After sending off Mo Xi, Jing Wen returned to his bed chambers, listened to Mingzhu read out some classic and went to bed without washing his feet. Mingzhu found it rather strange, since Jing Wen was a person that placed a heavy emphasis on cleanliness. However, considering how eventful the day was for Jing Wen, Mingzhu silently left after placing the classic by the bookshelf.

The next morning, Jing Wen woke earlier than usual, went to a small building by the side of the manor. The room had a dozen small bronze bathtub, and since it was before dawn, the water had yet to be heated.

Entering the room, Jing Wen gently rubbed his finger against each other, and after a short moment, a small flame appeared on his index finger, which then landed on the bathtub.

Before long, the water within the bathtub began emitting steam, which floated along with the grains on the wooden wall. Slowly, they gathered into tiny beads of water on the roofing, reflecting the marble flooring. Jing Wen entered the hot water and laid against the walls of the barrel, casually tapping his fingers against the copper, small ripples to form on the surface of the water, as though someone was throwing pebbles into the water.

When Jing Wen had been younger, he would frequently skip rocks across the artificial lake in Jing manor. He particularly liked the scene of carps gathering around the sunken stone, curious as to its properties.

The piece of cloth covering his eyes acted akin to a hot towel, causing Jing Wen to relax his body in the morning peace.

Suddenly, the door to the bathhouse was opened, before it was rapidly slammed shut at the same moment. The impact was particularly violent, causing the condensed beads to fall from the ceiling rapidly. Hitting against the water within the bathtub and puddles that had gathered elsewhere, they left behind ripples that was particularly violent.

Jing Wen quickly left the bathtub, wrapped himself with a robe and checked outside. Standing next to the door was Zhou Aimin, carrying a basket full of toiletries in his hand.

In the Great Zhu, public bathhouses were very common, with there being 900 such establishments in Lin’an alone. This was not to mention that when Jing Wen was leading a regiment of Imperial Guard in the countryside, it was common for the entire regiment to bath at the same time. Although Jing Wen was a modest person, he had always been accustomed to male nudity.

“Fellow Zhou, there is no need to wait outside.”

Zhou Aimin was silent, akin to a frozen swan. His hands holding the basket was moving in opposite directions, twisting the handle.

Jing Wen said sincerely, “I can’t see you regardless; there’s no need to be bashful.”

Suddenly, Zhou Aimin’s expression turned serious and his eyes were filled with calm. He looked at the Jing Wen, yet his gaze seemed to be looking through him as he said, “I will wait until you are finished. I must bother you to heat another tub of water once I leave.”

Jing Wen found what Zhou Aimin said to be reasonable, closing the door, Jing Wen stayed in the bathtub some time longer. After heating up another tub, Jing Wen dried himself and changed into another plain white robe.

Leaving the bathhouse, Jing Wen noticed that Zhou Aimin had disappeared. Feeling that it was probably since he had spent too long bathing, Jing Wen felt slightly embarrassed. After entering the dining room, Jing Wen found Zhou Aimin absent-mindedly eating and informed him that the bath was unoccupied once more. Afterwards, Jing Wen sat down and began eating a bowl of porridge and pickled vegetables.

Only after the bowl in his hand was empty did Jing Wen realise a certain matter. He had bathed this morning because he did not do so Yesterday, yet what reason did Zhou Aimin had to clean himself so early in the morning?

---

The reason why Jing Wen had bathed today was not only due to his emphasis on cleanliness, but also was in preparation for visiting the Thirteenth Prince’s household.

There was only a week left before Hua Quanfu arrived in Lin’an, and the preparation for his arrival was present in the entire city. While on the surface, Lin’an remained unchanged, akin to the ocean, the tranquillity only hides the turbulence below its surface.

Hence, Jing Wen wished to hastily end the matter regarding the Imperial edict, tying up loose ends. This sentiment, however, was not shared by the Thirteenth Prince’s household, who was still hosting banquets at their manor

The Thirteenth Prince was extraordinary popular with the younger generations of the Great Zhu; aside from Consort Li, all his supporters were impoverished scholars and aspiring martial artists. This popularity was due to the competitions and banquets that were hosted weekly. A single glance from the Thirteenth Prince at their poetry, or a word of praise for a feat of martial arts was sufficient for many of these youths to be launched into a meteoric rise in their careers.

Hence, the guests gathering before the Thirteenth Prince’s manor, not far away from the Imperial Palace, were too many to count. Some sat atop palanquins, others hidden within carriages, but most walked. Regardless, the gatekeepers treated each guest with equal treatment; after writing their name on a list, they would step aside to let them enter.

After Zhou Aimin bathed, he insisted on accompanying Jing Wen to see Xiahou Jie, and since there were now two people, it was more reasonable to use a carriage. Zhou Aimin sat opposite of Jing Wen on the carriage, concentrating intensely on a Taoist book in his hand. After attending court numerous times over the past weeks, Zhou Aimin had adapted to long queues, carrying novels popular among the commoners along with him for such occassions.

Zhou Aimin’s eyebrows furrowed as he heard the sound of endless discussion across the walls of the manor. The palace walls were far quieter than the rowdiness of the Thirteenth Prince’s manors. Closing the novel in his hand, he said, “Fellow Jing, I wonder if Lady Xiahou would be accustomed to the boisterous nature of these gatherings. From my knowledge, Xiahou Jie was born in Lingnan and was sent to Lin’an recently by her father, due to the increased activities of the Southern Wu rebels.”

Jing Wen answered, “The Xiahou family live beside their soldiers. If Lady Xiahou cannot tolerate these sort of commotion, she would not be surnamed Xiahou.”

The Xiahou family had a remarkably long history; originally a noble family within the previous State of Zhao, and stationated at the border between the Central Plains and the Northern Seas by the former King Huiwen’s (惠文) orders. After switching alligiances, the general Xiaohou was second only to Zhou Aimin’s father. After the Great Zhu conquered the Southern Wu, the Xiahou family migrate to Lingnan to guard the border between Lingnan and Nanwang. Because of this, the Emperor took the sister of general Xiahou as one of his concubines, who later gave birth to the Thirteenth Prince.

The Thirteenth Prince himself was the long child of the Emperor and was remarkably young.

Inside the manor, a group of servants accompanied a young boy wearing a set of tunic and pants adopted from the Northern Sea tribes. The scholars and martial artists discussing loudly suddenly realised the Thirteenth Prince himself welcomed them into the manor, and they had embarrassed themselves with their actions. Yet their stubbornness forbids them to show such emotions upon their face; continuing with a boastful smile, they acted amicable as they confidently bowed towards the Thirteenth Prince, before following the servants into the rear garden.

As the white carriage passed, the Thirteenth Prince, named Zhang Weiyuan (張威遠), returned a salute in a rather impatient manner towards the guests. Moving to welcome the carriage, the Thirteenth Prince moved aside the curtain to the carriage eagerly. With a youthful voice, he said, “Jing gege, you finally visited me!”

Jing Wen bowed towards the Thirteenth Prince within the carriage, saying, “Your Highness, have you been well?”

The Thirteenth Prince smiled in response, causing adorable dimples to appear. After Consort Li had begun to support him, Jing Wen’s visits to his manor had become extremely infrequent. Though the Thirteenth Prince was aware that Jing Wen would inevitably visit his manor due to his arrangements with Xiahou Jie, seeing the person still made the boy rather bashful.

Jing Wen gestured towards Zhou Aimin’ and said, “I also brought a guest. I hope it does not offend Your Highness.”

Zhou Aimin has already placed down his books. Cupping his hands towards the Thirteenth Prince, he carefully inspected the Thirteenth Prince before he said, “For Your Highness to welcome me personally is an honour.”

“Not at all, not at all.” The Thirteenth Prince looked at the unfamiliar young man and immediately grew fond of him. His indigo eyes sparkling, the Thirteenth Prince said, “May I ask if you come from Yanjing?”

Zhou Aimin did not know why the Thirteenth Prince asked him this, but after a brief moment of pause, a smile crept upon his face as he said, “I am the child of General Zhou.”

The Thirteenth Prince smile; he was prepared to stand there all day to chat. However, he was stoon reminded by a servant of the proper conduct. Waving his hands, he ushered Jing Wen and Zhou Aimin into the rear garden.

Jing Wen was once famous for his martial prowess, but that does not mean he was lacking in literary talents. Although he mirrored the style of the classics, it was still excellent poetry. Compared to the other youths in the garden, Jing Wen was someone with a little more artistic talent. Still, Jing Wen’s ability was excepted, since he was the former prime minister’s son, who was famous for his commentaries.

Zhou Aimin was still curious as to how Jing Wen would behave in such a gathering, as well as lady Xiaohou Jie’s arrival. After seeing the Thirteenth Prince’s enthusiasm toward Jing Wen, he now suspects the true force behind her inclusion on the list of marriage candidates were likely not related to Consort Li, but instead the Thirteenth Prince.

As Zhou Aimin continued to observe the scholars and martial artists gathering around, he realised that no one seemed to pay any attention to Jing Wen. Aside from a few martial artists seeking to exchange skills with Jing Wen, no one approached him.

This was very natural. To most individuals within the capital, Jing Wen was the son of the Prime Minister person who once occupied the first spot of the Xinqingnian.

Now that both things were lost, it appeared everyone now thinks of Jing Wen, perhaps not as an ordinary person, but still a mediocre person.