Chapter 29

Chapter 29: The Heir Lord Caught Studying Spring Palace Secret Plays

Meanwhile, in the Heir Apparent’s study, Lin De Fang was bent over his desk like a thief.

Spread before him was the book his second younger brother Lin De Shang had “contributed”: spring palace secret play illustrations.

He read with a fascinated click of his tongue, his old face faintly flushed, eyes bright with scandalized admiration.

“Tsk, tsk. This brushwork… incredible. Truly incredible.”

He jabbed a finger at one page—an exquisite scene of a beauty bathing, drawn with such fine detail it bordered on indecent artistry. Even the pair of delicate feet tucked up against the beauty’s chest were painted rosy and soft, lifelike down to the pale blush on the nails.

“This… this is far more interesting than military diagrams…”

The longer he stared, the less willing he felt to let it go. His mind began to scheme in whispers.

A rare copy like this… maybe he could keep a few of the best pages for himself. Qing Xuan might not even understand it anyway. Or perhaps—before handing it over—he could make a copy for private appreciation.

He was deep in the moral maze of how to “reasonably” possess a treasure when a report came from outside.

The page boy’s voice carried in, urgent with formality. “Heir Lord, Madam Wang has arrived!”

Lin De Fang nearly leapt out of his skin.

He fumbled to close the book and hide it, but the more frantic he became, the more his hands betrayed him. The fine silk-bound volume slipped and shifted as if it had a will of its own.

Before he could get it out of sight, the door opened.

“De Fang, you—”

Madam Wang stepped in mid-sentence and stopped dead.

Her husband sprang up like a cat with its tail stepped on, clutching a book he was very clearly trying to conceal. She didn’t catch the title, but she didn’t need to.

The artwork was more than eloquent.

Lin De Fang tried to shove it behind his back, but it was too late.

Madam Wang’s gaze swept over him like a lantern beam, pinning the book in his hands—and the even more explicit pages still spread across the desk.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Confusion hardened into shock. Shock sharpened into disbelief. Disbelief collapsed into a cold, iron-blue contempt that sat heavy on her face.

She raised a trembling finger and pointed at him. “You… you shameless old man!”

“In broad daylight! In the study! Watching—watching this filthy nonsense?”

“Lin De Fang! Do you have any shame at all?”

Lin De Fang’s face turned the color of boiled shrimp. He snapped the book shut in a panic and stammered, words tripping over each other.

“W-wife… Madam, listen to me. It’s not mine. It’s—this is… this is for Qing Xuan. Teaching material! Yes! Teaching material!”

“Teaching material?”

Madam Wang looked like she might choke on the words. Her voice shot up.

“You use this kind of thing as teaching material for your son? Lin De Fang, have you gone senile? Dirty! Lewd! Unbelievable!”

She looked away as if the very sight of the book offended her eyes.

With a sharp, furious sweep of her sleeve, she delivered judgment.

“Tonight you sleep in the study. Reflect properly. Without my permission, don’t take one step into my rooms.”

Then she turned and left in a storm, the door slamming behind her with a bang that shook the air.

Lin De Fang stood alone in the study, clutching the troublemaking copy of spring palace secret play illustrations, surrounded by the clean scent of ink and the thick, choking taste of humiliation.

He looked down at the book—so valuable, so rare—and then at the tightly shut door.

And for the first time in a long while, the Heir Apparent truly felt like crying without tears.