Jiang Ruotang had played a round of badminton with Lu Guifan over the weekend. He hadn’t exercised in so long that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, not even setting his phone alarm.

Who would have thought—when he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on an antique bed. No, wait… this should be called a couch or daybed (榻).

Several women dressed in ancient-style clothing stood beside the couch, heads lowered. Upon hearing his stirring, one of them softly called out, “Your Highness,” and came over to help him dress.

“Aunt Juan? You… what are you doing here?” Jiang Ruotang was stunned.

After quite a bit of confusion, he realized this wasn’t a cosplay shoot, nor a big group photoshoot, but that he had somehow mysteriously become the “Crown Prince” of some royal family.

“There’s a good thing like this? I actually have a throne to inherit now?”

Jiang Ruotang was about to pinch his thigh to see if it was a dream—but then thought, what if it really hurt?

“You there, bring me… a coin!” he said, mimicking the lines from a historical drama.

“Coin?” Aunt Juan looked at him in confusion. “May I ask, Your Highness, what is that?”

“Copper cash. Bring me one coin.” Jiang Ruotang scratched his chin and thought, Man, talking like this is tiring.

Soon, Aunt Juan brought a copper coin to him. Jiang Ruotang sat up and began spinning it on the table.

If it topples after two spins, it means I’ve time-traveled.

If it keeps spinning, then I must be dreaming…

The coin spun and spun. Jiang Ruotang watched until he got sleepy again. Guess this must be a dream, no doubt.

Since it’s a dream, he let go of his worries. Might as well enjoy the feeling of being a Crown Prince!

Just then, a familiar and intimate voice came from outside the door.

“Your Highness! You’re still not up? Didn’t you say we’d go listen to Mr. Wang’s lecture together today?”

It was Lin Lu’s voice—of course, even in a dream, he’d be right next to him.

It was said that Lin Lu was his most favored study companion.

Jiang Ruotang pressed down the spinning coin and sighed softly. “Even as Crown Prince I can’t escape your nagging.”

Lin Lu affectionately took the waistband from the attendant and helped Jiang Ruotang tie it on with a smile.

“Your Highness, let’s hurry. If we’re late, we won’t get front-row seats to see Bai Yingchuan.”

“Huh?”

“What’s with you? Weren’t you the one who said Young Master Bai was elegant and handsome, and lives rent-free in your heart?”

“Huh?” Jiang Ruotang was still confused.

Lin Lu pulled Jiang Ruotang onto the carriage with a laugh. As they left the palace, Lin Lu chattered on nonstop, praising several scholars taking the imperial exam this year—clearly the protégés of his father, Minister of Revenue Lin Chengdong.

Jiang Ruotang nodded absentmindedly, but his mind was on something else: Where’s Lu Guifan?

Surely, if Aunt Juan and Lin Lu appeared in his dream, Lu Guifan would too? Otherwise, this dream’s really not worth it!

Jiang Ruotang lifted the curtain of the carriage and looked out at the movie-set-like scenery—the ancient streets and bustling vendors—and suddenly felt a bit bored.

Just then, a tall, elegant figure in a plain long robe walked past the carriage, carrying a wooden trunk—clearly a scholar rushing to the capital for the exam.

Jiang Ruotang’s eyes lit up, and he shouted, “Stop the carriage!” Without waiting for Lin Lu to grab his sleeve, he jumped off the carriage and ran after that familiar figure.

A few guards in plainclothes followed quickly, but Jiang Ruotang slipped through the crowd like a loach. Despite the guards’ cries of “Young master, be careful!” and “Slow down!”, they still lost sight of him.

Jiang Ruotang finally caught up to Lu Guifan. He wanted to call out to him—but then realized Lu Guifan probably didn’t know him here. Approaching rashly might make him look like some spoiled noble trying to latch onto a poor scholar.

So he quietly followed from a distance. Luckily, Aunt Juan had given him some small silver. Jiang Ruotang trailed after Lu Guifan while snacking—sugar-coated hawthorn, sugar flowers, steamed pastries—he ate all along the way until he figured out where Lu Guifan was staying.

It was a so-called “Guild Hall for Fellow Provincials,” bustling with young scholars. As Lu Guifan entered, the registrar muttered under his breath, “Another penniless lad.”

In truth, the quotas had already been pre-assigned by officials. Even if a regular scholar scored well, he’d be given a minor post at best—real opportunities were as rare as pies falling from the sky.

Jiang Ruotang stopped at the entrance and called the registrar over.

At first, the man looked annoyed, but when he saw Jiang Ruotang’s expensive attire, his expression changed instantly, and he approached with a fawning smile.

“Did young master call me? Do you have an instruction?”

Jiang Ruotang lifted his chin and asked, “That name card you were just handed—what name was on it?”

“Ah, if I recall correctly, it was… Lu… something. So many candidates coming and going, I truly can’t remember them all.”

“Lu Guifan?”

“Yes yes yes, that’s it—Lu Guifan. May I ask how young master knows him?”

Jiang Ruotang replied flatly, “He and I go way back. Take care of him for me.”

Then he pulled out a pouch of money and shook it lightly in front of the man.

The moment the registrar saw the exquisite embroidery on the pouch, his eyes sparkled, fully convinced Jiang Ruotang must be a powerful noble.

He even dropped his usual humble “your servant” and began referring to himself with a lower status title.

“You, Wang Er—this silver is yours. But you must do something for me.”

“Whatever the young master commands!”

“That Lu fellow—make sure he eats well. Meat and vegetables every meal, with small plates before the main course.”

“I’ll remember it all!” Wang Er nodded frantically.

“His lodging must be comfortable too. Soft bedding, warm blankets. He’ll definitely study late into the night, so—”

“Of course!”

“Scholars are competitive. If anyone bullies him—”

“I’ll keep my eyes wide open. I won’t let anyone mess with that gentleman!”

“Smart man!” Jiang Ruotang nodded in satisfaction. “If you handle this well, once the exam results are out—regardless of whether he passes—I’ll give you an additional reward.”

Wang Er nodded like a bobblehead. “Don’t worry, young master! I’ll take care of him perfectly!”

Jiang Ruotang chuckled. “I like how sharp you are!”

“May I know your name, young master?”

Jiang Ruotang raised his finger meaningfully and pointed upward. Wang Er followed his gaze and saw only drifting clouds in the sky.

Having managed this guild hall for years, Wang Er instantly understood. Many nobles preferred to stay anonymous. That gesture clearly meant: My identity is beyond your imagination.

After giving his instructions, Jiang Ruotang took a good look around the guild hall, memorized the layout, then leisurely made his way back to the main street.

He had a bowl of wontons by the roadside, listened to a storyteller for a bit, and was finally found by the palace guards.

Back in the carriage, he faced an anxious Lin Lu.

“Your Highness, where on earth did you run off to? I was worried sick!”

Jiang Ruotang leaned his chin on his hand and teased, “You didn’t even get off the carriage to find me, just sat in here worrying? Not buying it.”

Lin Lu was at a loss for words, his face paling slightly.

He’d always relied on the fact that he and Jiang Ruotang grew up together—that he was the Crown Prince’s closest and most trusted companion. But over time, he’d begun to take some things for granted.

“Y-Your Highness…” Lin Lu scrambled to come up with an excuse.

Jiang Ruotang leaned back with a sly grin. “Look at you, all flustered.”

Lin Lu finally realized Jiang Ruotang was joking. “You scared me!”

“Alright, I’ve eaten well, had my fun—let’s go back to the palace.”

“Just go back? Aren’t we going to see Young Master Bai?”

“Aren’t we already late?”

“But you’re the Crown Prince! Just reveal your identity and you’ll get the best seat.”

“But I want to sit comfortably—on my own throne back in the palace.”

“But Bai Gongzi… You’ve dreamed about him day and night, collected so many of his calligraphy and paintings. You even sneaked out of the palace and had someone paint his portrait to hang in your bedchamber! You’re just going to skip seeing him now?”

Jiang Ruotang froze. “Me? Commissioned someone to paint him? Hung it in my bedroom?”

What kind of brain-dead thing is that?!

He wanted to press his temples and scream.

“Return to the palace! Quick!”

Lin Lu was still stunned by Jiang Ruotang’s reaction.

Once back, Jiang Ruotang ordered all of Bai Yingchuan’s paintings to be brought to him.

Looking at over a dozen scrolls, Jiang Ruotang nearly fainted. He immediately ordered them burned.

Aunt Juan asked curiously, “Your Highness, these were painted by renowned artists at your request…”

“I’m sure those artists will produce more masterpieces in the future.”

“What about these calligraphy and paintings? Are we burning them too?”

Destroying another man’s published works would definitely be improper.

Jiang Ruotang thought for a moment and turned to the palace attendants. “Anyone here who appreciates Young Master Bai’s talent, feel free to take these and split them among yourselves.”

The attendants didn’t dare move. What if the prince changed his mind after they took them? Or worse—punished them?

Jiang Ruotang shook his head and sighed. “Aunt Juan, if no one wants them, you handle it.”

Aunt Juan asked, “The prince is bestowing rewards—do you all truly not want them?”

Only then did a few palace maids step forward, somewhat apprehensively taking the scrolls and paintings away.

Jiang Ruotang stretched lazily with satisfaction, then beckoned Aunt Juan over. She smiled and leaned in close. “What would Your Highness like to instruct?”

Jiang Ruotang told her about Lu Guifan, instructing her to send someone to the provincial hall every few days to check on things, lest that Wang Er take the money and not do the job.

Aunt Juan didn’t ask too much and nodded, silently keeping the prince’s words in mind.

As for Lu Guifan, after he arrived at the hall, he was assigned to a room shared with several other examinees. They all introduced themselves, praising one another. Lu Guifan simply gave his name and place of origin, yet was immediately surrounded.

Lu Guifan had a small reputation locally. His writing style was rigorous and somewhat sharp, but unfortunately, due to his impoverished background and lack of social maneuvering, he never secured patronage.

Once they heard his name, the others lavished him with compliments like “Long admired your name,” “Brother Lu’s talent is unmatched,” and “He’s the prized disciple of Master Song,” and so on. But after all the flattery, they began discussing how exams really required connections. Many of them, they said, were under Minister Lin’s wing, who might soon become Chief Minister.

They even arranged to visit Lin Chengdong’s estate and discussed what kind of gifts to bring. As they talked, they kept sneaking glances at Lu Guifan and exchanged mocking smirks, thinking he was just a poor scholar—showing up in coarse clothes, surely doomed to return home empty-handed.

Lu Guifan showed no change in expression. He quietly unpacked his things, looked around at the accommodations, and wondered whether there’d be enough oil lamps to study by that night.

Just then, Steward Wang arrived, beaming, and personally took Lu Guifan’s baggage while a young servant picked up his chest.

“Master Lu, terribly sorry. This isn’t your room. The staff made a mistake and brought you to the wrong place.”

If a servant had come to say this, Lu Guifan wouldn’t have thought much of it.

But for the high-and-mighty steward to personally come, and so courteously? That was suspicious.

Before Lu Guifan could speak, Steward Wang explained, “Another examinee was difficult to place, so we must inconvenience you a little.”

Hearing this, the others lost interest. So it was just to make room for someone else, and Steward Wang had come in person merely to avoid making Lu Guifan feel slighted.

Once Lu Guifan was gone, the group huddled again.

“Where do you think he’s being moved to?”

“If it’s worse than this room, probably the woodshed!”

“We were gonna take him to Minister Lin’s residence—maybe the minister would’ve seen us!”

“Don’t joke! With his gloomy face and stiff silence, he might’ve offended the minister instead!”

Wang led Lu Guifan to a quiet place. There was even a small courtyard in front of the room, quaint and refined.

When the door opened, it was a private room.

Lu Guifan hesitated at the door, but Steward Wang and the servant had already moved his things inside.

Seeing Lu Guifan unmoving, the steward spoke gently, “Master Lu, you have genuine talent. Don’t waste time—focus on your studies. Better to stay here quietly than get distracted by those others. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I can’t afford such accommodations,” Lu Guifan replied frankly.

“I never asked you for money,” said the steward with a smile. “This place is vacant anyway. Would you really go back there just to be pestered with questions? The purpose of this hall is to ease scholars’ burdens—especially those as talented as yourself.”

Lu Guifan had no good reason to refuse. Since he now had to follow the arrangements of whoever sponsored the hall, he agreed to stay.

It was indeed peaceful. But after just one day, Lu Guifan noticed something strange.

For instance, the tea he drank was premium-grade spring Longjing. Meals, though modest in portion, were exquisitely prepared. His bedding was luxuriously soft. He had tried to borrow some books from the bookstore, but they were all checked out by other examinees. That very night, Steward Wang delivered the titles he wanted.

Ink, brushes, paper, and inkstones—all top-quality. Even someone like Lu Guifan, who had no taste for luxury, couldn’t help admiring the fine brushes.

Still, Lu Guifan told the steward, “I have done nothing to deserve such treatment. If there’s someone behind this, and you cannot reveal their name, then I must leave this place. I’d rather sleep on the streets than accept kindness without cause.”

But Steward Wang had already been coached by Jiang Ruotang. He smiled and said, “Yes, a gentleman did request we take care of you. He admires your talent. He won’t expect anything in return, nor will he ask you to do anything against your conscience if you succeed in the exams. It’s just that he, due to unfortunate circumstances, can never sit for the civil exams again. Because he deeply admires your learning, he only wishes to offer you a peaceful place to study.”

Technically, this wasn’t a lie. As the Crown Prince, Jiang Ruotang wasn’t expected to take the imperial exam anyway.

Lu Guifan sighed and was about to say something when the steward had a servant bring out a scroll.

“If Master Lu wishes to show thanks, would you perhaps write a poem for this gentleman’s painting?”

The scroll unfurled—mountains and rivers filled the canvas, with flowing brushstrokes and a melancholy air.

Lu Guifan was moved. He stood before it for a long time, then softly said, “A fine painting.”

The steward ground ink and handed him a brush. “Would you care to compose a verse?”

Lu Guifan thought long and hard. He was afraid a poor poem would ruin the painting’s mood. But after a long time, a fitting emotion came to him. In a blank space on the scroll, he inscribed a poem.

Once the ink dried, the steward carefully rolled up the painting.

As the sun set, behind the hall, Steward Wang handed the scroll to a veiled woman. She thanked him, rewarded him with some silver, and then boarded a carriage.

Steward Wang let out a long sigh, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and thought, So it really was someone from the palace! No wonder that young master pointed to the sky!

Back at the palace, Jiang Ruotang was pacing his chamber, unable to sleep.

The moment he saw Aunt Juan return, his eyes lit up. “Did he write something?”

“He did, he did! Please be patient, Your Highness!”

A palace maid unfurled the scroll in front of Jiang Ruotang. He immediately stepped in front of the poem, holding a candle. Too close and it might burn, too far and he couldn’t see clearly.

“His handwriting is beautiful,” Jiang Ruotang said admiringly.

Aunt Juan added, “If Your Highness says so, then it must be.”

“And the poem! Bold and vigorous, with heroic spirit!” Jiang Ruotang searched his vocabulary and came up with that much.

“Shall we hang it up?” she asked.

Jiang Ruotang sighed. “Better to store it carefully. Deliver it tomorrow to Grand Councilor Qin’s estate. He’ll surely ask where the poem came from.”

Lin Chengdong had to be made aware that Lu Guifan’s talent was now in the sights of senior court officials. With Qin’s influence, Lin wouldn’t dare lay a hand on Lu Guifan.

In the following days, Lu Guifan lived peacefully in his secluded courtyard, fully immersed in his studies.

One evening after dinner, Steward Wang arrived with a food box, smiling warmly.

“Master Lu, you’ve studied hard—here are some snacks in case you get hungry later.”

It was a lacquered box, far more refined than the regular meal containers. Several delicate desserts were laid out on the table.

Then Steward Wang placed several books on the table. “I don’t know if these are useful, but they’re by some prominent scholars—perhaps you’ll find them insightful.”

Lu Guifan opened one and was a little surprised. These weren’t well-known books, but they were elegantly written and rich in meaning.

“Steward Wang… these are also from that gentleman?”

Wang smiled. “Scholars often befriend one another through books.”

Lu Guifan exhaled softly. Had he not seen that man’s painting and sensed his noble spirit, he wouldn’t have dared accept any of this.

But friendship between gentlemen ought not be judged through wealth.

“Wait a moment,” Lu Guifan said. “I’ll write a thank-you note.”

He didn’t call him a noble because of status, but because he admired the character shown in that painting.

He wrote a short letter, brief but heartfelt, and sealed it in an envelope, handing it to Steward Wang.

Wang later delivered both the lacquered box and the letter through the back gate to Aunt Juan.

When Jiang Ruotang received Lu Guifan’s handwritten note, he almost jumped up with excitement.

He opened the envelope carefully and asked Aunt Juan, “Look, isn’t his handwriting just…”

“Master Lu’s calligraphy is upright with a touch of elegance, precise yet detailed—truly lovely,” Aunt Juan replied knowingly.

Jiang Ruotang beamed. Should I write him back? he wondered.

But his own calligraphy… better not. Too embarrassing.

Maybe I’ll send another painting instead!

But what to paint?

He tilted his head in thought, then said, “Aunt Juan, do we have any crabapple trees in the palace? Preferably weeping crabapples.”

“Yes, of course, Your Highness—there’s nothing the palace doesn’t have.”

Though it was nearly midnight, Jiang Ruotang was bursting with energy. By the light of a lantern, he began painting from the blooming crabapple tree.