At the entrance of Lingyin Temple, Xin Jiuwei followed behind her father, her palms damp with a thin layer of sweat. Today, she had specially worn a lotus-root-colored brocade dress, with only a white magnolia in her hair, which was both elegant and understated.

"Remember," Mr. Xin whispered, "speak less and observe more."

Just as Xin Jiuwei was about to respond, she suddenly heard the clear sound of horses' hooves approaching from afar.

A procession of brocade-clad guards led the way, flanking two magnificent palanquins. The curtain of the first palanquin was lifted, revealing a face as bright as the morning sun—Princess Xiao Yuesheng, dressed in a moon-white riding outfit, with a purple-gold fish-shaped pouch hanging from her jade belt, exuding a commanding presence.

"Lord Xin, how have you been?" The princess dismounted, her voice as clear as a spring.

Xin's father quickly led Xin Jiuwei to bow.

Before she could even rise, a gentle male voice came from the second sedan chair: "Auntie is still as impatient as ever."

The sedan curtain was lifted, and the Second Prince, Xiao Jingming, stepped out slowly.

He was dressed in an indigo brocade robe, holding a string of ebony prayer beads, and his eyes were full of compassion.

Xin Jiuwei noticed that the jade pendant on his waist was not engraved with the usual auspicious pattern, but with a coiled python.

"This must be the second young lady of the Xin family?" The second prince's gaze fell on Xin Jiuwei, his smile not reaching his eyes. "I've heard you have a strong affinity with Master Jueming?"

Xin Jiuwei's heart tightened, but she didn't show it on her face: "This humble woman is foolish and ignorant, I would be grateful for your guidance, Master."

"Is that so?" The second prince fiddled with his prayer beads. "I'm also quite interested in Buddhism. Perhaps we could invite Master Jueming to come out and meet me?"

Inside the meditation room, the air was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.

Jueming, dressed in a plain white monk's robe, was brewing tea for everyone.

His movements were fluid and graceful, showing no sign of illness. Only Xin Jiuwei noticed that his fingertips were trembling slightly—the poison had not been cleared, and he should not have used his internal energy.

"Master's tea ceremony is exquisite." The Second Prince took the teacup, then suddenly changed the subject, "But this technique... seems more like the style used in the palace?"

The air in the room suddenly seemed to freeze. The princess paused slightly in her hand, which was toying with the riding crop.

Jueming calmly poured tea: "The Buddha's teachings are boundless, and so is the way of tea. Your Highness finds this familiar; perhaps you have seen a similar account in some ancient text."

"Oh?" The Second Prince chuckled. "Has the Master ever heard of 'Xun' tea? It's said to be made only in six..."

"Second brother," the eldest princess suddenly interrupted, "Didn't you say you wanted to try the vegetarian food at Lingyin Temple?" She turned to Jueming, "Master, could you lead the way?"

Jueming calmly rose to his feet: "It would be my great honor."

Xin Jiuwei seized the opportunity to step forward: "This humble woman dares to ask the master for guidance on a passage of scripture."

The Second Prince narrowed his eyes, about to speak, when the Eldest Princess took Xin Jiuwei's arm: "Perfect timing, I also have some Buddhist teachings to ask you about, let's go together."

Turning the corner of the corridor, the princess suddenly lowered her voice: "Little girl, do you know how dangerous that was just now?"

Xin Jiuwei's heart skipped a beat: "Your Highness, please understand, this humble woman merely..."

"Stop pretending." The eldest princess chuckled. "That brat Xiao Xun even told you about tea with the character 'Xun' on it?"

Xin Jiuwei looked up abruptly, meeting the princess's insightful gaze. She suddenly realized that this seemingly carefree princess was actually very perceptive.

"This humble woman does not understand what Your Highness is saying."

"Very good." The eldest princess patted her hand with satisfaction. "Keep this expression on when you see the second prince." She suddenly leaned closer. "Remember, 3:45 PM, the pavilion on the back mountain."

After saying that, she laughed loudly and said, "Let Master Jueming answer your questions about the Diamond Sutra himself."

Jueming was already standing by the pillar, the sunlight gilding him with a golden edge, making him look like a god or Buddha.

At the vegetarian feast, the Second Prince pressed his advantage again: "I've heard that Miss Xin is proficient in mathematics? May I ask who her teacher is?"

Xin Jiuwei put down her chopsticks: "My father hired a few tutors, but they only have a superficial understanding of the subject."

"Is that so?" The Second Prince looked at Jueming meaningfully. "I thought it was due to the master's excellent teaching."

Jueming calmly picked up a slice of mushroom: "Buddhism emphasizes predestined affinity. Miss Xin has an affinity for mathematics, which is not due to my efforts."

"Speaking of fate..." The Second Prince suddenly took something out of his sleeve. "Master, do you recognize this?"

Xin Jiuwei's pupils constricted sharply—it was a piece of mutton-fat jade that was extremely similar to her mother's jade pendant, except that the back was engraved with "Xun" instead of "Ning".

Jueming remained unfazed: "Excellent jade. If Your Highness wishes it to be consecrated, this humble monk can offer prayers on your behalf."

The Second Prince's smile turned cold: "No need. I was merely curious; this jade does indeed match the scar on the master's wrist."

A deathly silence fell over the room. Xin Jiuwei noticed the scar on Jueming's wrist, faintly visible beneath his plain robe, and suddenly remembered the words "palace coup" he had spoken that day.

"The Second Prince is drunk." The Eldest Princess suddenly smashed her cup and stood up. "Guards, escort His Highness back to his room!"

At three-quarters past dusk, Xin Jiuwei arrived at the pavilion on the back mountain as promised. The Princess had been waiting for a long time, with Jueming standing beside her with a solemn expression.

"Time is running out," the eldest princess said, getting straight to the point. "The second prince is already suspicious; we must act first."

She took out a yellowed letter from her bosom: "This was left to me by Madam Ning years ago."

Xin Jiuwei took the letter with trembling hands. It read: "To Your Highness Yuesheng: If anything happens to me, please protect my children..."

"What...what does this mean?" Xin Jiuwei's voice trembled.

Before the two could answer, she gave the answer herself.

"My mother didn't die from giving birth to me; in fact, her death was related to the royal family, right?"

She glanced at the eldest princess once, then looked up at Jueming, as if he were the one she was subconsciously searching for answers to.

But fearing that Jueming would give an answer she couldn't accept, she quickly spoke first.

"Was it an accident or a conspiracy? Was it because of her own actions or because she was implicated by the Xin family? Father—does my father know?"

She paused, her voice trembling slightly.

“Back then, Yao Niang risked her life to send you here, and my mother saved you. That’s how my mother learned about the royal family’s secret—was it related to this? But in my mother’s eyes, no one in the entire Xin family knew about this except for her.”

This was a secret her mother kept until her death, and it was also a bargaining chip that she used to protect her children.

Xin Jiuwei inherited her mother's secrets and leverage through what her mother left behind, and naturally, she also inherited her mother's perspective.

But what if it's not true? What if everything isn't as my mother knew? What if my mother died from this secret, or some other unknown truth?

What if, if Heaven gave Xin Jiuwei a second chance at life, it wasn't to take revenge on a mere Qi Huaiyu?

Xin Jiuwei stared into Jueming's eyes, wondering if he held the answers she sought, and what role he played in this secret.

The moonlight, like water, illuminated the solemn faces of the three. A mountain wind suddenly rose, scattering fallen flowers across the ground.