Sang Qi and Sang Zhi stared, dumbfounded, as the Great General of the nation scurried away dejectedly. Though the two were at odds, they couldn’t resist exchanging a look.

They could both see the surprise in each other’s eyes. The man was nothing like the rumors described.

Sang Qi had only met Xiang Minghou once, when he was five. His memory was of a man in a full suit of armor, wielding a great saber, his face covered by a thick beard—like one of the Four Heavenly Kings enshrined in a temple.

He was both majestic and terrifying. A single glance could strike fear into one’s heart.

Back then, Xiang Minghou had glared at him, scaring him so badly that he’d fallen gravely ill. For the rest of that year, he’d had recurring nightmares of the Four Heavenly Kings, all bearing Xiang Minghou’s face.

’I was still a bit apprehensive coming to the estate today,’ he thought. ’I can’t believe how much Xiang Minghou has changed after all these years. He looks so much younger...’

’And to be dressed down so thoroughly by a little girl without even talking back... That’s a far cry from the man I remember.’

Sang Zhi hadn’t met Xiang Minghou many times either, but on every occasion, the man had been stern, unsmiling, and unapproachable. ’So this is what the Great General is like in private,’ he realized for the first time.

Dean Chen shook his head with a wry smile. It was hard to imagine a nation’s General being so thoroughly managed by his daughter. This was a man who dared to talk back to the Emperor himself, yet he had no temper whatsoever when it came to his own child.

’He’s completely wrapped around her little finger,’ he thought.

"Dean Chen, weren’t you going to lecture on the classics? When shall we begin?" Sang Qi asked, clearing his throat to pull himself from his reverie.

"This is no place for a lecture. Let us move to the courtyard," Dean Chen said, rising to his feet.

"Very well." Sang Qi also stood up.

"Little one, go to your master’s room and fetch the tomes."

"But Master, your tomes are so heavy! I can’t possibly carry them all by myself. Why not let Brother Sang Zhi come with me?" Ye Qianning said, grabbing Sang Zhi’s hand.

Sang Zhi instinctively squeezed her chubby little hand. "Dean Chen, I’ll help her carry them."

"Go on, then. I will escort the Crown Prince to the courtyard," Dean Chen said, stroking his beard. "Crown Prince, if you please."

Sang Qi shot the two of them a dark look. ’Useless fatso,’ he thought.

"Let’s go," Sang Zhi said, pulling her out the door and down the long corridor.

"Brother, do you know where the Dean lives?"

Sang Zhi stopped in his tracks, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face.

"Follow me," Ye Qianning said, laughing to herself.

Sang Zhi let her lead the way, a smile playing on his lips. He was in an excellent mood.

The two arrived at Yuehua Small Building. Ye Qianning had someone close the courtyard gate, which puzzled Sang Zhi.

"Luo Xuan," Ye Qianning ordered, "in about an hour, take the tomes to Dean Chen. If the Dean or the Crown Prince asks about the Eighth Prince, just say that I accidentally fell and the Eighth Prince took me to see a physician."

"Yes."

"Aren’t we here to get the tomes?" Sang Zhi asked, confused.

"That was just our excuse. Have a seat," Ye Qianning said before turning to rummage through a drawer.

Sang Zhi sat down and watched her quietly.

Ye Qianning pulled out a red lacquered box. When she stood and turned, she saw Sang Zhi watching her, seemingly without a shred of vigilance.

"Aren’t you afraid I mean you harm?" she asked offhandedly.

"You wouldn’t."

"Oh?" Ye Qianning was taken aback.

"Anyone who wants to kill me is always after something," Sang Zhi said. He knew the rules of palace survival all too well.

"But I’m after something, too. Aren’t you afraid?"

"Even if you are, it’s certainly not my life you’re after. If I can help you by staying alive, then I’m willing to be part of your plan." Sang Zhi’s voice was quiet, but his tone was deeply earnest.

He knew that someone of his status, disabled or not, was always a pawn in someone else’s schemes.

He would much rather be used by this little girl than by any of them.

And besides... he trusted her!

Ye Qianning had only asked offhandedly, never expecting Sang Zhi to respond with such words. Every word was earnest, yet every word revealed a profound sadness.