If Tian Qi hadn’t rushed over, perhaps Mingcheng would have been dragged to death while Jing Hengbo was having her breakdown.

Though now she looked like a pile of mangled flesh, unable even to make screaming sounds. Tian Qi stood to the side in shock, looking at the blood-covered Jing Hengbo. At first he thought it was Mingcheng’s splattered blood, then realized it was Jing Hengbo’s own. He rushed up to help bandage Jing Hengbo’s wounds, but she pushed him away.

“Find the most secure place to imprison this pair of adulterous lovers,” she said wearily. “Question them later.”

“Where are you going?” Tian Qi asked, grabbing one person in each hand, watching Jing Hengbo’s retreating figure.

Jing Hengbo didn’t answer, walking slowly forward along the road.

Though already in despair, she still held the last thread of hope in her heart. If she walked through all of Dige, might she be able to find him?

At this moment Dige was empty and desolate. The common people hid in their houses in panic, listening to the thunderous sounds from the distant city gates. The sounds of armor and weapons clashing never ceased—all the forces defending Dige were rushing to the gates.

She walked through Dige’s Wuming Platform Square.

Here, ten li of red carpet had once welcomed the Queen. At the end of that red carpet awaited a series of difficulties for her. Here he had first publicly extended his hand, with acknowledgment and respectful gesture, helping her walk that most difficult path.

This was the beginning he gave her, and from start to finish, his heart never changed.

She walked through the formerly bustling Nine Palaces Street, stopping at a small well at the road’s end. She had once brought Zirui there, stunning Dige in a Bohemian long dress. That day she saw him mistake Zirui for someone else, that day she confronted him directly for the first time, that day she first questioned the Queen’s authority, and thus saw tempestuous waves in his eyes—so many unspoken thoughts.

Perhaps all the paths afterward, all the choices afterward, began from that day. When she needed freedom and power to protect herself and those she cared about, he had no choice but to let go, releasing her to vast skies and seas, lying dormant to accumulate strength, returning triumphantly.

She walked through Liuli Quarter, the center of Nine Palaces Street and the most prosperous area of all Dige. Looking at those layered towers and bustling streets, she suddenly saw flashing images of galloping burning carriages.

Those burning carriages set ablaze by the Sang family—she had exhausted all effort to stop eight of them, failing at the last one. Not only did it harm countless lives, it directly caused the death of the Kanglong Army Commander’s son.

That day at Liuli Street intersection, flames and black smoke danced together, screams and weeping were heard together. That day Cheng Gumo shouted madly in the street, that day Gong Yin personally ran over and stood before her.

“Who are you going to save!”

“Stand aside! Who gave you permission to touch the Queen!”

“State Preceptor! Are you really destroying the dogs after the rabbits are caught!”

“I bear no weapons, set no guards, facing you all. Think clearly—do you want to charge forward! Remember, take responsibility for every step you take!”

The waters of Jade Belt River rippled, reflecting that moment of blood, fire, and protection. She stood behind him, he stood before ten thousand troops, at the center of hostility and anger.

…

She walked through West Song Quarter, where Dige’s nobles and ministers lived in clusters, very close to the Imperial Plaza and Yuzhao Palace. She had once clashed with Personnel Minister Zhao Shizhi here while rescuing Zirui.

She stood before those high walls, looking at the deep vermillion gates and a white stone path winding outward.

This stone path had once surged with Dige Bureau officials and Kanglong Army troops, surged with countless servants and guards of Zhao Shizhi. The crime of killing Minister Zhao’s wife suddenly fell upon her. She wanted to defend herself but already knew she was trapped.

In the heavy encirclement, again it was that person who came in a soft sedan chair, with light words and deep schemes. Those who scheme against others are schemed against, those who trap others trap themselves. One move to lure the enemy resolved her crisis, not hesitating to cut off his own arm, leaving himself with hidden troubles.

Now, stepping across the white stone path, she suddenly remembered that day he had changed his usual style, coming by soft sedan, his movements like wind over duckweed, unwilling to let her see his face.

Now with circumstances changed, she suddenly recalled some details buried in memory.

She remembered the sedan curtain lifting, a startling glimpse of his pale face.

She remembered later in the sedan when she took the initiative to kiss him, actually causing him to react impulsively. She remembered in her panic she had pushed back forcefully, actually making him hit the sedan’s backrest. She remembered his face had paused slightly against the brocade backrest, she remembered his curved lip corners with faint smile, his profile beautiful as sculpture in the light and shadow, while rich, slightly sweet fragrance arose all around.

She remembered after alighting the sedan that day, seeing a trace of faint red on the back of his clothing, which was then covered by the cloak Meng Hu handed over.

At the time she thought it was paint from the backrest, but now remembering, it was like thunder sweeping through her heart—could that have been blood?

He lowered the sedan curtain because he didn’t want people to see his pale weakness. His sudden forceful advance was actually so she would push him away. When he hit the backrest, that pause was to wipe blood traces from his lip corners on the brocade backrest. The backrest was stained with blood, so when he leaned against it again, his clothing was inadvertently stained with blood.

This scene from the past suddenly connected today. She slowly crouched at the end of the white stone path, supporting her forehead.

She had countless times been narcissistically pleased with her carefree and casual nature. Until today, she suddenly hated her casual carelessness.

What he wanted to carefully conceal was most important—the real suffering that even now he was unwilling to tell her, and which had influenced his final choice. Why hadn’t she noticed then? Why hadn’t she cared?

After a long while she slowly stood and walked forward. Ahead, the alley was deep with green tiles and white walls. Several bamboo stalks made the wall tops green, casting patches of thick and light shadows.

She stood for a long time without approaching.

That was the photography studio she had never managed to establish. There she had used a photo of Gong Yin to deceive Tian Qi into coming. There she had Tian Qi go protect Gong Yin, but in the end Tian Qi stayed by her side.

Now, without needing to ask, she already understood—he had refused Tian Qi’s protection, leaving the master by her side.

Those most detailed arrangements—he was always silent behind the scenes, not wanting her to know.

The photography studio’s sign still remained. She gazed at those ink characters for a long time.

“Instant.”

As if a prophecy fulfilled, or perhaps there were hints in the unseen, the most beautiful time between her and him was only an instant.

Past West Song Quarter was Imperial Plaza. The founding Empress’s statue still stood as before, gaze downcast, forever looking down at Dahuang’s land.

That day when Sang Dong held her hostage, riding the fire carriage into the plaza.

That day between life and death in an instant, her life fell into another’s hands, used to force him to kill himself.

That day before the plaza gates, in splashing ice and snow the false severed head flew, letting her finally know the taste of heartbreak, finally know where her heart belonged.

That day after the palace gates, passionate kissing, she stepped barefoot onto his snow-white boots.

That day she said to him: “Gong Yin, Gong Yin, let’s reform new Dahuang together, okay? Let’s create a new world together, okay? Let’s be the happiest Queen and State Preceptor in Dahuang history, okay? I believe you can do it, I can do it too, and I only want to do these things with you. Let’s do it together, okay?”

The words still echoed in her ears, like the wind of this Imperial Plaza, forever stirring restlessly above the plaza because of the surrounding buildings’ constraints.

But in a blink, seas changed to mulberry fields.

Afterward, in the same position, at the foot of the founding Empress’s statue, she experienced life’s greatest despair and most ice-cold resolution.

Afterward, at the position where he had “killed himself” for her, she sent the ice-cold blade into his chest, and a mouthful of poisonous blood sprayed upon it.

Afterward, atop the palace city that had once received cheers, she saw the ice-cold snowy night, wave after wave of opponents surging to fill the plaza, heard the angry curses of officials and scholars driving her out, saw the corpses of Kanglong’s remonstration unto death, saw patches of blood flowers blooming on patches of snowflakes.

Afterward, in the secret passages beneath the entire plaza, her breathing remained with his. The mysterious “old eunuch” carried her all the way through darkness and pain. The moment he pushed her into the river to escape, she saw his waving gesture—not farewell, but an attempt to hold her back.

But only today did she understand.

The soldiers guarding the palace city saw the woman standing dazed at the plaza entrance and slowly gathered to question her. Her figure flashed.

The next moment she was inside Yuzhao Palace.

The palace path stretched long, extending toward that snowy night, as if he were still gazing from the opposite side. On this side were the officials escorting her into the palace; he stood alone on the opposite side.

At the time she thought it was acting, but now she knew it was fate’s hint—he had always fought alone for her sake. Against human hearts, court situations, heaven’s will.

That person opposite wore thin clothing, with straight posture, white robes fluttering in the wind like a white phantom.

At night’s end, he was crystal clear as glass, even his lips bloodless.

The long palace path gradually covered with snow.

She stepped forward, extending both hands. That day she had never held his hand, never known his warmth. Now she wanted to know—was he well? Was he well then?

One step out, light and shadow broke.

Something fell on the back of her hand, first hot then cool, rolling coldly downward, striking the ground with soft pattering sounds.

She walked all the way, those fine teardrops’ pattering sounds on the ground never ceasing. She stopped before some steps, not needing to look up at the plaque to know this was her sleeping hall.

Very close to Quiet Court, a sleeping hall with a small door opened for convenient access.

Before the sleeping hall was a swing. She had swung countless times there, only seeking to fly high to glimpse him in Quiet Court’s study.

The swing rope was so thick she could hardly grasp it. He was always afraid she would fall. On the swing seat were soft cushions and sachets filled with fresh flower petals. She lowered her head to smell—the fragrance was so fresh, but her heart had already grown old and wrinkled.

A few steps forward, she looked down at the steps, so clean there wasn’t a speck of dust, obviously cleaned daily.

She wasn’t surprised in her heart. He had always been such a person—cold in appearance, meticulous within.

The steps were made of hemp stone, different from the green stone strips commonly used in the palace, because she had once fallen due to green stone strips being too slippery when snow fell.

Going up the steps, she habitually raised her legs high. Dahuang’s hall thresholds were always very high, and she was often tripped by them.

But no threshold tripped her leg. Only then did she remember that originally, because she was always being tripped, all the thresholds in Yuzhao Palace and Quiet Court had been sawed down.

Later, her own palaces all had thresholds, and she had forgotten this habit.

Because without him, no one would saw down thresholds for her anymore.

Upon entering, there seemed to be changes. She was stunned, then discovered there were two screens before her.

One was the original colorful peony screen, one was an embroidered screen with the portrait of the famous beauty Mao Zhinan from the previous dynasty. Mao Zhinan looked somewhat like modern Korean pop stars—fair and tall. For a period she was quite infatuated and clamored for his embroidered screen, but Gong Yin never agreed.

When she left, the things she liked were left here.

She looked indifferently at that screen—all the beautiful things in this life, I like them all, but they are scenery that passes the eye, wind that brushes the ear, flowers glimpsed once more for their beauty while traveling.

You left this screen for me—was it to win a laugh from me? But do you know, I would exchange this embroidered screen, I would exchange everything I have, for just a corner of your robe right now.

Moving forward, there was her bed. The bedding was actually made up, arranged neatly and orderly, every corner of the quilt tucked in securely.

Beside the bed were her soft sleeping clothes, under the bed her comfortable slippers, all covered with silk gauze to prevent dust.

On the pillow was a fresh flower, delicate and about to drip, clearly a fresh flower picked daily. The small thorns on the rose had been carefully trimmed away.

“…Gong Yin, Gong Yin, other people’s boyfriends all send their girlfriends flowers.”

“Go pick them yourself in Quiet Court.”

“No romance! No taste! No humanity!”

That flower had bloomed daily since she left.

Whether he was there or not, whether she was there or not, this morning flower was strictly maintained.

Did he always prefer to do everything behind the scenes, so that when she could no longer turn back, she would be even more sighing and sorrowful?

The cabinet against the wall—she remembered it held her boxes, but now the cabinet wouldn’t open. The cabinet doors had been locked shut.

He had sealed away everything belonging to her, preferring to live forever in memories.

But she was no longer willing to face these memories. She fled from the hall as if escaping, unconsciously passing through the side door, which indeed was not locked.

The door creaked open. In a trance, someone might still walk over and drink in one gulp her doctored duck soup, as if she might still see Meng Hu winking at her—left eye meaning he was busy, right eye meaning he wasn’t busy.

She blinked. Something seemed to be in her eyes, hard and painful.

The red maples in Quiet Court hadn’t reached blooming season, their branches and leaves green. She passed under the red maples, thinking of that day when three people drank together under the tree, thinking of the Truth or Dare that foretold the future and truth, thinking of that day when he carried her past览胜阁、飞阑亭、萃华楼、冶春湖. Remembering her loud shouts by the lake. Those shouts stirred up layered waves under the bridge, rolling up thousands of piles of snow, waves that continued to this day.

I like you, I want to be with you.

From beginning to end, there was only this one thing to say, but there was no echo, no echo.

She slowly stepped into Quiet Court’s study.

Quiet Court actually had no one. At this moment, this central place of Dahuang was actually empty of halls, as if someone had deliberately emptied the palace, emptied the past, so she could thoroughly enter and take over.

She stood before the desk Gong Yin commonly used. The desktop actually had a bronze mirror laid on it. She raised her head—opposite, behind the flower wall, was her swing.

In the past when she swung on the swing, she always complained that he in the window never looked up, not knowing that as she watched him from the swing, he bowed his head before the mirror. The swing decorated his window—who decorated whose dream?

She slowly pulled open the drawer.

In the drawer was a scroll of yellow silk decree. Besides this, there was nothing on or under the desk. Originally this place should have been piled with documents, but now it seemed to have been cleared out too.

Only this scroll of decree was his final arrangement for her.

She stared for a long time, very much wanting to slam the drawer shut, lock it, turn around, leave Quiet Court, leave Dige, even leave Dahuang.

I don’t want your painstaking arrangements, I don’t want your heart’s blood as matchmaker, I don’t want to step on your sacrifice and blood to ascend the empty, lonely, cold throne of Queen.

But in the end, her fingertip slowly touched that scroll of yellow silk without warmth.

Having reached this point, she no longer had reason to be willful.

She could no longer be that willful and headstrong Jing Hengbo of the past. The heavier others’ sacrifice, the less she could put down and move forward. When shouldering the blood that countless people had vomited up completely, she could only wipe away the blood traces and move forward.

The silk was very clean, carrying the scent of lacquer seal, as if just taken from a secret chamber, but the writing and seal were no longer fresh—they should have been prepared for some time.

She looked at the handwriting on the decree for a long time. It had been too long since she’d seen his writing, so that at first she only stared at his handwriting but lost the ability to connect the characters together. After a while, those words finally linked into complete meaning, leaping into her mind.

“…Because of the world’s disappointment, following the unanimous wish, hereby raising the righteous banner to clear national disaster…The false emperor Gong Yin shall immediately have his title abolished and be permanently exiled from Dahuang.”

Her finger trembled, and the yellow silk fell to the ground.

In an instant it was like lightning striking. In a trance it was again that night of thunder and rain, the killing field with blood flowers forming walls. That dying Sang family guard crawled toward Gong Yin step by step with his elbow, dragging long blood lines behind him, instantly smeared by the pouring rain.

His dying howl seemed to thunder through Quiet Court. Everyone present shivered continuously, whether from rain or from those words. That scene could never be erased from memory.

“Gong Yin! You will suffer heaven’s bite, fall into the abyss. Betrayed by all, permanently exiled from Dahuang!”

With a clang, Jing Hengbo’s trembling legs knocked against the stool behind her.

Gong Yin!

This is your final arrangement!

You gave up this world, you exiled yourself from Dahuang, you left these three flags of Dige empty and flying, only waiting for me to return and mend them again.

The cut flagpole wasn’t repaired—was it because you had already decided long ago that there would no longer be a place for yourself?

This scroll of decree—was it already written before that snowy night in Dige?

Long ago, had you already laid out this step-by-step path, one step one drop of blood, one step one snowfall?

Her whole body was ice-cold, but her eye sockets burned like fire. The trembling throughout her body couldn’t be stopped. She suddenly picked up the decree and ran wildly out.

Running madly.

Past Quiet Court, past the sleeping hall, past Yuzhao Palace, past the long palace path, past eight palace gates. Her lightning-swift shadow left those startled guards behind. Throughout Yuzhao Palace were her wildly running figure, clothes billowing in the wind, mottled blood traces disappearing in a flash.

She ran up the palace city.

Below the city in the plaza, a vast crowd—these were officials who had rushed here because of Dige’s crisis, all gathering together in panic, seeking audience with the Emperor, and listening fearfully to the sounds from the city gates.

Someone inadvertently looked up and suddenly cried out: “Look, up there!”

Everyone looked up and saw atop Yuzhao Palace’s city wall stood a woman in purple robes, when she had appeared no one knew.

Her black hair billowed in the wind, clutching tightly a scroll of yellow silk in her hand, her cloak rolling upward behind her, dots of bright red like scattered plum blossoms.

She gripped the city wall’s cold bricks, slightly raising her head. Her eyes seemed to contain this imperial city of Dige, yet seemed to contain nothing, only beyond the clouds and sky, only at distant mountains and seas.

People squinted slightly, confused and hazy in their hearts, only feeling this woman’s beauty was magnificent, somewhat familiar.

Suddenly someone cried out: “The former Queen!”

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

After the silence came a tremendous roar. Cries of alarm like a tide instantly swept across the entire plaza.

“The Queen has returned!”

“The Black Water Queen has already entered the city!”

“The Queen appears atop the palace city—the Horizontal Halberd Army must have entered the city too!”

“Dige city is broken!”

Screaming, chaos, fleeing, crowding… the plaza became a complete mess.

At this moment, with wildly galloping hooves and thunderous battering rams, Dige’s city gates and Xuanning Gate simultaneously let out shaking roars, then howling sounds like a tide surged into Dahuang’s heart.

Dige city was broken.

At this moment atop the snow mountains, with a thunderous crash, the underground passage gate burst open. More than ten figures shot out like lightning, the foremost carrying a white-clothed person, leading the group in swift retreat.

The snow mountain disciples guarding this place were about to pursue, but Murong Chou waved his hand. The Heavenly Gate sect leader gazed at those retreating figures with meaningful eyes.

The Longyingshi family descended the snow mountains.

At this moment, Jing Hengbo atop Yuzhao Palace’s city wall unrolled that yellow silk decree. Before the eyes of Dige’s officials, inch by inch, she tore it to pieces.

The fierce wind swirled strongly. Everyone involuntarily stopped their movements, watching those yellow fragments flutter down like butterflies.

At this moment the palace city was silent, the multitude silent, heaven and earth silent. All living beings were suppressed and suffocated by that woman’s repressed pain, unable to make their own sounds.

Some slowly knelt, others gradually followed. Iron hooves drew near while she stood atop the city, overlooking this vast world.

Gradually the black mass of heads prostrated like grass in patches.

Yellow butterflies danced throughout the sky.

But what fluttered before her eyes was the scattered snow of that snowy night in Dige years ago, falling endlessly from winter to spring, continuously.

Gong Yin.

This great world you don’t want, I don’t want either.

I will tread through all green mountains, walk through all Dahuang. I will search every corner of this world. I will use the remaining time of my life to walk through every place you could hide.

You exile your person, I exile my soul. At road’s end, even if person and soul cannot unite, turning to white bones, I will always wait to ask you one question.

Gong Yin, between us, who is more cruel?

She slowly raised her head.

At this moment.

All of Dige heard the only shout she made.

“Gong Yin!”

※※※

(End of Volume)