“No, he’s talking nonsense.” Zhang Zhixu turned his head away with irritation, then let his gaze drift back to her from the corner of his eye. A sudden mischievous impulse took hold. “Well, not entirely nonsense. Those elders at home are quite displeased with you. They say if you and I don’t make a clean break soon, next time it won’t be my back under the whip — it’ll be yours.”

Chen Baoxiang was, indeed, visibly shaken.

He let out a low, amused sound and fixed her with a stern look: “So, Lord Chen — do you still dare to cling to me?”

The atmosphere in the room was still relatively light, and even Ningsu standing nearby understood it was a joke — he quietly curved the corner of his mouth.

But the person before him seemed to take it entirely to heart. After a moment of genuine deliberation, she abruptly rose and clasped her hands in a formal bow: “Since everyone has said as much, I have no wish to lose my life, nor to cause you trouble. A clean break it is. Lord Zhang, I am deeply grateful for the long care you have shown me, but our fates run shallow — this is farewell.”

Zhang Zhixu: “…”

He stared blankly at the figure rising to her feet. He stared blankly as she turned and walked toward the door. Even as her silhouette disappeared beyond the threshold, he still had not managed to come back to himself.

Did she not understand plain speech?

How could she have actually, truly made a clean break just like that?

Belatedly collecting himself, he struggled upright and made his way along the balustrade and table edges to the doorway — only to find that the corridor outside was already completely empty.

The dressing table he had knocked against rocked back and forth, and the bronze mirror atop it rolled off and shattered on the floor.

In that instant, countless images from the past erupted and scattered alongside the fragments — the moonlight in a prison cell, a bathing tub at the peak of an immortals’ mountain, a garment from the Wanbao Tower, a meal passed through the gatehouse of Xun Yuan, the flying leaf token he had caught afterward, an accidental kiss inside a carriage, two wooden buddha figures pressed together in clasped hands…

All of it — every last piece — shattered and flew apart, swept away by the howling wind, dissolved into the soft, relentless rain.

It seemed as though no one but him had ever thought any of those things worth keeping.

The medicine jar with a scoop taken out of it still sat on the table — a gaping hollow in the surface, as though a pig had rooted through it.

Zhang Zhixu looked at it with cold eyes and reached out toward the liquor.

But the wine jar that had been sitting on the table was nowhere to be found. The wine vessel that had still held half a measure was now completely empty — drained by her to the last drop.

Not even the smallest reminder left behind.

He withdrew his gaze and settled back onto the bed, thinking with perfect calm: it was fine. This was probably just the ending that great dream was always meant to have.

Night fell, the sound of rain did not cease, and Zhang Zhixu sat just like that with his arms around his knees — his sleeves lifting and billowing in the wind, his silhouette solitary and still.

……

Then, suddenly, an arm reached toward him — a slender arm clad in a narrow celadon sleeve.

He looked up sharply.

Chen Baoxiang was damp all over, as though she had run somewhere and then run back again. The scent of rain and wild grass still clung to her.

“You…”

“Good day, my lord. My name is Chen Baoxiang.” She grinned, her eyes bright as she looked at him and smiled. “I have not been long at the Military Enforcement Bureau — I hope you will look after me.”

Zhang Zhixu: “…”

This was her idea of a clean break?

They break clean, and then just start over with a fresh introduction?

Outside, the night grew darker and darker, yet the candles in the room burned brighter and brighter, casting clear light on the irreverence and sincerity mingled together in her eyes.

He felt that Chen Baoxiang was toying with him.

She could turn and walk away without a moment’s hesitation, and she could turn back and smile at him without a word of explanation. Either path was open to her. Only he would be left standing in place, unable to move.

He could not have said whether what churned in his chest was fury or relief — the jumbled emotions crashed together in a heap, and when he finally spoke, his tone came out even harsher than he intended: “What do you want.”

Chen Baoxiang crouched beside his bed, opened the oiled paper parcel in her hands, and held up a bowl: “Hearing that you were badly injured, I, as your subordinate, naturally had to come and check on you — and I brought you some pork buns and millet porridge. Eating well helps wounds heal faster.”

He glared at the food, wanting to snap that he wouldn’t touch it. Then he noticed that even the cloth at her shoulder was soaked through.

Would it kill her to say she had gone out to buy him food? Now he couldn’t even figure out what expression to make — he’d look like a petty ingrate with no grace.

Zhang Zhixu pulled a pork bun toward himself with a scowl.

His appetite had been very poor lately, and his head had been aching badly with regularity. Whatever the kitchen prepared, he would invariably feel like vomiting shortly after eating.

The pork filling in the bun was not the freshest on the nose — but the flavor was familiar. It was the shop at the third-street corner of Heyue Quarter.

Heyue Quarter was far from Mingzhu Tower, and the rain outside was heavy. To go and come back — of course her clothes would get soaked.

He dropped his gaze, and with great resentment, tossed her one of his own cloaks. Then, without a word, he ate through two pork buns and drank most of the bowl of porridge.

Remarkably, he had no urge to be sick.

The tension between his brows eased slightly, and he let out a quiet, faint sound.

“Your elder brother came to find me this morning, by the way.” She was gnawing through the other two buns, and delivered the most alarming piece of news with complete nonchalance.

Zhang Zhixu had been on the verge of maintaining his dignity a little longer. At these words, his expression shifted entirely: “He gave you trouble?”

“No.” She smiled. “He came to give me money.”

Zhang Ting’an was a military man through and through — straightforward in all things to the point of bluntness. Where their father had only sent someone to warn her, this elder brother had come in person with men at his back, surrounded her small courtyard, and slapped a thick stack of banknotes down before her.

“Leave Shangjing. All of this is yours.”

Chen Baoxiang had taken them up on the spot and counted through them — denominations of one thousand taels each. Zhang Ting’an had given her twenty of them.

“I was overjoyed. I said I’d never known I was worth so much — and do you know what your elder brother said?”

She straightened her back, stroked an imaginary full beard along her jaw, and imitated him in a rough, booming voice: “It’s not that you’re worth this much. I’m just afraid Fengqing would offer more.”

Zhang Zhixu: “…”

He turned away: “The banknotes — you kept them, yet you’re still in Shangjing?”

“Who told you I kept them?” She rounded on him with wide eyes. “Is what’s between you and me something that can be offset by a mere twenty thousand taels of silver?”

“If it truly can’t be offset, the word ‘mere’ is what you should have used.”

Chen Baoxiang: “…”

She let out a sigh: “You know how much I love silver. Twenty thousand taels — that’s enough for me to live comfortably for several lifetimes. It is genuinely far from mere.”

“Then why didn’t you take it.”

“Because I can’t bear to part from you, my lord.” She put on her most shameless smile.

Zhang Zhixu set down the porridge bowl and finally looked at her with full attention: “I was angry before — furious that you hadn’t been sincere with me. But it was only anger. I never hated you enough to want you dead. So, Chen Baoxiang — if you encounter trouble, you can still come to me.”

“As long as you say it, I will not leave you to face it alone.”

No deception. No concealment.

As long as you reach out your hand, I will answer.