As Ning Rushen tied the bandage, he listened to the conversation. After a moment of silence, Li Wuting answered, “I lost focus for a moment.”

…Li Wuting, losing focus?

Ning Rushen’s thoughts wandered as he finished tying the bandage.

He was about to withdraw his hand when Li Wuting’s fingertips lightly grazed his, as if to hold him back.

Startled, Ning Rushen looked up. “?”

Li Wuting’s expression remained calm.

He wondered if he had imagined it—maybe Li Wuting’s hand had simply twitched from the pain.

…

After treating his hand, Li Wuting insisted on carving a new bowl lotus.

Consort Shu’s persuasion failed, so she left after giving a few reminders.

Ning Rushen stood by and asked, “Then shall I take my leave too?”

Li Wuting gave him a glance. “Go ahead.”

Ning Rushen and Li Jingyu left together.

The courtyard returned to quiet, save for De Quan’s worried muttering.

“Your Majesty…”

Li Wuting raised a hand to stop him, picked up a new piece of sandalwood, and resumed carving.

“Let me finish this for Mother Consort first.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

…

A while later, the freshly carved bowl lotus was completed.

Li Wuting exhaled slowly and placed the carving knife aside.

The strain on his injured hand caused the wound to seep blood again. He removed the bandage and instructed De Quan to fetch fresh medicine and clean cloth.

The bandage fell to the side, the palm faintly stained red.

Li Wuting didn’t let De Quan assist, tending to it himself.

De Quan watched anxiously from the side. Remembering what he’d overheard earlier at the courtyard, he grew even more worried.

Master Ning plans to leave again?

The emperor clearly cares deeply about him. Look at his expression—still dwelling on it now.

De Quan couldn’t hold back and cautiously advised, “Your Majesty, no need to worry. With the imperial decree in place, Master Ning can’t resign and leave. Besides, this servant believes Master Ning holds deep affection for Your Majesty—how could he bear to leave?”

Li Wuting was silent for a moment.

“It’s not as you think…”

Lowering his eyes, he gently wiped the blood from his palm. His refined brow remained calm and composed, embodying the bearing of a gentleman.

“Besides, I would never force him.”

De Quan sighed inwardly: His Majesty might say that, but why did he lose focus and cut his hand just hearing someone mention ‘Master Ning’?

…

The final stop at Shaojue Temple was to pay respects at the eternal lamp of Consort Xian.

After finishing their prayers, the group prepared to return to the palace.

As Ning Rushen was about to head to his carriage, a palace attendant called out, “Master Ning, His Majesty summons you to attend him in the imperial carriage.”

“?” Ning Rushen replied, “Understood.”

…

When he arrived at the emperor’s grand yellow carriage, Ning Rushen was briefly dazzled by its brilliance. De Quan popped his head out from inside, grinning.

“Why are you just standing there? Get in!”

Ning Rushen climbed in, marveling at the luxurious interior.

Li Wuting sat poised, with plush blankets piled beside him, forming what looked suspiciously like a nest.

“…”

Ning Rushen eyed the setup and felt inexplicably tempted.

Unable to resist, he nestled into the blankets, nearly sprawling out in front of Li Wuting.

“Your Majesty, is this spot for me?”

Li Wuting gave him a sideways glance. “Unless you think I weave fabric for fun.”

“…Why so sassy again?”

As Ning Rushen settled in, a box of pastries was suddenly placed in front of him.

“These were just delivered.”

“???”

The pastries weren’t just sweet—they had meat fillings too.

After days of vegetarian temple meals, the aroma of meat made Ning Rushen’s heart race.

He looked at Li Wuting in shock. “This is for me?”

Li Wuting tapped the table lightly. “For you to taste and critique.”

“…”

Ning Rushen felt dizzy as he picked up a piece and started eating. The pastries were delicious, the nest was cozy, but something felt off:

Li Wuting didn’t seem particularly cheerful, yet he was being overly kind to him.

While eating, Ning Rushen stole glances at Li Wuting. His pale face stood out starkly, his expression unreadable.

Li Wuting finally noticed the flickering gaze and frowned. “What are you staring at?”

Ning Rushen hesitated. “Your Majesty, this isn’t some farewell meal, is it?”

“…” Li Wuting.

“Are you entertaining strange thoughts again?”

“Well, isn’t it common to—”

Before Ning Rushen could finish, Li Wuting’s lashes suddenly trembled. His lips pressed into a thin line as he murmured, “So it seems Master Ning is always thinking of leaving.”

Ning Rushen: …???

What did he even say to provoke that? Why was His Majesty suddenly accusing him of wanting to leave?

Flustered, Ning Rushen scooted closer. “Your Majesty, who’s been spreading nonsense to you?”

“Was it Shi Yi? I knew he was up to no good these days—”

Li Wuting remained silent, his complex emotions weighing heavily as he turned his gaze aside.

“Your Majesty?”

Ning Rushen tugged at his sleeve. “Your Majesty, please respond to this humble servant?”

Li Wuting stayed quiet, but the nest remained soft, and the pastries stayed warm.

Seeing the faint melancholy in his expression, Ning Rushen pondered for a moment.

Then, with a glance toward De Quan—who had discreetly closed his ears—he leaned closer and whispered, “Zhaojun?”

…

Author’s Note:

Li Wuting: Build a golden nest for my cat. No one else gets one.

Ning Cat: The nest got better, and there’s more pastries too.

Ning Cat: But someone’s spreading rumors to my pooper scooper.

Shi Yi: ??? The slander.