The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

Si Chen's eyes remained completely calm.

He sat gazing at the stars for four hundred years, having heard too many delusional words and witnessed too many worldly obsessions.

To him, her declaration was nothing more than another futile attempt, like a moth drawn to a flame.

"Are you done talking?" His voice was as indifferent as ever. "Then go wash up."

At the beginning of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), I will begin expounding the *Qingjing Jing* (Classic of Purity and Tranquility) to you.

Chu Qingyue did not move.

She stared at him for a long time, so long that the first ray of dawn finally pierced through the clouds, shining through the glass skylight and leaving a golden-red streak on her face.

The light shone directly across the cinnabar scar on her forehead, like a newly added tear of blood.

"Alright." She suddenly stood up, the chains rattling. "Wash up. Then preach."

She walked to the copper basin of water that had been prepared in the corner, scooped up a handful, and splashed it on her face.

Water droplets rolled down her pale cheeks and disappeared into her collar.

She didn't change into the brand-new moon-white Taoist robe, but continued to wear her own wrinkled red clothes.

Then she walked back, sat cross-legged on the futon opposite him, tilted her head back, and even curved the corners of her lips into a smile:

"Let's begin, Your Excellency. I am already... eager to hear just how miraculous the 'Qingjing Jing' (Classic of Purity and Tranquility), which can extinguish all thoughts of the world, truly is."

---

At the beginning of the hour of Chen (7-9 AM), Si Chen's voice rang out inside the observatory.

Clear and melodious like a jade chime, ethereal and far-reaching, each word seems to carry a certain rhythm, capable of directly striking the soul of the listener.

"The Great Dao is formless, yet it gives birth to heaven and earth; the Great Dao is without emotion, yet it governs the sun and moon; the Great Dao is nameless, yet it nurtures all things..."

Chu Qingyue closed her eyes and listened quietly.

She listened very attentively, even tilting her head slightly, as if savoring the profound meaning of each word.

Si Chen finished reciting a section, paused, and looked at her: "Have you gained any insight?"

Chu Qingyue opened her eyes, her gaze clear: "Yes."

"Speaking of which..."

"I've realized..." She tilted her head, her smile as innocent as a child's, but the words she uttered were like honey laced with poison.

"The Imperial Preceptor's chanting voice is so pleasant to hear."

"If one day in the future your faith is broken and you have nowhere to go, you can come to the Princess's residence and I will recite scriptures to help you sleep."

"I will pay you silver, five hundred taels a month, how about that?"

Si Chen looked at her silently.

After a long pause, he reopened the scroll, his voice still calm and even: "Continue."

This time, Chu Qingyue did not close her eyes.

She stared at his thin lips as they parted, at his Adam's apple as he chanted the sutra, at his slender fingers holding the scroll—those hands that had caressed her face and wiped away her tears last night, and had also drawn talismans in the air, locking her in this small space.

She was so focused on watching that she didn't even notice when Si Chen stopped for the second time.

"Chu Qingyue," he called her name.

"Hmm?" She snapped back to reality, a dark, almost obsessive look still lingering in her eyes.

"What are you looking at?" he asked her.

"It's all about the Imperial Advisor," she replied matter-of-factly.

The scripture says: "Those who cling to things do not understand morality."

"It doesn't say we can't be attached to the beauty before our eyes. The Grand Preceptor's looks are so striking that one could look at him for a hundred years and never tire of him."

Si Chen closed the scripture scroll.

"That concludes today's morning lessons." He rose, his wide sleeves brushing across the stone table.

"Since you have no intention of listening to the sutra, then sit here quietly and reflect on your mistakes. You are not allowed to get up before noon."

"Why should I?" Chu Qingyue raised an eyebrow. "I listened, I understood, and I even praised the Imperial Preceptor. What wrong have I done?"

He had already turned and walked towards the desk, leaving her only with his aloof and detached back.

"To be stubborn and disrespectful, to laugh at the scriptures, is disrespectful. To sit quietly and reflect on one's mistakes is already a light punishment."

Chu Qingyue stared at his retreating figure, then suddenly chuckled softly, "Alright."

She sat down properly, her back ramrod straight, her red dress spreading out in the morning light like a blooming red spider lily.

"The Imperial Preceptor has offered me a seat; how could I dare refuse?"

-------

"Alright, let's have breakfast."

After an unknown amount of time, Si Chen's voice rang out again.

Breakfast was served on a low sandalwood table on the east side of the observatory.

A plate of congee, two kinds of vegetarian snacks, and three dishes of pickled vegetables.

It's simple to the point of being harsh, but that suits his style—unfeeling, desireless, and untouched by worldly affairs.

Chu Qingyue's gaze swept over the bland dishes, then slowly rose and landed on Si Chen's face.

A smile played on her lips, but her eyes were as cold as an abyss.

"I...am not hungry," she said softly.

"But since it is the Imperial Preceptor who has practiced fasting for many years and has personally prepared breakfast, it would be ungrateful of me not to accept it."

She paused, leaned forward, and the chains rattled softly.

"Then...how about this—" She stared into his eyes, speaking each word clearly and slowly.

"I do not like to eat by myself."

"Si Chen, if you feed me, I'll eat."

The observatory fell into a sudden, deathly silence.

The draft in the hall froze.

Si Chen's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the bamboo chopsticks, then slowly loosened. He looked up and met her unrestrained and direct gaze, a gaze like a poisoned needle, piercing his eyes.

"Chu Qingyue," his voice was calm, yet it was as if a turbulent current was surging beneath the surface of ice, "Don't push your luck."

"Trying to push your luck?" She chuckled softly, a desolate and eerie laugh.

"The Grand Preceptor locked me here, sealed my inner strength, forbade me to speak, and forced me to listen to those heartless and desireless scriptures... This is not an 'inch,' it is a 'foot,' a 'ten-foot,' a 'bottomless abyss.'"

She stood up, dragged the iron chain to him, bent down, and braced her hands on the edge of the low table, trapping him between herself and the table.

The red sleeves of his dress drooped down, almost touching the corner of his moon-white robe.

"Now, all I'm asking is for the Imperial Advisor to feed me a meal." Her breath almost brushed against the silver hair on his forehead.

"Is this what you call 'pushing one's luck'? In that case, Your Excellency, please enjoy your meal. I will not keep you company."

Si Chen stared at her for a long time, his eyes deep and intense:

"Since the princess is not hungry, there will be no more breakfasts from now on."

With a wave of his hand, Shirakawa led the young Taoist priest to silently remove the untouched food.

Chu Qingyue maintained her bent-over posture, her smile sharp:

"Very well, it saves the Imperial Advisor from worrying. I've been detached from worldly affairs for too long, and I'm more suited to you, a banished immortal."

She stopped looking at him, turned and walked to the soft couch under the window of the observatory, sat down, and looked out at the gradually brightening sky.

Silence, like thick ink, permeated every inch of the air at the observatory.

Si Chen sat down behind his desk again and unfolded a star map.

The faint rustling of the parchment was the only sound between him and her.

Chen Shi (7-9 AM), Si Shi (9-11 AM), Wu Shi (11 AM-1 PM).

The shadow of the stardial slowly crawled across the stone surface, the markings pointing to noon.

Shirakawa reappeared silently and served lunch.

It was still a simple vegetarian meal, with two dishes and a soup, placed on a low table.

Si Chen remained unmoved.

Chu Qingyue remained unmoved.

She didn't even change her posture, like a red stone sculpture forgotten under the window, only the occasional blink of her eyelashes proving that she was still alive.

"Princess, it's time to eat," he said, his imposing presence subtly revealed.

Chu Qingyue acted as if she hadn't heard.

"Chu Qingyue." He called her by her full name, with an undeniable air of authority.

She finally turned her head very slowly, her profile appearing unusually hard in the dim light.

"Is the Imperial Advisor ordering me?" Her voice was soft, yet carried a texture like the friction of gravel.

"What a pity, my heart has been through hell, and what remains is only rebelliousness, and I can't stand... orders."