Gu Yanshu stood mere inches from Qin Lu—how could he not sense the excitement radiating from him?
Chin lifted proudly, he fixed Qin Lu with a triumphant look:
"What does Your Highness think of the telescope?"
"It's extraordinary."
Qin Lu answered without hesitation, then added thoughtfully:
"Is it difficult to manufacture?"
Gu Yanshu knew exactly why he asked—concerned about scalability for military deployment.
"Your Highness must have noticed—today's three inventions share similarities with glass. In fact, the lenses are a specialized form of glass. Though the crafting process is more intricate, it's hardly insurmountable."
Relief flickered across Qin Lu's features—until another thought struck him.
"And the craftsmen who produce these lenses—"
"Rest assured, Zhige personally selected every one for their loyalty."
Gu Yanshu anticipated the unspoken worry, answering before Qin Lu could finish.
While items like magnifying glasses and spectacles were trivial, the telescope—explicitly gifted as a military asset—demanded absolute secrecy in its production.
Mid-question, Qin Lu already recognized his own redundancy.
If Gu Yanshu had entrusted silver mirrors only to rigorously vetted artisans, how much more stringent would his selection be for this?
The confirmation that Zhige had handpicked the craftsmen only solidified this certainty.
Fortunately, Gu Yanshu understood Qin Lu's caution stemmed from ingrained vigilance rather than distrust.
Dismissing the momentary awkwardness, he gestured to the telescope in Qin Lu's grip:
"Shall I demonstrate its full operation now?"
"Please."
Qin Lu readily returned the device.
A quick study by nature, he mastered the adjustments within minutes.
Once proficient, Qin Lu found himself reluctant to relinquish the deceptively simple instrument—
Until Zhige's timely reminder about the impending gate closure forced him to part with it.
"Now that Your Highness has mastered its use, why not revisit this another day? Find an optimal vantage point and test its true limits properly."
Gu Yanshu suppressed a chuckle at Qin Lu's uncharacteristic reluctance.
Yet this version of Qin Lu—visibly enthralled by discovery—felt infinitely more captivating than his usual impassive demeanor.
It echoed their post-wedding conversation: At twenty, Qin Lu deserved to embrace youthful exuberance like the Fifth Prince, not mimic the austerity of septuagenarians.
Today's childlike wonder suited him far better.
Reason reasserting itself, Qin Lu nodded at Gu Yanshu's suggestion and issued the order to return.
The journey back mirrored their departure—Qin Lu cradling Gu Yanshu against his chest, channeling inner warmth to stave off the winter chill.
Arriving at the gates at the eleventh hour would typically invite scrutiny—
But the guards, recognizing Qin Lu's approaching steed, deliberately delayed closure to accommodate his party.
Thus, the trio reentered the capital unimpeded.
The telescope's acquisition left Qin Lu in conspicuously high spirits.
Even within the estate's confines—where its utility was limited—he couldn't resist frequent handling.
The next day, coinciding with Qin Lu's official rest period exempting him from court and military duties, he seized the opportunity for proper field testing.
At dawn, after their customary martial drills, Qin Lu and Zhige rode to the highest peak beyond the city walls.
There, the telescope's capabilities became unequivocal:
Gu Yanshu's "thirty li" claim held undeniable truth.
Even Zhige—with marginally inferior eyesight—could discern details twenty li distant through the lens.
Since battlefield reconnaissance rarely demanded granular detail—only troop estimates—the device's effective range expanded another ten li on open terrain.
Had Gu Yanshu been present, Qin Lu might've swept him into an exhilarated embrace.
His reverence for the instrument deepened exponentially.
This transformation hadn't escaped the household's notice.
Servants whispered observations, even Xingren couldn't resist commenting to Zhige:
"Notice how His Highness has changed since the Princess Consort's arrival?"
"Mn."
Zhige's agreement held deeper certainty.
While Xingren's duties now centered on estate management under Gu Yanshu's direction, Zhige's constant proximity to Qin Lu made the shifts more pronounced.
"No wonder His Highness is different. Who could dislike someone like the Princess Consort?"
Xingren's admiration was hard-earned.
Initially complying with Gu Yanshu's orders out of deference to Qin Lu, prolonged exposure had eroded his skepticism.
Unlike Qin Lu's intimidating aura, Gu Yanshu wielded a magnetism that inspired instinctive allegiance.
Witnessing his strategic brilliance—how he'd crippled the First Prince's schemes without lifting a finger—cemented Xingren's devotion.
Now in Xingren's esteem, Gu Yanshu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Qin Lu—perhaps even a fraction taller.
"Exactly!"
Zhige didn't refute Xingren's words, nodding slightly in agreement.
That simple nod seemed to unleash Xingren's pent-up enthusiasm, and he immediately launched into a torrent of effusive praise for Gu Yanshu:
"You think so too, right? Look at the Princess Consort—his family background is impeccable, his looks are outstanding, he's brilliant, and utterly devoted to His Highness. Not to mention all those unconventional ideas in his head... No wonder His Highness is smitten."
Here, Xingren paused, as if struck by a sudden thought, then turned to Zhige:
"Double-entry bookkeeping, glass, soap, scented soap, silver mirrors—how does his brain even come up with these things?"
"No idea."
Zhige remained impassive. How would he know?
Fortunately, Xingren wasn't actually seeking an answer and continued his adulation:
"But what impresses me most is that telescope from a few days ago. Did you see how much His Highness adores it? He hasn't let it out of his sight! I bet it's the most cherished gift he's received this year."
Yet Zhige, who had been nodding along until now, shook his head slightly:
"Not necessarily."
"You also—" Xingren began automatically before registering the dissent. "Why 'not necessarily'?"
Zhige opened his mouth, then hesitated.
Remembering Gu Yanshu's strict instructions to keep the matter confidential, he simply shook his head again:
"Never mind."
Though Xingren sensed Zhige was withholding something, years of working together had taught him the futility of prying.
With a resigned sigh, he resumed his lyrical tribute to Gu Yanshu.
The sheer variety and creativity of his compliments underscored the depth of his admiration.
Meanwhile, Gu Yanshu was engaged in his own late-night discussion with Qin Lu:
"After court tomorrow, don't forget to send these past few days' creations to the imperial study and the inner palace."
"Understood."
Qin Lu acknowledged without hesitation.
Then, as if struck by an afterthought, Gu Yanshu added:
"Also, regarding the telescope—Your Highness should present yours to His Majesty first."
"Hm?"
This genuinely surprised Qin Lu. Rarely did Gu Yanshu ask him to regift items once received.
"The lens craftsmen were occupied yesterday and couldn't produce a new one. A replacement will arrive tomorrow."
This was a minor miscalculation on Gu Yanshu's part.
Though Prince Li's estate boasted numerous skilled artisans, their current workload was staggering.
Inadvertently reassigning the lens specialists had caused today's telescope shortage.
Since Qin Lu's current model was the prototype—somewhat crude in craftsmanship—
And the upcoming version, benefiting from prior experience, would undoubtedly be more refined,
Gu Yanshu proposed temporarily gifting the original to the emperor.
"But didn't the Princess Consort say this was my personal gift?"
Qin Lu wasn't opposed to parting with the telescope, knowing a superior replacement was imminent.
Yet spotting Gu Yanshu's faintly guilty expression, he couldn't resist teasing:
To his astonishment, the casual provocation yielded an unexpected revelation:
"The telescope isn't particularly special. Hardly worthy of being called a proper gift."
"Are you implying... you have something more extraordinary for me?"
Now Qin Lu's curiosity was genuinely piqued. If the telescope didn't qualify as special, what could?
"Naturally. Has Your Highness forgotten? I still owe you a token of affection."
"I thought we agreed that wasn't necessary?"
Qin Lu blinked, then grew intrigued. "What are you planning?"
From Gu Yanshu's earlier hesitation, Qin Lu deduced this wouldn't be any ordinary present.
Yet for once, the usually forthcoming Gu Yanshu remained coy:
"You'll find out after court tomorrow."
"Must it wait until then?"
Qin Lu's brow arched—he rarely pressed for answers.
"Absolutely!"
Gu Yanshu's firm nod brooked no argument.
The item wasn't even prepared yet!
He needed Qin Lu occupied at court to finalize the surprise.
But witnessing Qin Lu's unusual persistence—and unable to bear withholding the truth completely—Gu Yanshu relented slightly:
"Rest assured, Your Highness—it's something you've never seen before and will adore."
"Is that so?"
What began as casual inquiry now became genuine anticipation.
Even the telescope's unveiling hadn't elicited such secrecy.
Alas, Gu Yanshu remained resolute, his tone final:
"Yes."
Recognizing further questioning was futile, Qin Lu acquiesced.
At worst, he'd learn the answer by tomorrow—hardly an unbearable wait.