“Your Highness, such matters cannot be rushed. One can only wait.”
Seeing the unwavering conviction on Su Ruhan’s face, the Third Prince felt the unease in his heart ease somewhat. He studied Su Ruhan for a moment before asking, his tone neither warm nor cold, “Where have you been these past few days?”
Su Ruhan replied truthfully, “It was my master’s birthday. I accompanied my fellow disciples up the mountain to offer our congratulations, and remained there a few extra days to keep him company. Had I known something would happen to Xueshi, I would have returned sooner.”
A trace of guilt surfaced in his expression.
“I, too, have not visited the old master in quite some time…” the Third Prince said quietly.
Su Ruhan glanced at him, finding today’s Third Prince strangely different from usual. Unbidden, his thoughts drifted to the days he had spent living with Mu Xueshi in Linhan Palace. Though Mu Xueshi often acted impulsively and spoke without restraint, he was by no means a reckless man. More often than not, he was reasonable and understanding.
Thinking of the times he had been unnecessarily harsh, Su Ruhan could not help but feel a flicker of regret.
Just then, two figures came running toward them, breaking his reverie.
“Third Prince, something terrible has happened—!”
A dark-faced, middle-aged guard rushed forward, breathless. Upon seeing the prince, he immediately knelt in salute.
The Third Prince’s expression remained unchanged, his gaze cold as he looked down at the man.
Another guard hurried to continue, “Your Highness, several hundred elite soldiers from Lubei have stormed into the courtyard. They claim to bear an imperial decree and intend to demolish Linhan Palace.”
Su Ruhan’s expression sharpened as he instinctively turned to look at the Third Prince.
The prince’s face remained calm. With a mere wave of his hand, he dismissed the two men.
“Stay here and keep watch over Mu Xueshi. I will go to Taihe Hall,” the Third Prince said.
Su Ruhan hesitated, then spoke, “Your Highness, allow me to go to Linhan Palace and deal with them. I am no longer your guard—my actions will not implicate you. I will also arrange for others to protect Mu Xueshi. There will be no mishap—”
“No need.”
The Third Prince’s voice was icy.
“This matter does not require your interference. Watch over Xueshi.”
With that, his figure vanished into the forest.
“Why does this place feel so eerie…”
Princess Wenyang rubbed her arms, her delicate face tinged with unease.
Zhang Mu bowed respectfully. “Such a place is unfit for Your Highness. It is damp and cold—easily inviting illness. Perhaps it would be better if I had someone escort you back. Should Your Highness wish to visit again, another day—”
“How dare you!”
Princess Wenyang shot him a sharp glance, her expression proud and imperious.
“Where I go is not for a servant to decide. Lead the way. If anything happens, I need only mention it to my imperial brother to spare your lives.”
Zhang Mu dared not argue further. He quietly assigned more guards to ensure her safety.
As they walked, Princess Wenyang could not help but glance around. This was the Third Prince’s private courtyard. Though she had visited once before, she had seen little. This time, she had come unannounced.
She wondered what expression he would wear upon seeing her.
At the thought of the Third Prince, her cheeks flushed faintly. Her heart fluttered with both anticipation and nervousness. That night at the lantern festival, she had been dressed as a commoner—surely he had not seen her clearly then…
“Ah—!!!”
A sudden scream shattered the stillness of Linhan Palace.
Zhang Mu turned sharply to see Princess Wenyang’s face drained of color.
“What is it, Your Highness?”
Her body trembled violently as she pointed toward the ground, her voice quivering, “H-help me… something is… wrapped around my foot…”
The maids behind her gasped and instinctively stepped back.
In the dim light, Zhang Mu could not see clearly. He crouched down—and discovered a small snake coiled around her ankle.
Strangely, the creature neither moved nor bit.
“Your Highness, do not be afraid. It is only a snake—”
“Ahhh—!!!”
At the mere mention of the word, Princess Wenyang shrieked again.
Zhang Mu sighed inwardly, quickly removing the snake and examining it briefly. The princess, seeing it in his hand, nearly fainted—her legs shaking uncontrollably as cold sweat ran down her face.
Her maids hurried to support her.
Zhang Mu’s expression grew complicated, but he still tossed the snake aside.
Princess Wenyang refused to walk another step. With no sedan chair brought in, someone had to carry her. After much deliberation, she chose Zhang Mu.
Clinging to his shoulder, she continued to gasp, still shaken.
“Why did my imperial brother insist on building the palace bestowed upon me in such a dreadful place? The environment is terrible—and it’s so far from the Third Prince’s palace…”
Zhang Mu thought carefully before replying, “This palace was originally built by the Third Prince for his late mother. Now that she has passed, rebuilding Your Highness’s residence here only serves to reflect that your status is equal to hers.”
Princess Wenyang felt a trace of satisfaction, though her tone remained displeased.
“And if it were built elsewhere, would my status be inferior to his mother’s?”
“Of course not,” Zhang Mu said cautiously. “Your Highness is already of unmatched nobility in Lubei. Should you remain here in the future, you will surely stand at the pinnacle of the inner palace.”
Smack!
Princess Wenyang suddenly struck his shoulder, feigning anger.
“Who said I would marry the Third Prince? How dare you tarnish my virtue!”
She extended her hand to a maid. “Blow on it—it hurts! It’s all your fault. I’ll punish you when we return!”
Zhang Mu inwardly rolled his eyes. He had never said she would marry the Third Prince—it was her own imagination at work.
Still, he replied as if chanting scripture, “Your Highness must not anger yourself. If harm comes to your health, even ten thousand of your servants could not atone for it.”
Princess Wenyang was no longer listening. She was lost in thought.
If the Emperor had decreed a palace to be built here… did that not imply a marriage alliance? If the Third Prince ascended the throne one day, and she became Empress… surely she would not remain in such a place.
By the time the Third Prince arrived at Taihe Hall, the Emperor was playing chess with Emperor Hao Lin. A eunuch entered to announce his arrival.
Reluctantly, the Emperor cast an apologetic glance at his guest.
“Think nothing of it,” Emperor Hao Lin said gently. “Since the Third Prince seeks Your Majesty, it must be urgent. Please attend to state matters—I shall remain here and enjoy some tea.”
“Very well. Please rest a while, Your Majesty. I shall return shortly.”
The Emperor rose and strode toward the entrance.
As the gilded doors opened, Emperor Hao Lin’s gaze followed—and through the narrow gap, he saw the Third Prince’s face.
Their eyes met.
Emperor Hao Lin smiled.
The Third Prince remained as cold as frost.
“Lu Jue, I was just about to summon you. You are aware of the matter concerning Linhan Palace, I presume?”
“I have heard something of it,” the Third Prince replied evenly.
The Emperor stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Lu Jue, I know Linhan Palace was built for your mother. But now that Consort Mu has passed, and her tomb lies elsewhere, the palace serves no purpose—it is but an abandoned residence.”
“And what does Father intend to use it for?” the Third Prince asked calmly.
The Emperor sensed the faint defiance beneath that calm gaze, yet dismissed it.
“This was Princess Wenyang’s request. Knowing you dislike disturbance, she chose Linhan Palace, far from your residence. In this way, she may remain close to you without overstepping propriety.”
“How thoughtful of her,” the Third Prince said with a faint, cold laugh.
The Emperor’s expression turned solemn.
“Lu Jue, you understand my intentions. Tomorrow, I shall issue a decree betrothing Princess Wenyang to you. This can hardly be called forcing your hand.”
“How could it be?” the Third Prince replied indifferently. “Whether I take a consort or not is of no consequence. I shall abide by Father’s will.”
The Emperor looked pleased.
After a moment, he studied his son more closely. “You seem unwell. Are you in poor health of late?”
He reached out to touch his face.
The Third Prince subtly stepped aside, avoiding the gesture.
“If Father has no other matters, this son will take his leave.”
The Emperor paused, then suddenly remembered something.
“I have spoken at length, yet have not asked—what brings you here today?”
The Third Prince met his gaze, his eyes utterly still.
“I merely wished to know what Linhan Palace would be used for.”
With that, he bowed and withdrew.
As he turned, he cast one final glance at the Emperor.
That single look caused the Emperor’s chest to tighten.
Yet when he looked again, the Third Prince’s gaze was calm as water—so much so that the bone-chilling cold from before seemed nothing more than an illusion.
Futile Devices Scans 
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