It turned out he had never truly forgotten, only been too busy to think about it, or perhaps only forced himself not to think, afraid that remembering would bring pain like any ordinary mortal.

Even the longest road has an end. With one turn, Qing Xia’s figure could no longer be seen. Qi’an turned around, slightly closed his eyes, and gently clapped his hands. The sound was light, but in the empty corridor, it seemed so clear. In a short while, the attendants who had withdrawn earlier formed a long line and returned. A trusted aide stepped forward and asked softly: “Your Highness, should this subordinate have someone investigate where Princess Minrui just went?”

Qi’an slightly shook his head. After a long time, the man with closed eyes opened them again. He was still his usual self – composed, calm, and cold, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. There was no longer any trace of the dazed expression he’d had when watching Qing Xia leave.

She was right. He was destined to walk atop ten thousand mountains. Though he could look down upon all living beings, one careless step would shatter him to pieces. So he had to be very careful – he could only win, never lose.

“Return to the palace.”

The cold voice said lightly. The man in bright yellow robes walked at the front, his gaze tenacious and eyes sharp. Two rows of palace lanterns shone on his face with golden light.

The night was deep and the path ahead difficult. No one could be trusted or relied upon, so he could only be careful himself.

This was a world where demons and monsters ran rampant. Who could say with certainty who was right and who was wrong? The victors write history – what gets recorded in the annals are forever the words of the winners.

One day, one day…

After walking for a full hour, she finally reached Zijin Square. Just by looking at Qing Xia’s clothing and attire, the palace guards could determine her status and rank, so no one stopped her along the way. When Qin Zhiyan was gravely ill, Qing Xia had forced her way through Zijin Gate several times, and the gate guards already recognized her. The great Zijin Gate rumbled open, and under the cold moonlight, Zijin Square was completely empty with all the carriages already departed.

Directly facing the gate, only one blue cloth carriage sat there alone. Two white purebred horses from the Western Regions leaned affectionately against each other in an intimate manner. The coachman saw Qing Xia and excitedly called out. Qin Zhiyan, in white robes, stood beside the carriage with white clothes and black hair, like a still landscape painting, looking at Qing Xia with gentle eyes and a slight smile that instantly dazzled her eyes.

She smiled warmly at the corners of her mouth, lifted the hem of her skirt, and ran over quickly, throwing herself into Qin Zhiyan’s arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, immediately feeling the warmth of coming home.

“Are you tired?” Qin Zhiyan held a jade-green cloak in his hands. He gently draped it over Qing Xia’s back and said softly.

Qing Xia shook her head, giving the same answer as always: “I’m sleepy.”

“Then sleep,” Qin Zhiyan adjusted the collar of her clothing and said with a smile: “Don’t wake up even when we get home. I’ll carry you in.”

“Mm.” Qing Xia nodded and let Qin Zhiyan lift her horizontally and board the carriage, lowering the blue curtain. Everything was filled with the warm scent of fritillaria. Her head suddenly felt very dizzy, as if she’d been frozen from the wind. She drowsily leaned against Qin Zhiyan’s chest, not wanting to say anything or look at anything, only wanting to sleep peacefully like this.

She hadn’t lied – she really was very tired and wanted to sleep.

In a corner tower of the inner palace, a man in black robes stood alone high up. Under the night sky, the view here was truly excellent – open on all four sides with wind from eight directions. His expression unchanged, he watched the blue cloth carriage gradually departing from Zijin Square. His fingers lightly plucked, and an ancient zither immediately produced clear, distant, melodious sounds.

Among Southern Chu’s subjects, few knew that their brilliant and strategically gifted emperor was also an outstanding talent in poetry and literature, proficient in musical rhythm.

Back when he was in Eastern Qi, to disguise himself, he had also lingered in places of wine, flowers, snow, and moon, playing the part of a dissolute young master who composed poetry, matched couplets, admired flowers, and made music. Those bygone years had fluttered away like butterflies. Now he had finally emerged from hardship to sweetness, obtaining everything he had once wanted. But why did his heart suddenly feel empty?

Night was truly a wonderful thing. In the deep darkness without lamplight, it could conceal so many thoughts and ideas. Only at times like this could he indulge himself by standing here, gazing at that departing carriage.

Tomorrow, the Chu Emperor would still be the Chu Emperor, Prince Xuan would still be Prince Xuan, Prince Qi would still be Prince Qi, but Zhuang Qingxia would no longer be Zhuang Qingxia.

At tonight’s banquet, to silence the murmurs of people throughout the land, the Qin King wanted to advance Prince Xuan’s wedding ceremony. Tomorrow would be the day of formal proposal.

Finally, he still had to let go gracefully. Even the last bit of hope had been torn apart and burned by his own hands. It seemed everything had truly reached its end. Chu Li slightly raised his head as strong winds surged in from all directions, blowing against his robes. The black robe fluttered and flew, his full head of black hair streaming in the wind. A series of resonant melodies flowed from beneath his fingers like thousands of troops and horses charging forth.

This night, except for Qing Xia, no one could sleep peacefully.

Tomorrow would be the wedding ceremony of Great Qin’s war god Qin Zhiyan. The woman he was marrying was the peerless beauty who had once caused the three nations of Southern Chu, Eastern Qi, and Northern Qin to wage war – she who had been Eastern Qi’s crown princess, then Southern Chu’s Consort Lan, then served as Western Chuan’s female general with first-rank princess salary, was revered as rightful lord by the mysterious Qingpeng Seven Tribes, and was enfeoffed by Northern Qin’s emperor as Princess Minrui with the same treatment as General Feilian. Zhuang Qingxia, daughter of the great scholar Zhuang Dianru of the Paper Manufacturing Bureau, would once again flash with brilliant light between heaven and earth, leaping into everyone’s field of vision.

In the lands of Northern Qin, strong winds rolled backward and all grasses swayed. In the darkness, countless pairs of eyes were fixed on tomorrow’s proposal ceremony. In the darkness, too many people gazed eastward at the sun, quietly awaiting dawn.

Great Qin favored black. Even the ceremonial robes used for weddings were black with embroidered clusters of red flowers, appearing both festively joyous and maintaining imperial dignity and gravitas.

Black agate and deep-sea pearls adorned the gold, making the phoenix crown heavy and noble. Reflecting the morning sunlight, it had brilliant radiance. Qing Xia’s slender, white, tender fingers traced bit by bit over those brocade wedding robes, golden phoenix crown, colorful phoenix embroidered shoes, pearls and jade, and jeweled ornaments, as if looking at a pile of things that didn’t belong to her.

Waking from sleep, things had taken an unexpected turn for the better. This was the day she had dreamed of and longed for, but when this day truly arrived, she suddenly felt dizzy and panicked. It wasn’t unwillingness, nor was there any hesitation – everything had just come too quickly, so fast that she felt somewhat unprepared. She stared blankly at those things, seeming at a loss for where to begin.

The sun gradually rose. The morning sunlight, carrying spring’s warmth, shone through the window onto her bed. Outside the window, birds chirped crisply and pleasantly, with sounds that made one’s heart feel joyful. Everything seemed fresh and beautiful.

Finally, she was going to marry!

The slender woman smiled slightly. Not in the 21st century, without relatives, without family, without a beautiful wedding dress, without champagne, cake, or roses – but she was still going to marry. From now on, she would have a home, a husband, and in the future, a child. Everything was so wonderfully magical. Crossing a thousand years of time and space, spanning the barriers of time, she was finally going to marry a man she deeply loved in this place that didn’t belong to her.

This was good, really good. Her power was only so great – she couldn’t make everyone happy, so allow her to be selfish just this once.

Once today passed, everything would be fine. They would each embark on paths with no turning back, never again intersecting, never again entangled, and never again having reason to long for each other.

Qing Xia smiled and stood up, putting on the wedding robes piece by piece, as if commemorating some past while wrapping herself layer by layer.

A red bodice embroidered with auspicious baby patterns clung to her lower abdomen, carrying the fortunate meaning of bearing noble children early. A bright red outer shirt and jacket with short sleeves, the two fronts embroidered with tiny “fortune” characters in golden thread. Around the waist were openwork dyed flowers that looked both beautiful and sensual. A black robe embroidered with red chrysanthemums had open shoulders and wide collar, revealing her snow-white neck and collarbones. The waist was tightly cinched with a black sash, further emphasizing her upright chest. The robe’s hem flowed like a long skirt, with a dark red underskirt beneath. The tips of her colorful phoenix embroidered shoes hung with bright eastern pearls that sparkled dazzlingly, magnificent and beautiful.

According to Great Qin custom, the bride had to dress herself, signifying that after marrying, she would serve her husband well without being lazy or arrogant from favor. After about an hour, Qing Xia had finally put on all her clothing. The room door creaked open slowly, and a woman in black robes with red flowers stood gracefully at the doorway. Her waist was so slender it could barely be grasped, her long legs elegant and beautiful, her neck snow-white, her eyebrows and eyes like a painting – her entire being like an otherworldly fairy.

Qin Zhiyan waited outside the door with a crowd of the prince’s residence stewards and servants behind him. The long wait had finally caused this usually calm and composed man’s face to lose its characteristic composure. Many chaotic thoughts finally dissipated the moment he saw Qing Xia. He couldn’t help but smile at the corners of his mouth, looking at Qing Xia and laughing happily like a simple child.

“Do I look good?” Qing Xia smiled happily and asked lightly.

Qin Zhiyan nodded and said with a smile: “Very beautiful. Yima’er is the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

A gentle breeze blew, stirring Qing Xia’s full head of black hair, scattered and flowing like the wings of butterflies filling the sky.

According to local custom, on the day of formal proposal, the groom should personally go to the bride’s family home to receive the bride, and the bride’s long hair should be arranged by her mother. But Qing Xia had no relatives here, and with Zhuang Dianru’s death, she had become truly alone. So the Qin King arranged for Qing Xia to enter the palace today, and in the evening, Qin Zhiyan would take her back to the prince’s residence.