After washing his face and hair, Ji Linxi finally revealed his true appearance.

Early in the morning, the prefectural secretary arrived at Ji Linxi’s room. Following the Crown Prince’s instructions, the secretary was to register him as a “good status” (Liangji) citizen and enroll him in the county school. Once he was established as a linshan sheng (a scholarship student supported by the state), the secretary would no longer need to worry about him.

A linshan sheng receives a small monthly stipend from the government—merely three taels, barely enough to maintain a basic livelihood. While it sounds modest, it is a coveted status for many scholars. For a drifter like Ji Linxi, who would otherwise spend his whole life scratching and struggling in vain, this was an immense, life-changing opportunity.

“Young Master Xi, by the order of that gentleman, I am here today to finalize your ‘good status’ registration, and afterward, we shall head to the county school.”

“Wait a moment.” Having stayed holed up under his covers for two days after returning from the Wang residence—disdaining to wash his face or go out because of the cold—Ji Linxi struggled to emerge from his warm bed. He rubbed his nose, threw on his clothes—or rather, wrapped himself into a bundle—and prepared to start his day.

The secretary’s mouth twitched slightly. Is this the kind of person who expects to pass the imperial examinations? He now understood why the Crown Prince had specifically warned him not to disclose his true identity.

As Ji Linxi fetched a basin of water from outside, the secretary watched him splash the icy, bone-chilling water over his head and face. Ji Linxi grimaced in the cold, thinking that life at the Wang residence had actually been more comfortable than this.

After drying his head, Ji Linxi’s true features were unveiled. He possessed a striking, handsome face—very young, with phoenix eyes, a high nose bridge, thin lips, and deep, ink-black pupils that seemed like bottomless pools.

As he shook out his damp hair, he sneezed violently. There were faint, dark circles under his eyes. Despite his devastating good looks, he lacked the refined bearing of a true scholar. The secretary was stunned: “Xi… Young Master?”

“It’s me,” Ji Linxi replied, sneezing again. “My apologies, Secretary. I had specifically disguised myself for certain reasons; please excuse the deception.”

The secretary took a moment to recover, then noticed the dark circles again: “Young Master Xi, have you not been sleeping well these past few days?”

Ji Linxi’s gaze drifted. Having been well-fed and lying in bed, he had been plagued by lewd thoughts. For the past two days, he had either been stroking the chess piece the “Beauty” left behind or sniffing the jade-scented ointment the Beauty gave him. Whether awake or dreaming, he had been indulging himself without restraint, wallowing in decadence.

“Indeed, my sleep has been… rather restless.”

Ji Linxi reflected deeply. I cannot continue like this. He was a man preparing for the imperial examinations. If he spent every day fantasizing about the Beauty—and doing so “several times a day”—he wouldn’t have the focus to study, let alone the stamina to serve his Beauty properly in the future. He realized he needed to practice self-restraint, exercise, and build his strength.

With that resolve, he tied back his still-damp hair and followed the secretary to the registration office. With a government seal, he was no longer a vagrant, but a pure, legitimate citizen. Clasping his new papers, he felt his chest swell with pride, imagining his future life after passing the examinations.

However, reality soon set in. The county school was not a place for lectures, but solely for examinations. If he wanted to study, he had to find a private tutor or academy himself. The school only held tests two or three times a month; only those who passed could receive the school’s guarantee to participate in the imperial examinations.

Before the secretary could abandon him, Ji Linxi caught his sleeve and pressed a heavy pouch of silver into his hand. “Secretary, I am dull-witted and lack knowledge of the local academies. Please, I beg you to help me find a place to study. I will repay you generously.”

A man must know when to bend, he thought. I humble myself today only to hold my Beauty in my arms tomorrow.

Deep in the night, the palace was a majestic, imposing sight of red walls and yellow tiles. Chu Yu, having just returned from the Zichen Hall after reporting on the Yong City situation, had barely changed into his formal Crown Prince robes when he was informed that the Empress had arrived.

Eunuch Chen turned pale and dropped to his knees. The Empress entered, surrounded by maids. She looked remarkably youthful and devastatingly beautiful, her features strikingly similar to Chu Yu’s. Her eyes were cold, and her face was a mask of frigid, unreadable authority.

“Leave us,” she commanded.

The doors closed, and she walked over to stand before Chu Yu.

“Kneel,” she ordered. Chu Yu obeyed without hesitation.

She looked down at him, her voice slow and measured: “I thought to grant you your request to leave the palace for your seventeenth birthday to bring you joy, never expecting you to return with such a ‘surprise.'”

She bent down, her long, golden fingernail guards lifting his chin like a blade. “Yu’er, do you know what a price I paid to win over Prime Minister Wang? Closing one eye to the matter of the Wang family in Yong City would have cost you nothing.”

“Are you trying to hand your throne to Chu Sui? Or are you content to let us be trampled underfoot by Consort An and her son for eternity?”

Chu Yu kept his gaze low, his jade ornaments swaying. “I had no such intentions.”

“Then why send the Prime Minister’s family to the capital?”

“Twenty-plus human lives, violated by law. Even if it is the Prime Minister’s family, it cannot be forgiven,” Chu Yu replied calmly. “As Crown Prince, I cannot ignore this.”

“Why not?” the Empress countered. “Twenty, thirty, even forty lives mean nothing compared to the support of the Prime Minister. Taking a favor from him in exchange for the Wang family would have been smart.”

She pressed her palm onto his shoulder. “Nothing—absolutely nothing—is more important than your position as Crown Prince and your future as Emperor. If others don’t understand, surely you do?”

…

“Forget it,” she sighed, her hand moving from his shoulder to stroke his cheek. “I have already pacified the Prime Minister. This incident will not implicate him too deeply. Since the son of the Court of Judicial Review official is ill, you shall have the Prime Minister’s only son serve as your companion instead. I had hoped for the second son of the Shen family, but he refused, so this is the next best thing.”

“Mother…”

“You must hold onto the people around you,” she said, ignoring his interruption. “Only then can you stabilize your position so your father dares not act rashly. When you ascend the throne, who will dare to stop you then? I know this is a grievance for you, Yu’er, but remember: all this humiliation is brought upon you by your father and Consort An—not by me.”