As Xuanyuan Lige came back to himself and met Yu Xiaomeng’s tear-filled, red-rimmed eyes, the curve of his smile faltered slightly. Somewhere deep inside, something ached at the sight, leaving him faintly uncomfortable.
“Are you leaving? Going off to fight?” Yu Xiaomeng finally asked again, her tearful gaze unwavering.
Xuanyuan Lige looked at her silently for a long, long moment before handing her a handkerchief. “In about half a year, Longyuan will fall into chaos. I’m not leaving.”
Yu Xiaomeng blinked, not quite understanding what he meant—but she didn’t have room to care about that. All she’d heard was “I’m not leaving.” She stared at him blankly for a moment, then suddenly leapt up in excitement and threw herself at him, hugging him tight. “Really? You’re not lying to me? Only puppies lie!”
Xuanyuan Lige gently pushed her away, seamlessly, without fuss. He wasn’t used to this kind of contact—no matter how much he’d adapted to local customs, this was simply something he couldn’t manage.
“Mm. Not lying. I’m never leaving,” he said flatly.
Yu Xiaomeng grew even more excited, immediately grabbing his hand—but once again, Xuanyuan Lige slipped free of her grip, just as smoothly as before.
Finally, even Yu Xiaomeng, oblivious as she usually was, noticed his resistance. A flicker of embarrassment crossed her eyes, a touch of disappointment—but it was quickly overtaken by excitement again!
No matter what, he’d promised not to leave!
She wanted to tell the whole clan—Young Master Lishang wasn’t leaving, never leaving, ever. But how could she possibly know just how far “forever” really was to him?
Even with her hand pushed away, even with her heart a little wounded, Yu Xiaomeng still smiled, beaming with joy, and held out her little finger earnestly. “Let’s hook fingers on it. You can’t lie to me!”
Her eyes glimmered with tears, her lips curved in a radiant smile, so simple and sincere—no matter how bad one’s mood, a girl like this could still stir something warm.
Xuanyuan Lige smiled faintly, said nothing, and reached out to hook his finger with hers.
“It’s a promise!” Yu Xiaomeng said, true to her chatty nature, pressing him for reassurance.
He gave a helpless little smile. “It’s a promise.”
“Forever!” she said, beaming even brighter, a faint note of happiness in her voice.
But he said nothing more, simply letting go of her hand and patting her shoulder. “It’s getting late. Go to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll go hunting in the mountains with you.”
On any ordinary day, Yu Xiaomeng would have leapt for joy at that—but this time, she remained stubbornly insistent, hooking her little finger with his again.
“Forever!”
Xuanyuan Lige looked at her and suddenly laughed. “Miss Yu… just how far is forever, really?”
“A lifetime! Until we’re old! No, wait! Until death!” Yu Xiaomeng blinked her big eyes, utterly earnest.
“All right. Until death, then. I won’t leave until then,” Xuanyuan Lige said, still smiling.
Only then did Yu Xiaomeng finally let go. She had no way of seeing the depths hidden in this man’s eyes—she was simply overjoyed, thrilled beyond words. This was the very first time she’d ever received a promise from a man she loved.
It wasn’t a promise of love, true—but it could still count as a promise to remain in her world.
She thought, they were still so young—how far could “forever” really be, after all? A whole lifetime lay ahead. As long as he didn’t leave, she still had hope.
Yu Xiaomeng left in high spirits, far too excited to sleep, hurrying instead to her mother’s room to share the good news.
Xuanyuan Lige slowly closed the door behind her, then fetched an oil lamp and set fire to the map he’d carried with him, unparted, since childhood—just like his medicine.
If one had to compare him to Jun Beiyue—in terms of status, he was born the legitimate crown prince, ranking even higher; in terms of ability, he too could plan strategies from a thousand miles away and secure victory.
Even with only thirty years allotted to him, he too could turn all of Longyuan upside down in that short span of time.
The one true difference between them was this: over the past twenty-some years, Jun Beiyue had lived for himself, while he had lived for Dongqin.
The map that had stayed by his side for over a decade turned to ash within moments—just as a companion of over a decade might, one day, simply be gone.
These past days, the pain had been steadily worsening, seeming to spread outward from his chest toward all his internal organs.
Xuanyuan Lige pressed a hand gently to his chest, then gently blew the ashes off the table. From tonight onward, Xuanyuan Lige was truly dead. From now on, he was simply Young Master Lishang…
Lishang, Lishang—let even that tune, “Lishang,” vanish along with the lost Demon Zither.
Yet he had no idea that, even now, Nanny Qin had already carried the secret of the Lishang totem map away from Yaoshun Island!
The first to discover the secret of the totem on Yaoshun Island had been the Empress of Dongqin herself—but the affairs of state and war had long since driven the matter from her mind. And after her defeat and flight from Nanzhao, after Da Zhou declared war on her, the Empress of Dongqin had abandoned the matter of the Lonely Isle entirely. Now, she focused solely on the coming battle, wielding her greatest bargaining chip in her standoff with Jun Beiyue.
Back then, it was she who had first sent people to Yaoshun Island—and that group had all been Nanny Qin’s own men.
No one knew that the secret of the totem had long since fallen into Nanny Qin’s hands.
The moment Nanny Qin came ashore, she searched everywhere for Xuanyuan Lige, but couldn’t find him anywhere, and had no choice but to return to Dongqin.
“Your Majesty, no matter what, you cannot give up on His Highness the Crown Prince!”
This was likely the first time Nanny Qin had ever raised her voice so sharply to the Empress of Dongqin.
“Nanny Qin, what is this attitude? Presuming on your age and seniority?” the Empress of Dongqin shot back coldly. Nanny Qin had served and raised her since childhood, the most senior attendant of all—but that didn’t mean she had the right to be so bold!
Nanny Qin knew full well her own low standing and softened her tone, saying earnestly, “Princess, he is still your own flesh and blood, after all.”
“Princess”—an old form of address, carrying with it years of devotion between mistress and servant.
“My own flesh and blood? A traitor who eats from my table while serving another’s interests, who turns against his own kin—I don’t need a son like that!” the Empress of Dongqin snapped furiously, immediately launching into accusations. “Word of Da Zhou’s declaration of war on Dongqin has spread to the ends of the earth—there’s no way he doesn’t know. And still he hasn’t come back! If it weren’t for him, if he hadn’t failed to leave behind the tiger tally for the Yinsha Army, would I have had to lower myself to curry favor with the Huns, to invite a tiger into my own house?”
Nanny Qin said nothing, clutching the secret of the totem close to her chest, her eyes reddening deeply.
The Empress of Dongqin grew angrier and angrier as she spoke, slamming her hand on the table again and again. “This is my own flesh-and-blood son! If I’d known it would come to this, what was the point of searching every corner of the land for miracle physicians, of preserving his life at all? Never mind the grudges between our nations—what about Zhaoxi! His own sister, dead so horribly, and he can’t escape blame for that either! They were on the very same ship!”
The Empress of Dongqin railed on, breathless with fury, until, without warning, Nanny Qin suddenly broke into sobs, sinking slowly to her knees. “Princess… is A’Li… is he…”
Nanny Qin covered her mouth, choking, unable to finish the sentence. She had searched everywhere, checked every one of the crown prince’s contacts scattered across every nation, gone to every old dead-drop location they’d once used to pass secret messages—and found not a single trace.
The last known news was that the crown prince had boarded a ship with the princess at Dongqin’s harbor.
Seeing Nanny Qin like this, the Empress of Dongqin suddenly seemed to realize something, and froze completely, too stunned to speak.
Nanny Qin’s sobbing grew louder and louder, nearly hysterical. “Princess… is that child A’Li… is he… is he gone?”