The bright moon hangs high, beckoning him down from his pedestal.

The writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones delivered from the storeroom were placed on the desk in Qingyi Palace. Shen Qingruo only looked at them quietly for a moment before looking away.

She didn't use those things, and still spent most of her days lying on the couch or staring blankly by the window.

When Shen Wangxi came again, he saw that she was still as frail and weak as ever, and his brows furrowed slightly.

"The things that were sent aren't suitable?" he asked, his voice slightly gentler than usual.

Shen Qingruo shook her head slightly, lowered her eyes, and said softly, "Father's rewards are all excellent."

"It's just that Aruo hasn't touched a pen and ink in a long time, and she's afraid that she won't write well and will disappoint her father."

Looking at her, Shen Wangxi recalled how Shen Jingyan had been wielding her brush and ink with great enthusiasm in front of him.

Both were his daughters, but one was raised by him like a precious jewel, while the other was afraid to even touch a pen or ink for fear of disappointing him.

He never taught her properly, so even if she couldn't write well, it was his fault.

He walked to the desk and casually picked up a copy of the Thousand Character Classic.

"Come here," he said gently.

Shen Qingruo hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved over and stood a step away from him, her head down.

Shen Wangxi pushed the book in front of her.

"read."

Shen Qingruo looked at the densely packed words on the page. Her mother had taught her all of them, and she recognized them all, but she seemed somewhat at a loss: "Heaven and earth were dark and yellow, the universe was vast and boundless, the sun and moon waxed and waned, the stars and constellations were arrayed..."

She reads slowly, and occasionally gets stuck and stumbles over unfamiliar words.

Shen Wangxi stood beside her, able to smell her sweet fragrance and see her delicate and charming profile.

He suddenly remembered that she had been taught to read by the deceased Yun Wan, and he had never inquired about it.

"Father?" Shen Qingruo finished reading a short passage and saw that he remained silent for a long time. She raised her head somewhat uneasily, her beautiful eyes filled with questioning and nervousness.

Shen Wangxi looked away and responded with an unreadable tone, "Okay, keep reading."

Shen Qingruo lowered her head again and obediently continued reading, her voice soft and slightly hoarse from illness, touching the man's heart.

Shen Wangxi remained silent. He had always known what she longed for—not these cold inkstones and brushes, but even the slightest bit of his attention.

He couldn't give her the same unconditional love he showed to Ayan; that would be a betrayal of Wulanyun.

But he no longer seemed able to completely ignore her as he used to.

She gently and subtly tied an invisible thread to his heart with her understanding and obedience.

It's not tight, but it can't be ignored either.

Shen Qingruo finished reading the entire page, stopped, and quietly looked up at him. "Father, Aruo has finished reading."

Shen Wangxi snapped out of her daze and her gaze returned to her small face.

He paused, then said, "If you're worried about not writing well, then practice more often. I'll come and teach you when I have time."

Shen Qingruo's eyes lit up, rippling gently. She nodded lightly, her eyebrows curving into a smile, "Aruo understands, thank you, Father."

Her smile was subtle, yet it brought her to life.

Shen Wangxi looked at her, his heart stirred slightly, but he said nothing more and turned to leave Qingyi Palace.

Shen Qingruo watched his figure disappear outside the hall for a very long time.

-

After several snowfalls, the chill within the palace walls gradually dissipated, and the old trees in the courtyard sprouted some tender green buds.

Spring has arrived, and Shen Qingruo's health has gradually improved.

Shen Wangxi seemed to have developed a habit of coming to Qingyi Palace every one or two days to take a look.

He didn't stay long; sometimes he would just stand at the palace gate to see if she was alright.

Sometimes they would come in and ask her a few questions about her daily life, or test her on a few words.

Shen Qingruo always responded obediently, no longer deliberately avoiding his gaze as she had at the beginning. Occasionally, she would raise her eyes to look at him, full of admiration and worship.

That evening, when Shen Wangxi entered Qingyi Palace, he saw her sitting on a stone bench under the old tree in the courtyard, holding a book in her hand, but gazing at the setting sun in a daze.

Hearing footsteps, she snapped out of her reverie, saw it was him, and quickly put down her book to get up.

"Sit down." Shen Wangxi raised her hand to stop her and walked to sit on another stone bench opposite her.

The stone bench was cold. He frowned and glanced at her thin, frail body.

"What book are you reading?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over the scrolls on the stone table—the Book of Songs.

Shen Qingruo lowered her head slightly: "Just flipping through it casually, there are still some characters I don't recognize."

Shen Wangxi picked up the book, casually flipped to a page, which happened to be the chapter on reeds. He pointed to the character "洄" in "溯洄从之" with his fingertip.

Do you recognize this character?

Shen Qingruo leaned closer, looked at him, and gently shook her head. Her hair brushed against the back of his hand, causing a slight itch.

"Nianhui," Shen Wangxi said calmly, "meaning to go against the current."

"Going upstream, the road is long and arduous." Shen Qingruo recited it softly, then looked up at him, "Father, what does this mean?"

Her eyes were bright, clearly reflecting his image.

Shen Wangxi paused for a moment, then explained, "Going against the current to find someone is a long and arduous journey."

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingruo lowered her head again, her voice even softer: "It is very difficult."

Her words sounded like a line of poetry, yet also like a pointed remark.

Shen Wangxi looked at her and suddenly remembered what she had said when she was sick: "Does no one want Aruo anymore?"

He closed the book and put it back on the stone table.

"It's getting late, go back inside. The stone bench is cold, your body can't take it." He stood up, his tone still not very warm, but it was full of concern.

Shen Qingruo obediently stood up, and perhaps because she had been sitting for a long time, she swayed slightly.

Almost instinctively, Shen Wangxi reached out and supported her arm.

Through her spring dress, he could feel the slender softness of her arms.

Shen Qingruo seemed to be stunned as well. She looked up at him, then steadied herself, gently pulled her hand away from his, took a half step back, and her ears turned a faint pink.

"Thank you, Father." Her voice was shy.

Shen Wangxi withdrew her hand, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing together. "Go in. Remember to call me Father Emperor from now on. You are not only the princess of the Desert King, but also the princess of His Majesty the Great Zhou."

Shen Qingruo responded, bowed her head in greeting, and hurriedly walked back into the hall with the Book of Poetry in her arms.

Shen Wangxi stood there, watching her figure disappear behind the door, then looked down at her own hands.

He was just trying to catch her so she wouldn't fall, why is she shy?

Shen Wangxi couldn't figure out her youngest daughter's thoughts, and assumed that she was acting this way because she hadn't cared for her enough in the past.