That night,

After being unconscious the entire day, Zhou Wangshu finally opened his eyes. The familiar ceiling of the East Palace greeted him. His body ached with every breath, but pain meant he was alive.

Turning his head slightly, his gaze landed on a figure slouched in a nearby chair.

Wu Yingyue was there, fast asleep, his head tilted awkwardly, hair falling straight, a bit messy without his usual crown and robes falling off his shoulders showing his pale skin. His complexion was pale, his brows faintly furrowed even in rest, as if he hadn't truly relaxed for days.

For a moment, Zhou Wangshu stared in silence. The flickering candlelight painted soft gold on Wu yingyue's cheeks, outlining a figure that looked far too fragile for someone wearing who plot murder of innocents.

Zhou Wangshu looked at him in silence.

Without even realizing it, his usual guarded expression softened. His eyes, always so sharp and unreadable, now held a rare warmth.

For just a moment, the past and present blurred.

But the illusion didn't last.

Wu Yingyue stirred, lashes fluttering before his eyes slowly opened. The quiet spell shattered in an instant. Zhou Wangshu's gaze sharpened reflexively, the gentleness vanishing.

Wu Yingyue blinked once, then met Zhou Wangshu's eyes with a mix of surprise and quiet relief. "You're awake."

Wu Yingyue sat up straighter, the sleep still lingering in his limbs, but his voice was calm.
"How are you feeling?"

"Alive, unfortunately,"

Wu Yingyue's brows twitched, but he let it go. "The physician came earlier. You had a fever. You'll recover, slowly."

Zhou Wangshu laughed under his breath,. "So you can return me to prison in good health?"

Wu Yingyue's jaw clenched. "I brought you here to save your life, not take it."

Zhou Wangshu's eyes snapped to him. "Spare me the noble act. If I had the tiger tally in hand, would you still be pretending to care?"

There was a pause. A flicker of something passed through Wu Yingyue's eyes—anger, pain, or perhaps guilt.
"I'm trying to protect what little we both have left," he said quietly.

Zhou Wangshu turned his face away. "Then stop pretending you still have anything to lose."

That was the end of it.

Wu Yingyue stood without another word, brushing his sleeves down with measured grace.
"If resting in hate helps you heal faster, then by all means, keep at it. Besides, if you can talk so much then you must be quite well."

He left the room, the soft sound of his departing footsteps swallowed by the cold silence.

Not long after, Lingling entered quietly, carrying a tray of medicine.

"Your Grace," she said gently, setting it down by the bedside. "The physician said to take this before the hour passes."

She paused and then added, "... Your highness the Crown Prince asked me to deliver it, before he left."

Zhou Wangshu didn't answer. His gaze lingered on the now-empty chair.

Lingling hesitated before speaking again. "There was a morning court today... the emperor has decreed that once you're well, you'll accompany His Highness to the frontier of the north where the storm struck."

Zhou Wangshu's eyes darkened. "Our plan is going smoothly."

"Yes, My lord."

"What did Her Majesty reply?"

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On the other side of the palace, the cold wind beat softly against the windows. Guang Ze tended to the brazier, feeding in a few pieces of coal. Wu Yingyue sat with a hand warmer nestled in his sleeves, his expression calm but far from restful.

A light knock interrupted the silence.
"Your Highness," a eunuch stepped in quietly.

Wu Yingyue lifted his eyes, giving Guang Ze a subtle nod. Guang Ze bowed and withdrew without a word, leaving the room in stillness.

"What did you find out, Xiao Wen?" Wu Yingyue asked, voice low and even.

Xue Wen stepped forward and knelt, his head bowed. "Your Highness was correct. On the day Duke Zhou came to you... before that, he visited Her Majesty."

A soft "ah" escaped Wu Yingyue's lips. He leaned back slightly, gaze distant.

"No wonder," he murmured. "That day... he smelled like pine."

"Zhou Wangshu always carried the battlefield with him. Even the rain couldn't wash it off." Wu Yingyue's voice was quiet to himself. "But that day... it was different."

He looked down at his hand warmer, fingers tightening around it.

"When I visited the Empress not long after, the air in her chambers smelled the same—pine and ink. She grew two pots herself, you know. Ming'er planted them. She still tends to them every winter."

A cold realization flickered in his eyes.

"That means," he said slowly, "Mother already knew Wu Ziming had returned. That's why she rejected me. She was preparing... for someone else."

His voice dropped into a whisper. "No wonder she was so calm."

For a long moment, he said nothing more. Only the crackling of the coals echoed through the room.

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"She said, the Lord has nothing to worry about... she would not support the Crown Prince in any way," Lingling said softly, bowing her head as she placed the medicine tray on the nearby table.

"Good," he replied, his voice quiet but resolute. "It would have been a problem if the Empress natal family got involved."

There was no joy in that word, no satisfaction, as if a piece of an intricate chessboard had moved exactly as expected.

Days passed.

Winter deepened its grip on the capital, laying a thick white blanket over roofs and stone steps. The East Palace grew quieter by the hour.

The prince's departure had stirred great attention throughout the court. Ministers and noble families whispered behind closed doors, convinced that the Crown Prince's journey was nothing more than ceremonial to appease public discontent. None of them expected that Wu Yingyue would truly step into the snow, much less trudge through ruined farmland and speak directly with the people.

But he did.

Snow had fallen without pause for days, blanketing the roads in thick drifts and weighing down what was left of the harvest. Wu Yingyue stood ankle-deep in slush and frozen mud, boots soaked and breath misting in the air, speaking softly with an old farmer whose hands trembled as he pointed to the wreckage of his home. The Crown Prince asked him questions about grain reserves, about lost cattle, about whether there were enough winter blankets for the children.

He didn't avoid the wounded or the poor. He did not wear silk robes. He did not sit in a carriage.

Even the officials who accompanied him exchanged uncertain glances. This was no mere performance.

The party crossed a narrow trail toward the farmland at the foot of a snow-covered hill. The icy ground beneath the snow was treacherous, and Wu Yingyue slipped suddenly, his footing giving way.

"Your Highness—!"

A firm hand caught his arm.

Zhou Wangshu, quick and steady, pulled him before he could fall on the ground. His breath came in faint plumes as he smiled faintly.

"Please be careful, Your Highness," he said, tone light but eyes quietly assessing. "If you fall like that again, it won't just be a bruise."

Wu Yingyue's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than it should have. For just a second, he wondered what he was thinking behind that calm smile? But he said nothing of it. He simply brushed snow off his cloak and replied with a low, "I know."

Zhou Wangshu glanced around, then asked casually, "Your Highness intends to visit all the nearby villages? If so, I'm afraid it might take at least half a month."

Wu Yingyue shook his head slowly.

"It's too late for that," he said. His eyes followed the shape of collapsed thatched roofs in the distance, then down to frostbitten stalks of wheat that lay broken beneath the snow. "I've seen enough to understand the scale of it. When we return, I'll have the Ministry of Works draft a full disaster relief strategy that actually works. No more delayed silver or empty granaries."

He paused, then looked toward the horizon. A few blackened, crooked rooftops poked out of the white.

"I will go to the capital of this province tomorrow then depart for Jing'an Village," he added, voice quiet but firm. "They said that village is the worst-hit region."

Zhou Wangshu's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He nodded once, placing a hand briefly on the prince's shoulder.

"Then I will accompany you."