A’Luo brazenly left the residence with Xiao Yu in tow. Having done it once, there would be countless more times. Her restaurant with Zili opened smoothly. A’Luo had taught the chefs the series of vegetable dishes she knew how to make. The restaurant was named Suxin Studio. It had only seven or eight private rooms, and reservations were already booked two weeks in advance.

At home, the family had begun busily preparing for Qinglei’s marriage to the Crown Prince. When A’Luo first started going out, Chancellor Li would ask about her dealings with Liu Jue. A’Luo answered carefully, revealing nothing. As Chancellor Li grew busy with government affairs and worrying over Qinglei, he gradually asked less.

Liu Jue seemed to have vanished, not showing his face at all. A’Luo spent her days immersed in the joy that silver brought her. Whenever she had free time, she went with Zili to learn horseback riding. Life became carefree.

Zili, not knowing that A’Luo already knew his identity, said nothing about it, and A’Luo didn’t ask either. Zili often watched A’Luo leave the residence like a happy little bird and couldn’t help wanting to spoil her more. He found that being with A’Luo put him in an extremely good mood. Whatever troubles he had, being with A’Luo could often sweep them all away. Like the day A’Luo finally managed to gallop freely on horseback, her face flushed red from the ride, smiling brightly. “Elder Brother, it feels like flying. Freedom!”

Zili laughed. “What would flying feel like? Have you ever flown?”

A’Luo recalled the feeling of riding in a powerless glider before, and described it to Zili. “It’s that feeling of looking down at the earth from the sky, feeling your heart open wide.”

Zili said, “How could a person possibly fly through the air?”

A’Luo thought about it and had Zili’s attendant make a large kite. She said to Zili, “Elder Brother, I’ll gallop and launch the kite—you try standing on it using your lightness footwork.”

When Zili planted both feet on the kite, it sank down slightly, then was pulled along swiftly by A’Luo’s horse. The rising wind combined with Zili’s lightness skill, and in that moment, he truly felt the sensation of flying that A’Luo had described. Unfortunately, it only lasted a moment before it stopped working. But Zili remembered it deeply.

A’Luo knew many stories. Once she told Zili, “There was a man who complained to the gods that his burden was too heavy, that he was too tired, too bitter. The gods promised that as long as he didn’t look back, they would follow behind him, walking with him, and after walking for a while, he would never again feel bitter or tired. The man truly never looked back and kept walking forward. He walked past high mountains, past plains, past the sea. The further he walked, the smoother it went, the more relaxed he became. He said to the gods, why can’t you walk with me for my whole life? With you here, I’ve come so far, yet I’m getting more and more relaxed.”

Zili laughed. “That’s because the gods cast a spell, seeing him grow tired, and helped lighten his body.”

A’Luo smiled and looked at Zili. “The gods then had him look back. He was just passing a beach at that moment, and when he looked back, on the sand there were only his own footprints. The gods said, I actually never walked with you at all. Your god is within your own heart. Meaning, everyone is responsible for their own actions. Conquering yourself is conquering everything.”

Zili gazed deeply at A’Luo. After a long moment, he murmured in a voice A’Luo couldn’t hear, “You are the deity in my heart.”

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye. Though Qinglei was only a secondary consort to the Crown Prince, because the Crown Prince favored her, she still married with great pomp and splendor. On her wedding day, A’Luo saw for the first time the grand spectacle of an ancient crown prince taking a wife—though of course it wasn’t Qinglei this time, but Wang Yanhui. A’Luo marveled—there really is strength in numbers. The procession stretched for miles—was this the ancient equivalent of a military honor guard?

She and Xiao Yu leaned against the second floor of the restaurant, watching the excitement. Liu Jue suddenly appeared. “Long time no see. I hear you’ve learned to ride? Having a good time?”

A’Luo forced a smile. “Indeed. If you hadn’t shown up, I’d be even happier.”

Liu Jue lowered his voice. “After the Crown Prince’s wedding, the Fourth Prince will also marry soon.”

A’Luo made a sound of acknowledgment and lowered her voice too. “After the Crown Prince’s wedding, Chancellor Gu’s daughter will also be marrying out.”

Liu Jue was startled, then broke into a smile. “Aren’t the two of us fellow sufferers of heartbreak? Shall we go drink a toast together?”

A’Luo said scornfully, “You won’t use wine as an excuse to act crazy and embarrass yourself, will you?”

Liu Jue smiled. “If you’re overcome with sorrowful drink, I could hold you while you cry.”

A’Luo cursed, “Shameless scoundrel!”

Liu Jue laughed. “What do you mean by that?”

“The opposite of having any shame!”

“How could I have no shame? At most, I’d tuck my face away in my arms while holding you.”

Laughing loudly, Liu Jue walked away.

A month after the Crown Prince’s wedding, Zili used his flute to call A’Luo out, taking her on horseback straight through the west gate. The two rode for a while before stopping. A’Luo jumped off her horse and exclaimed in wonder, “I never expected the grasslands to be covered in flowers in April. Why are all the flowers here purple?”

Zili said with a smile, “These flowers are called North Star Orchid. They bloom in April and can last until the end of June.”

A’Luo looked at the grassland stretching to the horizon and said to Zili, “If only we had a tent—wouldn’t it be wonderful to camp on the grassland tonight, grill meat, and watch the stars?”

Zili laughed. “That’s not difficult at all. I’ll have it arranged.”

A’Luo said, troubled, “But I can’t come out at night. If that father of mine finds out, it would be terrible.”

Zili blinked. “Go to bed early, then sneak out quietly? I’ll come get you.”

A’Luo thought Zili was wonderful, so happy she couldn’t stop smiling. Zili looked at her and said, “A’Luo, you’ll turn fourteen this autumn, right? I think you’ve grown taller again.”

A’Luo measured with her hand—indeed, the top of her head now reached Zili’s shoulder. She thought she might grow even more, and how wonderful it would be to grow up. She bounced around telling Zili what things they’d need to prepare, what seasonings. Zili agreed to it all.

That evening, A’Luo waited until everyone had gone to sleep, locked her door from inside, quietly climbed out the window, and slipped lightly out of the courtyard. Zili was already waiting quietly in the bamboo grove and took A’Luo over the courtyard wall.

The city gates had already closed. Zili wound this way and that through winding paths, somehow managing to slip out of the city. He smiled at A’Luo. “The Kingdom of Ning is ancient—there are always some secrets not known to others. As it happens, I know one such secret passage.”

The two mounted their horses and galloped across the grassland, stars twinkling overhead like scattered diamonds, the moonlight exceptionally bright, not a single cloud in the sky. After riding for a while, they saw firelight.

Zili’s attendants had already prepared everything and quietly disappeared into the darkness once the two arrived.

A’Luo circled the campfire, grilling food, burying potatoes in the ashes. As soon as one was ready, Zili would eat it. A’Luo laughed at him. “Are you that hungry?”

Zili laughed. “If you hand it to me and I don’t eat it, wouldn’t that be rude?”

A’Luo, both amused and exasperated, could only order him to hold it himself. Once the food was mostly grilled, the two of them ate and chatted, passing skewers back and forth. Zili asked A’Luo, “If you knew I was a prince of the Kingdom of Ning, would you still associate with me?”

A’Luo said, “Haven’t I already been associating with you for this long? Elder Brother? Or should I call you Liu Fei?”

Zili smiled. “You’ve known for a while?”

“Yes. Liu Jue told me.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me about it?”

A’Luo crouched, digging out a potato. “Hot, quick, catch!” She tossed one to Liu Fei and tossed her own potato back and forth in her hands. “I already told you—if you wanted to tell me yourself, you would. If you didn’t want to, why would I ask?”

Zili slowly peeled the skin off a potato and handed it to A’Luo, taking hers and continuing to peel it. “Then did you already know Gu Tianlin was betrothed to me?”

A’Luo said between bites, “Yes, I knew.”

Zili said, “What do you think of Gu Tianlin?”

“Beautiful, proud, intelligent, very good. I have a good impression of her.”

“How did you two meet?”

A’Luo, eating comfortably, lay back and looked at the stars. “She played a piece called ‘Orchid Pendant’ at the Peach Blossom Banquet. Both the selection and the performance were first-rate—she stunned quite a few people with her music, and even now she has fans. Oh, that means admirers.”

“But why did the Crown Prince choose your elder sister instead of her?”

A’Luo was at a loss for words. Zili continued, “According to rumor, your elder sister’s piece ‘Autumn Waters’ overwhelmed the whole gathering with its skill, the zither music carefree, her aspirations lofty, her bearing extraordinary.”

A’Luo hastily nodded in agreement. Zili continued, “Yet when I went to the Eastern Palace and saw your elder sister, the Crown Prince happily had her play a piece. Though her skill wasn’t bad, it didn’t seem to match the rumors.”

A’Luo could only explain, “Perhaps after marrying the Crown Prince, my sister has focused wholeheartedly on being a good wife, not quite like when she was unmarried.”

Zili murmured, “A’Luo, you like the Gu family’s young lady, don’t you?”

“Yes, I even called her Sister Tianlin back then.”

Zili smiled. “Then, A’Luo, what kind of man would you want to marry?”

A’Luo thought of the stereotype of a domineering wife, and of the bumbling, good-natured leading man archetype, thinking of all the love stories she’d seen before. She smiled. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love before.”

Looking at the stars in the sky, A’Luo said to Zili, “I’m so lucky to have met you. I thought I wouldn’t meet any good men here.”

Zili’s eyes slowly brightened. A’Luo said, “Your eyes are so bright, like the stars in the sky. Elder Brother, you’re quite handsome.”

Zili looked up at the sky. “When I was little, my mother used to hold me and look at the stars, saying Zili’s eyes shone like stars. When I was little, I was very mischievous, and my elder brother doted on me greatly…”

A’Luo slowly listened to Zili talk about the past, and listening, she fell asleep. Zili watched her, entranced, and pulled a blanket over her, letting her head rest on his lap. Zili looked up at the star-filled sky. He thought, if only he could live like this always, free from court affairs, how wonderful that would be.

Just as A’Luo and Zili had leapt over the residence wall and out of the city, Liu Jue at his estate had already learned of this. Today felt different from before—he felt uneasy and restless. The thought of A’Luo spending the night on the grassland with the Fourth Prince made his heart ache unbearably. He sat in Songfeng Hall, staring at the portrait for a while, lost in thought, then summoned Liu Ying. “Gather the Black and Crimson groups. I’m leaving the city.”