After a full day of rain, the walls were cold and damp, yet not as cold as her heart at this moment.

Luo Sheng even felt she was still in a dream.

Zhaohua was dead.

Once, she had thought Zhaohua had died long ago, perishing alongside Shufeng and Jiangxue in that catastrophe twelve years past.

But later she learned Zhaohua was still alive, having become Wei Qiang’s concubine.

For caution’s sake, she had also considered the possibility that Zhaohua’s heart had turned toward Wei Qiang.

It wasn’t that she was overly suspicious, but resurrection from the dead was too rare, and what they plotted for the future was too momentous—she couldn’t afford to be careless.

Yet even contemplating this possibility, she had been grateful Zhaohua was alive.

As long as someone lived, even if their hearts were no longer aligned, it was better than them being gone.

Then, upon arriving at Beihe, on this boundless vast grassland, she and Zhaohua had successfully recognized each other.

But she never imagined that their reunion would be their final farewell.

What could pierce the heart more deeply than regaining what was lost, only to lose it again?

Luo Sheng leaned against the bone-chillingly cold wall, her eyes hollow and tearless, gazing blankly at the old tree in the courtyard.

The old tree had already shed most of its leaves, looking bleak and desolate.

A lively figure came running over.

“Miss, why are you standing here?”

What entered Luo Sheng’s field of vision was Hong Dou’s pretty, youthful face.

Luo Sheng moved her eyes, her expression wooden.

Hong Dou blinked, asking carefully, “Miss, have you been crying?”

Another voice immediately followed, “Miss—”

Another familiar face rushed into view, and only then did Luo Sheng’s gaze gradually regain clarity.

“Xiu Gu.” She called out.

Xiu Yue approached uneasily.

The Princess’s condition seemed very wrong.

Luo Sheng extended her hand.

Without hesitation, Xiu Yue reached out and grasped that hand.

The icy coldness at contact made her heart sink.

Hong Dou watched wide-eyed as the two clasped hands, already stunned.

When had Miss become so close to Xiu Gu?

Miss had never held her hand like this.

She wanted to speak up and needle Xiu Yue a bit, but the invisible yet palpable heavy atmosphere flowing around them made the little maid wisely hold her tongue.

“Xiu Gu.” Luo Sheng called out again.

“This servant is here.”

Hong Dou’s eyes suddenly widened.

Xiu Gu wasn’t part of the Grand Commander’s household—how dare she address herself as “this servant” to Miss?

This clearly showed she’d been plotting to rise in status all along!

The little maid stared at Xiu Yue with full vigilance.

But Xiu Yue’s eyes held only the Princess.

“Stay here today. Don’t go out.”

Xiu Yue’s unease grew, but she had always obeyed the Princess’s words unconditionally.

“Remember, wait for me to return.” Luo Sheng squeezed Xiu Yue’s hand forcefully, then released it and called out, “Hong Dou.”

“This servant is here!” Hong Dou responded loudly.

“Come with me to the hunt.”

Hong Dou cast a triumphant glance at Xiu Yue and hurried into the room to fetch a cloak, “Miss, it’s rather cool today—”

But she discovered Luo Sheng had already vanished without a trace.

“Where did Miss go?”

Xiu Yue paid no attention to Hong Dou’s words, walking numbly toward the small kitchen.

Hong Dou scratched her head and quickly chased after her.

Today both Miss and Xiu Gu seemed rather strange.

After resting for a day, everyone had recovered their enthusiasm for hunting and gathered early in one place.

Luo Sheng gripped the reins tightly and looked around, not seeing Wei Qiang.

A cold gleam flashed in her eyes as she nearly bit her lower lip until it bled.

The hunting horn sounded, and horses galloped off toward the boundless grassland.

Among them, a jujube-red horse charged fastest, bearing a slender black figure on its back.

Wei Han watched that figure galloping ahead, slapped his white horse beneath him, and chased after her like an arrow from the bow.

The two horses gradually drew close.

Wei Han felt the jujube-red horse’s speed was somewhat too fast, making him worry it might throw the young lady from its back.

The great white horse, however, felt this full-speed gallop was most satisfying, and even let out an encouraging long neigh toward the jujube-red horse.

The jujube-red horse ran even faster.

Wei Han gave the great white horse a hard slap.

The great white horse raised its hooves and whinnied, thinking it had received its master’s praise.

The two horses pursued each other, gradually leaving everyone’s sight.

Ahead still lay grassland stretching to the horizon. Luo Sheng pulled the reins, and the jujube-red horse’s speed gradually slowed.

The great white horse followed suit in reducing speed, puzzled as it nudged its companion’s head with its large mouth.

Wei Han’s intuition told him Miss Luo was in a poor mood today. He gave the great white horse a warning pat, signaling it not to cause trouble.

The jujube-red horse finally stopped.

Luo Sheng dismounted, released the reins, and walked forward aimlessly.

The grassy ground bloomed with countless unknown wildflowers, weaving vast carpets that seemed endless. Not far off were a babbling stream and waterfall like white silk.

The plunging waterfall pounded against giant rocks—the greatest sound in this small corner of the world originated from there.

Luo Sheng walked step by step to the waterfall.

Splashing water droplets fell on her hair and clothing hem, bone-chillingly cold.

Someone stood beside her, a concerned voice speaking, “Miss Luo, what’s wrong?”

Luo Sheng gazed at the waterfall for a long while, then suddenly turned her head to look at him, “Does Your Highness remember promising me a favor?”

Wei Han nodded, “Miss Luo said that when you needed it, I should help you do one thing within my capabilities.”

At this point, his lips curved slightly upward, “Miss Luo need not consider whether it exceeds my capabilities—just state your request.”

Thinking of the okra baked eggs sent yesterday, the man’s gaze unconsciously became gentle.

He had sent that basket of June persimmons over merely as compensation for eating one of Miss Luo’s June persimmons, never expecting Miss Luo would use the June persimmons to make a new dish and think to send him some.

The man gazed at the young lady, his tone warm and certain, “I’m very willing to help Miss Luo.”

Luo Sheng shifted her gaze to the distance, her voice so soft it was nearly drowned by the waterfall’s sound, “Has Your Highness heard? The Crown Prince’s concubine, Selected Attendant Yu… died of acute illness yesterday.”

Even at this moment, speaking these words felt dreamlike to her.

She had lost too much and possessed too little. To admit the fact of losing another important person was too difficult for her.

“What does Miss Luo need me to do?” Wei Han looked at her and asked.

“I’d like to ask Your Highness to help me find Selected Attendant Yu, whether it’s her person… or her corpse.”

How could she be satisfied with merely hearing from Grand Commander Luo that Selected Attendant Yu had died of acute illness?

The living must be seen; the dead must have their corpses found.

Prince Kaiyang knew some of her secrets that couldn’t be shared with outsiders, yet had no intention of exposing her. He could be said to be currently her best option for seeking help.

And she had promised to give Prince Kaiyang the medicinal catalyst—asking him to do one thing was part of their agreed-upon transaction.

In this life, she bore burdens too heavy; she didn’t want to bear others, not even debts of gratitude.

Wei Han looked at her and said only one word, “Alright.”

“Then I’ll await Your Highness’s news.” Seeing him agree so readily without asking numerous questions, Luo Sheng’s mood, terrible to the extreme, didn’t worsen further. She turned and walked toward the leisurely strolling jujube-red horse.

The great white horse was swishing its tail, helping the jujube-red horse drive away mosquitoes.

Luo Sheng mercilessly interrupted the two horses’ tender moment and vaulted onto the horse’s back.