Citizens carrying lanterns filled the streets. At this time with so many people scattered about, children constantly bumped into Qun Qing, and Lu Huating grabbed her wrist with one hand.

Feeling her stiffen, he nonchalantly released his grip and only held the corner of her garment.

Qun Qing turned her head. Multicolored light fell across his profile—before her eyes stretched a brilliant sea of lantern light, dreamlike.

Her fear of men suddenly approaching had begun after the Pure Serenity Temple. Even though she refused to accept that a person could be so fragile, her body’s reactions couldn’t be controlled. She could only conceal it, trying her best to act as if nothing was wrong.

He knew, and he remembered.

Qun Qing lowered her lashes. The delicate connection through her sleeve seemed to touch her heart.

After walking for a while, she made up her mind and reached out to grasp his hand.

Perhaps her fingers were too cold—it made Lu Huating pause. Then his five fingers suddenly forced apart her fingers, forcibly interlacing them with hers.

Qun Qing struggled briefly but couldn’t break free. Given the public setting, he tightly clasped her left hand as they walked side by side.

Lu Huating said softly: “Lady, you offered yourself. I didn’t use shackles to bind you.”

Qun Qing felt there wasn’t much difference between this and being bound in shackles.

After a long while with no response from Qun Qing, Lu Huating turned his face slightly, only to see her turned aside, appreciating the lanterns with proper composure—yet that glass earring swung violently, and her earlobe had turned bright red.

Qun Qing let him pull her through the crowd until she saw a shop sign—the clothing shop they’d just left not long ago.

Crossing the threshold into the brocade interior, the proprietress saw the two of them and smiled broadly: “Young sir, I knew you’d come back. That scarlet gauze dress—so many ladies have tried it, but only your lady wears it most stunningly.”

“That color is too bright—it doesn’t suit me.” Qun Qing responded while reminding Lu Huating in a low voice, “It’s too expensive. We won’t have money for lodging these next few days.”

The proprietress said: “Oh my lady, other young ladies can’t wait to dress themselves up brilliantly and attractively. Why is it that you, born to rival frost and snow, insist on hiding and refusing to show yourself?”

Lu Huating had already taken out the gold ingot he carried. Hearing this, he smiled faintly at the proprietress and gave her another gold pearl: “A token of appreciation.”

The proprietress thanked them profusely. When Qun Qing emerged and the wind hit her, she felt it was madness.

Lu Huating said: “There’s a place we can stay, but it’s rather far—depends on whether you’re willing.”

Qun Qing said: “It’s not some shabby alley, is it?”

Lu Huating shook his head slightly: “I’m not familiar with this area, but I know the direction toward Huaiyuan well. Below the mountain are many villages—after the chaos of war, the common people moved away, leaving empty houses.”

Qun Qing had no objections. As long as there was shelter, it would do.

Using the remaining money to hire a cart, they left the town and reached the place Lu Huating had mentioned. Below the mountain was a desolate village with wild shops—broken walls and ruins hidden in the darkness, not even a single lantern.

Seeing this scene, the cart driver didn’t dare linger for a moment. He left the two behind and returned.

Qun Qing looked around. Though the dwellings had been abandoned, they could barely be lived in.

Lu Huating walked into one of the rooms. The door lock had already rusted. He placed his palm against the door and with slight force pushed it open.

The empty humble room was nevertheless quite tidy. Curtains hung over the bed, a vanity stood beside it—one could faintly see the owner’s tidy habits.

Lu Huating stood within, surveying the surroundings, then swept away cobwebs and retrieved wax and window paper from a cabinet: “Seal the window and it can be lived in.”

He lit a candle. When he turned around, Qun Qing had disappeared. Lu Huating opened the back door and walked into the rear courtyard.

Under the night sky, pine and cypress provided shade. Beneath the deep, dense tree shadows stood a solitary grave with a small tombstone erected before it.

Qun Qing stood before this monument, wind moving her skirt ribbons, with the bearing of the Goddess of the Luo River. Then she bent down and carefully wiped the stone with the plain handkerchief she carried.

“What is the lady doing?”

“Coming to borrow lodging—how could one not pay respects to the host?” Qun Qing said as she wiped.

Lu Huating stood beside her, seeming about to speak. Qun Qing had always been cautious regarding matters of ghosts and spirits, fearing he would say something frivolous. She made a “shh” sound, and he closed his mouth.

The next moment, Qun Qing wiped clear the name of the person who erected the monument. The three characters “Lu Huating” were red as blood, prominently arranged there.

Qun Qing was shocked. Wiping again, she clearly saw the two characters “Loving Mother.” Her scalp tingling, she suddenly turned to look at Lu Huating: “This is your home?”

Looking again at this dilapidated dwelling, it had long been empty. No wonder he opened doors and retrieved objects with such ease—he himself was the owner.

Lu Huating took the handkerchief from her hand and wiped the tombstone clean: “This was a temporary dwelling after leaving Huaiyuan.”

He was unwilling to call it “home.” Between heaven and earth, he had no home.

He cleaned the tombstone, then merely bent to place an orange before the grave. He remained silent for a long while before rising.

Qun Qing looked at him: “That’s it?”

“What else?”

Qun Qing had already lifted her skirts and knelt properly before the grave, saying: “Kneel down.”

She truly couldn’t bring herself to disrespect a departed spirit, especially since this spirit was Lu Huating’s mother, and moreover, they would be staying here tonight.

Lu Huating looked at her, suppressed the smile at the corner of his lips, also straightened his expression, and knelt beside her: “Mother, your son Qi Lang has brought his new wife Liu Niang back to see you.”

Hearing the words “Liu Niang,” Qun Qing’s heart stirred. Listening to his solemn speech, it turned out he wasn’t without words to say after all.

Lu Huating lit candles: “On the day Mother lay dying, she couldn’t close her eyes, worried that your child’s excessive cleverness would lead to an early end, unable to live long.”

Qun Qing’s heart shook. This person’s previous impression on her had indeed been like that of a lonely wandering ghost—arrogant like morning mist that easily dissipates at dawn, neither valuing others nor himself, with neither origin nor future.

Here and now, with none but the departed spirit and the two of them, true words slipped out. Her feeling was finally verified: his climbing upward was merely a means of revenge; beneath fame and fortune hid a world-weary, death-seeking heart.

Lu Huating gazed at the tombstone and said calmly: “Mother can now rest assured. Your child has found someone to care about. With her presence, I gain interest in the mortal world and can live well.”

As these words entered her ears, Qun Qing’s heart trembled. Lu Huating had already risen and entered the inner room.

After she finished sweeping, she immediately followed through the door. Just as she entered, Lu Huating leaned against the table looking at her, his face illuminated by candlelight until it was almost gorgeous: “Liu Niang, did you hear?”

His tone was rarely mischievous—clearly he was in excellent spirits, seeming to want to see her reaction.

Qun Qing was also enveloped by this strange happiness, though her face didn’t show it.

Cold wind blew against her face. The window was only half sealed, and outside the pine wind roared. This strange scene was like a scene from a storybook where a scholar encounters a demon.

Lu Huating’s thumb brushed across her lower lip, which the light had turned pomegranate red. He first kissed the corner of her lips, then her lips, kissing somewhat unconventionally.

“Lady, what are you thinking?” The slightest distraction was immediately detected by him.

Qun Qing was both absorbed and disdainful of this indulgence, so she could only say: “I’m wondering how things are in the palace.”

Lu Huating released her: “Aren’t you tired thinking about all this?”

“Can you really not think about it?” Qun Qing asked. “Your calculations may not all be accurate. After all, there will be bloodshed. If it doesn’t succeed.”

She was constantly reviewing whether there were any flaws in her arrangements for Ruo Chan and Zheng Zhiyi. She didn’t like the Great Brightness Palace, but having been a palace servant for over ten years, she had long become part of the palace.

Lu Huating was silent for a moment, then said: “I don’t know why, but now that the moment of revelation approaches, I suddenly have no interest in the outcome.”

“Since there are people in the palace you can’t let go of, then once we receive word, let’s return. Otherwise you won’t see him one last time.”

Qun Qing detected his implication and said: “Who are you talking about?”

“Who do you think?” Lu Huating smiled faintly, but his expression was displeased as he turned to paste window paper.

That arrow Li Xuan had shot still ached faintly.

Qun Qing didn’t think too much about it, only stared at his back in a daze.

This person’s appearance was like jade trees—viewing his back made his waist even more apparent.

At the time she’d merely been impressed in her heart, thinking they were destined to go separate ways, never imagining they could ultimately become a married couple, that she could possess him.

It was quite magical.

She called out “Lu Huating.” Lu Huating hesitantly turned around, and Qun Qing embraced him without warning. Whether or not she believed in love between men and women didn’t prevent her from experiencing the sensation of embracing him—like two oddly shaped tangram pieces that, after much wandering, fitted together seamlessly without a gap.

Outside the window, rain dripped steadily from the eaves.

Lu Huating’s body went rigid. He didn’t move for a long while. What he’d been thinking moments ago—he suddenly couldn’t remember any of it.

He only thought that the coiling of a green snake wasn’t rigid and cold, but rather a kind of gentle, ethereal softness.

If this was what being strangled felt like, he was willing to entangle and struggle with her for a lifetime—

For Chang’an, this was an ordinary night.

The cuckoo called incessantly. That night, Prince Yan attended Emperor Chenming’s sickbed in the hall.

Li Huan had been requesting to attend the sickbed for several days. Ostensibly to visit Emperor Chenming, it was actually to denounce the Crown Prince’s poisoning attempt against him. Consort Han had been using Emperor Chenming’s convalescence as a reason not to let him see him. Only tonight, after much grinding, did she let him in.

As soon as Li Huan arrived, he said only a few words before demanding Emperor Chenming severely punish the Crown Prince. Emperor Chenming flew into a rage: “Now that Er Lang is gone, only you two brothers remain. Your imperial brother is the Crown Prince. If you don’t respect him, do you intend fratricide?”

“Your son doesn’t disrespect him—it’s truly that the Crown Prince has wolfish ambitions and goes too far.”

Emperor Chenming struck the bed: “What wolfish ambitions? Did you dare speak this way before? Isn’t it because you see that I’m bedridden and therefore act arrogantly?”

Li Huan didn’t dare argue further and lowered his head, kneeling before Emperor Chenming’s bed.

Hearing the sounds of argument, Consort Han entered to serve Emperor Chenming a bowl of medicinal soup.

Consort Han carried a floral scent. Emperor Chenming’s expression temporarily eased as he took the medicinal soup and drank it. Who knew that barely a few breaths after this peace, Li Huan suddenly flicked out the soft sword at his waist, shattering the soup bowl and spilling the liquid all over the bed.

Emperor Chenming was simply furious beyond measure, but heard Li Huan say: “Consort Han, you dare collude with the Crown Prince, coordinating from within and without to poison Imperial Father. Someone come—seize her!”

Emperor Chenming wanted to curse but couldn’t speak. He wanted to raise his hand but his arm was powerless. Opening his mouth, he was shocked to realize he didn’t know what he’d drunk. His internal organs all seemed paralyzed, and his face showed a terrified expression.

Seeing this, Consort Han was also shocked. She immediately knelt and said: “Your Majesty, this medicine wasn’t from your consort… This medicine was just sent by the Empress—your consort merely presented it on orders!”

Emperor Chenming glared at her, unable to speak.

Consort Han sweated like rain, her mind in chaos. According to Li Xuan’s instructions, she was indeed to act tonight, but unable to bear harming Emperor Chenming, she’d already switched the medicine for a colorless, tasteless sleeping tonic. How had Li Huan known?

Fortunately, hearing the commotion, urgent footsteps rushed into the hall.

The Jinwu Guards outside the bedchamber had long been replaced with Li Xuan’s trusted men. If they entered, they could control the situation.

To her surprise, those who entered weren’t Jinwu Guards but Prince Yan Mansion’s shadow guards. Dressed in black with calm expressions, they surrounded Li Huan protectively.

Li Huan’s expression had already changed completely. His pale, handsome face was indifferent, only looking at Emperor Chenming with some pain in his eyes: “Imperial Father, I said the Crown Prince harbored rebellious intentions—do you still not believe?”

Emperor Chenming’s expression was filled with disbelief.

“Then listen.” After Li Huan spoke, he looked toward the window. “Listen to how your most favored imperial brother betrays you.”

Outside the hall, the sounds of metal weapons clashing in combat were incessant. The sound of blades piercing flesh made hearts palpitate—two groups were already fighting to the death.

Emperor Chenming’s expression went from shock to hesitation, to sorrow, and finally to calm.

“Imperial Father looks at your son this way—do you think I’m too ruthless? Imperial Brother let me in tonight intending to catch everyone in one net. If your son hadn’t prepared early, I’m afraid we father and son would have nowhere to seek justice.” The remaining poison still in his system, Li Huan coughed twice.

From outside came the sound of jewelry clashing. Emperor Chenming turned to look—it was Empress Ma. Consort Han also thought she’d been careless. The Empress had never been of much use, but unexpectedly at the critical moment, she finally had the courage to stand by her son’s side.

“That bowl of medicinal soup just now—your consort administered it.” Empress Ma looked at Emperor Chenming with a somber expression. Over these years, this man’s expression toward her had been nothing but impatience and disgust. She’d seen too much disdain throughout the palace and had become somewhat numb to it.

Yet at this moment, facing Emperor Chenming’s shocked expression, she unexpectedly felt a satisfaction delayed by many years, because he was finally regarding her seriously for once.

She walked to Emperor Chenming’s side and grasped his hand, saying softly: “Since Your Majesty is already gravely ill, why not leave state affairs to the children? From now on, let your consort care for you, and we’ll spend our remaining years in peace.”

More and more shadow guards surrounded the room like an iron barrel. Emperor Chenming finally made a weak sound.

Lanterns hung in the air above the Eastern Palace, emitting a ghostly light.

Li Xuan sat in the hall with memorials placed before him, yet not a single word entered his eyes.

Finally, the silence was broken. A small eunuch burst through the door, no time to straighten his wind-blown hat: “Your Highness, Your Highness, disaster!”

Silence returned to the air, but Li Xuan’s heart sank. His ears seemed to carry sounds of combat—all sounds like sharp arrows closing in around him.

“Prince Yan, Prince Yan prepared early. Our people planted in the traveling lodge have all been surrounded…”

For this night, Li Xuan had tossed and turned sleepless for many nights. Now the sounds of metal weapons in his ears were like floating nightmares, among them clear drum sounds and sharp whistling arrows.

“What’s that sound outside?” he asked.

Wang Xiang entered. Li Xuan saw his head covered in blood, blood flowing down his cheeks in utter disarray: “Your Highness, Princess Danyang has brought people to surround the palace city, saying, saying the Eastern Palace acted presumptuously and she’s come to rescue His Majesty.”

“Rescue… Princess Danyang…” Li Xuan pondered. “It seems they’ve been corresponding all along.”

His imperial sister, after Empress Dowager Yuan’s birthday, had requested to go to her fief, saying she wouldn’t participate in politics, yet ultimately still stood on Li Huan’s side.

Since they’d been corresponding all along, it meant Li Huan had been laying plans much earlier. Prince Yan Mansion’s apparent inactivity during this period was merely going along with the flow.

The panic of these days finally had an ending—he’d lost, and the Meng family had also lost.

“Your Highness, the traveling lodge has fallen into Prince Yan’s hands, His Majesty is also in Prince Yan’s hands. If he intends to seize the throne, I’m afraid Prince Yan’s next target will be Your Highness—otherwise he cannot answer to the ministers.” Wang Xiang called back his consciousness. “Breaking out is already hopeless. Either now, immediately leave the palace. Princess Danyang is blood-related to you after all—she surely can’t bear to watch Prince Yan…”

“Leave the palace?” Li Xuan laughed coldly. “Like the former Chu Crown Prince Zhao, fleeing the palace like a homeless dog? I am the Crown Prince. I will not do this.”

Wang Xiang wanted to speak more, but Li Xuan said: “Get out.”

Everyone withdrew. The brief tranquility remaining in the hall surrounded Li Xuan like water.

He suddenly drew his precious sword and held it to his neck, but was desperately stopped by Shouxi: “No, absolutely not, Your Highness!”

Amid the tragedy, Li Xuan came to his senses and threw down the sword.

Outside was faint firelight.

Though dawn hadn’t yet broken, everything was already clear.

What he most feared had ultimately occurred—the more he feared it, the more it happened.

Ignoring Shouxi’s obstruction, Li Xuan pushed open the door and walked out. Looking at the corpses of the Eastern Palace troops covering the ground, in the distance a dozen or so crossbows saw him emerge and raised their arrow tips, aiming at him.

Wind blew his snow-white robes. Li Xuan said: “Is San Lang here? I concede defeat.”

“Only one matter—I hope you’ll agree.” Li Xuan said. “The Crown Princess’s delivery is imminent. I beg you—don’t disturb her.”