“From this day forward, you will wear this mask.”

The person in his memory sat upright on the high platform. The candlelight flickered, illuminating his face, half in light and half in shadow. A faint smile touched the corners of his lips, yet it was the epitome of heartlessness. He spoke softly, and those few words became a nightmare that haunted him for years.

“You are to be a dissolute Heir, a profligate and decadent dandy, a useless, idle good-for-nothing.”

“Let them scorn you, ridicule you, and ignore you.”

“Then, when they believe victory is in their grasp, when they are arrogant and self-important, you will crush them under your foot, one by one. Show them—what is the true, legitimate line.”

Ten-year-old Chu Jin said nothing. His gaze did not waver in the slightest as he watched that person reach out, offer him the imperial seal, and grant him a new life.

And so, he put on the mask, making pleasantries with those harboring ill intentions, and calmly maneuvering around those filled with murderous intent.

But he did not know what this heart of his was for.

......

“Get up.”

At twelve, it was still that same person. He stood high above, amidst a pool of blood, looking down at the youth struggling for his last breath at his feet. His expression was cold, as if looking at an inanimate object.

“You are to establish the eternal glory of Great Qin, to live for the common people and die for the state. You are to see the myriad faces of this world for me, and watch the treacherous officials and rebels die at our hands.”

He crouched down, looking directly into Chu Jin’s dark eyes, which were etched with unwillingness.

“You must watch—watch as for the next hundred years, this Chu Family’s world becomes the backbone of Great Qin, with all nations coming to pay tribute!”

That person gave him a reason to live, and at the same time, used a set of shackles to lock his life down firmly.

So he held on to that last breath, crawled back from the brink of death, dragging a winding trail of blood from the age of twelve to fifteen, a path so long it seemed to have no end.

But he still did not know what this heart of his was for.

......

“My time is short.”

On the last day before his departure, he saw that person for the last time. He sat on the bed, lightly wiping the blood from the corner of his lips, his wide robes concealing his emaciated and sickly frame.

“This journey to Yanling concerns the great cause of unifying the world. The Prince of Yanling, Xiao Zhuo, is suspicious by nature and will likely send people to watch you in secret. You need not act rashly; just follow his wishes. If anything comes up, I will contact you.”

Chu Jin heard a faint laugh. “After this farewell, we should not meet again.”

There was no reluctance, no worry, no sadness. Just like the first time they met, they were like two complete strangers.

“You are me, and I am you,” that person said. “Besides me, no one else can understand you.”

Under Chu Jin’s cold gaze, he began to laugh. “Resign yourself to it. This is the kind of people we are.”

Carrying this curse, Chu Jin left his homeland. As a Hostage Prince, he journeyed far to Yanling and entered Heshan Academy.

Since ancient times, those who have survived the heartless imperial families are all, in a sense, broken people. Some go mad, some become cold-blooded, some are blind of heart.

He grew up amidst the life-and-death struggles for royal power, witnessing fratricide and bloody strife, no different from those so-called brothers of his—inhuman. Their statuses were opposed; he had originally wanted nothing to do with the people of the academy. So he showed them a false face, confused them with false words, and treated them with a false heart.

At first, he handled it with ease, no different from the dull and tedious life he had led for years. He didn't know when it started, but he discovered someone interesting.

Someone who was also hiding secrets, also wearing a mask, whose words contradicted their heart and who never said what they meant, which made Chu Jin all the more curious about what he was really like.

In the beginning, it was indeed curiosity, but he didn’t take it to heart. He was still as infuriating as ever, as provocative as ever. But inadvertently, from that detached facade, he caught a glimpse of a soft interior.

He didn't even know when it happened, but his Sword Heart, which he had clung to for so many years, was also seen through by him.

This person’s existence was like a splash of bright color in an otherwise ordinary life. It made him fond of everything associated with him, and even his entire life at the academy became more vivid.

Even if one is inhuman, one still longs for a soulmate. Otherwise, the next hundred years, spent all alone, would be far too difficult to bear.

If only someone could recognize the sound of my heart, if only someone could know my suffering, if only someone would allow me to drag my weary body and find rest midway on the road.

If so, then I will—

“Trust me.”

Chu Jin was suddenly pulled back to his senses, Shen Mengzhi's promise to him before this trial began still echoing in his ears.

He sat alone in the private room. Outside the window, fragrant breezes wafted by, accompanied by the languid sounds of zithers. Lowering his gaze, he could see the graceful women in the Earth Tier flower house, indulging in wine and music—the desires of money and worldly things.

He was very familiar with these things, because he often visited the pleasure districts of Old Qin, seeking pleasure, spending fortunes on drink, diligently playing the part of a useless drunkard to put those people at ease.

Chu Jin leaned against the window, his gaze unfocused, watching the scene of debauchery below.

To look up is to awaken from a dream; to look down is to sink into drunken indulgence. The path all beings take is decided in a single thought.

What about him, then?

Should he continue to blind his eyes and ears, to be a heart-blind, inhuman creature, or should he awaken amidst this decadent world and face the heart he had deliberately avoided for so many years?

Senior Brother, I have cut off my own retreat to offer you my true heart. You must, you absolutely must not let me down.

Shen Mengzhi paused slightly.

Yin Yu noticed his distraction and reminded him softly, “Young Master, what is it?”

Shen Mengzhi returned to his senses. After a moment, he smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. I thought I heard someone call me. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

He focused his attention and listened as Yin Yu slowly explained the rules. “For this trial, Recognize the Heart, the two Young Masters must know each other’s hearts. This is the note left by Young Master Chu. If you can complete its content, you will pass.”

Shen Mengzhi took the note. The others gathered around, asking curiously, “What is it?”

Qi Yu had just failed to decipher Song Sifan’s note, and his face still wore a hint of frustration. “I hope it’s not like Song Sifan’s, some incomprehensible line of poetry. I can barely recognize a few words!”

Shen Mengzhi paused, then his fingertips moved lightly, unfolding the piece of paper. When he saw what was written on it, he was slightly taken aback.

It was a blank sheet of paper.

Everyone gasped when they saw it. Qi Yu said in astonishment, “A blank paper? Was the wrong one taken?”

Xue Qin shook his head, hesitating. “Brother Chu must have his reasons for doing this.”

But this was truly a blank sheet of paper. How could anyone complete it! To the others, it seemed like a deliberate attempt to make things difficult.

While everyone was either shocked or doubtful, Shen Mengzhi lowered his eyes and stared at the blank paper for a long time before a faint smile appeared.

He looked at Yin Yu and said warmly, “I have answered.”

At these words, everyone’s jaw nearly dropped. Qi Yu’s eyes were about to pop out of his head. “Wait?! Jiang Zhen, you haven’t written anything!”

He grabbed the brush from the table and held it in front of Shen Mengzhi, saying urgently, “You should at least write something! Brother Chu found you in the first two trials, don’t lose to him so easily!”

Xue Qin, having recovered from his initial shock, also said hesitantly, “Senior Brother Jiang, although I’m not very familiar with Brother Chu, I personally believe he wants you to write the sound of his heart on this paper.”

The others nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes.”

But no matter how they tried to persuade him, Shen Mengzhi remained unmoved, his expression gentle yet firm. Facing everyone’s questions, he only smiled and said softly, “Hasn’t he already placed the answer before me?”

Yin Yu’s expression was as calm as ever. “Young Master Jiang, are you sure?”

Shen Mengzhi nodded and said slowly, “I’m sure.”

Yin Yu gazed at him in silence for a long while before finally smiling faintly and saying, “Please follow me.”

Hearing this, everyone was stunned.