The Intention Is Real

The carriage came to a stop in front of the Cui residence. Gu Chengyin lifted the curtain, but he did not get out immediately.

Instead, he looked toward the vermilion gates of the Cui residence in the distance.

The red lacquer had grown mottled under the erosion of time, while the verdigris on the door knockers looked like fingerprints left behind by the years.

Layer upon layer had accumulated, bearing silent witness to how many storms this estate had weathered.

Above the lintel hung a plaque bearing the two characters “Cui Residence.” The strokes were vigorous and powerful, carrying between them the weight unique to a thousand-year-old aristocratic clan.

This was not the gaudy splendor of a nouveau riche household, nor the ostentatious arrogance of a powerful minister’s family.

It was the refined nobility they had been born with.

Gu Chengyin climbed down from the carriage and stood before the Cui residence, looking up at the plaque. He could not help sighing inwardly.

Cui Zilu.

Whenever that name surfaced in his mind, it carried the texture of a mountain stream.

Clear rather than murky, light rather than heavy, and free of anything that might give him a headache.

His feelings toward Cui Zilu had always been simple.

She was nothing more than a mischievous and adorable little sister.

After all, she was a genuine loli—not like Gu Xiaoli, who was merely a legal one.

When Cui Zilu smiled, her eyes curved into crescents, and her entire person seemed to be edged in golden sunlight, warm and radiant.

When she cried, large tears would roll down her cheeks, her nose would turn red, and her lips would pout.

She looked like a little rabbit that had been bullied, making people want to place the entire world before her just to exchange it for a single smile.

That was why Cui Zilu’s adorableness was natural and entirely unmanufactured.

She did not need to pretend, act, or deliberately do anything.

All she had to do was smile, and the whole world seemed to light up.

In the treacherous struggles of the imperial court, such innocence and carefree cheer were both exceedingly precious and exceedingly rare.

That was why Gu Chengyin had always treated her as a little sister.

There were no other thoughts, no ulterior motives, and nothing that could possibly taint that purity.

But after learning about Chenglu Academy, Gu Chengyin realized that perhaps things were not quite so simple.

Cheng was from Gu Chengyin.

Lu was from Cui Zilu.

Placed together, the two characters were like a lock that bound their names to each other, making them impossible to separate.

What had Cui Zilu been thinking when she chose that name?

Had she ever considered what others would think when they saw it?

Had she ever considered what he would think when he heard it?

Had she ever considered that the name would turn their relationship into something people could not help but read more into?

Perhaps Cui Zilu had thought about it. Perhaps she had not.

Knowing her as he did, Gu Chengyin believed the latter was far more likely.

She had simply thought Chenglu sounded nice. She had simply wanted to place his name alongside hers.

She had simply wanted the academy to become something belonging to both of them.

Cui Zilu had merely done what she wanted to do, in the most beautiful way she could imagine.

She had carved her feelings into every brick and tile of Chenglu Academy.

That was why Cui Zilu had not only taken this seriously—she had also, without his knowledge and in places he could not see, worked quietly and diligently just to make up for his shortcomings.

Gu Chengyin knew exactly what his shortcomings were.

No matter how capable he was, he was still only one person.

A person’s energy was limited. Their time was limited. Their abilities were limited.

That was an objective law, one that did not change according to anyone’s will.

His current position, status, and sphere of influence had, in truth, all been obtained by relying on Luo Zhao’s banner of legitimacy.

Did the members of the Crown Princess’s faction obey him because he was Gu Chengyin?

No.

They obeyed him because he was the Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince, and because he was highly favored before Luo Zhao.

This path was both a shortcut and a dead end.

It was a shortcut because he did not have to start from nothing or climb upward step by step like a child of humble origins.

The Crown Princess’s faction was an established platform, an established power base, and an established stage.

But it was a dead end because this dependence made it difficult for Gu Chengyin to develop a following of his own.

These people pledged their loyalty not to him, but to Luo Zhao.

They followed not him, but the Crown Prince.

No matter how capable Gu Chengyin became, as long as he remained the Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince—as long as he did not establish his own faction—he would never be able to escape Luo Zhao’s natural influence.

That was reality.

Gu Chengyin had never denied it, nor had he ever tried to evade it.

Originally, he had planned to deal with this problem after going to the Azure Sword Sect.

But Cui Zilu had established Chenglu Academy in a place beyond Luo Zhao’s influence.

It was neither in the divine capital nor in the heartland of the Qinghe Cui clan.

It was merely a remote, quiet little city that attracted no attention.

There were no struggles at court, no contests for power, and no one who would notice an academy quietly taking root and growing there.

In that place, Cui Zilu had selected, one by one, talented and promising young people with loyal hearts but no background, no backers, and no connections.

She had brought them into the academy and nurtured them into capable individuals.

What she was cultivating were not members of the Cui clan, nor people of the Crown Princess’s faction, nor followers of any other power.

They were people who belonged solely to Gu Chengyin and pledged their loyalty only to him.

They had never heard Luo Zhao’s name. They had never received favors from any faction. They had never struggled through the treacherous world of the imperial court.

All they knew was that Gu Chengyin had given them the opportunity to study, that Gu Chengyin had given them the chance to change their fate, and that Gu Chengyin was worthy of their lifelong allegiance.

Chenglu Academy was a magnificent gift Cui Zilu had prepared for him.

Such a weighty gift, and such selfless sincerity, left Gu Chengyin with no choice but to reconsider Cui Zilu.

Not as a little sister, but as someone with her own ideas and aspirations—someone worthy of being treated with genuine seriousness.

In fact, from the moment he had crossed into this world until now, Cui Zilu was the only person who liked him without any ulterior motives.

The statement sounded awkward, but it was the truth.

Whether it was Lin Qingyan, or Luo Zhao and Shangguan Yunying, they had all schemed against him, and he had schemed against them in turn.

That was a fact. There was nothing to deny and nothing to be ashamed of.

In the game of power, plotting was the norm, the law of survival, and a skill everyone had to master.

The reason Gu Chengyin had kept Cui Zilu by his side was because she was the Eldest Miss of the Cui family, the only daughter of Cui Shifan.

Given the circumstances at the time, Cui Zilu was the best protective shield he could have.

But Cui Zilu had never schemed against him.

From the very first day they met, she had never sought any benefit, never tried to gain an advantage, and never done anything behind his back that might harm him.

Cui Zilu’s kindness toward Gu Chengyin was pure, without the slightest impurity.

Before leaving the divine capital, she had even tried to rescue him from the Office of Clerical Administration.

For that, she had been willing to personally place herself in danger. Objectively speaking, the idea had been more than a little naïve; it had even been rather foolish.

But her sincerity had been real.