Rumors were like ink spilled on silk.
Once it soaked in, no amount of washing could make it clean again.
By noon, Han Jian's name was everywhere.
Not spoken loudly—never loudly—but murmured behind sleeves, exchanged in glances, hinted at in half-bowed conversations.
The Crown Prince's favorite shadow.
The boy who appeared only at night.
The reason inspections found nothing.
Li Shuran sat in the garden pavilion, her expression gentle, almost worried.
"I fear," she said softly to the gathered noble ladies, "that His Highness is being… misled."
The words were careful.
Perfect.
By the time Zhen Luo heard, it was already too late.
Feng Huai slammed the report onto the table. "They're demanding Han Jian be questioned."
Zhen Luo didn't respond immediately.
His gaze was distant, jaw tight.
"They want me to deny him," he said finally.
"Yes. Publicly."
Silence stretched.
Then—
"No."
Feng Huai stiffened. "Your Highness—"
"If I deny him now," Zhen Luo continued coldly, "they'll know he matters."
He stood. "Prepare the court."
The same afternoon, Han Jian was summoned.
He walked through the palace halls unescorted, hands folded behind his back, eyes calm.
Too calm.
Bai Zehan watched from a pillar, unease crawling up his spine.
"He looks… happy," he muttered.
Luo Xian replied quietly, "That's worse."
In the court, the Queen sat high above, gaze sharp.
"Han Jian," she said. "Do you deny influencing the Crown Prince?"
Han Jian lifted his eyes.
"I influence no one," he answered evenly. "I obey."
Murmurs rippled.
Li Shuran stepped forward, voice trembling just enough.
"Then why does Your Highness protect you so fiercely?"
All eyes turned to Zhen Luo.
This was the moment they wanted.
Zhen Luo spoke slowly. "Because he saved my life."
The court froze.
"He is my shield," Zhen Luo continued. "My witness. And my responsibility."
A pause.
"Question him if you wish," he finished. "But you question me as well."
The Queen's fingers tightened on her armrest.
This was not how it was meant to go.
That night, Bai Zehan dragged Han Jian into a shadowed corridor.
"You're enjoying this," Bai Zehan accused.
Han Jian smiled faintly. "They finally see me."
"That's dangerous."
"Yes," Han Jian agreed. "But useful."
Luo Xian joined them, voice low. "Li Shuran is pushing for your removal. Exile, if she can manage it."
Han Jian turned toward the moonlight.
"Good," he said softly. "Then she's rushed."
He glanced at Bai Zehan. "You still want protection for your family?"
Bai Zehan swallowed. "Yes."
"And you," Han Jian looked at Luo Xian, "still want the truth buried?"
Luo Xian met his gaze. "Yes."
Han Jian nodded. "Then you'll both help me."
"With what?" Bai Zehan asked.
Han Jian's smile sharpened.
"Turning the rumor," he said, "into a confession."
Elsewhere, Li Shuran stood before the Queen.
"He's cornered," she said confidently. "One more push."
The Queen studied the chessboard between them.
"Be careful," she warned. "A cornered thing bites."
Li Shuran smiled.
"I'm not afraid."
Far away, Zhen Luo stood alone, fingers brushing the same cracked mirror.
"Are you satisfied?" he asked quietly.
Behind him, Han Jian's reflection smiled.
"We're just getting started."