At fourteen, Chu Qinglan was taken out of the Cold Palace and sat awkwardly among the beginners at the Imperial College.
Fresh from the Cold Palace, Chu Qinglan looked less like a prince and more like everyone's laughingstock.
Then a slender, pale hand pushed open the window, scattering blossoms and morning light across his shoulders.
He followed the hand upward. The young man had a face as handsome as jade, gentle eyes and brows, and lavish robes shimmering with light.
He leaned down, his soft, hanging hair brushing against Chu Qinglan's neck.
His voice was clear and gentle as a spring breeze. "Is there anything you don't understand?"
Even now, Chu Qinglan remembered the sound of his own heartbeat. He understood none of it, and could barely hide his flustered embarrassment.
The young man bent over and began with the Three Character Classic. To make it easier to understand, he took up his brush and drew illustrations in Chu Qinglan's book.
Only later did Chu Qinglan learn that he was the son of Grand Tutor Meng.
He began his studies at four, wrote poetry at six, and became famous throughout the capital at nine with his Ode to Lingchuan. At fifteen, the emperor personally named him Third Place in the Palace Examination.
At sixteen, he became a fifth-rank Imperial College professor. Chu Qinglan had to address him as "Teacher."
Meng Shi never looked down on him for being slow. He could unravel even the most obscure texts and explain them in a way that held Chu Qinglan spellbound.
Chu Qinglan learned quickly, but every night he couldn't help opening that dog-eared copy of the Three Character Classic.
That man was bright as the moon above. Chu Qinglan couldn't bear to profane him, yet his feelings quietly took root and grew.
When Chu Qinglan was seventeen, he left the capital for his fief. Meng Shi saw him off outside the city, and they promised to keep writing to each other.
But after receiving his fief, Chu Qinglan never got a letter from Meng Shi. Instead, he heard that the Meng family had fallen.
They met again five years later. His beloved wore a scarlet python robe and was breathtakingly beautiful, like a flower forced to bloom until it withered.
As though he were about to fade away.
People said his name was Meng Lanxu, and that he was a rising star, a brush attendant in the Directorate of Ceremonial.
People said he was a flower the emperor kept by his pillow, and a blade he kept close at hand.
Chu Qinglan didn't believe what others said. He believed only what Meng Shi told him himself.
Meng Shi smiled with utter contempt and whispered in his ear, "By our relationship, you should call me Mother Consort."
Premise: Ambition is part of one's strength
