As the storm in Beijing intensifies, Gu Lian begins to see the layers beneath Ai Miao's plans—and the cost they may demand.
The news of the old king of Beijing's illness struck the palace like a sudden downpour, shattering its calm.
Gu Lian noticed Ai Miao had become even busier. Beyond his usual duties, he was constantly in and out of the Privy Council, meeting with officials from the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Rites. Sometimes, when Gu Lian left the study late at night, Ai Miao's quarters were still lit.
One morning, Gu Lian arrived early at the study hall and found Ai Miao already sorting through documents.
"What's the situation in Beijing?" Gu Lian asked directly.
Ai Miao slid a confidential report toward him. "All three princes have begun mobilizing troops. War is imminent."
"You still recommend supporting the eldest prince?"
"It's the best option for now." Ai Miao pointed at the map. "He holds the royal court and the strongest claim, but lacks popular support. The second prince commands the army, and the third has tribal backing. Supporting the eldest shows Da Sheng's commitment to legitimacy—and prepares us…"
"For Murong Che to replace him?" Gu Lian finished.
Ai Miao looked up, eyes deep. "Your Highness is perceptive."
Gu Lian paused. "Have you considered that Murong Che might not want any of this?"
"He has no choice." Ai Miao's voice was quiet. "From the moment he was born with those eyes, he was destined for power struggles."
Gu Lian recalled Murong Che's words: "If I can be used, it means I have value."
Perhaps Ai Miao was right. In this game, no one truly had a choice.
That afternoon, during archery class, A Lie noticed Murong Che was distracted. His arrows missed repeatedly.
"What's wrong?" A Lie asked. "Is it the news from Beijing?"
Murong Che said nothing.
Gu Lian approached. "If you're worried about family, just say so."
"I have no family to worry about." Murong Che's voice was low. "My mother died early. My father… never looked at me properly."
It was the first time Murong Che spoke of his past.
A Lie was stunned, unsure how to respond.
"But it's still your homeland," Gu Lian said.
Murong Che looked up, his mismatched eyes full of emotion. "Sir once said that for some, 'homeland' is an honor. For others, it's a shackle."
Ai Miao walked over. "What are you discussing?"
"Beijing's situation," Gu Lian replied. "Ai Miao, if you were Murong Che, what would you choose?"
Everyone fell silent.
Ai Miao thought for a long moment. "I'm not Murong Che. I won't choose for him. I only show him the most advantageous path."
"The most advantageous?" Murong Che suddenly laughed, bitter. "Sir, do you truly believe that path is best for me?"
It was the first time Murong Che questioned Ai Miao's decisions.
The air felt heavy.
That night, Gu Lian wandered alone in the imperial garden and found Ai Miao by the lotus pond.
"Still awake?"
Ai Miao turned. Moonlight lit his tired face. "Thinking."
"About what Murong Che said today?"
Ai Miao didn't deny it. "I always thought planning his future was helping him. But today I realized—I may never have asked what he truly wants."
Gu Lian was surprised. He'd never seen Ai Miao so uncertain.
"You… care about his thoughts?"
"He's my student," Ai Miao said carefully. "Naturally, I want him to do well."
Gu Lian sat beside him. "Do you remember when we were young? You always knew what I was thinking."
Ai Miao sat down. "You've grown, Your Highness. Your thoughts run deeper now."
"No," Gu Lian said softly. "You've changed. You used to share everything."
The lotus flowers bloomed quietly under the moonlight, their scent drifting.
"Your Highness," Ai Miao said after a long pause, "when I plan, I always leave a contingency."
Gu Lian turned to him. "Like what?"
"Like building a road in plain sight while sneaking through the shadows." Ai Miao's gaze was deep. "Some strategies have layers."
"Which layer are you using now?"
Ai Miao smiled faintly. "When the game ends, Your Highness will understand."
Gu Lian studied Ai Miao's profile in the moonlight and realized the Beijing game was far more complex than he'd imagined. Ai Miao had likely anticipated every twist.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Tomorrow, advise His Majesty to remain neutral for now."
"Alright."
Ai Miao looked at him deeply. "Thank you."
That simple phrase warmed Gu Lian's heart. Maybe they could still recover their old bond.
Three days later, urgent news arrived: Prince Murong Han had died from poisoning at a banquet. The second and third princes had officially gone to war.
Ai Miao's plans were thrown into chaos.
"We must adjust," he said, spreading maps across the study table. "The second prince now holds the most power, but the third has tribal support. I recommend…"
"What?" Gu Lian asked.
"Wait and watch." Ai Miao traced the map. "Let them weaken each other."
Gu Lian was surprised. "No support at all?"
"Too risky right now," Ai Miao said calmly. "And…"
"And what?"
Ai Miao looked up. "I received a report. The old king may still be alive."
The news hit like thunder. If true, everything would change.
"Is it reliable?"
"Still verifying," Ai Miao said. "But if it's true, we must consider another plan—restoring the old king."
Gu Lian understood immediately. "And Murong Che earns succession by saving him?"
"Your Highness is brilliant."
It was a bold plan. Risky.
"Does Murong Che know?"
"Not yet." Ai Miao rolled up the map. "Until we confirm the king's condition, we say nothing."
Gu Lian looked at Ai Miao, realizing his foresight ran deeper than he'd ever imagined. Ai Miao had prepared for every possibility.
That night, Gu Lian lay awake, thinking of Ai Miao's words: "Build a road in plain sight, sneak through the shadows."
He had a feeling Ai Miao was playing a very long game.
And its end might cost them more than they expected.
Even the thought of being separated from Ai Miao—if only briefly—made his heart tighten.