Learned It

But the moment she said it, the corners of Shangguan Yunying’s mouth curled up, rising so high she couldn’t press them down no matter how hard she tried.

She nervously glanced around—to her left, a corridor pillar; to her right, a threshold; ahead, an empty courtyard.

No one heard.

If no one heard, it was as good as never having been said.

Shangguan Yunying let out a breath of relief, then quietly spat.

Even softer than before, so soft that only her lips moved, making no sound at all.

Then she took a deep breath, forcing the heat still burning on her face to cool bit by bit.

She gradually pulled back the corners of her mouth, that stubborn curve that refused to fade.

She straightened her spine, smoothed her lapels, and adjusted her hair bun.

When she lifted her head again, she had already regained the demeanor befitting the First Lady of the Court.

Only the light kindling deep in her eyes betrayed her.

Shangguan Yunying stepped forward and followed Gu Chengyin into the main hall.

Inside the hall, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the latticed window frames, casting a warm, golden glow across the brick floor.

Luo Zhao sat in the seat of honor, dressed in the formal black robes of a Crown Princess, her golden crown perfectly set atop her bun.

Her face was calm, her features serene, like a finely carved jade statue.

Her gaze landed on Gu Chengyin as he entered through the hall’s entrance.

She didn’t speak, only nodded slightly.

On the left, in the guest seat of honor, sat one person.

Cui Shifan.

Senior Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, Head of the Qinghe Cui Clan.

Today, he wore a simple dark brown robe, without his court attire.

He had no official hat, looking just like an ordinary old gentleman.

As Gu Chengyin stepped in, Cui Shifan’s eyes met his.

Briefly, so briefly—only the span of a single breath.

But the weight hidden in that glance was heavier than all the court memorials and dialogues of a full year’s governance.

It wasn’t hostility, nor was it testing.

More like an old chess master watching another player enter the room.

Knowing the game ahead wouldn’t be easy, but not impossible, either—a calm, measured recognition.

After all, Cui Shifan had arrived long ago, but neither he nor Luo Zhao had yet turned the conversation to matters of substance.

They were waiting. Waiting for Gu Chengyin to return.

And now, Gu Chengyin was back.

Only then did this confrontation truly begin.

After exchanging that glance with Cui Shifan, Gu Chengyin smiled.

His smile bloomed without warning, like flowers bursting open overnight in spring—so dazzling it made eyes widen.

His entire face radiated the surprise of reuniting with an old friend after years apart.

His eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched into the widest grin possible.

He seemed to glow from within, the light making even the color of his robes appear brighter.

Gu Chengyin extended his hand and strode quickly toward Cui Shifan.

His steps were fast and long, stirring the air so that the tea’s surface in the cup on the table rippled in faint circles.

“Ah!”

Gu Chengyin’s voice echoed through the hall, loud and warm, carrying a gaiety impossible to refuse:

“If it isn’t my old elder brother!”

At that moment, Cui Shifan was drinking tea—or rather, he had just raised the cup to his lips.

He intended to take a sip, buying himself an excuse not to respond immediately.

But Gu Chengyin’s outburst made his hand tremble.

The tea cup swayed near his lips, and a few drops splashed onto his chin.

Cui Shifan didn’t choke—his decades of experience in court gave him composure far beyond being startled by a mere shout.

But his hand did shake. Not from fear, but from a physiological reaction to such wildly unconventional friendliness.

Like walking a smooth road and suddenly stumbling over an extra step.

You wouldn’t fall, but you’d stumble for an instant.

Yet Cui Shifan reacted quickly.

So quickly that by the time he set down the teacup, his startled expression had already switched to one of equal delight.

He shot up from his seat, moving three times faster than usual—faster than a man his age had any right to be.

A radiant smile spread across his face, wrinkles gathering around his eyes.

His whole face seemed pulled taut by invisible hands from both sides, stretched smooth and free of any reluctance.

The next moment, a young hand and an old one clasped tightly together.

Gu Chengyin’s hand was long and strong, with distinct knuckles.

Cui Shifan’s hand was wrinkled and thin, with protruding veins.

But when their hands met, it was like a green vine entwining itself around an old tree.

Bound tightly, impossible to tell who held tighter or who would let go first.

“Junior Preceptor Gu! It has truly been a long time!”

Cui Shifan’s voice dripped with profound sincerity, every word steeped in emotion.

Gu Chengyin tightened his grip on Cui Shifan’s hand a little more.

Pretending to look him over with surprise, he remarked:

“Let me have a good look at you… Ah! Pavilion Elder Cui, how you’ve thinned! The cares of state affairs have worn you down!”

Luo Zhao sat in the seat of honor, watching this ‘reunion of old friends’ unfold.

Her expression shifted, from ‘You’re finally here’ when Gu Chengyin entered, to ‘What are you doing?’

Then from ‘What are you doing’ to ‘I don’t know this person.’

Finally, it settled into an expression that clearly said, ‘Why on earth is this man my Royal Tutor?’

The corner of Luo Zhao’s mouth twitched once, and then it twitched twice more.

Finally, she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side.

She took a deep breath, but on her beautiful face, the words “too shameful to behold” were practically written in bold letters.

Shangguan Yunying, meanwhile, kept her head down as she walked past Gu Chengyin and Cui Shifan.

Her steps were steady, her back straight, her expression calm.

As if this scene was nothing more than an ordinary day at court in her eyes.

But if anyone looked closely, they would see that the corner of her mouth was also twitching—even more violently than Luo Zhao’s.

Luo Zhao kept her eyes shut.

She didn’t want to look.

She really, truly didn’t want to look.

That man standing in the center of the hall, holding Cui Shifan’s hand and grinning like a blooming flower, was her Royal Tutor.

He was the core member of the Crown Princess’s faction, the man about to take office as the Minister of Rites.

He was also the same man who had spent the entire night at the Heavenly Master’s residence the day before, only to return and put on this performance for her today.

Luo Zhao didn’t even want to admit that she was Gu Chengyin’s student—let alone acknowledge that…

The methods Gu Chengyin used were ones she couldn’t even learn if she tried.

Though she was utterly disgusted by his shamelessness, disgusted enough to wish a crack in the ground would swallow her whole.

Disgusted enough to want to shout to the entire court that this man had nothing to do with her.

Disgusted enough that at this moment, all she wanted was to close her eyes and pretend she was an emotionless jade statue.

But that, precisely that, was Gu Chengyin’s brilliance.

A man like him would succeed anywhere.

Luo Zhao kept her eyes closed and sighed inwardly.

Then she opened her eyes and looked at the two hands still clasped together in the center of the hall.

At the flower-like smile still blooming on Gu Chengyin’s face, and at that layer of cold, icy chill hidden beneath the warmth in Cui Shifan’s eyes.

Even though her face remained expressionless, as if none of this had anything to do with her,

a voice drifted in from somewhere far away inside her heart and whispered:

Learned it.

One more trick learned.