36. Learn Calligraphy with Me

That night, Le Qianxue also began preparing. Zhan Lianjing hadn’t said where he would rescue Yuan Tianci, but given Zhan Lianjing’s influence, it seemed entirely possible for him to find Yuan Tianci. Yin Susu had never met Yuan Tianci and had little interest in him. Watching Le Qianxue bustling about, she said, “That Yuan Tianci seems quite important to you. Why are you so anxious?”

“I’m anxious for your sake,” Le Qianxue replied. “Think about it—only with his help can I enter the Prince Zhan’s manor openly.”

Yin Susu smiled. “I almost forgot. It seems you won’t be using the beauty-trap after all. Relying on Yuan Tianci is the only way for you to get into the Prince’s manor.”

With that, Yin Susu changed her mind and hurried to help Le Qianxue.

Le Qianxue pouted. “If it weren’t for your sect scroll, I wouldn’t want to get too involved with him. If he ever realized I’m the one who stole his spiritual medicine, a hundred deaths wouldn’t save me.”

Zhan Lianjing was the kind of man who always repaid his grudges. Le Qianxue was always cautious when around him, lest he notice any flaw.

Yin Susu said, “I don’t think so. I get the feeling he treats you differently.”

What exactly was different? Yin Susu couldn’t quite say, but it was just a feeling.

For instance, everyone in the world believed Zhan Lianjing’s leg was crippled and that he could never stand again, but he had told Le Qianxue the truth—that his condition fluctuated. If it had been someone else, Zhan Lianjing would have killed her already.

“Stop right there, don’t say such things. It makes me a little sick,” Le Qianxue said as she put away her medicinal pills and closed the lid.

Yin Susu propped her chin in her hand, her stunning features brimming with charm. Alone with Le Qianxue, she could finally show her true face.

“Xue’er, do you have a way to cure his leg?” she asked. “If one day he discovers you’re the Ghost Doctor, you could use that as leverage—a little transaction wouldn’t hurt.”

Le Qianxue pondered for a moment. “I could, but it’s impossible.”

“Why not?”

“The poison in his leg requires a special toxin that only resides within the human body—it’s not something that can be easily drawn out.”

“That makes things easier, though. He’s the Prince Zhan; with a single word, countless people would be willing to die for him.”

Le Qianxue laughed coldly. “True, but the person who draws out the poison must be me.”

“Why?” Yin Susu was genuinely surprised, her voice rising.

“It’s hard to explain,” Le Qianxue replied.

In her previous life, she had been the master of the Tang Sect. After becoming the leader, she formed a contract with an alchemy cauldron; at that time, the leader’s bloodline would change, allowing them to refine medicine with the cauldron. Her blood was incredibly precious, indispensable in many alchemical recipes.

Fortunately, after she transmigrated, she had the absurd luck of bringing the cauldron with her, so her blood remained the same.

No one in the world could cure Zhan Lianjing’s leg, but she could draw out the poison with her own blood.

Yet the process was far too dangerous—one wrong move and she’d lose her life.

It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.

“Forget it. I know you’re shrouded in mystery. Besides, half the things you tell me I don’t even understand,” Yin Susu said, waving her hand to stop Le Qianxue from explaining further.

She didn’t want Le Qianxue putting herself at risk for anything. After all, neither of them were related to Zhan Lianjing; there was no need to risk their lives for him.

That night, Le Qianxue and Yin Susu talked late into the night, so much so that they didn’t wake until the sun was high in the sky the next day.

“Miss…” Huatao called gently to wake Le Qianxue. “Miss, you must wake up.”

Le Qianxue, still half asleep, brushed Huatao’s hand aside. “What is it? Don’t bother me…”

She had just discovered a new formula in her dream, and now Huatao was interrupting!

Huatao persisted. “The Third Prince has arrived. Master said he doesn’t care if he has to douse you with water—you must get up quickly.”

Barely managing to open her eyes, Le Qianxue asked, “Why is he here?”

“I don’t know. The Third Prince and Master are having tea in the main hall right now.”

Le Qianxue sat up and rubbed her head. “Let me freshen up first.”

As she made her way out, the sound of laughter drifted from the hall.

Huatao recognized the voices and remarked, “Why is Second Miss there too? The Third Prince isn’t here for her.”

“Huatao, you sound jealous,” Le Qianxue joked, stifling a yawn.

Due to her lack of sleep, her eyes were puffy.

During her toilette, she let Huatao do as she pleased, only to discover on her way out that Huatao had dressed her with particular care—almost excessively so.

“Miss, the Third Prince is quite a catch. You must seize the opportunity! Don’t let Second Miss beat you to it!” Huatao said, clenching her fists with conviction.

Le Qianxue couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s this about? The Third Prince is merely here to see me, not to choose a consort.”

“None of the princes are married yet, and the Fourth Prince treated you terribly. You certainly shouldn’t marry him. But the Third Prince is exceptional. You don’t know—in the moment he arrived, all the maids in the General’s residence were nearly swooning.”

“How strange. I distinctly remember you all saying that Prince Zhan was the most handsome man in the world. You girls are fickle, changing your minds so quickly.”

Huatao blushed and defended herself, “Yes, Prince Zhan is indeed the most handsome, but his legs are crippled—he’s not a suitable husband. The Third Prince is different. He rescued you yesterday, and he’s so approachable, unlike the cold and frosty Prince Zhan.”

Le Qianxue smirked. “Huatao, you don’t understand. As the saying goes, a smile can hide a dagger. Don’t judge too quickly—observe first.”

With that, Le Qianxue entered the main hall.

Le Linglong was saying, “I have some knowledge of painting and calligraphy, and I’ve collected some famous works. Would Your Highness care to view them with me?”

But Yu Zhiyang seemed not to have heard her. The moment he saw Le Qianxue, he smiled at her. “You’re finally awake.”

Le Qianxue offered a slight bow. “Your Highness, you arrived so early. I had to force myself out of bed.”

Le Yongcheng’s face darkened. “Xue’er, the Third Prince is here today to instruct you. As a student, you’re far too sluggish—clearly you have no respect for your teacher!”

She was momentarily stunned. “Student? Teacher?”

Then she remembered last night’s events at Qianlong Palace, and her face fell.

Damn it, was this going to be the death of her?

She had thought Yu Zhiyang was merely talking, not that he’d take it seriously!

Le Qianxue forced a smile. “Your Highness, really, you don’t need to be so strict. I understand all the important principles.”

Today, Yu Zhiyang wore a pale yellow robe, looking like an ordinary young master from a noble family, yet his aura was unmistakably noble.

His handsome face bore a gentle smile, and his gaze towards Le Qianxue was especially soft.

“I heard you once attended lessons in the palace but couldn’t even write your own name, driving the Grand Tutor to tears,” he said.

“But now…” Le Qianxue began, but stopped herself.

The incident had happened only a year ago. She had transmigrated three months ago and had been pretending to be incompetent. If she suddenly demonstrated ability, even Le Yongcheng would be suspicious.

“That’s right, I want to learn to write now, so my father doesn’t die of anger,” Le Qianxue said with a smile.

Le Yongcheng snorted. “It’s rare to see you so self-aware!”

“I always have been,” Le Qianxue insisted. “If I spend years learning to write and don’t marry, you’ll be the one crying.”

“That won’t do!” Le Yongcheng fumed. “Don’t make me arrange a martial arts tournament for your marriage!”

Le Qianxue pursed her lips and quickly led Yu Zhiyang away.

Le Linglong, who had set her heart on the Third Prince the moment she saw him, grew anxious as Le Qianxue came in and immediately took him away. “Your Highness, won’t you view my calligraphy and paintings?”

Yu Zhiyang, ever even-tempered, replied mildly, “Second Miss, I have no interest.”

In the Clear Rain Courtyard, Yu Zhiyang took in his surroundings, finding the place charming though a bit small.

There had once been a study, but Le Qianxue had converted it into an alchemy room, barring others from entering.

Yu Zhiyang glanced around and tried to open the door, only to notice the lock.

“You keep this locked? Is this your little treasury?”

“No, it’s my private space,” Le Qianxue replied. “Let’s go to the flower hall.”

Huatao served tea diligently, relieved that her mistress was so charming as to have lured the Third Prince over.

“Do you have the Diamond Sutra here?” Yu Zhiyang asked. “Copy this Buddhist scripture.”

“Do I really have to?” Le Qianxue asked with a hint of complaint. Alchemy was her strength—calligraphy was not.

“Of course. If you want to get around my father’s punishment, you mustn’t take it lightly. Otherwise, where would imperial authority rest?” Yu Zhiyang turned to Huatao. “Bring the Diamond Sutra.”

Huatao hurried to the study to fetch it. The Third Prince was so handsome, she was happy to serve him.

Le Qianxue’s lips twitched. Apparently, Yu Zhiyang already saw this place as his own home.

Yu Zhiyang began to grind the ink. His long, graceful hands were a sight to behold, his nails trimmed perfectly.

“Have you learned to write your name yet?” he asked.

“No,” Le Qianxue replied.

Yu Zhiyang’s expression didn’t change. He wrote her name on a sheet of rice paper and handed it to her.

His handwriting was strong and upright, quite impressive.

“Just copy what you see,” Yu Zhiyang instructed. “Here, hold the brush.”

Le Qianxue, resigned, picked up the brush and randomly scrawled a few strokes.

It looked nothing like writing, more like a child’s doodles.

Yu Zhiyang didn’t seem annoyed. “That’s not right. Watch the order of my strokes.”