Tang Yin was somewhat perplexed. Although he and Shen Tingjiao were old acquaintances, they had always spoken little. While Tang Yin never spoke ill of others, he couldn't help but feel that this Ninth Lord was far too delicate. A grown man behaving with the affectations of a young woman was something he disliked. Consequently, he could not imagine what they could possibly have to discuss.
Nevertheless, he spoke gently, "Please, Ninth Lord, speak your mind."
Shen Tingjiao sat down on a long bench by the pond. He hadn't even allowed any servants in to serve tea. "Did Zhuli come today to ask you to leave Chang'an with her, Master?"
Tang Yin felt a flicker of surprise. "Zhuli did indeed visit today, but I did not hear her mention such a thing."
Shen Tingjiao now understood. "There are things you do not know, Master. Great General Qu has already mobilized his troops, intending to raise an army from Jincheng. However, the Emperor has sixty thousand Imperial Guards in his hand. The situation is dire; we must leave Chang'an and retreat with General Qu to Jincheng County."
Tang Yin’s brow furrowed, his expression turning solemn. "Ninth Prince, I can roughly surmise the current situation. However, I still have a blood debt with Qu Tianji that has yet to be settled. I will never seek shelter under the Qu family's roof for the sake of my own safety. You and... the Princess Consort should leave Chang'an with Qu Tianji."
A smile played on Shen Tingjiao’s lips. "If you do not leave, Master, how could my Princess Consort be willing to depart?"
Tang Yin was choked by these words, his face flushing. "What does Your Highness mean by that? The Princess Consort and I are merely master and disciple, while Your Highness and she are wedded husband and wife..."
Before he could finish, Shen Tingjiao interrupted him, his voice tinged with self-mockery. "What I mean is something you surely know better than anyone, Master." He stood up, his voice turning accusatory. "Do you truly know nothing of her feelings for you?"
Tang Yin’s right hand gripped the short flute at his waist, his words faltering. Shen Tingjiao pressed closer. "The world says you are a man of enduring devotion, but do you dare say that even now, the only one in your heart is Head Yin Biwu? Do you dare say you have never felt a single spark of romantic affection for my Princess Consort? You quietly squander her feelings while maintaining a facade of master-disciple propriety. Does a shameless man who violates ethical boundaries like you dare call himself a gentleman?"
Tang Yin’s hand tightened around the Biluo Jie, his knuckles turning white. "I have not!"
Shen Tingjiao took another step forward, his gaze as sharp as a blade. "No? When she came to find you today, you knew exactly what she wanted to say, yet you wouldn't even let her speak of it! Are you really unaware of what she has done? Tang Yin, do you truly think Qu Liushang’s death was an accident? A teacher is meant to pass on the Way, impart knowledge, and resolve doubts. For twelve years, you have received the utmost respect from the Yin family, but what exactly have you taught her?"
Tang Yin’s gaze turned vacant. Shen Tingjiao felt a sense of vindication. "You know full well that if you stay, the Emperor will surely use you to blackmail her in the future. And yet, Tang Yin, all you consider is your personal grudge! Have you considered her for even a moment? You have stayed with the Yin family for over twenty years; what have you truly done for her? How can a selfish man like you be fit to be a master?"
Tang Yin recoiled slightly. He rarely argued with others and found himself unable to offer a rebuttal. Shen Tingjiao stared him down, his eyes filled with mockery. "You know she is a married woman, yet have you ever tried to avoid even the slightest suspicion? Did you think I saw nothing that night by the lake at Tianlai Inn?"
Tang Yin was startled. This concerned Yin Zhuli’s reputation, and he could not be vague. "The Princess Consort and I did nothing that night! You..."
Shen Tingjiao did not wish to say more. "I have eyes; I can see for myself. Do you dare put your hand on your heart and tell me that my Princess Consort has never loved you?" Though he was only saying this to provoke Tang Yin, for some reason, his own chest felt a pang of genuine pain. "Do you dare say you have never had a single illicit thought about her in your heart?"
Tang Yin was speechless. He didn't know. It was just that the faces in his dreams had begun to overlap; he could no longer distinguish between Yin Zhuli and Yin Biwu. Human memory is fragile; it is impossible to keep a person's features as clear as yesterday for twenty years.
Shen Tingjiao strode away. When he reached the gate, Zhang Qing was still standing guard. His eyes darkened slightly. In the night, his white robes were as pure as snow, his beauty peerless. "Did anyone come?"
Zhang Qing nodded slightly. "Nuanyu came once, but I sent her away."
Shen Tingjiao waved a hand. "Let’s go."
Zhang Qing was still a bit hesitant. "Ninth Lord, Master Tang..."
Shen Tingjiao looked back at him, a trace of a smile touching his lips. "What, did you think I killed him?" His smile grew more brilliant, as radiant as spring flowers. "How could I lay a hand on him? It was merely a case of a gentleman being trapped by his own principles... Let’s go."
The next day, when Yin Zhuli returned to the Fu-Lu Prince's Mansion, Shen Tingjiao was busy fighting crickets with Zhang Qing. Seeing her, he hurriedly shouted, "Zhuli, come quickly and help me teach this butcher a lesson!"
Yin Zhuli couldn't help but laugh. "Ninth Lord, since you’ve acknowledged him as your adopted son, how can you still call him a butcher?"
Despite her words, she walked over to them and leaned down to watch the two crickets fighting for their lives. Shen Tingjiao leaned against her back, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Where did you stay last night? I went to the Yin residence, but you weren't there."
Yin Zhuli used a piece of Riqin grass to goad the two crickets into combat, answering nonchalantly, "Something came up at Guangling Pavilion, so I stayed there. It was the middle of the night; why weren't you sleeping properly instead of looking for me?"
The Ninth Lord jumped in frustration at her matter-of-fact tone. "You are my Princess Consort! Why do you think I was looking for you!"
Seeing that he was about to make a scene again, Yin Zhuli quickly pulled him into her arms. "Of course I know I'm the Ninth Lord's Princess Consort. Be good now, look at the crickets. Ah, look at this yellow one, it's so fierce!"
Shen Tingjiao looked quite proud. "Hmph, naturally. Any expert in cricket fighting knows that 'red is not as good as yellow.' How could his be a match for mine!"
Yin Zhuli flattered him without blinking. "Indeed, what cricket could possibly be a match for our Ninth Lord? Our Ninth Lord is invincible in the world of crickets!"
"That's more like it." The Ninth Lord nodded, though he later felt there was something... well, a subtle error in that...
At noon, the Qu residence sent someone to urge them again. The situation was urgent and could wait no longer.
While Yin Zhuli was deep in thought over her strategy, a maid came from outside to call her. "Head, someone has come from the Yin estate. They say Master Tang requests your return."
Yin Zhuli straightened her clothes, preparing to head out. She had always treated Tang Yin’s words as sacred commands. The Ninth Lord continued with his painting, his expression cool and detached, showing neither joy nor anger.
When she returned to the Guilai Residence, Tang Yin was still at the Linxi Waterside Pavilion. The autumn sun was high, the light thin as it peeked through the floating clouds. His green robes were washed until they were slightly pale, yet they fit him perfectly. Sunlight scattered across his lapels, making his sleeves shimmer, giving his entire being a crisp, pure aura—like moonlight echoing beside a mountain stream.
Yin Zhuli walked up to him. He was sitting by the water in a very relaxed posture, a gentle smile on his face. "Did I make things difficult for you, Zhuli?"
Yin Zhuli shook her head. He reached out and lightly stroked her long hair. "Zhuli, the reason I have always disagreed with you making an enemy of the Qu family was not entirely out of consideration for your father-daughter bond with Qu Tianji."
He rarely mentioned Qu Tianji. Yin Zhuli looked up and saw a faint smile in his eyes, as warm as a March breeze. "I only thought that if you encountered difficulties in the future, he, as your father, would at least look after you."
Yin Zhuli was always submissive before him. "Your concerns are always justified, Master. But I don't need the Qu family to look after me."
Tang Yin nodded slightly, his gaze drifting toward the green water, lost in thought. "Yes. Today, I realized that my disciple has never needed anyone to look after her."
Yin Zhuli sat side-by-side with him, her voice light with a smile. "Yes. As long as you are by my side, Master, that is enough."
Tang Yin caressed her long hair. The movement was so tender it created an illusion of eternity. "Zhuli, actually, I have always had something to say to you. I just haven't found the right opportunity over the years."
Yin Zhuli suddenly stood up. "I just remembered I have some business at Tianyi Workshop. Master, I’ll be going now."
Tang Yin took her hand, making her sit back down. "Zhuli, when you were first born, Biwu once entrusted you to me, asking me to take you away from the Yin family and look after you well." He found that he could still remember those few words from Yin Biwu that day, and his mood lightened slightly. "I knew you were not living well in the Yin family, yet I still clung to my personal grudge and let you grow up here. I swore to take revenge, yet my strength was insufficient, and I have delayed until now. Thinking back on these twenty years, I am truly ashamed."
"Master! Have you been reading Wanyue poetry lately? Why have you learned to grieve for spring and mourn for autumn? You shouldn't learn those sour sentiments of scholars." Yin Zhuli picked up a pebble and skipped it across the water, the sound crisp and pleasant. "If it weren't for you, I don't know what Yin Zhuli would have become."
Tang Yin held her hand. The warmth made Yin Zhuli feel momentarily flustered, but his expression was as if he were holding a child's hand. "You have spent too much time by my side over the years, making our relationship as master and disciple very close and intuitive." He smiled innocently. "Sometimes, I can't even tell if the one standing before me is Biwu or you. But Zhuli, I am not your god. I am merely a part of your past, a memory."
The happiness had come so suddenly, only to vanish in an instant. Yin Zhuli looked into his eyes; they were like a bottomless whirlpool in the sea—gentle on the surface, but with dangerous, surging currents within. She was merely a youth standing by the edge of that whirlpool; she had thrown a pebble while playing, only to find herself falling in after it, unable to let even a single strand of hair float to the surface.
She couldn't reach the shore, so she could only manage a bitter smile. "Master, let's leave these words for another day. For now... will you leave Chang'an with me for a while?"
Tang Yin looked at her calmly, the smile on his face unfading. "Alright. Will you stay to have dinner with me tonight? It has been a long time since we shared a meal at the same table."
Yin Zhuli’s hands remained in his palms. The warmth left her soul entranced. "Your disciple obeys."
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