The door marked the boundary, with thunderstorms raging outside.

That day, when Shen Mengzhi heard that voice outside the door, he knew that the peaceful life he had lived for so many years could only end tonight.

The past was too complicated, and he had no desire to get involved again, but upon hearing that person's name, he was still stunned for a moment.

—The Prince Regent of Great Qin, Chu Jin.

How could it be him? He was clearly... how could it be him?

Shen Mengzhi's mind was in turmoil, but he heard the person outside continue, "Chu Jin has always been skilled in scheming. Ordinary people cannot get close to him, but he doesn't know your identity yet. To him, you are still Jiang Zhen from the Heshan Academy of the past."

"Only towards the you of today would he possibly let down his guard."

Shen Mengzhi listened without a word, standing stiffly before the door, but this glaring silence seemed to sting the person outside. He slammed his fist on the door, and his suddenly raised voice pierced through the crack of the door, word by word, as if in accusation—

"Do you intend to spend your whole life hiding like this? How long do you plan to hide in this academy, deceiving yourself?!"

"Shen Mengzhi, don't you want to clear your name!"

"Are you going to face the ancestors of the Shen Clan with the status of a condemned official!!!"

...

The nights at Heshan were still too cold. Shen Mengzhi subconsciously wrapped his cloak tighter.

He moved his stiff and cold legs and slowly stood up. Even though he had long known that Chu Jin was not dead, upon seeing the familiar figure again, he was overcome by a huge sense of absurdity that made his throat dry and his words fail.

After a long moment, Shen Mengzhi finally spoke in a low voice, "The person who helped me at the foot of the mountain just now, was that you?"

That hairpin, to have such astonishing force, such a tricky angle, only Chu Jin could have managed it.

Chu Jin's figure was hidden in the darkness, his expression indistinct. "It was me."

He didn't explain why he had appeared here, so Shen Mengzhi didn't press him. He took a deep breath, trying to make the expression on his face look more natural, and placed his right hand on the bronze door knocker, asking, "Coming in?"

Chu Jin gave him a deep look and followed.

The two walked silently through the courtyard corridor, the flickering candlelight casting two long shadows, one behind the other, on the walls. The snow-bearing ginkgo tree in the courtyard was said to have been planted by Daoist Xuanji himself. The towering ancient tree shaded nearly half the academy, and wisps of moonlight seeped through the sparse leaves and branches, shining on the first snow on the green bricks and tiled eaves.

It was empty under the tree, the golden fallen leaves piled into a heap, clearly swept by someone.

Chu Jin's gaze lingered on the ginkgo tree for a moment before he asked, seemingly casually, "You've been living here all this time?"

Shen Mengzhi was walking ahead. Without pausing, he merely hummed in response.

Chu Jin said, "Oh," but his gaze slowly shifted to Shen Mengzhi.

After a few more calm steps, he lowered his eyes to stare at the back of the person before him and said in a strange tone, "Then why..."

In his memory, Chu Jin rarely spoke in such a tone. It felt like a turbulent undercurrent beneath a calm sea, as if monstrous waves would rise in the next second. Shen Mengzhi subconsciously slowed his pace.

Then he heard him say, "Why couldn't I find you at Heshan Academy during the War of Yan-Qin?"

Shen Mengzhi had anticipated many possibilities for what he might say next, but never this one. His feet faltered, and for a moment, he almost couldn't control his expression.

Whether it was an interrogation or a questioning, whether asking why he was here or what his purpose was, Shen Mengzhi had foolproof plans to secure himself.

But Chu Jin had asked, 'why couldn't I find you'.

This gave him the illusion that... he had come looking specifically for him.

The thought flashed through his mind, and Shen Mengzhi then gave a helpless, private smile, pushing it to the back of his mind. It must have been during the War of Yan-Qin, when Chu Jin sent people to monitor Heshan Academy and inadvertently discovered his absence, which aroused his suspicion.

After all, in Chu Jin's eyes, his identity was still "Jiang Zhen," a mere academy disciple skilled in letters but not martial arts. On what basis could he have survived after leaving the mountain during the war between the two states?

Shen Mengzhi thought for a moment and said in his usual tone, "There was a mishap at home. I went back to handle my father's funeral."

He had always rarely mentioned his family affairs. Chu Jin couldn't help but glance sideways, giving him a rather serious look.

The mottled light and shadows from the ginkgo tree cast themselves on the man's indifferent and serene profile, shrouding him in a layer of gloom, making him seem as indistinct as the moon in water. Even the faint, calm smile at the corner of his lips was hazy, as if it would dissipate at the slightest touch.

The next second, Shen Mengzhi looked up. "I didn't know you would send people to the academy after that."

At that time, Yanling and Old Qin were already at war. Heshan Academy, after all, belonged to Yanling. As the Former Crown Prince of Old Qin, Chu Jin must have expended considerable effort to plant spies in the academy.

Chu Jin smiled but said nothing, his gaze still resting on Shen Mengzhi.

Although he didn't say it, Shen Mengzhi could roughly guess why he wanted to monitor Heshan Academy. Firstly, because Heshan was located in a strategic area and information hub, it was key to conquering the Twelve Peaks of Yanling. Secondly, because Heshan Academy gathered the sons of Yanling's high-ranking officials, civil ministers, and military generals. By keeping an eye on these fellows, there was a chance to grasp the movements of Yanling's courtiers.

For a time, neither spoke again. When it came to old matters of state and family, the two tacitly avoided the topic.

After a moment of silence, Shen Mengzhi spoke, "Actually, I wasn't the only one. Qi Yu and the others have come looking for me over the years."

"Ten years ago, on your way back to Old Qin from Yanling, you were assassinated. Everyone thought you were dead. It wasn't until Great Qin appointed a Prince Regent that we learned you were still alive. Qi Yu came running over, saying he had been crying at the wrong grave for ten years and had burned so much paper money for you in vain."

Hearing this, Chu Jin chuckled. "Why would he cry for me? He was crying over the hundred taels I owe him."

After speaking, an idea suddenly flashed in his mind, and he pressed, "And you?"

Did you cry?

Of course, Chu Jin didn't ask the latter half of the question, but Shen Mengzhi knew what he meant and smiled. "No."

Chu Jin hadn't held much hope, but he still paused before letting out a low laugh. "Truly heartless."

The two turned a dim corner, and the plaque of the Firefly Study came into view from a distance.

The Firefly Study was deep within the academy, in a secluded and quiet location with few people. It was Shen Mengzhi's residence.

Just as he placed his hand on the door, he heard the person behind him say, "Is there nothing you want to ask me?"

Shen Mengzhi replied without thinking, "If I ask, will you answer?"

The two had just met again, barely maintaining an appearance of peace. In reality, each harbored their own thoughts. This fragile relationship could be broken with a single poke, so naturally, he didn't believe Chu Jin would give him the answers without any guard up.

Chu Jin glanced over, as if talking to himself. "How would you know if you don't try."

His voice was quite soft, and Shen Mengzhi didn't hear clearly. He turned back and asked, "What?"

The latter said nonchalantly, "I sneezed."

"..."

Speechless, Shen Mengzhi turned back. When he applied some force with his hand, the wooden door creaked open, and warm candlelight shone out, followed by a cozy warmth. The two entered the inner room, one after the other. The Firefly Study wasn't large, but it was spacious enough for one person. The room's furnishings were the same as they were years ago; even the objects had hardly been changed. Everything slowly overlapped with Chu Jin's memories.

Shen Mengzhi took off his snow-dusted outer robe. When he looked back, Chu Jin was standing before the shrine, his eyes lowered, looking at something unknown.

There were no offerings to any ornate gods or buddhas on the table, only a few simple memorial tablets. One, in the center, read "The Spirit Tablet of My Late Father, Lord Jiang Qi." Two other tablets flanked it, one inscribed with "The Spirit Tablet of My Late Brother, Jiang Huan," while the other was completely blank, making it particularly conspicuous.

Chu Jin's gaze fell on the wordless tablet. After a long moment, he asked, "Whose tablet is this? Is it also for a family member?"

A wordless memorial tablet was extremely rare. The reason for the lack of words was either not knowing what to write or the subject being unspeakable.

Shen Mengzhi's fingers, resting on his lapel, paused. "...No."

He didn't seem to intend to explain, so Chu Jin withdrew his gaze and sat down on the tea couch.

On the square tea table was a vase with a thriving asparagus fern. He propped his cheek with one hand and idly fiddled with the feathery green leaves with his free hand, seeming to be in a good mood.

"How many days will you be staying in Xufang?" Shen Mengzhi took the opportunity to ask.

Chu Jin was still languid, completely composed. "About seven days. I have some matters to attend to, then I'll return to Fengling quickly."

After a pause, he suddenly asked out of the blue, "You've heard?"

"About the Qiu Jiang Painted Boat?" Shen Mengzhi slowly stirred the tea leaves in the pot. "I heard a little about it when I went down the mountain earlier."

The matter had spread like wildfire. It was said that the Prince Regent of Great Qin was going to hold a painted boat tour on the banks of the Autumn River in the former territory of Yanling. It was called a river tour, but was in fact a ritual offering. Since ancient times, Old Qin's sacrificial rituals had always been held on Weiyang Mountain next to the capital. Chu Jin's actions were inevitably provoking discussion.

Even he found it difficult to fathom Chu Jin's thoughts.

"Oh..." Chu Jin suddenly seemed interested. "Then what do you think?"

He was already used to the curses and criticisms people directed at him behind his back and had never taken them to heart. Accustomed to acting willfully, he was not easily swayed by outsiders. Yet, at this moment, he felt an uncharacteristic curiosity, wanting to know what the person before him was thinking.

Shen Mengzhi was taken aback by his question. He naturally knew how the world currently judged Chu Jin, and knew that this decision of his was tantamount to drawing fire upon himself. From Yanling's perspective, he was making a show of force against the remnants of Yanling; from Great Qin's perspective, he was trampling on ancestral teachings and colluding with traitors.

But he was Jiang Zhen now. Neither one of the remnants of Yanling nor a loyalist of Great Qin. He belonged to no faction and would not step into any conflict.

So Shen Mengzhi smiled, a faint smile rippling from the corners of his lips like melting snow, clear and without a trace of impurity.

"I think..." he said, "being a Prince Regent is quite difficult. Do you get tired?"

The swirling steam blurred his vision. For a second, Chu Jin's perpetually leisurely and content smile froze on his face.

He looked at Shen Mengzhi with an unreadable expression for a while, then suddenly closed his eyes, turned his head, and his gaze flew to the scenery outside the window.

After a long moment, he slowly said, "The state of the world does not yet permit me to say I am tired."

Shen Mengzhi asked, "Great Qin has already been established. What more do you want to do?"

Chu Jin chuckled at his words but didn't answer.

Since he wouldn't say, Shen Mengzhi didn't press further. He knew Chu Jin's ambition was far greater than this. From the way he had ascended to the position of Prince Regent step by step, and the methods he employed both within and outside the court, it was clear he was setting up an immense game of chess, one large enough to contain everyone under heaven.

Shen Mengzhi lowered his eyelids, his thoughts adrift.

He distractedly brewed tea for a while, then heard Chu Jin call out, "Jiang Zhen."

Shen Mengzhi looked up at the sound.

The young Prince Regent was leaning against the window, his gaze retracting from the winding mountain ranges in the distance. Through the curling tea steam, his eyes met Shen Mengzhi's directly.

"Accompany me to see the Xuan Study one more time."

The Xuan Study was in the north, in the opposite direction of the Firefly Study. It was where Chu Jin had lived back then. The two places were at opposite ends of the academy, facing each other from afar. To get from the Firefly Study to the Xuan Study, one had to cross nearly the entire academy.

Shen Mengzhi said he would be half a step behind, so Chu Jin arrived first, alone. The outer door of the Xuan Study was shut tight. A thin layer of winter snow on the eaves had whitened the black tiles. When he reached out to push the door, a rustling shower of silvery grains fell all over him.

Covered in snow, Chu Jin walked slowly into the courtyard.

The courtyard seemed to have been unvisited for many years. A few spiderweb-like cracks had already crept up the walls, clusters of weeds had sprung up in the corners, and a thick layer of snow had accumulated on the ground, making it seem rather desolate.

His gaze swept around fleetingly, pausing for an instant on an empty birdcage by the inner room door before moving on as lightly as a dragonfly touching water.

What he wanted was not outside. Chu Jin walked unhurriedly into the inner room. The moment he saw the arrangement inside, he was, for a rare moment, stunned.

Everything in the Xuan Study was as it had been. Unlike the slightly dilapidated state of the courtyard, every object was in the same place he had left it. Even after so many years, there was no dust, as if someone had been meticulously caring for it. The scattered scrolls on the desk were still spread out, and even the Lingzhi mushroom he had idly raised by the window was thriving. Every inch was filled with traces of a life once lived, as if the master of the house had only left for a short while.

With just one glance, he felt the sealed memories in his mind begin to surge unstoppably, as if breaking through the lush years and returning him to eight years ago.

Chu Jin walked to the desk and reached out to flick the casually opened pages of a book on the table. The scroll was slightly yellowed, its edges curled. An ink blot had bled across it, blurring most of the characters.

Only one line had been spared, black characters on white paper, each word distinct, as if carved into bone.

—To make heaven and earth my subjects, and have the myriad paths follow.

He recited it in a low voice, the few words rolling between his lips and teeth, carrying a bone-deep chill.

The few words written in his youth, when viewed now in the current situation, seemed shockingly startling.

Chu Jin lowered his eyelids, his face hidden in shadows where the moonlight could not reach, appearing dim and inscrutable. After a long moment, his fingers twitched slightly, and he gently closed the scroll. When he looked up again, his expression was calm.

He moved to the bookshelf behind the screen, searching for the object of his visit.

This bookshelf was placed in a corner. It looked inconspicuous but actually held a hidden mechanism. Chu Jin fumbled for a while, pulling out a few books in sequence. With a crisp click of a mechanism, a hidden compartment popped open.

He picked up the scroll from the hidden compartment. As he reset the mechanism, he heard the sound of footsteps on snow approaching from outside, slow and steady.

Chu Jin made no attempt to hide. He unhurriedly walked out from behind the screen and looked up, unexpectedly meeting a sight full of frost and snow.

Shen Mengzhi was leaning lightly against the doorframe, flakes of delicate snow dusting his dark hair and robes. He had his eyes lowered, and fine, melting snow clung to his lashes, glittering like tiny shattered pearls. Perhaps because it was too cold in this twelfth lunar month, his breaths formed white puffs that instantly dissipated into the vast world.

In his arms, he held a beautiful blue-headed parrot. Its feathers were brilliant and dazzling, with a lustrous sheen. A single glance revealed it to be a precious and pampered breed. In his arms, it seemed remarkably well-behaved.

The snow began to fall again.

Goose-feather snow drifted down peacefully behind him, blanketing the mortal world in white.