Li Xuandu left Zhang Zhuo and Yuchi behind, directing the two men to continue leading the Que people westward until they met up with his aunt Jin Xi. With everything settled, he did not linger for even a moment longer — traveling light, he set off at once to make his way back.

Battling wind and rain, pressing on through one place to the next, between departure and return, without once stopping to rest.

These two years, he had grown gradually accustomed to such a pace. But no matter where he was, no matter how difficult the circumstances, whenever fatigue overtook him or sleepless nights left him alone with his thoughts, he needed only to think of her — waiting at the place he had set out from. Though ten thousand mountains and rivers might lie between them, through wind and frost and snow and rain, as long as he returned, no matter when, she would always be there waiting for him. All his exhaustion and loneliness would vanish without a trace.

And this time, he had left just as he always did — just as he always had before.

At first he could barely even recall how he had said goodbye to her. At last, he remembered the scene of his departure: at that moment, he had just rescued his cousin, and wanted to set out immediately to go and rescue his uncle and the people of his homeland who were in danger. She had stopped him and told him to sleep first.

She said he was too exhausted, and he needed rest. He had listened to her, closed his eyes for a while, and at the fifth watch of the following day, set out with the travel pack she had packed for him.

There had not even been a proper farewell.

It was only after he had turned away that he thought of her, and came back to hold her briefly, handed over to her all the matters here that he would be unable to attend to — and then hurried away.

He had taken it entirely for granted that she would be behind him, waiting for his return.

But this time, he would not find her waiting for him at the place he had set out from.

The road was so winding, the return journey so long, and the anxiety and self-reproach magnified every moment of worry until it consumed him. He drove himself through the torment with reddened eyes, pushing on without sleep or rest, day and night without cease. More than a month later, when he was finally almost there, even the several horses they had brought along to take turns carrying them had all run themselves to exhaustion.

Passing near Yan City, he made a brief stop — changed horses, did not enter the city itself, and immediately pressed on.

After he had gone some distance, a voice called out behind him.

Li Xuandu reined in his horse.

The disappearance of the Princess Consort was something the Protector-General’s Office had not disclosed publicly, and the Baole King had not the slightest knowledge of what had happened at the Shuang clan’s city. He had only heard that Li Xuandu had returned and was passing through Yan City to change horses, and thinking of the knot that had been weighing on his mind these past few months, he had hurried out of the city in pursuit. Catching up, he observed that Li Xuandu’s face was wind-beaten and weary, his appearance deeply fatigued. Wanting to make a good impression first, he opened his mouth with a remark about the hardships of the road, suggesting that since he was already passing through Yan City, why not enter and rest a while — the palace had already prepared a banquet and wine, and he was welcome to stay the night and return to the Protector-General’s Office in the morning. Then, before he had even finished speaking, he found himself cut off by Prince Qin, who said with a brief word of thanks that he appreciated the thought, then tightened his reins and was about to leave — whereupon the Baole King hurried forward again. “Prince Qin, please stay! This king has another matter!”

Li Xuandu reluctantly turned his head.

This time, the Baole King did not dare beat around the bush again. He came before Li Xuandu and related the whole incident: that night at the Protector-General’s Office victory banquet, he had gotten drunk and let slip some careless words, and had — right there in front of everyone — proposed marriage on behalf of his clansman to the Li Clan Chief.

“This king was too rash. At the time I hadn’t made proper inquiries, had a couple too many cups of wine, and on impulse, rashly proposed marriage to the Chief on behalf of my younger kinsman. If this king had known the Chief was Your Highness’s person, not even ten times the courage would have been enough to entertain such a thought. The presumption that day was truly too great — it gave offense to Your Highness and dishonored the Chief. This king hopes Your Highness will in no way hold a grudge!”

He kept clasping his fists in apology.

Blocking someone’s road over such a preposterous matter.

Li Xuandu could no longer suppress the anxiety and impatience in his heart. The elegance and restraint he normally maintained had entirely deserted him, and he said sharply, “The Chief is my cousin. How could she possibly be ‘my person’? Her marriage is her own affair — what has it to do with me? Utterly absurd! Do what you ought to do and go back!” With that, he pushed past the Baole King, who was still blocking his way, and continued on.

The Baole King watched the mounted figure rapidly disappearing into the distance and stood rooted to the spot for a good while.

By what Prince Qin had just said, was the Li Clan Chief not his person after all?

He breathed a sigh of relief. But recalling Prince Qin’s manner just now — completely unlike his usual self, his face showing clear displeasure — could it be that something he had said just now had offended him again?

Li Xuandu left the Baole King standing there in uneasy apprehension, galloped at full speed, and arrived at the Shuang clan’s city that same day.

In the Protector-General’s Office, Ye Xiao had gone to give chase after Han Rongchang, A’Ju had fallen ill with worry and taken to bed, and the Shuang clan woman, having moved over some time ago, was caring for Ruo Yue — whose confinement was drawing near — and also managing the general affairs. Hearing that Li Xuandu had returned, she led people out to receive him.

The moment Luo Bao set eyes on Li Xuandu, his eyes went red. Choking back tears, he called out in a strained voice, “Your Highness, you’ve finally come back,” then came running over and with a heavy thud dropped to his knees, and in his grief threw his arms around Li Xuandu’s boot — not daring to cry aloud, just shuddering and sniffling, wiping at his tears.

When he began to cry like this, everyone in the room’s eyes went red as well, and a pall of grief settled over the place.

Li Xuandu did not pull his foot away, but let Luo Bao hold his leg and cry. He asked the Shuang clan woman for the details. Learning that the two attendants who had been traveling with Pu Zhu that day had already been released and sent back, he immediately called them and questioned them about everything that had happened after they had set out on the road. He was then told that Ye Xiao had been pursuing for some time now and still had not sent back any word — he was presumably not yet catching up.

The Shuang clan woman reassured Li Xuandu, “Your Highness need not be too distressed. Han Rongchang would not dare mistreat the Princess Consort. The Princess Consort’s life will not be in danger.”

Though she did not say it outright, everyone understood clearly that this must have been the instigation of the young Emperor in the capital.

Li Xuandu stood in silence, so utterly quiet it was frightening. The atmosphere in the hall became heavy and oppressive, and even Luo Bao no longer dared to sob, quietly letting go of the leg he had been clutching and laying face-down on the floor, weeping silently.

Li Xuandu finally spoke. His tone was calm, and he thanked the Shuang clan woman sincerely, asking her to exert herself a while longer in the days to come. He then ordered someone to prepare horses and select men.

He stood with a riding whip wound around his hand, outside the Protector-General’s Office, and while waiting for the men and horses to assemble, gazed toward the unseen distance — toward the Yumen Pass a thousand li and more away.

All the anxiety, self-reproach, and fury — at this moment, they condensed into a single thought: to pursue as quickly as possible.

No matter where she had been taken at this moment, or where she was going to be taken, he would certainly go after her.

Even if, when all was said and done, when he got there, she had changed her heart…

No, no — that was impossible! He told himself so, inwardly.

That day before his grandmother, she had made her declaration — that she was willing to come here with him. That alone had made her intentions clear. To say nothing of everything she had done since she came.

Without her, they would not have reached where the Protector-General’s Office was today so quickly.

How could she have changed her heart?

“Your Highness — everything is ready, awaiting your orders whenever you wish to depart!”

Zhang Shishan came to stand behind him to report.

He knew that she must be waiting day and night, waiting for him to come and rescue her.

Li Xuandu told himself this one more time inwardly, suppressed the chaos in his heart, turned to glance at the row of attendants standing in full readiness behind him, gave them a slight nod, and was just about to mount up and set out when he saw a rider coming along the road in the direction of the city gate, galloping hard toward the high ground where the Protector-General’s Office stood.

The rider arrived quickly. He was a garrison soldier from a beacon tower several tens of li away, who reported that a courier had come from the east — a warrior under Han Rongchang’s command, sent to deliver a letter on behalf of the Princess Consort.

Li Xuandu was stunned, nearly unable to believe it. He accepted the letter, so eager he could barely contain himself, and on the spot broke the seal and took out the letter within.

Reading rapidly, his eyes flew over the opening.

Her very first line told him that when she was writing this letter, she was outside the Yumen Pass — but already safe.

Han Rongchang had decided to let her go back. But considering that members of his family were in Li Chengyu’s hands, she planned to seek Cui Xuan’s help, and in the meantime go to her adoptive father Jiang Yi’s place first to take shelter for a time and wait for news — she told him not to worry about her.

This was an entirely unexpected turn.

Li Xuandu read through this section twice, confirming it was unmistakably her handwriting, and let out a long breath. Then another wave of heartache and lingering fear swept over him.

If Han Rongchang were here before him right now, he would certainly put a sword through the man.

Being hurt himself was nothing — this man had dared to lay hands on her!

He steadied himself slightly and read on, and reached the news of his grandmother, the Empress Dowager Jiang, passing away.

His gaze came to a stop on the letter. He stood motionless for a long moment, then raised his eyes toward the direction of the capital. He gripped the letter tightly in his hand, and his eyes slowly grew wet.

When he had left the capital that day, he had had a premonition — perhaps that was the last time he would see his grandmother.

And now it had come to pass. His grandmother was gone.

But what he had not anticipated was that before she left, his grandmother would arrange things as she had.

She also apologized in the letter, for not having passed along word of his grandmother’s failing health sooner.

How could he blame her for that?

It was clearly his grandmother’s own wish.

Across the great distance of ten thousand li, that deep and abiding affection — and the image of his grandmother on the day of parting, smiling and waving her hand to send him on his way — were engraved forever in his heart.

He ground his teeth, swore toward the heavens that one day he would have his grandmother’s remains properly interred, with incense offerings in perpetuity, honored down through the generations.

At the end of the letter, she told him about the matter of his cousin Li Tanfang.

That, he already knew.

He skimmed it briefly, then read through the first half of the letter once more. He was slowly folding the letter when he suddenly discovered that within the envelope there was yet another letter — it had not been folded together with the first, and he had not noticed it at first.

He paused, drew out the second letter, unfolded it, and the moment his eyes fell upon the words “My Jade Lord, my husband — upon seeing this, it is as though we meet again face to face” — it was as though the words struck him directly in the heart.

He remembered clearly — other than that one night in the Que kingdom when she had drunk too much wine and clung to him calling him “Yuli’er,” in all the time since, no matter how tender and close they had grown, she had always addressed him as “Your Highness.”

He had never imagined that the opening of this letter would see her use such an endearment to call him again.

He felt his heart race and his face flush with warmth.

His instincts told him this was a private letter only he should read.

Instinctively he raised his head, saw that Zhang Shishan and the others were still standing nearby watching him, and immediately folded the letter closed. He said simply, “A letter from the Princess Consort — she is for the moment unharmed,” dismissed them to stand by and wait for further orders, then took the letter and walked quickly into the nearest council hall. He closed the door, sat down, drew a breath, and unfolded the letter once more.

He read through her letter — and sat frozen.

He sat there, perfectly still, for a very long time. Then from outside the door came an urgent knocking, and the Shuang clan woman’s voice reached his ears. He came back to himself, hurriedly hid the letter, steadied his composure, and rose to go open the door.

The Shuang clan woman, propriety set aside for the moment, practically burst inside. Her foot had barely crossed the threshold when she said she had heard there was a letter from the Princess Consort, and asked what the situation was.

Li Xuandu knew how much she cared for Pu Zhu, and immediately told her the situation.

The Shuang clan woman finally breathed a small sigh of relief, and immediately went to the door, sent a maidservant to go to the back and share this good news with A’Ju and Sister Ruo Yue and the others, gave her instructions, then came back and said, “So long as the Princess Consort is safe, that is good. Your Highness has had a long and hard journey as well — go rest in the back first, and we can discuss the rest slowly when the time comes.”

Li Xuandu thanked her again.

The Shuang clan woman said there was no need, said she would not disturb his rest, and turned to leave.

Li Xuandu walked her out. After a few steps, he suddenly saw her stop again, as if she had remembered something. She looked at him as though she wanted to speak but then held back. He said, “If you have something to say, please say it.”

The Shuang clan woman looked at him for a moment, then walked back and closed the door. She turned to face him. “Since Your Highness says so, I will take the liberty of an elder and ask a question that is not really mine to ask. What exactly is the relationship between Your Highness and the Li Clan Chief?”

Li Xuandu had not expected her to ask this, and paused. “She is my cousin. There is no other relationship.”

The Shuang clan woman said, “Does Your Highness truly mean that?”

Li Xuandu immediately said, “Yes. Only cousins.”

The Shuang clan woman said, “Your Highness is open and upright, but others may not be as generous in their thinking. I do not mean to suggest that the Chief is not a good person — but let me speak plainly. The Chief’s feelings toward Your Highness may not be those of a cousin regarding a cousin. Since the Chief’s arrival here, almost everyone around has come to believe the Chief is Your Highness’s person. Has Your Highness considered what Zhuzhu would think, knowing this? Has Your Highness reassured her? Can Your Highness also make it clear to others that Your Highness and the Chief are only cousins, with no other entanglement?”

Li Xuandu suddenly recalled the scene of the Baole King running out of Yan City to intercept him earlier today, and finally understood it completely.

He felt a measure of shame, and for a moment did not know how to respond.

The Shuang clan woman’s tone softened. “Your Highness — I know this is truly not my place to say. But I genuinely feel for Zhuzhu. The Chief has been here for several months now, and Zhuzhu has not said a word to me about it — but I know what she is feeling.”

She paused.

“You must know something of what happened years ago — that I admired Zhuzhu’s father. It started because he had saved me, and I fell for him at first sight. Later I helped him with a few things, and with one visit and another, we grew familiar. I will not conceal it from you — I was young and reckless in those days. He always treated me with proper courtesy, but I had my heart set on marrying him, and I would not let go. To keep him here, I even had a Jiangnan courtyard built inside the fort, and the gossip spread until everyone assumed that he and I had an unusual relationship. Not only that, but I had the shamelessness to write a letter to Zhuzhu’s mother, saying that going forward I could lend support to his affairs in the Western Regions. Zhuzhu’s mother wrote back saying she was willing to accept me, and that when he returned, she would persuade him to agree. He was out on a mission to the Western Regions at the time. I was overjoyed, and went to find him with the letter. He said that Zhuzhu’s mother had agreed, but he knew that when she wrote that letter, she must also have been deeply heartbroken. The reason she had been so magnanimous was that she believed he wanted to take me in — and he would not let her suffer such grief. He refused me once more. And not only that — not long afterward, at a banquet with many guests present, he acknowledged me as his sworn younger sister before everyone.”

“It was after that incident that I learned my lesson, and was moved by the depth of feeling between him and Zhuzhu’s mother, and was thoroughly ashamed of myself. From that moment on, I never dared importune him again.”

“The following year I married someone — an unfortunate man, who died within a few months. Before long, I received the news that he had met with a terrible fate…”

A glimmer of tears showed in the Shuang clan woman’s eyes. She turned her face aside and wiped them away.

“I think of Zhuzhu as a daughter. When the Li Clan Chief was seized and taken away by the Que kingdom people, and Zhuzhu came to borrow guides from me — precisely because of my own past experience, I felt that the Chief’s feelings for you were not good news for Zhuzhu. At the time, I was reluctant to lend anyone. But Zhuzhu said to me that she did not want you to be distressed and blame yourself if something happened to your cousin — so she wanted to help you, and get the person rescued as quickly as possible.”

“Your Highness! Zhuzhu thought you had feelings for this cousin of yours — that is why she wanted to make way for you! Since you have no such feelings for the Chief, when Zhuzhu comes back this time — how can you not give her some reassurance?”

Li Xuandu stood frozen for a long time. He looked up, and the Shuang clan woman was already gone. Luo Bao was hovering in the doorway. He pressed down the turmoil in his heart and motioned for Luo Bao to come in.

Luo Bao said “Yes sir!” and came sprinting in, rubbing his eyes — still faintly reddened from earlier — and asked, “Your Highness, did the Princess Consort say when she’ll be back?” Then he could not help starting in on Han Rongchang again. “Smiling right to your face — looked like a decent, honest person — and he goes and does something like this! It’s a good thing he had the sense he did in the end. When the Princess Consort comes back, if so much as a single hair on her head is missing, I’m going to take a knife to him!”

Li Xuandu did not respond. After a moment’s silence, he suddenly asked, “Are there many people around here passing on rumors about me and the Chief having had a prior marriage arrangement?”

Luo Bao startled — he had not expected Prince Qin to suddenly ask this. Already with a bellyful of pent-up indignation, he burst right out. “You can say that again! When the Chief was rescued back by Your Highness, Your Highness had already gone, and the Princess Consort was tending to her illness all day long, busy inside and out. And then Zhang Zhuo actually came and asked me about this — said people everywhere were passing it around that the Chief was Your Highness’s person. The Princess Consort looked like nothing was the matter on the surface, but inside she must have been so heartbroken! That day when the Chief received a letter from Your Highness, the Princess Consort arranged right away for people to send her on her way — and when she saw the person off, the Princess Consort could barely stay on her feet. She nearly fainted right there, and it scared me half to death…”

The more Luo Bao said, the more distressed he became. He simply knelt down. “Your Highness, your servant will say it even if it means a slap across the face — when the Princess Consort comes back this time, can’t Your Highness give her some peace of mind? Your servant looks at the Princess Consort and just feels so sorry for her…” He started wiping at his tears again.

Li Xuandu closed his eyes and told him to go out. Then, alone, he returned to the desk, took out again the private letter she had written him, and read it one word by one word, from beginning to end, over and over again, more times than he could count. In the end he fixed his gaze on those last few lines — written in a rushed and unsteady hand — “In my heart, there is only one whom I love. But I do not know what lies in your heart. If your heart is divided, I am willing to give way to the one you truly care for.” The corners of his eyes went red.

He had always believed that his Zhuzhu was single-mindedly pursuing the position of Empress — that she loved it more than she loved him, the man himself.

He had also always believed she did not truly care about whatever the relationship between Li Tanfang and himself might be. That day, at the stone pavilion by his mother’s cenotaph in the Que kingdom, she had calmly agreed to the marriage alliance that Tanfang proposed. That scene had left a deep impression on him, and he had never forgotten it.

He could also not forget that one time — filled with the ardor of his feelings — he had taken leave of his aunt, gone from Silver Moon City in one breath all the way to the horse grounds in Shangjun to find her. She was sitting on a swing, her dress and sleeves drifting on the wind, so beautiful. He had confessed his feelings to her — and what awaited him was her telling him she believed in him, believed that he would one day become Emperor.

Then later, she had followed him here to the Western Regions, endured so many hardships, never complained, worked with him through one difficulty after another, until at last they had reached today, and their feelings had grown closer and closer. That moonlit night when he brought her back from the Shuang clan’s manor, they sat together on the cliff’s edge in the back courtyard, and he had even opened up to her about events long buried in his heart, things he had shut away as though behind closed doors. But even then, even after all of that, there was always a voice deep in his heart, quietly reminding him.

What Zhuzhu loved was not him — not Li Xuandu the man, in his own person — but Prince Qin Li Xuandu, the Li Xuandu who could help her realize her dream of becoming Empress.

He had never imagined that she in fact cared for him this deeply — that she wanted to possess him, wholly and alone.

He could not help reading her letter one more time, and thought back to their first encounter in He Xi.

Later they had become husband and wife. Barely two days into the marriage, she — mistakenly assuming he also harbored ambitions — had impatiently and foolishly leaped out to pressure him into rebellion.

Then later, at the autumn hunt, sharing a tent with her, she had schemed against him for the sake of her plans to bear a child, putting him through all manner of torment…

Facing this letter now, and looking back on those old memories that had at the time seemed unpleasant, he found, without knowing it, that the corners of his mouth had turned upward. He was smiling. But as he smiled, smiled on — his eyes grew hot again.

She said that the next time they met, she wanted to hear him tell her his answer in person.

He could wait no longer.

That eagerness he had felt when he left Silver Moon City — his heart full of love, so impatient to go to Shangjun to see her — he had thought he would never feel it again in this lifetime.

But at this moment, it had come back to life.

He wanted to go find her right now, and tell her the answer she wanted to hear.

His heart, Li Xuandu’s heart, was very small — so small it could only hold one person. Not so much as a single strand of another person’s hair was permissible.

And he also wanted to tell her: she was truly too foolish. She had endured such grievances for so long — why on earth had she kept silent about all of it?

He had thought Tanfang had truly given up on him. He had also thought she simply would not care.

And now on top of everything, he had gone and lost her.

He had to go in person, right now — he had to go!