"How are We meant to bring it up?"
The Crown Prince's voice rang out in anger.
"The Imperial Guard only vaguely reported that something happened at the Gong Yuan. Does Father Emperor expect Us to step forward and confess, as if We have been waiting for this very moment to be accused? As if the instant the examinations fell into chaos, We would leap forth and claim responsibility?
Even if We were to fabricate a claim, to insist the guard said something more—what use would it be? We cannot even recall his face. We are unable to identify him at all!"
"Your Highness, you are mistaken."
The Crown Prince's Preceptor shook his head at once.
"To raise this matter before His Majesty is not about identifying the specific individual. The key is that such a person exists. His very presence becomes a thorn between His Majesty and Princess Sheng An."
What exactly is the Imperial Guard?
It is the Emperor's personal army—directly loyal to the throne.
For Princess Sheng An to plant her own people within their ranks was akin to extending her hand into the heart of the Emperor's authority.
And in all his years, the Preceptor had never seen an Emperor willing to tolerate such a thing.
His Majesty had favored the Crown Prince for many years. Yet even that affection could change in an instant.
Princess Sheng An had only just begun to rise. But with this one thorn lodged in place, it was already enough.
When he spoke, the Preceptor's tone was firm with certainty.
Realization dawned across the Crown Prince's face, his eyes flashing with sudden clarity.
"Preceptor speaks wisely. Tomorrow, we shall... wait."
He paused as something else came to mind.
"That drum outside the palace just now... was it struck on your orders?"
"Would this old subject have the time for that?"
The Grand Preceptor denied it without hesitation.
"Your Highness had just left for the imperial study to seek His Majesty, and moments later, the man I sent to gather information returned. He reported that everything at the Gong Yuan proceeded as normal, and even the exam questions had been changed. At once, I sensed something was amiss and rushed to the imperial study, where I coincidentally encountered Princess Sheng An—this is bad!"
He had been too focused on worrying about the Crown Prince. But now, reviewing everything in his mind, a wave of dread swept over him.
Slapping his thigh, the Preceptor's face turned visibly anxious.
"Those who struck the drum today... I fear it may be those very scholars who purchased the leaked exam topics, come to accuse Princess Sheng An!"
"To accuse Yun Shu?"
Was that not a good thing?
The Crown Prince blinked, momentarily confused.
"But why would they accuse Yun Shu?"
The Spring Examinations had already ended, and the exam questions had been altered. At this point, even if Yun Shu had truly leaked the exam, there was little left to be gained from making the accusation.
If anything, the ones making the accusation would be implicating themselves in cheating. Were they truly so foolish as to destroy their own futures?
He had not yet grasped the full implications, but the Preceptor had already begun pacing the floor in frustration.
After two quick turns, he stopped, his voice urgent and decisive.
"Your Highness, we may have no choice but to sacrifice the arm to save the body."
"Must it come to that?"
The Crown Prince frowned.
"They are accusing Yun Shu, not…"
"But it may well have been orchestrated by Princess Sheng An herself!"
If anxiety could manifest into physical symptoms, then by now, the Preceptor's lips would be covered in blisters.
"Your Highness, the exam topics we obtained earlier were certainly accurate. Yet now the Spring Examination has changed, which proves something happened—something we were not privy to. And it undoubtedly involved Princess Sheng An!
With the questions altered, all our previous preparations are now worthless. If that were the end of it, then so be it. A failed scheme, nothing more.
But for those scholars to strike the drum at this precise moment—!
The Drum of Petitions has been sounded. This matter can no longer be ignored!"
"But we were discreet. How could Yun Shu have possibly known?" The Preceptor's words were too convincing. Even the Crown Prince began to panic. "Perhaps there's been a misunderstanding? What if the drum was struck by someone else, someone with a separate grievance? It doesn't have to be those scholars who bought the questions... does it?"
"If only that were true."
The Grand Preceptor let out a heavy sigh.
"In any case, Your Highness must begin preparing for the worst. For those scholars, striking the drum brings no benefit at all. If it truly was them, then it can only mean that Princess Sheng An is far more formidable than we anticipated."
"No… that's impossible… absolutely impossible…"
The Crown Prince muttered to himself, his tone hovering between denial and self-consolation, unsure whether he refused to believe it or simply hoped things were not yet beyond saving.
"Impossible. Absolutely not. We shall dispatch someone at once to investigate and uncover who dared strike the Drum of Petitions!"
The first night after the Spring Examinations ended was a night of mixed emotions—some wept, others rejoiced.
Yun Shu returned early to Fengyang Palace, soaked in a delightfully scented bath, and wrapped herself in warm blankets for the best night's sleep she'd had in days.
When she arrived at the Xuan Zheng Hall the next morning wearing official court robes, her entire demeanor radiated fresh energy and vitality.
She wore a blue official robe, which stood out conspicuously among the sea of red and purple. Her presence at the head of the assembly made her look like a brilliant signal fire amid the ranks.
The Crown Prince stood beside her in a bright yellow robe embroidered with four-clawed pythons—striking as well, but his face was pale and drawn, as if he had not slept a single hour the night before.
Anyone looking could tell that he had suffered some kind of setback.
Whispers began circulating among the assembled officials.
Everyone knew why the Crown Prince had recommended Princess Sheng An to oversee the Spring Examinations. His motive had been clear as day.
Now the examinations had concluded, but the two of them stood side by side with completely different expressions.
Could it be... that Princess Sheng An had emerged victorious?
A princess with barely any support, who acted on instinct against a carefully laid plan—and still won?
Was she truly that formidable?
Then there was the Drum of Petitions.
Sounded just yesterday, right at this critical moment—it was hard not to speculate.
"His Majesty approaches!"
Li Dehai's sharp voice echoed through the hall. At once, the whispers ceased, replaced by a unified chant:
"Long live the Emperor! May His Majesty live ten thousand years!"
"You may all rise."
The yellow-robed figure passed before them, ascending to the Dragon Throne. The beads of the imperial crown settled into stillness, and the morning audience officially began.
The matters discussed at first were routine, minor affairs of state. Knowing Yun Shu rarely attended morning court, Emperor Xuanwu deliberately slowed the pace, breaking things down so she could better follow.
Matters that would normally be dispatched with a few brief remarks were now drawn out into a dozen or more lines of explanation.
All the while, he subtly observed Yun Shu from the corner of his eye.
He had expected this little scamp to grow bored quickly, to start dozing off within the time it took for a single stick of incense to burn.
But to his surprise, the child was attentive from beginning to end—eyes bright, interest genuine.
Emperor Xuanwu was both surprised and pleased. From that moment onward, his explanations grew more meticulous, and in his heart, he even wished he could drag Yun Shu off to the imperial study for a full personal lesson.