Qian Zhuye excitedly followed along.

Sang Zhi stood his ground, his hands clasped behind his back. "I’m not going."

Ye Qianning looked back at him.

"I failed this month’s exam. I have to go back and study."

Hearing this, Ye Qianning turned and walked back to him. "Your grades are already great. What’s there to study? Kids should be doing fun things."

Sang Zhi shook his head.

Qian Zhuye looked at him in disbelief. "You really failed?"

Sang Zhi didn’t say anything, his young face turning stern.

"No way. It’s normal for me to fail, but it’s not normal for you. I remember you’ve been first in every monthly exam since we started school. How could you suddenly fail?"

Sang Zhi’s little face was tense, his lips sealed as if glued shut.

’I’ve never seen such a sullen child,’ Ye Qianning thought, feeling conflicted. ’He won’t even say anything when he’s been wronged.’

Qian Zhuye, who seemed used to it, chattered on. "I heard that Princes get punished if they fail the monthly exam. Are you okay?"

Ye Qianning’s expression froze.

Sang Zhi pressed his lips together. "I have to go back and study."

Ye Qianning didn’t say a word. Instead, she quickly reached out and grabbed Sang Zhi as he was about to turn away. She lifted his sleeve, revealing several bright red welts that looked like they had been made by a ruler.

Sang Zhi tried to pull his arm back, but she held on tighter. Then, she grabbed his other arm and found the same marks.

Qian Zhuye gasped. That was way too harsh.

"Did the Emperor do this?" Ye Qianning’s young face turned cold.

"I’m fine," Sang Zhi said.

"What do you mean, you’re fine? If this isn’t treated properly, you could get a fever." Her heart ached looking at him. Sang Zhi was thin and his skin was pale, making the scarlet marks from the ruler stand out starkly on his slender arms.

The technique was practiced and cruel—heavy blows that didn’t break the skin. It looked as if the blood was flowing just beneath a thin, translucent layer.

"My governess already applied medicine." Sang Zhi finally managed to pull his arm free after a few tries, his wide sleeve falling to cover his wrist.

"You’re coming with me." Not daring to grab his arm again, Ye Qianning tugged on the corner of his sleeve and led him toward her courtyard.

’I caught the faint scent of medicine when I lifted his sleeve,’ she thought, ’but it’s a poor-quality ointment. It’ll be of little use.’

’Last time, Sang Zhi gave me a bottle of high-quality wound salve. Now that I think about it...’

’His own situation is so bad, and he gets hurt so easily, yet he gave his only bottle of medicine to me. What a little fool.’

Ye Qianning dragged him into her courtyard and had him sit down. Then, she turned and made a show of rummaging through a drawer.

Sang Zhi’s eyes were fixed on her small figure. Seeing how anxious she looked, his heart quivered.

Qian Zhuye followed them inside. He glanced at Ye Qianning, then sat down casually. "It’s just one failed exam. Did they have to be so brutal?"

Sang Zhi acted as if he hadn’t heard.

Qian Zhuye didn’t seem to mind and turned to look around the room.

"They have rooms this nice in the academy?" he asked, surprised.

Ye Qianning came over with a pill and a jar of ointment. "Are your rooms not nice?"

"They’re passable, but a world of difference from yours."

"Well, I am the dean’s direct disciple," Ye Qianning said, putting down the ointment. She took out a pill and held it to Sang Zhi’s lips.

Without hesitation, Sang Zhi opened his mouth, took the pill, and swallowed.

"It must be nice to be the dean’s direct disciple," Qian Zhuye said, his eyes full of envy.

Ye Qianning climbed onto the chair, rolled up Sang Zhi’s sleeve, and began to gently spread the ointment over the marks.

"HSS..."

Sang Zhi winced.

Ye Qianning’s hand paused. Seeing his little face scrunched in pain as he tried his best to endure it, her touch became even lighter.