Near the cold winter, the daylight in Guocheng had shortened, and before the hour of You, the sunlight had already diminished to mere traces.

Eunuch Gao stood at the entrance of the residence, watching Minister Zhou Tinghe’s carriage disappear into the distance.

Minister Zhou was a clever man who understood the art of advancing and retreating. First, he had used Concubine Ruo’s mouth to inform the Emperor about his marriage arrangements, and now he was leaving early to avoid becoming a thorn in the Emperor’s eye. The Zhou clan made their living as officials, with their fortunes and lives entirely dependent on the Emperor’s whim. If the Emperor truly became suspicious of Zhou Tinghe, the Zhou family would know no peace.

It was good that he left.

Only after the carriage shadow was completely out of sight did Eunuch Gao turn and return to the courtyard.

Half an hour later, the Emperor and Concubine Ruo returned.

Eunuch Gao saw that Concubine Ruo had gone back to her room first, then he reported to the Emperor: “Earlier, Minister Zhou heard that the court had sent new officials to Diecheng to take up posts, so he went ahead with the tea caravan to Diecheng, saying that when the new officials arrive, he could meet them in advance.”

The Emperor nodded, indicating he understood.

Eunuch Gao was about to report on the arrangements for the evening meal when he heard the Emperor change the subject: “I have several urgent matters that you must handle quickly.”

What urgent matters could there be in Guocheng? Could it be some important confidential affair?

Eunuch Gao took a small step forward, assuming a posture of attentive listening: “Your Majesty has only to command.”

*

Gu Yi entered the side room, first removing her cloak, then taking off the white fur scarf, carefully folding it and placing it by the couch before walking to the charcoal basin to sit and warm her feet, letting out another sigh.

Her carefully devised perfect plan had now been completely ruined.

Ah.

However, she still harbored some hope. All the imperial plot points had been completed, and since the Danta had already submitted, perhaps this time she could safely pass the finish line. Once past the fifteenth of October, it would be a brand new life, one she could control herself.

But what if…

What Gu Yi feared was precisely this “what if.” What if it didn’t work out? Would she let Xiaoyan watch her die once again…

That would be too cruel…

She would rather find a place with no one around and quietly pass through the fifteenth of October, for better or worse, all on her own.

If it turned out well, naturally, everyone would be happy.

If it turned out badly, she still hoped that the copied manuscript in Gu Zhao’s hands could leave Xiaoyan with something to remember her by. Putting herself in his shoes, she would rather the person she loved stayed alive, even if not by her side. Just knowing they were alive would be enough.

Ah.

Gu Yi sighed again, holding her hands over the charcoal basin, rubbing them together, her mind in disarray as she thought about her worries, constantly anxious and restless.

During the evening meal, despite Gu Yi forcing a smile, Xiaoyan could still sense her agitation. Since arriving in Guocheng, though Gu Yi smiled at everyone she met, when alone, she would occasionally stare blankly, lost in heavy thoughts.

After the meal, Xiaoyan suggested: “We’ll go to Tiger Hill early tomorrow morning, so let’s retire early tonight.”

After the hour Xu had passed halfway, they both washed up and settled into bed.

Gu Yi had been lying with her eyes closed, lost in thought, but after a while, perhaps due to the fatigue of going out, she truly fell asleep.

Xiaoyan had no sleepiness at all and lay motionless on the bed, listening to Gu Yi’s gentle breathing.

The doubts in his heart grew stronger; the more he observed Gu Yi’s condition, the more certain he became.

In his dreams, the first three lifetimes had all abruptly ended on the day of the Empress’s investiture ceremony.

The Empress’s investiture ceremony was on the fifteenth day of the tenth month in the third year of Yonghe, just two days from now.

Could this be why Gu Yi was so eager to avoid him?

Thinking carefully, whether in past lives or the current one, Gu Yi always seemed to deliberately match him with Zhao Wan.

Xiaoyan turned over gently and slowly, gazing at her features.

Her eyebrows and lashes were like bows; at a glance, she seemed to always be smiling, opposite to him.

He raised his head, intending to touch her brow and eyes, but saw Gu Yi’s brows furrow slightly, her nose wrinkling along with them.

He quickly withdrew his hand guiltily, but Gu Yi didn’t wake up, only her long eyelashes trembled lightly, as if she were dreaming.

It didn’t seem like a good dream.

Gu Yi’s brows furrowed more and more tightly, her lips moved, and she murmured.

“Dog…”

Dog?

Xiaoyan moved closer.

Gu Yi’s breathing gradually quickened, her eyes tightly closed, still in the dream.

“I don’t…” she struggled to say.

Was she dreaming of being chased by a dog?

Xiaoyan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, when suddenly he heard Gu Yi say with a crying tone: “No… don’t want to die…”

Xiaoyan’s smile froze on his face, his chest feeling as if someone had firmly yanked it, his breath and heartbeat both stopping for a moment.

In her sleep, Gu Yi’s eyes reddened at the corners, and she gradually quieted down.

Xiaoyan dared not wake her abruptly. Seeing her chest rise and fall several times, her breathing becoming gentle again, he leaned down and softly kissed the corner of her eye.

*

Gu Yi had a night full of bizarre nightmares, and after waking up, they were still vivid in her mind. As the saying goes, what one thinks of during the day appears in dreams at night. Last night she had dreamed of her 108 different ways of dying.

If she wasn’t struck dead by lightning, she was trampled to death by galloping horses. The most outlandish one was being chased by an elephant that had appeared out of nowhere.

She was truly exhausted in the dream, and even after waking, she felt as tired as if she hadn’t slept at all. She gave a small yawn, turned her head, and saw Xiaoyan staring at her intently.

The morning light outside the window was dim; it was not yet fully bright.

These two days, Xiaoyan had always woken up earlier than her. Even without attending court, he was probably accustomed to rising at the hour of Mao.

“What time did Your Majesty wake up?”

Xiaoyan smiled, his face still showing traces of weariness.

“Just a moment before you,” he said, touching her warm cheek. “It’s past the hour of Chen now, we should get up. From here to Tiger Hill, it will take about an hour.”

Gu Yi nodded and nimbly got out of bed.

After they finished breakfast, it was three-quarters past the hour of Chen.

When Gu Yi arrived at the entrance of the residence, she saw a blue cloth carriage pulled by four tall horses, and asked with confusion: “Are we not riding horses today?”

Xiaoyan smiled and said: “After months of riding, I thought you might be tired. Today we’ll travel by carriage.”

Eunuch Gao seized the opportunity to say: “Concubine Ruo, this carriage has a small copper stove with charcoal balls, and the floor is covered with soft cushions. It’s quite warm, much more comfortable than riding a horse and facing the wind.”

Riding a horse was no longer an option.

Gu Yi stepped onto the small stool and entered the carriage, which, as Eunuch Gao had said, was arranged with extreme care. The space was quite spacious, with a low sandalwood table in the middle. On the table, besides a bamboo stove warming a teapot and two jade teacups, there was also a small round white porcelain jar.

She lifted the lid to look, and the aroma of vinegar wafted out—inside were pickled green plums.

After Xiaoyan boarded the carriage, he removed his black fur, crossed his legs, and sat at the table facing her.

“If you feel unwell, eat a plum first.”

Gu Yi shook her head: “After months of travel, your servant has become accustomed to riding in carriages.”

Xiaoyan lightly tapped his fingers on the low table: “The journey still requires some time. Why doesn’t Concubine Ruo tell me about what happened over these past months?”

Gu Yi had been waiting for him to ask. She had expected him to inquire in detail once they reached Guocheng, but hadn’t anticipated waiting until today.

She had already rehearsed her story multiple times, picking and choosing from the events of the past few months—how she had traveled north from Da Mu with Hamu’er and his party, how she had escaped on the way to the capital, and fortunately met Batuo Ye’s family, traveling south to Guocheng with the horse caravan.

In her narration, she inevitably mentioned Zhao Wan.

After finishing her account, Gu Yi’s mouth was dry. After taking a sip of tea, she asked Xiaoyan: “Where is Consort Zhao now?”

Xiaoyan looked at her with knitted brows, not answering but asking instead: “Concubine Ruo still constantly thinks of Consort Zhao. Could it be that during the Southern Garden archery, you risked your life to save her for this reason?”

Gu Yi smiled slightly, momentarily speechless.

Fortunately, Xiaoyan did not dwell on this. “You did very well,” he sighed slowly. “If Hamu’er had not been poisoned and had remained by Crown Prince Nahuer’s side, commanding the flying hawks, the capital would not have fallen so easily.”

Gu Yi’s face flushed: “Your servant dares not claim credit.”

“Were you afraid at that time?”

Gu Yi first shook her head and then nodded.

“At first I wasn’t afraid, but later I became somewhat fearful,” she admitted honestly. “I was afraid that if Hamu’er died, Your Majesty would blame your servant.”

Xiaoyan picked up the teapot, poured himself a cup, and then added fresh tea to her cup.

“I would not blame you. Even if you had killed Hamu’er, I would not blame you.”

Gu Yi was stunned for a moment, then nodded, seeing Xiaoyan gazing at her with deep, meaningful eyes.

Her face flushed again, and she pretended to casually turn to the side, lifting the carriage curtain to see a majestic mountain in the distance. The forest was filled with tall trees stretching straight into the clouds, remaining lush and green despite the north wind.

Tiger Hill had arrived.

After the carriage stopped, the driver lifted the curtain from outside. The sun had come out.

Xiaoyan stepped down from the carriage first, stopping at the side of the carriage shaft.

Gu Yi stood up, about to descend: “Your Majesty…”

Xiaoyan turned to look at her and said: “I will carry you up the mountain on my back.”

Gu Yi was startled and looked up to see only a winding, twisting stone path among the steep forest.

“Your servant is wearing leather boots and can climb the mountain herself.”

Xiaoyan remained motionless, insisting: “Come up.”

Gu Yi obediently climbed onto his back. The mountain was so high that climbing up would be tiring.

Since there were no horses today, she probably had no plan to escape.

She lay listlessly on Xiaoyan’s back, thinking.

After Xiaoyan took a few steps, an attendant draped his black fur over Gu Yi.

The familiar scent of pine and cypress surrounded her nostrils, and a sense of both joy and melancholy that seemed somehow familiar surged in her heart.

Gu Yi’s heart began to beat faster, and her cheek pressed against his neck grew increasingly warm.

She couldn’t help but ask: “Why does Your Majesty want to carry your servant up the mountain today?”

That time on West Mountain was because it had snowed and she had injured her foot. Today the weather was clear, and she was in good health, so why?

Xiaoyan smiled and said: “Perhaps… because I am a porter…”

Gu Yi’s heart skipped half a beat, and a vague thought flashed through her mind, too quickly for her to grasp.

She immediately leaned forward to observe Xiaoyan’s face and saw that he was smiling as if merely joking casually.

He glanced at her sideways and asked: “Does my dear one remember where we first met?”

Gu Yi felt increasingly strange in her heart and cautiously probed: “It was by the lake in the Imperial Garden when we first met.”

Xiaoyan nodded slightly: “Yes.”

No, it wasn’t.

Gu Yi thought to herself.

She was overthinking things.

She pressed her face tightly against Xiaoyan’s neck again, remaining silent.

The forest vegetation released the early morning scent of earth, and sunlight shot through the layers of trees, creating scattered patches of light on the ground. Though there was no warmth, Gu Yi on his back felt like a warm stove.

Hearing her sigh softly by his ear, Xiaoyan’s lips curled up slightly, and he said slowly: “When General Yu first taught me to raise hawks, he told me that if a falconer raises his hawk well, they become inseparable, and even in times of danger, the hawk will not abandon its master. There is only one circumstance when it will leave the falconer.”

This was the first time Gu Yi had heard him speak of raising hawks, and she found it quite novel, quickly asking: “When is that?”

“When the hawk senses its impending death, it will fly away from the nest of its own accord, seeking a secluded place to die alone, unwilling to let the falconer witness its death and grieve for it.”

Gu Yi was stunned for a moment, her eyes growing hot as tears unconsciously rolled down.

She took a deep breath, trying to hold back her tears, her mind blank, not knowing what she should say.

Did Xiaoyan know? How did he know? When did he find out?

And he’s indirectly comparing me to a bird?

As she thought about it, her tears continued to roll down her cheeks like pearls.

Noticing that Gu Yi had begun to tremble slightly, Xiaoyan reached around to hoist her up a bit, patting her gently.

“If that’s the case, can my dear one tell me now, who exactly are you?”

“Your servant…” Gu Yi’s throat choked, and she instantly lost her voice.

In a flash of insight, she finally remembered that she had indeed told Xiaoyan she loved him—it was in Fuzhou, when she had said “your servant loves only Your Majesty” or something similar. And the term “dear one,” though unremarkable at first hearing, upon careful reflection, seemed to be something only the Xiaoyan from the previous timeline had called her.

Thinking of this, along with the vinegar-pickled green plums in the carriage and him carrying her up the mountain—all of these were Xiaoyan’s ways of reminding her…

Had he remembered everything?

How did he remember?

When did he remember?

Gu Yi’s mind was a jumble of thoughts, completely chaotic.

She couldn’t help but bury her head, crying even more fiercely.

Xiaoyan heard her gasping for breath, turned to look, and saw her with her head buried on his shoulder, her whole body trembling, crying as if the world were ending.

He patted her and boldly guessed: “Whether in past lives or the present one, you repeatedly tried to match me with Zhao Wan, showing neither jealousy nor resentment. You clearly remember past events and seem to know things before they happen. Could it be… You are the Matchmaker from heaven?” Although he had never believed in supernatural forces, besides this, he couldn’t think of any other gods or spirits.

What Matchmaker!

Gu Yi raised her head indignantly upon hearing this: “Of course, your servant is jealous. Your servant doesn’t like Zhao Wan; your servant is not a saint. I only wish Your Majesty would love me alone. This time I saved Zhao Wan…” She sniffled, “just to make her feel guilty, so she would never forget me. Even if I died, she would feel guilty for a lifetime. I hope… I hope…”

Xiaoyan pressed: “Hope what? Hope that she couldn’t become Empress?”

Though she didn’t know how he had remembered, Gu Yi no longer concealed anything and simply nodded: “Exactly! I hope she would feel so guilty that she wouldn’t become Empress, or if she did become Empress, she wouldn’t be happy about it. Your servant is just that petty! Your servant is certainly not any Matchmaker!”

Xiaoyan laughed loudly several times, and Gu Yi, lying on his back, felt his chest vibrate.

She finally stopped crying with occasional hiccups and repeatedly asked: “When did Your Majesty remember? How did you remember? Do you remember everything?”

This situation should count as the protagonist’s awakening, right?

“I remembered when I was in Diecheng,” he answered.

“Then why did Your Majesty say we first met by the lake?” she asked, dissatisfied. “It was clearly on the stone path behind the Vermilion Bird Gate corridor.”

Xiaoyan’s shoulders dropped slightly: “I saw your corpse by the lake after you drowned.”

He did remember everything!

Gu Yi was shocked into speechlessness.

Xiaoyan glanced sideways at her, seeing her almond eyes wide open, her face still marked with several tear trails, looking particularly pitiful.

“Why is my dear one so eager to escape from me?”