Wen Xun’s teasing that the two of them were like “newlyweds enjoying a brief separation” was not entirely wrong.

Whenever the two of them exchanged a glance, their eyes seemed to trail with threads of longing. Wen Xun’s round face flushed a deep red; he buried his head to finish dinner with them, refused to even drink his tea, and then fled as if pursued by a demon, scampering off at full speed.

After Wen Xun left, Zhuang Xu pulled his lover onto his lap, kissing him from the tips of his hair to his fingertips, as if he could never get enough. Their cheeks pressed against one another as they whispered longings and sweet nothings, until, late into the night, they finally fell into a reluctant sleep in each other’s arms.

The young couple was like two sticky sugar beans that could not be pried apart. When Ye Mian forbade Zhuang Xu from coming to the Hanlin Academy to pick him up after work, Zhuang Xu began calculating the time every day to wait for him at the duty room by the main entrance.

This terrified the duty officers at the gate; never in all these years—let alone officials from the outer court, but even the great masters from the inner court—had anyone ever had to “wait upon” a prince.

The staff at the gatehouse were all on edge, everyone walking on eggshells. People used to jokingly mock them as the “sixth-rank office with third-rank airs,” but now they couldn’t muster any airs at all. Their head porter even carried a cleaning rag tucked into his belt, scrubbing every spot that looked slightly unclean the moment he saw it, yet they were still constantly scolded in shrill, pinched voices by the eunuchs who had followed from the inner court.

Ye Mian was oblivious to all this. Returning to the Princess’s Estate these past few days, he noticed the gate staff smiling at him even more brightly than Zhuang Xu did, and he mistakenly assumed he had charmed them all with his immense charisma.

On the fifth evening, Zhuang Xu sat in the duty room from the beginning of the Shen hour (3:00 PM) until the end of the You hour (7:00 PM).

Seeing the expression on the Prince of Rongnan’s face darken faster than the evening sky, the gate staff didn’t even dare to breathe heavily. The usually bustling gatehouse was now so quiet that even a fly would have had to tiptoe if it flew in.

By the end of the You hour, there was finally some movement outside. Ye Mian’s personal attendant came to pass on a message: the carriage from Bihua Pavilion had arrived to personally pick up the Fourth Young Master, as he was to stay at the pavilion that night for a discussion, so he would not be returning to the estate.

Zhuang Xu rose and returned to the inner court.

Watching the hot teacup shattered into several pieces on the ground, Head Eunuch Xia could only sigh helplessly.

At Bihua Pavilion.

Seeing his brother call for the servants to set a meal in the small study, Ye Mian felt his heart sink and quickly signaled his attendant to go to the Princess’s Estate to pass word.

Ye Jing glanced at him. “Are there needles on that chair? Sit still.”

Ye Mian hurriedly sat up straight. He had seen the moment he entered the study that his older brother was in a foul mood; if he were to talk back or act out now, the national dignity of the Great Wen Dynasty would surely be at stake.

Seeing Ye Mian pouting with unconcealed defiance, Ye Jing lectured, “Now that you have entered the government as an official, stop acting like a child.”

That was true… he was now a Shujishi of the Ye family! Ye Mian immediately straightened his back, lifted his chin slightly, rested his hands on his knees, and put on a solemn, dignified smile.

Ye Jing could barely stand to look at him. He took a long moment to compose himself before asking in detail about his situation at the Hanlin Academy over the past few days.

Ye Mian answered every question seriously.

Ye Jing nodded. “You must be diligent in your studies at the Hanlin Academy, and even more so, you must conduct yourself with integrity and be cautious in your words and actions.”

Ye Mian composed his expression and nodded in agreement.

Only then was Ye Jing satisfied. He reached out and ruffled the back of his younger brother’s head. “Father and I have already made arrangements for your next post during this time. Do you wish to know where it is?”

“Is it the Ministry of Personnel?” Ye Mian asked.

He had caught snippets of a conversation between his father and brother in the study during the New Year.

Ye Jing’s expression softened. “It is the Bureau of Merit Evaluations within the Ministry of Personnel. Do not be as mischievous in the Hanlin Academy as you were before, and do not cause any trouble. After the second half of the year, I will send you to the Ministry of Personnel to observe and learn the ropes of governance.”

Observing governance as a Shujishi in one of the Six Ministries, though arduous at first, allowed one to gain exposure to state affairs early, which would make future retention or promotion within the Ministry much easier.

Ye Mian was surprised. “I can go to the Bureau of Merit Evaluations?”

The Ministry of Personnel was the foremost of the Six Ministries, a place all scholars were desperate to enter.

The Bureau of Merit Evaluations specifically controlled the assessment, promotion, and dismissal of officials across the entire empire. Even the fearless, daring imperial censors were terrified of their triennial “capital assessment.” As for local officials, they trembled at the very mention of the Bureau and scrambled to curry favor. Consequently, it was the department with the most real power among the four offices of the Ministry of Personnel.

Watching his brother, Ye Jing sighed inwardly. Mian-mian was the youngest legitimate son of the family. Birds of a feather flock together; his daily associates were all other youngest or second sons of high-ranking families—a group of true “second-generation” troublemakers who spent their days acting recklessly, wishing they could poke a hole in the sky.

Every time they came home after causing trouble, their fathers and brothers would be furious, hoping only that they would finish their studies so they could be thrown into the toughest, most grinding places to temper their character.

But when it truly came time for that… he, as an older brother, couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Their father, the strict patriarch, had also been half-hearted in his discipline. Years ago, he had been stern with his youngest son, but as Ye Mian grew up, he managed to charm his old father so thoroughly that the father couldn’t bear to talk about sending him off to suffer hardship.

The two had debated for over half a year about where to send Ye Mian. Ye Jing would suggest a department, and their father would shake his head, saying it wasn’t right or wouldn’t do.

Earlier, when they were angry and making threats, they had claimed they would send Ye Mian to the Northwest Gobi Desert to manage the horse administration and force him to fight camels for water. Now, however, they weren’t even at ease keeping him under their noses in the capital, terrified that someone short-sighted might bully him.

In the end, father and son both set their sights on the Bureau of Merit Evaluations.

First, because of the Bureau’s unique function, one didn’t have to take abuse from outsiders. Second, Father’s former superior, Minister Qin, had been transferred two years ago from the Ministry of Revenue to serve as the Minister of Personnel. This Minister Qin had watched Ye Mian grow up and would ensure no one in the Ministry dared to give him a hard time.

Moreover, while his youngest brother was undeniably unruly, he possessed a clever, sensitive heart that others could not match. The Bureau of Merit Evaluations was a place that required social finesse, and it was perfectly suited for Mian-mian.

Ye Mian was not an ungrateful person. After the servants set the dinner, he stood up to rearrange the chopsticks for his brother and served him soup and vegetables.

The appointment of officials to the Bureau of Merit Evaluations had always been personally controlled by Emperor Kangwen. His father and Minister Qin could get him into the Ministry of Personnel, but it would have been impossible for them to shove him into the Bureau of Merit Evaluations.

His brother must have put aside his pride and personally begged for this imperial favor from the Emperor.

Seeing his younger brother’s obedient demeanor, the sternness in Ye Jing’s eyes gradually melted into the warmth of spring.

However, after they had eaten about seven or eight parts full, Ye Jing noticed that the rice in Ye Mian’s bowl was barely touched, and he had only taken a few bites of the dishes served.

“Is it not to your taste?” Ye Jing asked.

“No, I ate too many snacks at the Hanlin Academy during the day.”

Ye Mian’s eyes wandered, and he lowered his head to shovel a few mouthfuls of rice.

Seeing this, how could Ye Jing not understand? His smile vanished instantly; he slammed his chopsticks onto the table and shouted, “Zhuang Xu spoils you without limit! Have you now reached the point where you only recognize fine, exquisite delicacies?”

Ye Mian, seeing the thunderous rage on his brother’s brow, trembled in fear. He couldn’t even manage his usual fawning tactics and sat there frozen, not daring to speak.

Ye Jing rose, his eyes blazing.

That Zhuang Xu was a scoundrel! Mian-mian had always been a bit spoiled, but it had stayed within reasonable limits, common among children of official families. In these past two years, under Zhuang Xu’s limitless indulgence, his very nature was changing!

The more Ye Jing thought, the angrier he became. “Even for a prince or noble, one should still know the taste of common grain! Now, look at you—you crave only the finest prepared meats and refuse common, everyday food. Why on earth did you enter the government to serve as an official? You might as well take off your official robes and be a spendthrift for the rest of your life, letting him feed you dragon liver and phoenix marrow every day! Our Great Wen’s citizens cannot afford to support an official like you!”

Those words were harsh. Ye Mian stood up, his eyes misting over.

Ye Jing paced the room, breathing deeply to dispel his rage.

Zhuang Xu’s mother, Grand Princess Rongyi, had been the apple of the late Emperor and Empress Dowager’s eyes since birth, enjoying the adoration and resources of the entire world, and was raised in complete self-indulgence.

When the Grand Princess gave birth to Zhuang Xu after her marriage, she raised him the same way. Even more so, because they were free from the constraints of court protocol and the oversight of imperial censors, they lived even more extravagantly in Jiangnan than they had in the palace. The Zhuang family was the wealthiest in the Great Wen; they knew no taboos. Zhuang Xu had been raised in extreme luxury, eating and drinking nothing but the most opulent treasures, as if he shouldn’t even have to consume mortal food.

Now that Zhuang Xu was an adult, he used that same method to indulge Ye Mian, and even exceeded it. Dragon liver and phoenix marrow were nothing; the Prince of Rongnan would practically pluck the stars to make a meal or boil the moon into soup just to feed him.

Ye Jing’s face was as cold as ice; clearly, he was enraged to the core. Ye Mian quickly mustered the courage to admit his fault. “Brother, I know I was wrong. I will never dare to be picky with my food again. If I commit this offense again, you can use the family law to beat me! Please, don’t be angry with me…”

Seeing that Ye Mian was scared pale, Ye Jing forced himself to rein in his anger.

The root of the problem wasn’t Ye Mian; he would deal with that scoundrel later!

Ye Jing ordered his attendants to take the cold food back to the kitchen to be reheated.

Ye Mian felt a headache coming on. His brother’s anger toward Zhuang Xu was growing more frequent and more intense. The two of them never accepted one another; they were like two needles clashing, at total odds, living like enemies.

Before the New Year, while he was preparing for the imperial examinations, the two had fought like gamecocks, wishing they could kill each other, which had annoyed Ye Mian to no end.

Fortunately, both were wary of his upcoming exams, so they struck a compromise—Zhuang Xu left the capital to avoid him for two months.

It wasn’t until he had finished the palace examination and was settled as a Shujishi of the Hanlin Academy that Zhuang Xu dared to return to the capital.

And now, Zhuang Xu had only been back for five days… Ye Mian sighed to himself in misery.

When the dinner was reheated and brought back, Ye Mian didn’t dare to put on airs and finished his rice heartily.

Ye Jing also regretted his harsh words toward his brother just now. After the dinner was cleared, he pulled his youngest brother into his arms and comforted him with gentle words, just as he had when Ye Mian was a child.

Ye Jing spoke with heartfelt concern, “Living in a room filled with orchids, one eventually stops smelling the fragrance. Habitual indulgence in luxury makes it hard to return to simplicity. In all things, you must leave yourself a way out.”

Ye Mian nodded and accepted the instruction, though he smirked inwardly. His brother was worried that he would grow accustomed to luxury, and that if Zhuang Xu and he ever broke up, he wouldn’t be able to adapt to a common life.

However, for someone like him who had lived a previous life, he feared his brother—a true-born scion of a high-ranking family—was the one who had “lived in a room filled with orchids.” What kind of simple, hard life hadn’t he lived? Back then, when his monthly allowance ran out, he would have to split a pancake with a classmate, and he couldn’t even afford to add an egg.

Ye Jing remembered one more thing and instructed him, “Tell Zhuang Xu: regarding the supply of goods to the palace, tell him to be cautious and restrained!”

Last winter, while he was tutoring his brother, Ye Mian had taken a few candied olives from his pouch to snack on. After eating one, he complained to Ruan Yunsheng that the flavor wasn’t quite right.

The very next day, Ye Jing saw that same plate of candied olives in the Emperor’s study.

That even the Emperor was now left to pick at his leftovers was nothing short of absurd…

Such taboo behavior was fine for Zhuang Xu, who was a relative of the imperial family, but Ye Jing had to worry about the unpredictability of the Emperor’s heart and how it might eventually implicate Ye Mian.

Now that his brother was grown, he didn’t want to lecture him constantly, but that damned Prince of Rongnan indulged Mian-mian to such an extent that he was terrified just watching it, forcing him to continue playing the role of the strict brother.

It was late into the Xu hour when Ye Mian left Bihua Pavilion. The sound of the night watchman’s clappers had yet to fade, and candles glowed through silk lanterns, casting orbs of light across the stone paths of the flower corridor.

Feng Jin held a sheep-horn lantern to light the way for Ye Mian and whispered, “Master, are we still going to that other place?”

Ye Mian also snuck a glance backward like a thief. Seeing that the four servants from Bihua Pavilion who had escorted him out were already standing still at the hanging flower gate, he gave Feng Jin a look.

“Go!”

“Yes, sir!”

The master and servant put on a show of walking through the moon gate between Bihua Pavilion and the Ye estate, then, in the safety of their own home, clung to the walls and snuck out like night rats.