Gu Qingzhou listened quietly, his gaze resting on Ding Wenruo's damp, faintly trembling lashes, without interrupting.
Only when she had finished did he nod and say, "The man whose words carry the most weight at court now is Tong Huan, Grand Commandant Tong. But that old fox has always played every side, never leaving a crack exposed. If Academy Head Wei of the Knowledge and Practice Institute were willing to intervene, there might be a chance..."
He paused, a trace of gravity settling between his brows. "But these past few years, His Majesty's attitude toward the Knowledge and Practice Institute has changed. Outwardly, his generous favor remains undiminished, but in truth, he has grown increasingly distant. Even if Academy Head Wei agrees to speak, he will need to choose the right moment."
A chill swept through Ding Wenruo's heart. She had thought of all this, but had been unwilling to think too deeply. Now that someone had laid it out plainly, that thin layer of hope was punctured like paper, revealing the bottomless void beneath.
She lowered her head and bit her lip. Exhaustion and despair surged over her, her eyes burned, and tears spilled out beyond her control. She turned her face aside, trying to hide them, but they rolled down one after another, falling onto the soft fox fur and soaking into it without a sound.
Gu Qingzhou's heart gave a sharp pang. Ever since he first met her six years ago, she had always been dignified and composed, reserved and unhurried, like a painting that would never fade. The sight of her standing in this swirling snow, weeping silently, made the ache in his chest a hundred times worse.
He tightened his grip on the umbrella handle. He did not reach out to touch her, only tilted