Amid the dead silence of the rear hall, a thunderous roar of fury suddenly erupted. “Speak! Answer my question!”

Though the Xiliang Emperor had been somewhat slow-witted since childhood, and had ascended to the throne largely by chance, years of governing had long since sharpened his wits considerably!

This withdrawn, taciturn son of his rarely spoke much, rarely interacted much with anyone—yet he took strongly after his mother in one respect: possessed of extraordinary intelligence and boundless ambition!

This matter had to involve him somehow—otherwise, Jun Beiyue would never have come knocking on their door personally.

Jun Beiyue hadn’t come as an invited guest to attend the Sand Worship Ceremony—he’d come to demand an accounting, to settle a score, plainly speaking.

“What exactly happened in that naval battle between Da Zhou and Dongqin! If you don’t give me a clear answer tonight, you… you…”

The Xiliang Emperor pointed at Yelu Chenyi, so furious he could barely catch his breath. “You can go guard the imperial tombs instead!”

Yelu Chenyi kept his head bowed, showing no fear whatsoever at his father’s towering rage, no reaction at all. He simply sat down in silence.

Things had come to this point—there was no longer any point in hiding the truth from his father.

Or perhaps, this was actually an opportunity as well. He’d always wanted to begin construction at Mingsha Mountain, but doing so required his father’s consent.

“When I was six years old, at the foot of Mingsha Mountain, I encountered a girl named Yanzi…”

The room fell into silence as Yelu Chenyi began speaking flatly. Meanwhile, Jun Beiyue was making his way back to East Splendor Palace at that very moment, having sent Situ Haonan ahead alone, walking by himself down the quiet, deserted street, the moonlight stretching his shadow out long behind him.

Head bowed, he walked in silence, tracing his own shadow step by step, and found himself unwittingly recalling that same kind of quiet, still night when he’d led Ziqing away from right outside the Han Chancellor’s residence, in front of everyone.

Neither of them had spoken a single word, walking that same long, long road together, heads bowed, each tracing their own shadow.

From the Han Chancellor’s residence to the Prince Yao residence, that long, long stretch of road—he’d asked her only one question the entire way: “You can’t write, you can’t fight, so what can you do?”

She’d said she had nothing to offer, that she was unworthy of him.

He’d said that was exactly the kind of person he wanted.

In truth, back then, he’d only been drawn to her for her unique constitution—to put it another way, he’d had his own designs on cultivating a poison-immune corpse-warrior from her. Except…

She’d turned out to be so extraordinarily unique—her personality, her capabilities, even the simplest sentence from her could pique his interest.

He himself had never been much of a talker either, yet somehow, around her, he’d often found himself unable to resist saying more.

Thinking of this, an involuntary bitterness welled up in his chest. So long, so very long, since he’d last heard her voice.

When would she finally wake?

They’d only been apart for a matter of days, yet it felt like years had passed. He hadn’t brought Ziqing to Akebaqu with him—instead, he’d entrusted her to an old friend outside the city.

Suddenly, the sound of urgent hoofbeats interrupted Jun Beiyue’s thoughts. Turning around, he saw the Xiliang wedding envoy himself, riding hard to catch up with him!

East Splendor Palace and West Splendor Palace stood at opposite ends of Akebaqu, the two most distant palaces from one another—Yelu Chenyi had clearly arranged it deliberately, to keep the two sides apart.

The Xiliang envoy’s sudden arrival seemed to be something Jun Beiyue had already anticipated. He stopped in his tracks, his expression cold and impassive, unsettlingly so—until the envoy finally reached him, at which point a smile suddenly appeared on his face.

The Xiliang envoy dismounted hurriedly. “Prince Yao!”

“Envoy, this is…” Jun Beiyue asked, feigning ignorance.

“Prince Yao, might I ask what piece you played in the hall earlier tonight? I wonder if it might be possible…”

The Xiliang minister used the formal address “you” with notable courtesy—though given Jun Beiyue’s status, such a respectful title was certainly warranted.

“A piece I happened to acquire. Does the envoy have some particular interest in it?” Jun Beiyue asked.

“It’s a favorite of our Crown Prince’s. He’s had this humble official searching far and wide for renowned pieces. Tonight, hearing Prince Yao’s rendition, I must say it surpasses any piece this humble official has managed to find these past several years. I wonder if Prince Yao might consider parting with it.”

As the Xiliang envoy spoke, seeming to realize his request was rather presumptuous, he hastily added, “Whatever conditions Prince Yao sets, provided you’re willing to part with it, this lowly one will agree to anything.”

Such a sweeping promise?

A cold flicker of amusement passed through Jun Beiyue’s eyes as he said, “This piece pairs perfectly with Princess Qianqian’s dance, don’t you think.”

The envoy nodded repeatedly. “Indeed, indeed it does.”

Jun Beiyue smiled faintly, saying nothing further, and continued walking forward. The envoy hastily followed alongside. “Prince Yao, how might I persuade you to part with it? Please, do tell.”

“It’s nothing especially rare, really—only this piece happens to be a gift from a friend. That friend won’t arrive for another five days. Why don’t we do this: I’ll give you my answer in five days?”

Hearing this, the Xiliang envoy waved his hands hastily. “Prince Yao, five days won’t work! We depart to begin the wedding procession in three days’ time—this lowly one simply cannot wait five days!”

Three days?

A cold flicker passed through Jun Beiyue’s eyes. So Yelu Chenyi had spread word of a three-day timeline—clearly, he was being watched and guarded against.

Tomorrow’s Sand Worship Ceremony would run for three days, and yet they were already rushing to marry off Yelu Qianqian immediately afterward? That seemed remarkably hasty indeed!

“Envoy, please go back. Even if you were to wait five days, my friend might well be unwilling to part with it regardless.” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

The Xiliang envoy chased after him for several more steps, pleading repeatedly, yet Jun Beiyue offered nothing further.

Left with no choice, the envoy relented. “In that case, might I at least ask, Prince Yao, what is this piece called…?”

“Lishang.” This time, Jun Beiyue answered readily and directly.

“Lishang—could this be the very Lishang composed by Xuanyuan Lige, the finest musician under heaven?” The Xiliang envoy blurted out at once.

Lishang—the name certainly carried great renown, though far too many legends surrounded it. That it had been composed by Xuanyuan Lige was merely the most widespread theory—so widespread, in fact, that even the Nanzhao royal house had never taken Xuanyuan Lige’s own version of Lishang particularly seriously, dismissing it as nothing more than an imitation.

“Precisely.” Jun Beiyue said flatly. Xuanyuan Lige’s current whereabouts remained unknown—everyone assumed Xuanyuan Lige himself was in Jun Beiyue’s custody, when in truth, Jun Beiyue was searching for him as well.

An extra pair of hands helping in that search certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“My deepest thanks, Prince Yao!” The Xiliang envoy clasped his hands together in a bow, then hurried off at once.

Jun Beiyue didn’t spare him another glance, continuing on in silence. Back in Nanzhao, he’d already seen through this envoy’s true identity, and when Ziqing had first mentioned Yelu Qianqian’s betrothal to him, he’d immediately noticed something peculiar about the arrangement.

The Xiliang Crown Prince was certainly no man of grand ambition, yet he was also, evidently, utterly obsessed with dance. For him to abandon any prospect of war against Xijing simply to marry Yelu Qianqian, there had to be some deeper reason behind it.

Without question, it had been Yelu Chenyi who’d orchestrated the entire affair, engineering the Xiliang Crown Prince’s interest in Yelu Qianqian from the very start!

Prince Baxian had warned him repeatedly—that a beautiful woman brings ruin, disaster to the realm.

That principle, he understood perfectly well.

If Yelu Chenyi could exploit Yelu Qianqian to forge an unbreakable marital alliance safeguarding Xijing’s western frontier, then Jun Beiyue could just as easily flip his hand and tear that very defense apart entirely!

Anyone who had ever laid a hand on Ziqing—he would spare not a single one of them!

Xuanyuan Zhaoxi had merely been the warning shot!

The moment the Xiliang envoy returned to West Splendor Palace, he dismounted hastily and rushed inside, tearing off his thick false beard as he issued an order at once. “Someone, spread the word—find Xuanyuan Lige, the finest musician of the Central Plains! Whatever means necessary, bring him to Xiliang! This crown prince intends to give Princess Qianqian a wedding gift she’ll never forget!”

He strode forward briskly, and no sooner had he finished tearing off the beard than he began shedding his robes, thoroughly uncomfortable in this borrowed Xijing attire he’d worn to blend in.

Xiliang, with its abundant volcanoes and scorching climate, favored a style of dress entirely opposite to Xijing’s own.

Once the long robe fell away and the false wig was yanked off, it revealed a head of short, handsome, close-cropped hair—his face still hidden from view, yet his tall, imposing frame, dressed in white with bronze totem-patterned trim, a bronze tiger-head ornament perched proudly on his right shoulder, his powerful, striding gait alone was enough to spark endless speculation…