In the Northern Song Dynasty, he started by marrying the eighth daughter of the Su family.

Bao Zheng was surprised by Han Zhi's certainty: "Why is Young Master Han so adamant that he isn't him?"

"Master Bao, please consider this question. If he really is the Crown Prince, what would his mother do? Or rather, how would she choose to raise him?" Han Zhi asked.

Bao Zheng thought for a moment and said, "If he really is the Crown Prince, then his mother will more or less follow the palace etiquette in raising him."

"In that case, Leng Qing must be a refined and cultured person, at the very least a proper one. After all, he is the Crown Prince; he must have a certain pride in him. How could he possibly go around proclaiming that he is the Crown Prince?"

Han Zhi explained, "If he were truly the crown prince, why would he need to promote himself? Wouldn't that just be adding unnecessary pressure from public opinion?"

"In other words, if he were the real crown prince, he would have already requested an audience with the emperor. After all, what need is there for publicity when it's a real matter? The more guilty a person is, the more they want to confuse the public and make others feel guilty as well."

Bao Zheng was somewhat surprised and said, "Based on this alone?"

“That’s right, based on that alone.” Han Zhi was very certain.

Bao Yi pondered for a moment and said to Bao Zheng, "My lord, I think what Han Langjun said makes sense."

"If I am the true crown prince, then there is no need for publicity. Once I am recognized as the ancestor, people will naturally promote me."

Bao Zheng nodded and said, "That makes sense."

This can be considered Han Zhi's personal speculation, since the current emperor—Emperor Renzong of Song—has no children, so it's possible that someone else is behind it.

Leng Qing's audacity in being so outspoken clearly stems from his ignorance of the inner palace. Since he is unaware, it must be because his mother is keeping quiet. Why not? Because he is indeed not the Crown Prince, and her words would be futile.

……

"The pavilion is quiet, a cold wind gently swirls around, I sit and watch the clouds drift leisurely across the vast sky. Suddenly, I see snow falling from the sky, the early winter feeling is deep and quiet. So light, so light, the grass by the pavilion is covered in silver."

A light snow began to fall from the sky, and Su Zhen, Bao Dongshi, and the other three took shelter in a small pavilion. Seeing the first snow, they were in high spirits, and Bao Fu ordered paper and brushes to be brought, intending to hold a poetry gathering for the ladies.

"Miss Su, you have such a fine literary talent! I thought you smelled of ink, but it turns out you have real learning!" Bao Fu said with a smile.

Bao Wan also jokingly said, "This is the fragrance of ink that can only be obtained by reading books every day. Unlike you, who are sharp-tongued every day."

As soon as Bao Wan finished speaking, Bao Fu started to complain, "Good sister, that's not right. I'm just being straightforward."

“You, you…” Bao Wan lightly tapped her sister’s forehead with her finger, “All you do is talk. If you could write as well as you talk, I’d be thanking my lucky stars.”

The two sisters started playfully bickering again, bursting into laughter, which made Su Zhen and Madam Dong cover their mouths and chuckle as well.

“However, speaking of which, the snow is quite fitting for the occasion. Why don’t we each compose another poem?” Su Zhen suggested.

"That's excellent," everyone agreed.

Madam Bao also spoke up: "If those officials come, it's a good opportunity to make things difficult for them."

“Of course.” Bao Wan smiled, walked around behind Su Zhen, put her hands on her shoulders, and said, “But we will need to trouble you, Madam Su, to think of some topics to amuse your elder brother and your husband.”

No sooner had Bao Wan finished speaking than Bao Fu teased her again:

"Look at how clever you are, you've probably already planned out how to prank them, haven't you?"

As he spoke, he reached out and touched Bao Wan's ticklish spot, wanting to tickle her. Bao Wan was usually most afraid of this, and immediately laughed and dodged and begged for mercy.

"Good Fu'er, good sister, stop fooling around. I'm just thinking about the questions." Bao Wan said with a smile as she dodged, her tone containing not only laughter but also a soft, pleading quality.

Su Zhen and Madam Bao watched from the sidelines, laughing but not saying a word, letting the two sisters fool around. After a while, Bao Fu finally let Bao Wan go. Both of them were panting heavily, but they looked at each other and smiled, as if their earlier playful fight was just a little sisterly affection.

"Alright, alright, you two young ladies, stop fooling around. Let's hurry up and think of some questions so that we don't waste this beautiful first snow."

Seeing her two daughters making such a fuss, Madam Bao had no choice but to urge them on.

But Su Zhen shook his head and said, "It's probably too late."

"What's the matter that's so late?" Madam Bao asked.

Su Zhen's gaze was fixed in a certain direction, which attracted Bao Dongshi's attention. When she looked over, she saw Bao Zheng, Han Zhi, and Bao Yi walking towards them.

"Then, Madam Su, you should think about it. Your literary talent is the best. As for the rest, we three will help you stall for time."

After Madam Bao finished speaking, the ladies quickly straightened their clothes and regained their dignified appearance, as if the playful banter had never happened.

Su Zhen bit her lip lightly, pondered for a moment, and a sly glint flashed in her eyes. Then, she deliberately raised her hand, brought it to her lips, and breathed on it, seemingly to warm her hands, but actually whispered:

"I've already decided. I'll use this snowy scene and human emotions as my theme, but I'll write it in a way that contradicts the current imagery. Just wait and see..."

The three officials walked over, their shoulders dusted with snowflakes. Han Zhi noticed Su Zhen's slightly reddened little hands, so he went over and placed her two little hands in his palms to warm them up.

Seeing the ladies sitting upright, the atmosphere became somewhat heavy. Bao Zheng frowned in confusion. Han Zhi, who was closest, caught the sly look in Su Zhen's eyes and immediately understood. The corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

"What a fine mood! Are you here to enjoy the snow and compose poetry?" Bao Zheng broke the silence with a gentle yet authoritative voice.

Madam Bao rose to greet him, her smile gentle: "Indeed, sir, you've come at the perfect time. We were just about to use this snow scene as a theme to showcase our talents."

Bao Zheng nodded in approval upon hearing this. Han Zhi then quietly leaned close to Su Zhen's ear and whispered, "Eighth Sister, have you figured out how to play a trick on me?"

Su Zhen chuckled and said in a voice only Han Zhi could hear, "Don't worry, my lord, this time I will definitely give you a big surprise."

She then withdrew her hand, led Han Zhi to the pavilion, and softly said, "My lord, we originally intended to write about the snow scene, but simply writing about the snow scene is rather uninteresting."

"Of course, I would like to involve you in this matter, but simply writing about snow scenes is uninteresting. So I'd like to do the opposite—use winter snow as the theme and summer scenery as the imagery, and then write two verses of 'Like a Dream.' Would you like to give it a try, sir?"

Han Zhi raised an eyebrow and looked at Bao Zheng and Bao Yi. Bao Yi seemed a little confused, not understanding the meaning, but Bao Zheng's smile didn't fade. It wasn't until Madam Bao said:

"My lord, please don't laugh. You and Yi'er also have to write."

Bao Zheng's smile faded somewhat.

Han Zhi held Su Zhen's hand and pulled her back to the table, smiling as he said, "Then I'll start with a poem, and Eighth Sister can see if it's good."

Everyone sat down and began to watch intently as Han Zhi picked up his brush and began to write:

Snow blankets the willow branches like a dream, as if a summer breeze gently blows. The small pavilion hides deep winter, yet recalls the lush greenery. Dreams linger, dreams linger, the melody awakens the gentle summer lotus.

Lotus shadows ripple gently on the water, as if summer's waves have yet to end. The sound of a flute echoes around the icy beams, startling pairs of dragonflies. My heart stirs, my heart stirs; winter's chill cannot conceal the lingering fragrance of summer.