It began to rain in the dead of night, pitter-pattering against the boat planks. The light vessel danced across the water, threading through mountain-enclosed waterways. One could faintly hear the wind wandering, mixing with the fine autumn rain, falling in delicate threads into the quiet river.

Chu Qiao awoke deep in the night, her dark tresses scattered around her neck, her cheeks flushed, eyes still drowsy with sleep. Her skin was like white satin as she lay amidst layers of brocade. She stretched out her slender, graceful arm, reaching out to touch beside her, but felt only coldness.

Startled, her drowsiness instantly vanished. She sat up immediately and saw the room was empty, with only herself in it. Outside the window, everything remained pitch black, and somehow it had started raining.

She suddenly felt anxious and quickly got out of bed, but as soon as her toes touched the floor, her knees weakened. There was a faint pain in her lower body, so vivid that it spread throughout her entire being. It seemed to remind her that after today, everything had already changed.

She put on a water-blue gown embroidered with pale white flowers and lush leaves. The embroidery thread delicately outlined her slender waist, with peach-colored stamens sewn stitch by stitch. The simple hem and cloud-like water sleeves draped over her shoulders. She took a bamboo-framed blue umbrella, opened the cabin door, and walked outside.

It was cold outside. The fine rain was like silk, resembling the drizzle of early spring, blown slantwise by the wind. Even with the umbrella, raindrops occasionally landed playfully on the hem of her dress, swirling lightly in the night breeze. She hurried across the empty deck, her dress hem already wet, her figure so light. The darkness enveloped her from all sides, with towering mountains on both shores and occasionally she could hear the clear, lingering cries of gibbons.

He stood at the bow of the ship facing the wind, seemingly having stood there for a long time. Dressed in a moon-white robe, tall and handsome, in the twilight shadows, he exuded a subtle, suppressed melancholy. Hearing footsteps, he turned around, and seeing it was her, he wasn’t surprised. He simply extended his hand and said quietly, “Come here.”

Chu Qiao quickly ran over, holding the umbrella over his head. Though the rain was fine, standing in it for long would still soak one through. His clothes were already damp, emanating a cold moisture. She frowned and said, “Can’t you see it’s raining?”

The mountain wind moaned as it passed between them, billowing his wide sleeves. He held her hand, his knuckles distinct, fingers long and strong. Suddenly, he embraced her, saying nothing, just holding her silently. He didn’t use much force, yet it was as if steel bars constrained her, making her afraid to move at all.

“Zhuge Yue?”

Time passed silently. She called him softly: “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

His voice was calm, like a tranquil lake. A few years’ absence had matured the once unruly young man. His gaze was now serene, occasionally flashing with a hint of coldness—all worldly experiences adding to his weathered demeanor. His voice carried gentleness, yet always concealed icy layers and undercurrents beneath. His emotions were not visible on his face, making it difficult to discern his thoughts.

“Xing’er, I’ve wronged you.”

He suddenly said this. Chu Qiao frowned in confusion: “What are you talking about?”

“I owe you.” Zhuge Yue’s lips curled into a smile, silently laughing. As if speaking to a child, he gently patted her cheek and said, “I will make it up to you in the future.”

“Zhuge Yue, what’s wrong?”

Chu Qiao grew nervous, clutching Zhuge Yue’s sleeve, looking up to ask, “I don’t feel wrong at all. I chose this myself.”

Zhuge Yue smiled, still with that unparalleled elegance. He stretched his arms to embrace her, resting his chin on the top of her head, just holding her that way. He didn’t hold her tightly, as if cradling a piece of porcelain.

Some words he didn’t say, allowing them to disperse with his breath into the gentle river breeze.

He had always believed he was much better than Yan Xun, that only by his side could Chu Qiao find true happiness and protection.

But in this matter, he was not as good as that man. After ten years together, Yan Xun was indeed a gentleman, while he had developed his selfish desires.

But what could he do about it?

With her, he had never been confident, always cautious, treading on thin ice.

The closer happiness came, the more afraid he became. So selfishly, he wanted to possess a little more, then a little more, and still more.

Sometimes, he mocked himself—who would have thought that you, Zhuge Yue, would have such a day?

But often afterward, his heart would be filled with even greater anxiety about gain and loss. He was such an unrestrained person—imperial ambitions, mountains, rivers, wealth, and fortune—all were just grand gambles made with the flick of a finger. Yet she alone was the one game he could never solve in his lifetime.

Chu Qiao still mumbled softly in his arms, seemingly trying to comfort him, repeatedly saying, “It’s nothing, I wanted it myself.”

He covered her mouth with his hand, then picked her up and carried her toward the cabin.

Chu Qiao let out a soft “Ah!” The bamboo umbrella fell to the ground. Fine rain struck her cheeks, cool and refreshing. She buried her face in his chest and protested in a hushed voice, “Put me down! It would be terrible if Mei Xiang and the others saw us!”

Zhuge Yue looked down and imperiously said, “Shut up.”

Chu Qiao frowned, reflexively snapping back, “I won’t!”

Zhuge Yue smiled, still in his usual manner. His lips curved upward, but he made no sound. He lowered his head and captured her lips with his, kissing her tenderly and deeply. Right there at the cabin door, under the night sky, he openly savored the sweetness of her mouth. After a long, long while, until Chu Qiao was completely limp and breathless, he finally released her.

He looked at her with an amused smile, slightly tinged with a hint of triumphant provocation: “I have plenty of ways to make you quiet.”

Chu Qiao hurriedly covered her swollen lips with both hands, her large black eyes wide with anger as she glared at him, silently protesting.

Zhuge Yue smiled and carried her back to the room. Fortunately, it was late at night, and everyone had gone to bed. They didn’t meet anyone along the way.

As soon as they reached the room, Chu Qiao quickly jumped down and assumed a defensive posture, glaring at him vigilantly. Seeing him casually undressing, she couldn’t help but blush.

Zhuge Yue suddenly leaned forward with a light laugh, his warm breath on her ear as he whispered, “Does it still hurt?”

Chu Qiao’s face turned even redder. She was always like this—capable of fighting in battle and commanding armies of millions, yet when faced with these matters, her skin was as thin as an unworldly maiden’s. Just one sentence was enough to make her utterly flustered.

Zhuge Yue embraced her from behind, his hands wandering downward. Chu Qiao was startled and quickly grabbed his restless hands, pressing them firmly against her burning stomach.

“Hmm?” Zhuge Yue asked, “I’m asking you a question. Does it still hurt?”

Chu Qiao was greatly embarrassed, shaking her head wildly like a frightened rabbit.

Zhuge Yue chuckled, a mischievous expression crossing his face as he deliberately whispered in her ear, “It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

She quickly nodded again.

“Then let’s continue.”

“What?” Chu Qiao was shocked, her mouth gaping wide enough to fit an egg.

Zhuge Yue burst into laughter at her reaction and lifted her into his arms, placing her on the bed. Chu Qiao didn’t know what had happened to her. Where was her martial skill? Her agility? Her nimble movements? Why was it that whenever he came close, her body became so soft and devoid of strength?

She stared stupidly as his face drew nearer—his straight nose, thin lips, alluring eyes, smooth skin. When he smiled slightly, he possessed a splendid elegance that could captivate anyone.

She froze, allowing him to claim her cherry lips. A wave of tingling numbness crawled up her spine, hot as electricity. Her shell-like teeth were pried open, his skillful tongue entering. His kiss changed from gentle to passionate, and she went from initial shock to gradually trying to respond. Her body trembled slightly, and her breathing became irregular and hurried. She finally surrendered to his seductive techniques, softly leaning in his embrace, like a disturbed spring lake, ripples spreading everywhere, beyond anyone’s control.

Her clothes had been removed at some point, leaving only a short undergarment, revealing her long legs and snow-white arms.

But at this moment, he smiled and pulled up a blanket, wrapping her in it. Then he kissed her face and held her in his arms, his voice slightly hoarse as he said with a smile, “All right, let’s sleep.”

Chu Qiao was stunned, not quite processing what was happening, and asked foolishly, “Sleep?”

“What?” Zhuge Yue propped his head with one hand, lying on his side as he looked at her flushed face, smiling as he said, “You don’t want to sleep?”

“I do!” Chu Qiao immediately exclaimed exaggeratedly, even yawning to show how very, very tired she was.

Zhuge Yue lay down and embraced her. He hadn’t intended anything more; after all, it was Chu Qiao’s first time, and she couldn’t so quickly endure a second round of passion. But just now, he had almost been unable to stop himself. He had to close his eyes and say, “Then let’s sleep.”

But someone in his arms gradually became restless.

She moved her arms a bit, changed positions, like a fidgety puppy, digging here and there, her hair fluffy, making one want to sneeze.

Zhuge Yue slightly furrowed his brow as the fire inside him kept rising. He tried his utmost to control it, but couldn’t suppress it.

He frowned and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Aren’t you going back to your room?” Chu Qiao looked up pitifully, her cheeks red as she said, “What if Mei Xiang and the others see us tomorrow morning? Ping An and Jing Jing are still little, they’re just children.”

Zhuge Yue continued to frown: “How old are they now? Still children? Have you forgotten, when you were their age, you almost ravished me in Wu Peng City?”

“I did not!” When it came to her reputation, Chu Qiao immediately retorted, “You’re making this up!”

“Oh really?” Zhuge Yue snorted, “You disguised yourself as a favorite concubine sent by Master Tian to warm my bed, parading before me barely clothed—weren’t you trying to take advantage of me?”

“Zhuge Yue, you—”

“You can speak even louder if you like. Then they’ll all know about it, not tomorrow morning, but in a moment.”

Chu Qiao quickly lowered her voice, glaring at him fiercely, gritting her teeth as she said, “I was trying to save someone then. How was I to know you would be there? You clearly know the whole story, stop pretending.”

“Hmph!”

Zhuge Yue impatiently rolled his eyes, his expression seeming to say, “I knew you would make excuses like this.”

Seeing he wasn’t speaking, Chu Qiao breathed heavily for a while, her aggressive demeanor subsiding. Then she pushed him again and said, “Hey! Go back to your room. This bed is too small, I can’t sleep well.”

This bed was small? Four people could lie side by side without feeling cramped. Zhuge Yue pretended not to hear and continued to sleep with his eyes closed.

“Hey! Go back to your room, what do you think you’re doing staying in mine?”

Seeing that Zhuge Yue was truly immovable as a mountain, Chu Qiao angrily sat up, grabbing her clothes, ready to leave. But just as she was about to climb over Zhuge Yue, her waist was suddenly caught, her elbow losing strength, and she fell onto Zhuge Yue’s chest.

The man’s eyes flashed with sparks, narrowing menacingly into slits as he looked at her askance, coldly saying, “I see you’re full of energy, not wanting to sleep anymore.”

“No! Not at all!”

Even Li Qing Rong, that little one, knew how to read the situation. Chu Qiao, a grown woman, naturally understood the implications.

Indeed, she quickly realized that all protests and escapes were unrealistic. So she obediently lay back in her original place and turned her back to Zhuge Yue, not making a sound, breathing evenly, as if she had truly fallen asleep.

All was quiet, everywhere was as black as thick ink. The rain seemed to have grown heavier, pitter-pattering on the boat planks, making crisp sounds.

A hand reached from behind, encircling her waist. The man’s breath warmed the back of her ear, sending tingles down her neck. He held her, tenderly kissing the edge of her ear, his tone low as he said, “Xing’er, I want to hold you like this every night from now on. Don’t always chase me away.”

Her heart suddenly softened, like a pool of clear water, light and floating.

It was hard to imagine that a man like him would speak to her in such a tone. She felt a bit of heartache and reached out to grasp his fingers. They were a bit cool. She gradually pulled them up, placed them against her lips, and kissed them gently.

The night was still so long, yet she had already fallen asleep, lying in his embrace. In her dreams, she seemed to see a clear sky, emerald lake waters, and green grasslands. A group of children in white dresses stood on the vast lawn, dancing and singing warmly:

Zhuge Yue, you are my sunshine, the sunlight I can never give up.

Sleeping in late was almost certain.

After a bout of forceful knocking on the door, she opened her eyes in alarm to see Zhuge Yue already fully dressed, standing by the window. In his hands was a light blue and cream-colored dress. He smiled and said, “Mei Xiang has called several times. If you don’t get up, she’ll rush in.”

Chu Qiao put on her clothes almost trembling, then inched her way to the door. She extended her hand, opening the door just a crack, and poked her head out, smiling foolishly: “Hehe, Mei Xiang, good morning.”

“Miss, it’s already noon. We’ll be docking soon.”

Mei Xiang stood at the door, imposingly with her hands on her hips. Jing Jing was holding Li Ce’s young son, trying hard to peek inside, suddenly very interested in Chu Qiao’s room. Little Rong stretched out his chubby hands, pinching Jing Jing’s cheeks, babbling something unintelligible.

“Oh, is it?” Chu Qiao laughed awkwardly, “Oh my, I’ve been so tired lately, I overslept. How strange, haha.”

“Yes, very strange indeed.” Jing Jing giggled from the side, looking like a mischievous little elf.

“Miss, why are you standing there? I’ve brought water for you to wash your face. Aren’t you going to freshen up?”

Chu Qiao grabbed the water bucket from the ground, declaring righteously, “I’ll do it myself.”

Mei Xiang frowned, “Miss, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine! I just see you’re very tired. You should go rest for a while.”

Mei Xiang, very dedicated to her duty, continued, “But I still need to tidy your room.”

“No need, no need. I’m feeling very energetic today. I can clean up myself.” Without waiting for Mei Xiang to say anything more, she took the water and went back into the room, shutting the door tightly. Then, like a thief, she pressed her ear against the door, listening carefully to the movements outside.

After waiting for Mei Xiang and Jing Jing to leave, Chu Qiao let out a long breath.

Zhuge Yue was lying sideways on the bed, looking very leisurely as he said, “Look at you, acting like a thief.”

Chu Qiao glared at him, stepped forward, and pulled his arm: “While no one’s around, hurry back to your room.”

“No.” Zhuge Yue flatly refused, “Not unless you help me wash my face.”

Chu Qiao’s face fell: “Why?”

“If you don’t, I won’t leave.”

“Zhuge Yue, you—”

Chu Qiao gritted her teeth for a long time, but finally walked to the basin, poured water, prepared the face towel, and then approached him, rolling up her sleeves. Her posture didn’t look like she was about to wash someone’s face, but rather like she was ready for a fight.

She squatted in front of him and scrubbed his face forcefully. He frowned slightly but said nothing, still smiling. Chu Qiao suddenly felt she couldn’t be so rough. She sighed, and her movements became gentler.

Sunlight streamed through the open window, shining on both of them. Time seemed to rewind more than ten years. Back to that courtyard at Qingshan Yuan, where she had to rise early every day, carrying a basin scented with aloeswood, serving him as he awoke, helping him wash his face, dress, put on shoes, eat, and drink tea.

“See, after all this effort, I’ve gone back to my old job.”

Chu Qiao pouted, looking dejected.

Zhuge Yue smiled and said, “As they say, heaven’s net is vast, though the meshes are wide, nothing escapes. You were born to be mine, you can’t run away.”

Chu Qiao glared at him and cursed, “What a terrible metaphor.”

After brushing teeth, rinsing mouth, and dressing properly.

Chu Qiao pushed Zhuge Yue’s arm, pushing him all the way to the door: “Hurry up, hurry up and leave!”

Zhuge Yue turned back, eyeing her: “You wicked woman. One night as husband and wife should mean a hundred days of affection, yet you turn your back on me the very next day!”

“Hurry up, hurry up! Go back to your room!”

“Young Master!”

A clear, cheerful voice suddenly came. Chu Qiao was so frightened that three of her seven souls left her body. She turned abruptly to see Yue Qi smiling by the window. Seeing her, he grinned and greeted her: “I went to the Young Master’s room this morning and found he wasn’t there, so I guessed the Young Master spent the night in Miss’s room.”

Ping An stood behind Yue Qi, and behind him there seemed to be many more people. They were too far away to hear clearly what he was saying, but faintly there came sounds of jubilation: “Sister has finally married, now we won’t have to listen to her nagging anymore.”

At this moment, the door creaked open, and Mei Xiang entered with Jing Jing and others. Seeing Zhuge Yue, she curtseyed first, very politely calling him “Fourth Young Master,” then walked toward Chu Qiao’s bed, presumably to tidy up.

Chu Qiao suddenly remembered the bloodstains on the bed that shouldn’t be seen. Just as she was about to stop her, Jing Jing brought over a bowl of soup and whispered in her ear: “Sister Mei Xiang specially ordered this to be prepared. It stops bleeding and replenishes energy. Sister, drink it quickly.”

Chu Qiao’s vision darkened, her cheeks flushing as though they might bleed.

Zhuge Yue walked over, took the medicinal bowl, and held it to Chu Qiao’s lips, his mouth curved in a slight smile: “Indeed a good thing. Xing’er, drink it quickly.”

That afternoon, the boat docked at Lanling Prefecture. After replenishing the food supplies onboard, they continued their journey. Two days later, they finally arrived at Hu County.

Everyone disembarked. Although they were now within Great Xia’s borders, Yue Qi and the others strengthened their guard around Zhuge Yue. As soon as they reached the ferry dock, there was a guard unit of about five hundred people waiting. All the female attendants changed into men’s clothing, mixing among the troops as they boarded carriages, being extremely secretive and careful.

Chu Qiao noticed that most of the men in Zhuge Yue’s guard unit had facial tattoos, and knew they were mostly criminals who had been exiled to Qinghai. This somewhat put her mind at ease.

Most of these men were descendants of criminals and didn’t have much sense of belonging to Western Liang. Moreover, having lived in the wilds of Qinghai for years, they were physically agile and utterly loyal to Zhuge Yue. With them around, Zhuge Yue’s safety wasn’t a concern.

When they reached Baolin Prefecture, three thousand Qinghai troops in gleaming armor stood guard. Among them, one thousand wore dark blue leather armor, looking fierce and imposing, exuding a sharp, killing aura. Their faces showed resilience and weathering, with bulging temples—all trained fighters.

Yue Qi proudly told her that these were his subordinates, the Seventh Division, the most elite force of Qinghai. This was only a small portion; most of the troops were currently stationed at Cuiwei Pass and Zhenhuang City.

That night, they rested in Baolin Prefecture. The next day, they set out for Zhenhuang, and by evening, they finally saw that majestic city.

The land stretched vast and desolate, withered and bleak. The wilderness rolled endlessly, with dried grass swaying in the wind.

It was still the weather of Great Xia, the wind of Great Xia, and the autumn coolness of Great Xia. Chu Qiao lifted the carriage curtain, gazing at the towering city gate ahead, the iron-red city walls glowing with a bloody, tragic color in the setting sun.

She vaguely recalled those youthful days when she and Yan Xun had depended on each other for survival in that huge cage, hating everything here, wishing for a flood to wash away all the splendor into ashes. They had exhausted themselves, fighting to the death to carve out a bloody path, breaking free from this fence that had confined them for eight years.

But today, she was willingly setting foot in this place again, walking through this suffocating city gate.

Six years ago, she had left this place for one man. Six years later, she returned for another.

The strange wonder of fate always lay in its countless turns. With each step taken, you never know what results await ahead. All you can do is continue walking forward.

Her fingertips felt cold, and the wind whistling by her ears made a moaning sound.

A hand suddenly reached from behind, embracing her.

Zhuge Yue’s voice sounded behind her ear, extremely light and gentle, with a calming quality.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Chu Qiao smiled slightly. He always seemed to say this. She leaned back into his embrace, taking a deep breath of his scent, then slowly closing her eyes.

She just held his hand, so tightly, as if she would never let go again.

Today’s Zhenhuang City has lost its former splendor and prosperity. Although night hadn’t fallen yet, there were very few people walking the streets. Upon seeing Zhuge Yue’s carriage, everyone made their way. It was nothing like the crowded scenes of the Lantern Festival years ago when people brushed shoulders as they moved about.

The carriage rounded Xuanhua Street, turned into Baiwei Road, and headed west through the city. Chu Qiao was slightly surprised and asked, “Aren’t we going back to the Zhuge residence?”

Zhuge Yue smiled: “I am now the Military Minister of Great Xia, so naturally I live in my own Minister’s mansion.”

Upon hearing this, Chu Qiao immediately felt relieved, unconsciously breaking into a smile.

Zhuge Yue laughed at her: “Displaying emotions so plainly—how does that match your title as the Elegant Princess?”

“What’s the point of pretending in front of you?”

Chu Qiao said naturally. Zhuge Yue paused slightly, then embraced her, praising: “Well said.”

With few people on the streets, the carriage moved faster. Before long, they arrived at the Minister’s mansion located by Bili Lake in the western part of the city.

Chu Qiao had seen this residence before. It was one of the royal family’s villas, built magnificent and imposing, dignified and substantial. The carriage didn’t stop but proceeded directly through the gates into the inner courtyard. After the soldiers had all dispersed, Chu Qiao followed Zhuge Yue out of the carriage.

At once, she saw Huan’er standing in the distance with reddened eyes. Upon seeing her, tears began to fall more profusely.

Though it was no longer the same courtyard as before, the people were still the same. Chu Qiao felt somewhat sorrowful and slightly extended her hand. Huan’er rushed over, lifting her skirt to kneel and pay respects.

Chu Qiao quickly reached out to help her up, but Zhuge Yue held her back, saying, “From now on, you are the mistress of this household. It’s only appropriate that they kowtow to you.”

With these words, all the maids and servants of the household dutifully kowtowed to her, saying, “We pay our respects to the Young Mistress.”

Chu Qiao helped Huan’er up. After many years apart, her appearance had changed somewhat. She had grown pretty and clever and had now become the head maid in Zhuge Yue’s household, managing over a hundred smaller maids.

Huan’er, wiping her tears, sobbed as she said, “This servant knew the Mistress would return sooner or later. The Mistress’s room has been prepared, kept for you all these years.”

Chu Qiao felt slightly embarrassed being addressed as “Mistress” repeatedly, but Zhuge Yue seemed completely at ease. He interjected from the side: “Leave that room empty. Move her things directly to my chambers.”

Everyone immediately understood. Huan’er quickly directed the maids to move Chu Qiao’s luggage. Mei Xiang and Jing Jing joined in as well, with everyone working enthusiastically.

“Come.”

Zhuge Yue whispered in her ear, then without further explanation, took her hand and walked forward.

Dusk had fallen, night stretching boundlessly. A crescent moon hung distantly in the sky, casting a faint, clear light. Lamps were lit on both sides, illuminating Zhuge Yue’s dark blue cloak. His hand was warm, and he walked silently. The wind blew from both sides, carrying the damp coldness of lake water, yet with the freshness of nightfall. The arrow patterns on his cuffs were densely woven, occasionally brushing against Chu Qiao’s white cape, making a rustling sound.

A very light fragrance enveloped them, not strong but omnipresent. It was a fine orchid scent, faintly mixed with the fragrance of pollia.

Zhuge Yue had always been a man who knew how to enjoy life. Perhaps it was the nobility in his bones, the accumulation of wealth over hundreds of years, that set these aristocratic families apart from ordinary nouveau riche. Almost every inch of soil, every plant, carried a certain rare elegance.

Pushing open the carved openwork door of Western Sea nanmu wood, what met her eyes was an elegant bedchamber. It wasn’t particularly sumptuous, but it was so exquisitely comfortable that even the most demanding person could find no fault. Soft, thick carpets covered the floor, giving a light, floating sensation when stepped upon. Writing desks, tea tables, antiques, and calligraphy paintings—the entire room was refined, with an unworldly simplicity. Eighteen white silk gauze curtains of silkworm silk were held by hooks shaped like purple-gold divine birds, extending to the inner chamber.

“Tired?”

He stood in front of her, looking down at her, asking softly.

Chu Qiao shook her head, holding her stomach and saying, “I’m just very hungry.”

A little maid in red clothing quickly said, “The meal will be ready soon. Would the Young Master and Mistress like to go to the dining hall now?”

Zhuge Yue shook his head and said to Chu Qiao, “I have matters to attend to and can’t accompany you for dinner.”

Chu Qiao nodded: “If you have a business, go ahead and take care of it.”

“They’re preparing the horse. Just wait a bit longer.”

Saying this, he embraced Chu Qiao. The cloud pattern embroidered on his chest lightly touched Chu Qiao’s face, tickling her slightly.

His voice came through his body, somewhat muffled: “Xing’er, you’ve finally come.”

Chu Qiao smiled, also embracing him, feeling an indescribable satisfaction in her heart. Her limbs felt lazy, and she didn’t want to speak.

The room was infused with fine fragrances, making one drowsy, wanting to close one’s eyes and sleep soundly.

“Tonight, wait for me here.”

Chu Qiao’s cheeks flushed slightly. She looked up and smiled at Zhuge Yue: “Then come back early.”

Chu Qiao nodded.

By now, the horse was ready. Zhuge Yue said, “I’m going to the Seventh Prince’s place. You eat first and rest early.”

“Mmm.” Chu Qiao stood on tiptoe and lightly pecked his lips, her cheeks red as she said, “Be careful on the road.”

A trace of joy flowed from Zhuge Yue’s eyes. He hugged Chu Qiao tightly, then turned and left.

Chu Qiao followed him to the door. The wind was strong, blowing her snow-white cape. She watched Zhuge Yue disappear into the thick night, smiling as she leaned against the doorframe.

In truth, Zhenhuang wasn’t as frightening as she had imagined.

From a distance came the exaggerated voices of Jing Jing and Ping An, though it wasn’t clear what had happened. They burst into laughter. Chu Qiao’s lips couldn’t help but curve upward. It was good here, really good.

After finishing dinner, she took a bath with the help of the maids.

Mei Xiang and the others were also exhausted from the journey. Little Rong needed constant attention, so Mei Xiang took two wet nurses to look after the child. The servants didn’t know and assumed it was Zhuge Yue and Chu Qiao’s child born outside, so they took extremely good care of him.

Zhuge Yue’s bathroom was very large, entirely built with white jade from Shentian, inlaid with hundreds of pearls. Just a single candle could illuminate the entire room as bright as day. The water was drawn from underground hot springs of Cangshan, mixed with flower dew, combined with imperial medicinal powder, exuding fragrance. The bottom of the pool was carved with large wild roses to prevent slipping, the epitome of luxury.

Huan’er said, that when the Emperor bestowed the mansion on Zhuge Yue, he came to look around first. After seeing it, he said, “When I leave, this house can be sold for a good price.”

Chu Qiao smiled slightly upon hearing this. It seemed the rumors about the bloodsucking Minister were true.

After bathing, dressed in a white silk robe, she returned barefoot to the bedchamber.

At first, Huan’er was somewhat awkward, but gradually seeing how approachable Chu Qiao was, she opened up, boldly calling her “Xing’er.” She repeatedly brought up Zhuge Yue’s trivial matters from the past few years, though she only spoke well of him. The main point was that Xing’er had wisely turned back to the right path and returned to their Young Master’s side—a move so wise that even the gods in heaven would envy her.

Chu Qiao smiled as she listened to how Zhuge Yue had kept himself pure all these years, how he had avoided women, how he had made those aristocratic ladies regret bitterly, watching and waiting in vain. She listened to how Zhuge Yue had missed her every day, how he had thought of her, how happy and excited he was whenever he received news or letters from her, how he couldn’t sleep at night, how he ate several more bowls of soup. She listened to how miserable Zhuge Yue had been in those earlier years, how he had been mistreated, how his health had been weak, and how he had no status within the family.

Gradually, the little maid began to cry, mumbling about Zhuge Yue’s goodness while tearfully saying that Xing’er must never leave the Young Master again, the Young Master truly liked her.

The room was filled with fine incense. Chu Qiao sat on the soft bed, listening to every past event, feeling as if the bygone years swept past her eyes like mountains and seas.

See, he liked her, the whole world knew it, even a maid could see it so clearly. Yet it had taken her so long, so many years, to understand this.

Soon, someone knocked lightly on the door. A servant came to report that the wife of General Yue Qi had arrived.

Huan’er quickly jumped up and ran out. Shortly after, a pretty woman with clear features entered, wearing a goose-yellow dress that looked simple and elegant. When she smiled, she had two small dimples. She was holding the hand of a child of about ten years old. Upon seeing Chu Qiao, she was about to kneel and pay her respects.

Chu Qiao quickly helped her up, smiling as she said, “I didn’t expect Yue Qi to be so lucky, marrying such a beautiful wife.”

Xiao Fei smiled slightly, revealing two cute little fangs, and said to the child, “Mo’er, quickly greet Mother.”

The child looked up at Chu Qiao, staring for a good while, then suddenly opened his arms and hugged Chu Qiao’s leg, shouting, “Sister, you’ve come to see me!”

Chu Qiao was startled. Looking down carefully, she saw the child was handsome and adorable, wearing a pine-green vest, his eyes bright and sparkling as he looked at her happily, calling out, “Sister, don’t you recognize me? I’m Mo’er!”

Chu Qiao suddenly remembered—this was Ouyang Mo, whom she and Zhuge Yue had taken in on their way to the Tang capital. In a flash, more than six years had passed, and the little one had grown so big.

She quickly hugged the child, exclaiming with delight, “Mo’er has grown so tall, I almost didn’t recognize him.”

Mo’er hugged her affectionately and said, “Where did Sister go? So many years without coming to see me? If not for Father mentioning you often, Mo’er would have forgotten Sister.”

“Father?”

Chu Qiao frowned, looking questioningly at the two beside her.

Xiao Fei quickly said to the child, “Don’t call her that. Call her Mother.”

Mo’er looked at Chu Qiao and asked, “Sister, have you married my father?”

“Who is your father?”

“My father is the Military Minister of Great Xia. Sister, don’t you recognize him?”

Huan’er quickly explained from the side, “The Young Master adopted Young Master Mo as his son after returning.”

Chu Qiao finally understood. After chatting with Mo’er and Xiao Fei for a while, she learned that Xiao Fei had already given birth to two children for Yue Qi. This woman’s personality was completely different from Yue Qi’s—she always seemed shy, blushing after saying a few words, which was particularly endearing.

Since Chu Qiao had just returned to the mansion today, they didn’t stay long. After chatting for a while, Xiao Fei took Mo’er away. Before leaving, Mo’er repeatedly made Chu Qiao promise to visit him, as if afraid she would leave again once he turned away.

After everyone had left, Zhuge Yue still hadn’t returned. Chu Qiao was somewhat tired, so she dismissed the servants and went to bed.

Chu Qiao’s health had not been good these past few years, and after traveling for days, she was mentally fatigued.

The bed was warm and soft. Chu Qiao lay down, closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she vaguely felt someone kissing her. Stubbornly refusing to wake up, she made a lazy murmur and burrowed deeper into the bed.

A cold arm suddenly embraced her, warm breath on her ear, seemingly chuckling softly.

Her neck felt ticklish. She frowned and opened her eyes to see Zhuge Yue wearing a light purple nightgown, lying on his side on the bed. His bright black eyes fixed on her as he smiled and said, “With this level of vigilance, being taken advantage of without even knowing—is this still the Xing’er I know?”

Chu Qiao smiled, reaching out to encircle his neck, saying, “There’s a little thief with such good skills, coming and going without a trace. I can’t catch even a glimpse of him.”

Zhuge Yue chuckled softly, lowered his head to kiss her, and asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“Not bad.”

Chu Qiao leaned in his embrace, playfully saying, “If you hadn’t come back, I would have slept even better.”

Zhuge Yue laughed and scolded, “Three days without discipline, and you’re already causing trouble. It seems I need to give you a taste of household discipline.”

Saying this, he raised his hand. Chu Qiao was so frightened that she immediately closed her eyes, but after waiting for a while, the so-called discipline never came down. She opened her eyes to see Zhuge Yue looking at her leisurely, and couldn’t help asking, “Weren’t you going to enforce discipline? Why aren’t you doing it?”

Zhuge Yue embraced her, lowering his head to kiss her neck. His arm moved slightly, untying the silk ribbon at her waist. Her clothes slid down her shoulders, revealing snow-white skin.

Zhuge Yue’s arms tightened slightly, his body slowly covering hers as he said in a deep voice, “How could I bear to?”

On the twin-crane, flower-holding, twisted-branch candlestick, a pair of red candles burned quietly. Red lanterns covered the candles, with only a faint red glow seeping through.

The long night was silent. Chu Qiao’s first night back in Zhenhuang City slowly passed in such warm intimacy.