The door has been locked.

Moonlight streamed through the latticed windows of the Heart-Calming Tower, scattering silver frost across the floor.

Gu Chengyin sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his eyes slightly closed, his breaths long and steady.

He had fully mastered his Dao heart, now able not only to completely conceal his true thoughts, but also, when necessary, to emit precisely calibrated waves of intention, allowing Lin Qingyan to see only what he wished her to see.

This undoubtedly added an immense layer of security for him.

The tower fell silent. Just then, Gu Chengyin suddenly opened his eyes.

The tower door was pushed open. Lin Qingyan stood in the doorway.

Moonlight poured in from behind her, tracing her silhouette with a silver edge.

She stood there, gazing at the man on the cushion who was now looking back at her.

Their eyes met.

In that instant, the tangled knot of confusion in Lin Qingyan’s heart vanished like smoke.

She closed the distance in three quick strides, almost throwing herself forward.

Gu Chengyin caught a whiff of fragrant wind, and in the next moment, there was a person in his arms.

Lin Qingyan burrowed into the crook of his neck like a spoiled cat, rubbing and nuzzling, again and again.

Forget Luo Zhao.

Forget all the nonsense.

To hell with it all.

As long as Gu Chengyin was in the Heart-Calming Tower, he belonged to her—Lin Qingyan.

No one was going to take him away, and nobody was allowed to covet him.

If they really provoked her, she’d just flip the table.

Let’s see whose fists were tougher.

Gu Chengyin looked down at the head nuzzling against him and blinked.

He tested a hesitant address: “Little Aunt?”

At the sound, Lin Qingyan’s movements froze.

Then she lifted her head.

Moonlight fell across her exquisite face, which bore a sixty-percent resemblance to Luo Zhao.

At this moment, there was no trace of cold aloofness—only an indescribable, blazing intensity.

Without a word, she closed in suddenly and pressed her lips directly against Gu Chengyin’s.

The kiss was as sudden as it was fervent, catching even Gu Chengyin off guard.

Lin Qingyan wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, as if channeling every emotion into that kiss.

As if proving to someone—this man was hers now.

It took a long while before she reluctantly pulled away.

When their lips parted, her eyes shimmered with watery light, and her voice sounded like a coaxing plea:

“Chengcheng, Lyu Fang came by just now.”

Gu Chengyin pulled his thoughts back from the abrupt kiss as his reason slowly returned.

At the name of that chief eunuch, he asked, “Did he come with an imperial edict, or a verbal decree?”

“A verbal decree.”

Lin Qingyan buried her face back into his neck and repeated the content of the decree.

It was late now; the formal tribunal would begin tomorrow.

After hearing the decree, Gu Chengyin arched an eyebrow. “They’re making it quite official.”

Lin Qingyan lifted her head again from his embrace, scrutinizing his expression carefully.

That handsome face bore no panic, no anxiety, not a trace of unease—only a calm indifference, as though he had just heard something amusing.

“Chengcheng,” she couldn’t help asking, “aren’t you worried?”

Gu Chengyin looked at her with a hint of puzzlement and countered, “It’s just a joint trial by the Three Ministries. What’s there to worry about?”

“But this does feel like His Majesty’s handiwork.”

At these words, a flicker of brilliance lit up Lin Qingyan’s eyes.

Although Gu Chengyin still hadn’t directly called out Luo Zhao by name, when he mentioned the Luo Emperor, his tone was completely nonchalant—as if even if the emperor himself stepped into the arena, he would handle it with ease.

But the light only shone for a moment before it was suppressed.

Lin Qingyan lowered her eyes and burrowed back into Gu Chengyin’s neck.

Should she tell him?

Should she tell Gu Chengyin about her conversation with Luo Zhao?

Should she tell Gu Chengyin that the mastermind behind everything was neither the Luo Emperor nor Cui Shifan?

But rather the crown prince, who was trying to pull her husband—his own tutor—down from his position?

Lin Qingyan was torn, her mental scales swinging back and forth.

If she told him,

Gu Chengyin would definitely turn his spear around. It wouldn’t even take much effort.

He could destroy all of Luo Zhao’s carefully laid plans and even turn the tables on her.

After all, because of Lin Qingyan, Gu Chengyin could neither flee nor ally with the Second Prince.

That meant he would go all out against Luo Zhao, then, within controllable limits,

teach her a lesson—let her understand, deeply, why Gu Chengyin was her tutor.

Lin Qingyan could almost picture it.

Luo Zhao, cornered step by step by Gu Chengyin, every one of her schemes exposed, every mask torn off.

In the end, she would have no choice but to run crying to the Luo Emperor, just like a little kid running to their parents after getting bullied.

The image was so perfect, so beautiful, that Lin Qingyan almost wanted to laugh.

But if she didn’t tell him...

Lin Qingyan quietly lifted her eyes to look at Gu Chengyin.

On that face, there was no anxiety, no worry—still that calm, carefree expression.

At the joint trial by the Three Departments, in his eyes, seemed like nothing more than a trivial matter.

To be honest, Lin Qingyan truly didn’t think anything serious would happen to Gu Chengyin.

With her around, his life was definitely safe.

Even if the Luo Emperor issued an edict, he couldn’t harm a single hair on Gu Chengyin’s head.

Instead, it would only anger Lin Qingyan and lead to the entire palace being smashed to pieces.

As for everything else, just look at Gu Chengyin’s attitude now.

He didn’t care at all—didn’t even take it seriously.

Would a man like him be stumped by a joint trial?

Would he be brought down by Luo Zhao’s petty tricks?

Lin Qingyan already had an answer in her heart.

The hesitation she had felt outside the crown prince’s bedchamber moments ago had completely vanished.

In the end, Lin Qingyan decided to hold off for now.

She would wait and see how Gu Chengyin would handle it.

If he managed it with ease, without any pressure,

then she would still help Luo Zhao a little—after all, she was her sister’s daughter.

Keeping it quiet, offering some protection, was neither excessive nor treasonous.

It could simply be seen as a niece having a spat with her uncle.

But if Gu Chengyin couldn’t handle it,

Lin Qingyan’s gaze sharpened—then she would protect Gu Chengyin first.

The crown prince, her niece, her sister’s daughter—all of them,

She would protect him first.

She would even drag Luo Zhao over and force her to bow her head and apologize to Gu Chengyin.

Thinking this way, Lin Qingyan’s heart gradually settled.

Moonlight fell quietly, merging the shadows of the two together.

Gu Chengyin didn’t say anything, even though Lin Qingyan had been gone a while.

Clearly, it had been more than just passing on an oral decree from Lyu Fang—she had likely been somewhere else.

But he didn’t mind. At least for now, Lin Qingyan was completely on his side.

A wise man gives trust when trust is due,

instead of being suspicious all the time and causing cracks in a solid relationship.

Just then, a muffled voice suddenly came from his embrace.

“Chengcheng.”

Lin Qingyan did not lift her head, her face still buried in the hollow of his neck.

Yet her voice carried a faint trace of ambiguity.

“The door is already locked.”