I need to be honest about Cui Zhen because my feelings are complicated. On the surface, he's everything a romance novel heroine would want—handsome, scholarly, tender, he presses flowers in his poetry, he blushes when he gives her the collection. The crabapple blossom detail? Chef's kiss. He remembers that she once said she only loves crabapple blossoms, not peonies, and he weaves it into his poems. That's the kind of detail that makes you soft. But here's what unsettles me: he showed up at exactly the wrong moment. Ming Shu just escaped a dangerous encounter with a suspicious man, her wrist is bruised, she's clearly shaken, and suddenly this pretty scholar appears asking if she's ill. He fidgets, he's embarrassed, he wants her to read his poems at home—propriety and all. It's sweet, yes, but it's also convenient. And Yan Wei notices him. I caught that. Yan Wei watches from the shadows, sees Ming Shu smiling at Cui Zhen, taps his fingers twice, and says 'investigate that scholar.' Two taps. That's not jealousy, that's calculation. Cui Zhen might be genuinely fond of her, but in this world, genuine feelings are a liability. I keep wondering if he's being manipulated or if he's manipulating someone.
