Lu Xian had dreamed before—dreamed of the Prince of Hengyang becoming emperor, Cousin Luo becoming empress, Third Brother dying tragically, and the imperial power suppressing noble families like the Lu clan. In the dream, he was horrified and enraged; the nobleman who usually indulged in poetry and paintings felt heart-wrenching pain seeing his brother die like that. He questioned his nightmare repeatedly, constantly asking himself. A scholarly gentleman began to view the world around him with new eyes, finally seeing how many things had happened in the shadows, in places he knew nothing about…

For instance, Lu Yun and his cousin standing before the shelter on a rainy night, rain splashing like lotus petals on the mossy corners beneath the trees. The two stood quietly as the young master bent down to put the bamboo hat on her and help her with the rain cape. Rain fell like threads, worldly affairs far away.

That night, Second Young Master Lu Xian tossed and turned, dreaming again. A new dream, continuing from the previous one—

Jianye was no longer the Jianye of old. In the dream, it was no longer admired by scholars or sought after by noble families. Third Young Master died at the border, and the new emperor used charges of “delaying military operations” and “harming the country and people” to suppress top-ranking noble families represented by the Lu clan. The new emperor’s methods were harsh, countless crimes were pinned on the Third Young Master, and overnight, the Lu family fell from a top-tier noble house to a thorn in the new emperor’s side. Yet how could noble families, with their officials and scholars spread throughout the court and countryside, be suppressed merely because the new emperor wished it?

The noble families, led by the Lu clan, fought for power against the imperial family represented by the new emperor. Meanwhile, after Third Young Master’s death, scholars across the land denounced everything, pointing directly at the new Southern emperor as the root cause:

The new emperor had forced Third Young Master onto the battlefield despite his complete ignorance of the border situation between North and South and had driven Prince Chen, who had pleaded for Third Young Master, out of Jianye. Third Young Master’s tragic death and Prince Chen’s exile pushed public anger to its peak. For Third Young Master was not just the third son of Jianye Danyang’s Lu family—he was also a renowned scholar of the Southern Kingdom.

In this era, scholars were highly respected and had enormous influence over the public. After the Third Young Master’s death, virtually all scholars and common people throughout the land grieved for him. Even Northern scholars mourned him. Scholars were proud and unyielding, each unmoved by imperial power, writing poetry en masse to curse the new emperor, who wished he could kill them all. Only then did the new emperor realize how terrifyingly powerful the noble families’ influence was, and the scholars’ influence made it even harder for him to govern.

The new emperor was rash, the noble families were powerful, and both sides suffered heavy losses in their struggle. Noble families had always wielded great power; when the new emperor displeased them, they thought to depose him and replace him with a more suitable emperor. How could the new emperor tolerate this? Already quick-tempered by nature, he was driven by the noble families to begin a great slaughter.

At this time, the Northern Kingdom watched like a tiger eyeing its prey. After the Third Young Master’s death, while the Southern emperor was busy with internal strife, the North sent tens of thousands of troops south, crossing the Yangtze River, striking at the heart of power, and directly attacking Jianye. But by then, both the emperor and noble families had depleted their forces through internal fighting. The army was exhausted and unable to respond to the Northern invasion. The Southern Kingdom was filled with cries of grief and complaint—the capital was in danger.

When the emperor held court, everyone racked their brains for ideas on how to deal with the Northern army’s vast forces. But with enemy troops at the city gates, people were panic-stricken. The discussions were chaotic, and looking at the young emperor on his high seat, supporting his head with bloodshot eyes, even his trusted court officials couldn’t help saying: “Your Majesty shouldn’t have killed Third Young Master Lu…”

When even his people began to waver and doubt his strategy, the new emperor Liu Mu, who had been irritated for months, flew into a rage. He drew his sword in court and shouted: “Silence, all of you! What use is there in saying these things now? My head aches from your noise… Now you all blame me, but didn’t you agree when I wanted to suppress and check the noble families?”

The pressure of the past few months had exhausted him, and he wept in despair: “I am a ruler who will lose his kingdom… I have no words to face my ancestors in the nine springs. And what are you all?”

“The enemy is at our gates, yet instead of finding solutions, you’re all busy pointing fingers. Have you all prepared to flee?”

Liu Mu’s heart grew cold. He threw down his sword and left, unwilling to say another word to his court officials. He had only been emperor for a few months, yet so much had happened. In the dream, Second Young Master Lu Xian watched hazily as the former Prince of Hengyang, now emperor, was no longer spirited and proud, but visibly exhausted and besieged on all sides. Even the legitimacy of his throne was questioned.

Liu Mu, heart full of melancholy, left Zhaoyang Palace and went to the inner palace to speak with the empress. The entire palace was desolate, everyone uneasy. Seeing Jianye’s imminent fall, even palace residents began planning their escape. Walking along, Liu Mu saw many fleeing palace servants but was too weary to bother with them now. The palace was in chaos, with Daoist priests and shamans performing rituals, dressed strangely, jumping about, and singing incomprehensible tunes. The priests and shamans each performed their rituals, praying for the Southern Kingdom’s capital to safely overcome this crisis.

As Liu Mu walked silently toward the empress’s palace amid the shamans’ chanting, a palace maid fleeing with a bundle crashed into him. The maid was terrified, and upon seeing him, her face instantly turned pale. With a rustle, the bundle in her arms scattered across the ground, painting scrolls and gold and silver items falling from the wrappings.

Liu Mu noticed something odd about this maid’s manner and looked down. At a glance, he saw an opened scroll revealing a painting. The painting was just an ordinary landscape, nothing unusual, but what made Liu Mu’s face change dramatically was the signature: “Plum-Seeking Recluse.”

Liu Mu’s face turned ashen, his mind suddenly blank.

Plum-Seeking Recluse was the deceased Third Young Master Lu Yun. After the Third Young Master’s death, the emperor conducted extensive searches, burning all surviving poems and paintings by the Plum-Seeking Recluse. The emperor loathed the scholars’ attacks on him and particularly avoided mentioning the Third Young Master. Yet unexpectedly, one day a palace maid fleeing from the empress’s palace would carry such a painting…

Luo Lingyu!

So it was true!

The maid knelt begging for mercy, crying that “it has nothing to do with Her Majesty the Empress” and “Her Majesty only told this servant to escape.” But Liu Mu wasn’t listening anymore. He kicked the maid aside and drew the sword from a nearby guard’s waist. The young emperor’s face was full of murderous rage, his eyes blood-red as he carried the sword into the empress’s chambers, his voice shaking with anger: “Luo Lingyu!”

Second Young Master Lu Xian, floating like a ghost outside the dream, following the former Prince of Hengyang’s gaze, finally saw his cousin Luo Lingyu, whom he hadn’t seen for so long in the dream. The curtains parted, revealing the lady sitting lost in thought before her dressing table. She was graceful and elegant, beautiful as a portrait of a noble lady. Though she was a sight to please the eye, His Majesty strode in quickly, sword in hand. The emperor’s sword lifted the curtains, its blade pointing at the lady who turned to look at him calmly. Liu Mu spoke harshly:

“You still keep his paintings!”

In the dream, Luo Lingyu paused, then said: “I married you.”

Liu Mu laughed bitterly, rushing forward to grip her neck. The lady had just risen when he pushed her down onto the couch. She gasped, her slender neck showing red marks from his grip, her breathing irregular as her beautiful eyes stared at the emperor. Liu Mu spoke coldly: “Now that I’ve lost power, you won’t even pretend anymore, is that it? You blame me for killing him too, don’t you? Since his death, you’ve hated me to the bone, haven’t you?”

Luo Lingyu struggled to breathe: “No, I haven’t…”

“Stop lying to me! Stop lying to me! I am your husband, why do you always put on an act for me?” Years of grievances had become an illness, his heart full of resentment. Liu Mu roared, his neck red and veins bulging, “Back then I forced you to marry me, you weren’t willing… You think I didn’t know? After being named princess, you still met with him! You two were truly a perfect match of talent and beauty… I didn’t settle accounts with you because you hadn’t been with him privately after marriage, but you… you’ve always kept his paintings! Your heart yearned for the Plum-Seeking Recluse, and now that he’s dead, you must hate me to death, right?”

Luo Lingyu replied calmly: “I… I never… he’s already gone…”

Liu Mu suddenly became calm, “Your heart is ice, no, you don’t have a heart at all. Except for him, you didn’t care which man married you, did you? You appear obedient to me on the surface, but I never knew what you were thinking. Now I know, you still hate me for taking you away from him. If it hadn’t been for me, with your skills, you might have married into the Lu family… But I didn’t wrong you. Neither you nor he would yield, both waiting for the other to bow first. Back then, even if it hadn’t been me… you wouldn’t have married him!”

“He’s dead, and you hate me. I don’t need a woman of divided loyalties by my side.”

The young emperor threw down his sword and gripped the slender neck of the lady in his arms with both hands. His eyes were swollen blood-red as if about to drip, watching her beautiful face gradually turn white, watching her wither like a flower in his hands. The lady’s long black hair, like silk and waterfalls, scattered in his arms. He suddenly remembered the first time he saw her, her stunning beauty. Now she lay beneath him, still beautiful, but without struggle, without trying to please him as usual, without desperately trying to survive. Perhaps her heart had truly grown cold… After all, she didn’t love him, so with the empire falling, nothing mattered anymore. The emperor’s heart was full of sorrow, tears welling in his eyes: “Lingyu… Yu’er… don’t blame me…”

Second Young Master Lu Xian, floating like a ghost nearby, saw the emperor’s eyes full of tears, then saw the lady in his hands breathing more and more weakly. Lu Xian rushed forward, trying to save his cousin, but he couldn’t touch them. He could only cry out in anguish: “No! Stop, stop—”

Through the layers of the deep palace, shamans shook bells and danced, still performing their rituals. Who knew what kind of ritual they were performing, or what result they sought? The Liu Mu in the dream naturally couldn’t hear the Second Young Master’s voice. His face stiffened, and after the lady in his arms stopped breathing completely, he stared blankly. Then he held the beautiful woman tightly and burst into tears, mumbling: “I’ve wronged you… Yu’er, don’t blame me… if there’s a next life…”

“It would be better if you never knew me…”

“How did I end up here… abandoned by all, Jianye empty, even you weren’t truly mine…”

“Was everything wrong?”

Amid the shamans’ ritual sounds, as His Majesty the Emperor held the deceased empress in grief, he suddenly heard a boom, the entire ground shaking. From far away came a hysterical shout: “Your Majesty, flee quickly—the Northern army has broken through the palace gates!”

In the silence, sitting quietly beside the dead lady, Liu Mu lowered his head, dim light falling on his handsome brow. His face was covered in tears, in exhaustion, too tired to speak a word. The entire palace was in panic, with people fleeing in all directions. He took one last look at the beautiful woman dead beside him, picked up the sword he had thrown down, placed it across his neck, and blood spurted forth…

“No!” Second Young Master gasped for breath, sitting up from his dream. His face was red with fever, his back soaked through with layer after layer of sweat, completely drenching his lined jacket.

Lady Lu, who was sitting beside him about to wipe his sweat, was startled by his sudden movement: “What’s wrong with you now, child? Why do you keep getting fevers lately? In just one short month, you’ve had two fevers already, you worry me… Are you feeling better now? We should find you a wife soon to take care of you. Otherwise, in the middle of the night, your mother has to…”

As Lady Lu rambled on to her son, her son Lu Xian stared blankly, lost in thought—

The dream, it had happened, hadn’t it?

That pain, he felt it as if it were his own.

The third Brother died, Cousin Luo died, Liu Mu died, and the Southern Kingdom fell. With the great house collapsed, how could the Lu family protect itself? Everything was over… Was this the final ending? Had he finally seen the conclusion of that unfinished dream from that day?

Looking at Lady Lu, thinking of how his mother would surely perish in that future upheaval. All the Lu family members would perish, all of Jianye would perish, the entire Southern Kingdom would… Second Young Master clutched his chest, his gaze fixed, and collapsed again with a thud, fainting. Lady Lu was frightened, patting his back and calling to him but receiving no response, quickly sent for the physician who had just left. Lady Lu was deeply worried, asking people to examine what illness her son had: he had never been this weak before, had he?