Serious Reflection

“Pavilion Elder Cui, allow me to see you out.”

Cui Shifan nodded without refusing and turned to walk out of the hall.

Gu Chengyin followed his pace, walking shoulder to shoulder with him as they headed outside.

He did not look back, nor did he give Luo Zhao or Shangguan Yunying any signal with his eyes.

After all, he wasn’t really seeing Cui Shifan off; he wanted to find a place to have a serious talk with this conveniently acquired father-in-law.

Luo Zhao watched their retreating figures, her eyes narrowing involuntarily.

Claiming official business was too busy—when it came down to it, he simply didn’t want her to hear.

Luo Zhao also understood why Gu Chengyin needed a private chat with Cui Shifan.

On the surface, the marriage proposal was already concluded.

Everything that needed to be said had been said, everything that needed to be settled had been settled, and everything that needed to be delayed had been delayed.

But there was still much left unsaid—things that could not be said, or were not convenient to say in public.

Those words were the true core of today’s marriage proposal.

Cui Shifan had not come to the Crown Prince’s palace to receive a yes-or-no answer. He had come to reach an unspoken understanding with Gu Chengyin.

An understanding that didn’t need to be written on paper, witnessed by anyone, or even spoken aloud.

It was about how the Cui clan and the Crown Prince’s faction would interact from now on, how far the marriage alliance would actually go, and how to present a unified front if the imperial palace inquired about it.

None of this could be discussed in front of Luo Zhao.

Beyond the fact that Gu Chengyin himself didn’t fully trust her, there was also the issue of her inexperience.

Though Luo Zhao was clever and had already accomplished quite a bit in the Ministry of Personnel, she had spent too little time truly facing the complexities of the court on her own.

Some things, even if explained, she might not fully understand.

And some matters, if she knew about them, would only add unnecessary pressure on her.

So Gu Chengyin chose to keep her in the dark.

These tangled, grimy matters—things unfit for a crown prince to touch—he would handle them himself.

She only needed to sit in the seat of honor, playing the part of an aloof and solitary crown prince.

Luo Zhao was annoyed inwardly, but she said nothing.

She knew Gu Chengyin was doing the right thing.

Some things, she truly was not suited to know.

So more than anything else, what really irritated Luo Zhao was being used as a pawn.

Gritting her teeth as she watched Gu Chengyin’s figure vanish beyond the hall door, Luo Zhao withdrew her gaze and turned to Shangguan Yunying beside her.

“Yunying.”

No response.

Shangguan Yunying stood with her back straight, hands folded in front of her, her face calm and her posture graceful.

But her eyes were empty—no focus, no expression—only a blank daze.

“Yunying!”

Luo Zhao raised her voice, a trace of urgency in it.

Shangguan Yunying’s body jolted, as if someone had violently yanked her back from a faraway place.

She blinked a few times, and the emptiness receded, replaced by confusion, then a flash of panic.

Finally, her expression settled into something tinged with embarrassment and confusion.

Shangguan Yunying turned to Luo Zhao, who asked with concern:

“Are you alright, Yunying?”

Shangguan Yunying shook her head, trying to steady her voice:

“I’m fine, Your Highness.”

“It’s just… all so sudden.”

Shangguan Yunying didn’t want Luo Zhao to see how flustered she was, didn’t want her to know the turmoil surging inside her.

After enduring Lin Qingyan taking Gu Chengyin away, then learning that she herself might be the subject of a marriage proposal, and finally facing the even greater shock that Cui Zilu was to marry Gu Chengyin—even though the actual proposal wasn’t for her—the successive blows had left Shangguan Yunying in a daze.

She had been the first to meet Gu Chengyin.

She had been the first to fall in love with him.

And he had loved her first, too.

Lin Qingyan came later, yet she had won him.

Cui Zilu came later, yet she was to marry him.

And what about her, Shangguan Yunying?

She was the earliest, yet she had nothing.

Why?

How had it come to this?

Shangguan Yunying twisted her fingers tighter in front of her, until her knuckles turned white and veins bulged, as if she might break them clean off.

Her eyes stung, but she let nothing fall.

She couldn’t cry.

Not in front of Luo Zhao, not while Cui Shifan was still within earshot, not before Gu Chengyin returned.

She was the Chief Lady Officer, she was Shangguan Yunying.

She could not cry.

“Cui Shifan was just here to show his stance, really.”

“It’s called a marriage proposal, but Gu Chengyin probably won’t even agree to it.”

Luo Zhao wasn’t sure if these words were of any use.

She just wanted to say something—anything—to comfort Shangguan Yunying.

But she realized that was all she could say.

Because she didn’t know how things would unfold, when Cui Zilu would return to the capital, whether Gu Chengyin would agree, or how her father, Emperor Luo, would intervene.

Shangguan Yunying nodded.

She knew Luo Zhao was right.

Cui Shifan’s visit today was merely a signal.

Releasing that signal so everyone knew, so everyone would begin to contemplate this matter.

As for the outcome, that was for later.

And later, who could say for sure?

Cui Zilu might decide tomorrow that she didn’t want to marry after all. Gu Chengyin might refuse tomorrow. Emperor Luo might issue a decree forbidding it tomorrow.

Anything was possible.

But still, Shangguan Yunying couldn’t stop the panic in her heart.

She also began to seriously reflect on what, exactly, had made her fall behind everyone else at every turn.

Outside the hall.

Gu Chengyin and Cui Shifan walked side by side through the main hall’s doorway and stopped under the corridor.

Sunlight slid down from the glazed tiles on the roof and fell upon them both.

The wind was gentle but carried a crisp dryness, billowing their robes slightly like unfurling banners.

Before Gu Chengyin could speak, Cui Shifan had already drawn a token from his bosom.

The Luoshan Token.

Cui Shifan handed the token to Gu Chengyin.

“Junior Preceptor Gu, the other half of this Luoshan Token is in Zilu’s hands.”

Gu Chengyin glanced at the token in Cui Shifan’s hand, then back up at him.

His expression remained unchanged, but his eyes flickered.

Finally, he reached out and took the Luoshan Token.

“Many thanks, Pavilion Elder Cui. How has Zilu been lately?”

At the sight of Gu Chengyin accepting the token, a flicker of sharpness crossed Cui Shifan’s eyes.

Accepting the Luoshan Token was itself a signal.

It meant Gu Chengyin would not refuse this matter.

But Cui Shifan did not answer the question directly.

Instead, he looked away from Gu Chengyin and fixed his gaze on the sky beyond the corridor.

There, a few clouds drifted like shreds of cotton in the wind, slowly floating toward the horizon.

“Junior Preceptor Gu, did you know that a new academy has recently opened in Qinghe Commandery?”

A gleam of confusion crossed Gu Chengyin’s eyes.

An academy?

What academy?

He had asked about Cui Zilu—what did an academy have to do with anything?

Unless…

This newly opened academy belonged to Cui Zilu.