It was really impossible not to overthink.

Because far too many coincidences had happened between Shen Xuefeng and Ji Changran.

Before Ji Wu even met Shen Xuefeng for the first time, he had already heard that name countless times from the Empress Dowager or the Empress, each time mentioned tightly linked with Ji Changran.

If he remembered correctly, on Shen Xuefeng’s very first day at school, it was him who rang the wooden bell early in the bamboo garden—a clumsy skill that Ji Changran actually believed.

Wasn’t this clearly a prearranged inside cooperation?

Since Shen Xuefeng came to Chongwen Academy, Ji Changran’s days attending school had also increased. The many times Ji Wu had seen those two chatting happily were countless—how many times had Ji Changran secretly sought out Shen Xuefeng behind Ji Wu’s back?

Most suspicious was the way Ji Changran looked at this little companion reader. It hardly seemed innocent. The restrained, suppressed emotions were not something that could appear after just a brief acquaintance with Shen Xuefeng.

That was why Ji Wu suspected Shen Xuefeng was working for him.

Even today, when they went out for spring outing, the two crossed the bridge together — all these coincidences piling up…

Ji Wu really wanted to kill Ji Changran.

Someone like Ji Wu, who had lived so carefully and cautiously until now, always struck with a killing blow. So the earlier test was not truly meant to hurt Shen Xuefeng, but Ji Wu wanted to hear certain words directly from him before he could be satisfied.

He would never dare to harm this little companion reader.

Ji Wu lifted his eyelids and whispered to the youth: “…Come here.”

Having learned his lesson, Shen Xuefeng didn’t dare approach. To ease his own nervousness, he dodged the subject: “Everything I just said was true. Your Highness doesn’t have to believe me, but please don’t punish me for a momentary slip of the tongue.”

“A momentary slip of the tongue?”

Ji Wu finally reined in his gaze, picked up the teapot, poured a cup of hot tea, and said teasingly, “Shen Xuefeng, do you really know what you just said?”

He was encouraging him to seize power, hinting at joining the fight for the throne.

But he had to admit, Shen Xuefeng’s clumsy temptation had some effect. Even without the throne, he really wanted to see Ji Changran fall from his pedestal, where everyone worshiped him.

Shen Xuefeng was indeed a little drunk; normally, he would never dare to speak like this: “Your Highness, everyone desires something. Since this thing is a scarce resource, naturally the capable get it first. In my view, Your Highness is the strongest and fully qualified to compete—”

Ji Wu placed the cup of hot tea in front of him. Though the phrase “scarce resource” was unfamiliar, it was not hard to understand.

“Xuefeng, you’re drunk. Have some tea?”

Shen Xuefeng stared blankly at the teacup, his face flushed, lips moist and tempting to touch.

Once he started speaking, he couldn’t stop himself, still stubbornly trying to instill ideas of seizing power: “Besides, many princes are afraid of losing their original status and glory, so they don’t dare to fight or snatch. In my opinion, Your Highness has the best conditions in this regard.”

The best?

It was the first time anyone had said that to Ji Wu.

“So, according to Xuefeng, what exactly makes it the best?” Ji Wu pretended to be humbly instructive.

Shen Xuefeng racked his brain and said, “Um… precisely because Your Highness is not afraid of losing anything, you can burn your bridges and bet everything on one shot! That’s a huge advantage, Your Highness.”

Ji Wu said nothing, only smiling ambiguously: “Xuefeng, you really are drunk.”

He made a move to help the youth up, but the drunken Shen Xuefeng had long forgotten what caution meant. Immediately, he covered his throat and stepped back repeatedly, “Don’t, don’t touch me!”

Ji Wu’s thin lips curved downward: “I won’t hurt you.”

“No,” Shen Xuefeng said with disbelief, holding onto the cushion as he stood up, his watery eyes warily fixed on Ji Wu, “I’m afraid of you.”

Just those four words plunged Ji Wu’s mood, which had been slightly better, into a deep abyss.

After a long silence, he didn’t wait for Shen Xuefeng’s reply but took a few steps back to lean against the screen and said softly, “I’m farther away now. Are you still afraid?”

Shen Xuefeng shook his head.

The two went down the stairs and out of the tavern. Ji Wu opened the umbrella and, seeing Shen Xuefeng still trying to avoid him, reached out to pull him.

Seeing Ji Wu raise his hand, Shen Xuefeng dared not move anymore. He simply closed his eyes, as if waiting for some punishment, his long black lashes trembling on his eyelids, looking particularly pitiful.

Truly, he couldn’t be hit or scolded—spoiled and delicate, needing careful attention.

Ji Wu restrained his impulse to grab him and said, “I only hold the umbrella for you.”

Only then did Shen Xuefeng hesitate and nod.

They walked along the riverbank, just then Shen Yuhuai sent people from the Shen residence to fetch Shen Xuefeng. Ji Wu saw how unsteady he walked and accompanied him all the way to the carriage.

Before parting, Ji Wu folded the umbrella and handed it back to him.

Shen Xuefeng gripped the umbrella, and seeing Ji Wu standing there drenched in the rain still watching him leave, his heart softened. He wanted to lend him the umbrella again.

But… Ji Wu was clearly trying to scare him on purpose today.

Maybe it was the drunkenness, or maybe a bit of stubbornness, Shen Xuefeng suddenly felt a bit suffocated. He put down the umbrella, pulled down the carriage curtain, and called out, “Bai Hua, let’s go.”

He didn’t even say goodbye to Ji Wu.

Ji Wu naturally understood this unusual reaction very well. He just silently stared at the departing carriage with burning eyes, his hands slowly clenching into fists.

Twilight deepened.

On Polishan Mountain, still at that hidden Xiling Temple.

The rain had just stopped, and the night was cool. Chi Qing leisurely lay in a hammock in the backyard, while a handsome monk beside him obediently fed him peeled grapes.

“Did the heir gain anything from going out for a spring outing today?”

“Of course,” Chi Qing curled his lips. “That silly Yin Lan clung to me all day like a puppy. But today I lost him and ended up following Princess Chang, the eldest princess of the Ji clan. She was careful, with many shadow guards around her.”

The monk smiled and patiently peeled grapes for him.

Chi Qing spit out a few seeds and complained, “When can we finally return to Qi State? Staying in this broken place every day is so boring.”

“Your Highness, don’t be anxious. That day will come.”

Just as Chi Qing was about to say more, he suddenly heard a commotion from the front hall. Ji Wu appeared, his face dark and gloomy.

Passing by the courtyard, he didn’t even glance at Chi Qing. His clothes were half-dry, half-wet, obviously from the rain. A few strands of black hair stuck to his temples and jawline, making his features look even more striking, his thin lips flushed red.

“I say, Ji—”

With a loud bang, Ji Wu slammed the door shut, not uttering a single word to Chi Qing.

Chi Qing widened his eyes. “He—he’s really this angry?”

Soon, a deafening crash came from behind that door. A porcelain vase fell and shattered, and Ji Wu paced back and forth, his face full of gloom. He lifted a wooden chair and violently smashed it against the wall.

The chair splintered into wooden strips with cracking sounds, mixed with dust scattering weakly at his feet.

In the courtyard, Chi Qing pondered for a while, then suddenly smiled.

The monk handed him another grape, which he popped into his mouth with the tip of his tongue. Patting the monk’s shoulder, he chuckled, “This is really interesting. Shen Xuefeng can make him this furious just by barely paying attention to him? Is it really necessary to react this way?”