The next morning, Su Yan had Xiaobei prepare the horses and rode with Jinghong Zhui to Qiancao Slope, west of the outer city.
When they arrived, they found that Lingguang Temple, which once stood nestled by the mountains and rivers, had been completely demolished. In its place, a grand academy was under construction.
Su Yan wanted a panoramic view of the Heavenly Works Academy site, so Jinghong Zhui used his qinggong to find the best vantage point—an overhanging rock bed halfway up the mountain.
There was a narrow path from the mountain’s base, so the two of them rode up on horseback. When they reached the rock bed, Su Yan noticed that iron chains had been installed along the edge, likely to prevent visitors from falling. The chains were new and gleamed without a trace of rust, clearly a recent addition—perhaps set up by the construction team while working on the academy.
From this high vantage point, the entire Heavenly Works Academy was visible. The new institution was at least three times the size of the old Lingguang Temple. To preserve the streams and woodlands on both sides, the academy had been designed in a long, deep layout, with tiered structures stretching up the mountainside in an imposing display.
Most of the main buildings and key areas were already completed, and workers were currently focused on landscaping. Since it was deep winter, no greenery had been planted yet, making the scenery appear stark and desolate. But Su Yan could already envision how, once spring arrived and the gardens were in place, the academy would exude an air of serene elegance.
He nodded in satisfaction and murmured, “At least someone knows how to get things done.”
Jinghong Zhui asked, “Who is my lord referring to?”
Before Su Yan could answer, a deep, melodious voice rang out from the snowy forest behind them. “Are you talking about Ben Wang?”
The voice was unmistakable—pleasant to the ears, yet enough to make Su Yan’s scalp tingle. With great reluctance, he turned around, clasped his hands, and greeted, “Yu Wang, peace and prosperity to you.”
Jinghong Zhui’s brows shot up as he instinctively rested his fingers on the hilt of his sword—Yu Wang had been hiding nearby, and I failed to notice?
He remembered the time he’d been on the run from Wei Jun’s citywide manhunt and had no choice but to seek refuge in Yu Wang’s manor. There, he had unexpectedly encountered Yu Wang himself and even exchanged dozens of moves with him—without gaining the upper hand. That was when he realized that this infamous playboy prince was actually a formidable martial artist. His mastery of the long spear was unparalleled, and now, judging by his aura, his inner strength was just as profound.
Jinghong Zhui asked himself: Could I kill Yu Wang?
After careful thought, he concluded that in a direct fight, his chances of victory were less than thirty percent. But if he launched a sneak attack… No matter how strong someone was, they always had moments of weakness. If he could seize just one opening, his success rate might rise to sixty or seventy percent.
Back in Pingliang, in that temporary residence, he had stumbled upon that letter—and only then did he realize that Yu Wang was even more despicable and unworthy than Shen Qi!
Shen Qi was ruthless and opportunistic, but at least he had taken blows on Su Yan’s behalf and suffered severe punishment. A few days ago, when he had attacked Shen Qi at Plum Immortal Spring, Su Yan had clearly tried to protect him. Although it was likely out of some twisted sense of guilt, it at least meant that Su Yan didn’t truly hate Shen Qi.
This had made Jinghong Zhui hesitate—if he assassinated Shen Qi in secret, would it leave an emotional scar on Su Yan? Like cutting out a festering wound, would it also harm the surrounding flesh and nerves? That uncertainty had kept him from making a move.
But Yu Wang was different. Lord Su despised him with a passion. If he were eliminated, the Lord would surely be pleased.
Just as the thought of drawing his sword crossed Jinghong Zhui’s mind, Yu Wang seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere. His sharp gaze immediately locked onto him.
“The Imperial Censor’s bodyguard… I’ve seen you before,” Yu Wang stated with certainty.
Su Yan had no idea that Jinghong Zhui had once infiltrated Yu Wang’s manor, but he did recall that, back at Lingguang Temple, Ah Zhui had disguised himself as a woman to assassinate Wei Jun—with Yu Wang present at the scene.
If Yu Wang recognized him now, things could get messy.
Jinghong Zhui remained silent like a mute, his face cold and unreadable.
Yu Wang stared into his eyes for a moment, then suddenly let out a sneering laugh. “I remember now. Good skills. You looked down on my offer, and sure enough, you ran off to be Censor Su’s watchdog. Good choice.”
Su Yan could feel the intense killing intent emanating from Jinghong Zhui and feared that he might lose control and attack Yu Wang on the spot, bringing disaster upon himself. Hastily, Su Yan stepped forward to block Jinghong Zhui, speaking to Yu Wang, “Why is Wangye here?”
Yu Wang smiled. “A chance encounter is better than an invitation. Naturally, it is because fate has brought us here.”
Something felt off to Su Yan. His mind turned quickly, and he suddenly understood—those two young men chatting at the street food stall were likely planted by Yu Wang, meant to lure him away from the Crown Prince and into this trap.
Annoyed, he sneered bluntly, “I fear this isn’t fate, but rather waiting by the tree for the rabbit. For a dignified Wangye to willingly play the role of an idle farmer, then I, as the rabbit, have nothing to feel resentful about, wouldn’t Wangye agree?”
Yu Wang pretended not to understand the sarcasm, his face still carrying a lazy smile. “Since you’re here, why not take a look? After all, the establishment of the Heavenly Works Academy was first and foremost due to your dedication and efforts. I am merely the executor of your vision.”
As he spoke, he extended a hand toward Su Yan, inviting him to walk together.
Su Yan did want to take a closer look at the academy, and having Yu Wang, the one in charge, as a guide would be quite convenient.
However, he also despised the idea of walking alongside this rogue Wangye. He had a strong urge to pick up a stone from the ground, smash it into Wangye’s face, and curse, “Writing those filthy love letters—shameless!”
He struggled internally for a long moment. Yu Wang’s hand remained extended, unwavering. Su Yan felt caught in an awkward position. After some thought, he decided that public matters should remain separate from personal grievances. No matter how much he loathed Yu Wang, personal grudges should not interfere with official duties.
Thus, he sidestepped the outstretched hand and instead made a “please, after you” gesture, his attitude clear in its distance and rejection.
Yu Wang smiled, seemingly unbothered, and gracefully mounted his horse, leading the way down the mountain.
Su Yan turned to see that Jinghong Zhui’s killing intent had not yet faded. He grasped his wrist briefly and whispered, “He is, after all, a Wangye. You cannot act against him in public.”
—Meaning, in private, it’s an option?
Jinghong Zhui finally restrained his inner energy and nodded. “Rest assured, my lord, I know the limits.”
The two mounted their horses and soon arrived at the gates of the Heavenly Works Academy at the foot of the mountain.
Yu Wang, sitting alone on his horse at the entrance, nodded at Su Yan. “Come inside with Ben Wang.”
The three of them entered the academy on foot, where they saw a grand, intricately carved relief on the facing screen wall.
On the front side was a vast depiction of the nine provinces of China—the sun and moon rising, stars twinkling, and mountains and rivers illuminated in a glorious light.
On the reverse side was a world map. It was based on Su Yan’s own hand-drawn version, which he had once presented to the Emperor and the Grand Secretaries. This had been further refined by referencing the palace’s treasured Great Ming Hun Yi Tu and consulting Western missionaries serving at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, making the continental outlines more detailed and accurate.
Beside the relief of the nine provinces, eight bold characters were engraved in iron-brush strokes:
“My life is finite, but truth is boundless!”
…Wasn’t this the academy motto he had drafted in the Preliminary Charter of Heavenly Works Academy? Judging by the handwriting, it was Yu Wang’s own.
Su Yan stepped forward, gently brushing his fingers over the awe-inspiring relief.
Yu Wang said solemnly, “I have named this wall the ‘Truth Wall.’ From now on, all teachers and students entering the academy must recite the motto and pay respects to this wall.”
Su Yan touched the world map—so close to its future counterpart—and sighed deeply. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. May this place mark the beginning of our pursuit of knowledge and truth.”
As they walked further inside, Yu Wang patiently introduced the various sections and buildings of the academy. Su Yan noticed that, in addition to the usual lecture halls, study rooms, library, Confucian shrine, and faculty residences, the academy also featured specialized warehouses for equipment, medicines, cold storage, and hazardous materials, as well as independent experimental zones.
The experimental areas were particularly striking. As he had envisioned, they were divided into different disciplines: astronomy and geography, physics, chemistry, medicine, light industry, and mechanical engineering. High-risk experimental zones were also well-isolated for safety.
Though he had briefly mentioned these ideas in his rushed draft of the charter, he had not gone into great detail. Yet somehow, Yu Wang had grasped the essence of his vision, refined the blueprint, and brought it to life with meticulous execution.
Su Yan’s emotions fluctuated as he walked, his steps unconsciously quickening until he was walking alongside Yu Wang. He asked, “My manuscript—it’s with you, isn’t it?”
Yu Wang took out a blue-covered booklet from his robe and handed it to him.
The booklet had been repeatedly read over the past six months—the cover was worn, its spine had broken multiple times and had been re-stitched with tougher silk thread. Opening it, Su Yan found that every blank space was filled with tiny annotations in Yu Wang’s handwriting.
Su Yan was slightly moved. He carefully read a few pages and found that the notes were insightful, incorporating various schools of thought, though not always perfectly aligned. He couldn’t help but ask, “Did Wangye consult others on this draft?”
Yu Wang nodded. “I petitioned my royal brother to issue an announcement across the provinces, recruiting a group of scholars to assist. Some are renowned Confucian scholars who have run academies before, but more are self-taught experts in natural philosophy. They have refined your preliminary draft into a finalized charter. I will have it sent to you soon—please review it and suggest any modifications. Also, take a look at these scholars and see who might be worth keeping as faculty.
“As for the scribbles in this booklet, some were thoughts from our discussions. My annotations are not entirely coherent—I fear I may have contradicted myself at times. Please excuse the inconsistencies.”
Issuing a public recruitment notice, assembling an academic team, even securing the first group of instructors—this was astonishing efficiency and execution.
Su Yan had no choice but to admit—he had been wrong.
Not only had Yu Wang not ruined his efforts, but he had also done everything possible to expand them. The initial results had already exceeded Su Yan’s expectations by far.
Holding the booklet in his hands, Su Yan reevaluated Yu Wang. This man was both literate and skilled in martial arts, capable and decisive, with strong organizational and leadership abilities. If only he could clean up his personal life and stop indulging in dubious relationships with men, he might truly accomplish great things.
Business was business, but private grudges were still recorded in bloody red ink on the ledger of his heart. Until this debt was repaid, there would be no talk of settling accounts!
Yu Wang read the starkly contrasting emotions in Su Yan’s gaze and smiled faintly before bringing up the academy’s motto. “Aside from the ‘Wall of Truth’ at the front gate, there is also a ‘Pledge Stele’ at the back entrance. Can you guess what’s inscribed on it?”
Su Yan seemed to have a realization but shook his head sheepishly.
Yu Wang smiled. “Looks like Qinghe has already figured it out. ‘The flames of truth burn the hand, but may I be the one to carry the fire.’ Your will is the will of this academy; your oath is the oath of all instructors and students.”
Su Yan felt his cheeks warm. He turned his face slightly to the side, pretending to look at the scenic pavilion at the top of the slope.
Yu Wang continued, “The academy has also built a ‘Hall of Origins,’ where portraits of past deans, distinguished scholars, and renowned figures will be displayed for future students to admire. As the founder, Qinghe, you should take the lead.”
At this moment, whether he accepted or rejected the idea, Su Yan felt utterly embarrassed.
Yu Wang noticed the faint blush at the tips of Su Yan’s ears and added, “Perhaps a hundred generations from now, when academies of all disciplines flourish across the Nine Provinces, statues of you will stand in each one, proclaiming you as their revered forefather.”
Su Yan’s tolerance for shame hit its limit. He pressed his lips together in silence, letting a gust of cold wind scatter the heat on his face—though it couldn’t quell the surging pride in his heart.
Yu Wang, sensing that his ‘heart-to-heart’ had been sufficiently effective, knew not to overdo it. He took back the booklet from Su Yan’s hands with great care, as if treasuring it, and tucked it into his own robes. Seizing the moment, he brushed his palm against Su Yan’s and said, “It gets colder as we ascend Lingguang Mountain. You should wear another layer.” With that, he began unfastening his dark cloak, embroidered with silver dragons.
Behind them, Jinghong Zhui coldly interjected, “No need to trouble yourself, Wangye. A four-clawed coiling dragon cloak is not something my lord can afford to accept.” As he spoke, he draped a frost-colored cloak trimmed with white fox fur over Su Yan’s shoulders and fastened the collar for him.
When tying the fastenings, Jinghong Zhui didn’t step in front of Su Yan but instead reached around from behind, his arms circling Su Yan’s shoulders. At a glance, it looked as if he was embracing him.
The movement was so natural and unconscious that even Su Yan didn’t find anything amiss. He was used to being tended to meticulously by his personal guard, so he stood still and let him proceed.
Yu Wang’s long, deep-set brows twitched in displeasure—this display of closeness between master and servant was excessive.
He had already confirmed that this so-called “Jinghong Zhui” was the same masked intruder in black who had infiltrated his residence half a year ago. Back then, he had only deduced that the man had some past connection with Su Yan—enough to risk offending a prince just to stand up for him.
Now, it seemed that Jinghong Zhui wasn’t content with merely being a bodyguard. He harbored thoughts he shouldn’t, and what’s worse, he made no effort to conceal them.
And what was Su Yan’s attitude toward all this?
It was certainly worth pondering over… Ponder over my *ss! A mere bodyguard daring to set his sights on someone he fancied—clearly, he was tired of living!
Yu Wang, both sour and infuriated, kept his expression composed and said to Su Yan, “I have some private words to discuss with Qinghe. I saw you looking at the ‘Brocade Mist Pavilion’ atop the slope earlier—why don’t we talk there?”
Su Yan immediately felt a sense of wariness, weighing what exactly these so-called “private words” entailed. Knowing Yu Wang’s usual antics, the odds of him attempting to sabotage something were quite high.
Seeing Su Yan hesitate, Jinghong Zhui immediately spoke up in his stead. “If Wangye has something to say, you might as well speak here. A true man has nothing to hide—why be so secretive?”
Yu Wang cast him a scornful glance. “How audacious. This Wangye is speaking with Imperial Censor Su—since when does a mere guard have the right to interrupt? If word got out, people might think Su Censor fails to discipline his subordinates and tarnishes his own reputation.”
Su Yan, worried that Yu Wang might take offense and lash out at Jinghong Zhui, decided it was better to comply. A pavilion was a pavilion, after all. It was open on all sides, and Ah Zhui could stand below and watch everything. Yu Wang surely wouldn’t have the audacity to attempt anything untoward in public. So, he nodded. “Let’s go.”
The small hill had been preserved as part of the academy’s landscape. Though no flowers or trees had been planted yet, the pathway was already paved, making the ascent fairly easy.
Reaching the top, Su Yan glanced down and immediately saw Jinghong Zhui standing at the foot of the slope, staring up at him unwaveringly, like a fierce and loyal mastiff ready to bare its fangs and tear apart any who dared threaten its master. The sight was both admirable and endearing, making Su Yan chuckle softly.
Yu Wang’s heart trembled at that smile and instinctively pulled Su Yan toward the pavilion’s curved railing.
Su Yan avoided his touch, found a corner, and sat down. He gestured for Yu Wang to sit across from him and sternly said, “I am an external official and should not be too close to a royal prince, lest it give rise to gossip.”
Yu Wang chuckled. “You’ve already been quite close—what’s the harm in sitting a little nearer?”
Su Yan’s face darkened, and he stood up. “If you’re only here for idle chatter, forgive me for not keeping you company. I’ll be taking my leave.”
Yu Wang quickly blocked the pavilion’s steps, reluctantly acknowledging that Su Yan, despite appearing socially adept, had absolutely no tolerance for frivolous remarks when it came to him. He could only discuss business—anything remotely improper would be shut down immediately.
Having spent a decade indulging in flirtations with young officials and literary scholars, Yu Wang had grown accustomed to playful banter in private settings. But with Su Yan, he realized this habit had to change—lest he provoke displeasure.
Since Su Yan couldn’t leave, he sat back down and issued a warning. “My guard and the academy workers are all watching. Wangye should mind your words and actions.”
Yu Wang was utterly at a loss. With a sigh, he distanced himself, sat opposite Su Yan, and pulled a letter from his robe.
Su Yan recognized his own handwriting on the envelope. His eyelid twitched, and fury began to rise in his chest.
Yu Wang said, “I racked my brains to compose a love letter for Qinghe, only to receive these cryptic words in reply. Care to explain their meaning?”
Su Yan rolled his eyes skyward. Explain? It meant: you poked my wound, so screw you! D*mn it, I haven’t even settled our old score, and now you’re sexually harassing me in writing? The fact that I didn’t curse you outright shows incredible restraint!
Yu Wang had already suspected it wasn’t anything pleasant. Seeing Su Yan’s expression now only confirmed that the reply was likely a string of profanities. So, with an air of sincerity, he said, “I couldn’t understand it. I wondered if it was some dialect. And since your reply seemed to mention my mother, I brought it to Cining Palace, where the Empress Dowager has a nanny well-versed in regional dialects, to have it deciphered.”
Su Yan was shocked, nearly jumping up. “You! You showed the reply to the Empress Dowager?! Did a dog eat your brain?!”
If the Empress Dowager understood the vulgar words in that letter, wouldn’t she be furious enough to faint and punish him severely for desecrating the Mother of the Nation? If this matter was taken seriously and His Majesty found out, he certainly wouldn’t let a treasonous minister—who dared to curse his mother in such a way—off lightly.
Yu Wang, that menace! He did this on purpose, didn’t he?! It had to be deliberate revenge—vicious and despicable!
Su Yan was so angry that a thin layer of moisture welled up at the corners of his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he glared furiously at Yu Wang and lunged forward to snatch the letter from his hands, hoping to make up for his mistake by destroying the evidence first.
Yu Wang took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him into an embrace. He laughed heartily. “Calm down, I was just teasing you. Earlier, you kept throwing around ‘F*** your mother.’ Did I ever hold that against you?”
To be honest, Su Yan was quite wary of getting physically close to Yu Wang. It wasn’t just because of the lingering trauma from that forced encounter at the waterside pavilion, but also because this man was like a walking beast of desire. Su Yan feared that his rampant pheromones and masterful teasing would once again short-circuit his brain.
Now, having fallen into the trap, he could feel the searing warmth of Yu Wang’s chest against him, while the man’s hand was kneading the sensitive spot on his waist. His legs grew weak against his will.
D*mn it… I didn’t control my aggro range and stepped right into his debuff aura! Su Yan cursed in his heart.
