Without a ferry, the idea of swimming this stretch of water was simply beyond the imagination of any ordinary person — to say nothing of doing so in winter.

Xie Changgeng had nothing but the exceptional water ability he had cultivated since his youth navigating the waterways, and driven by a momentary impulse, he had simply plunged in and swum across.

Young and strong as he was, he still had to float and rest several times along the way to recover his strength. Yet by the time he finally completed that long crossing and felt solid ground beneath his feet, he was already utterly drained, very nearly collapsed.

He lay facedown on a stretch of wild grass at the water’s edge, dripping from head to foot without a single dry spot on him. He closed his eyes and rested for a moment. When some measure of strength had returned, he dragged himself up with great difficulty, worked his hands and feet — nearly stiff with cold from the lake water — back to some semblance of warmth, and then, guided by memories of years past, made his way toward the Medicine Retreat.

The mouth of the mountain path leading to the Medicine Retreat was also guarded by sentries.

He went around them, climbed up from the back of the mountain, and drew close to the Medicine Retreat.

Not far ahead, a sentry blocked his path.

He drew the dagger tucked at his waist and crept silently up behind the guard.

The guard seemed to sense something was wrong, but before he could turn around, a hand had already locked around his throat from behind in a vice-like grip.

Xie Changgeng was on the verge of cutting the guard’s throat, but his hand stopped.

He raised his eyes, glanced at the building just ahead, hesitated for a moment, then changed course — driving a sharp blow to the back of the man’s neck instead, knocking him unconscious, and dragging him into the undergrowth.

It was already well past midnight.

On this night, for the first and only time in his life, he had done something so reckless it had scarcely given a thought to the consequences.

The silhouette standing behind the window — he recognized it at a single glance. It was the person he had come tonight at any cost to see.

He had finally made it to her side as he had wished. He was about to show himself when he saw Nanny Mu approach, seemingly urging her to rest.

Her silhouette disappeared from behind the window, and the window was closed.

Xie Changgeng held his breath and stood still against the wall beside the darkened window, waiting for Nanny Mu to leave.

The footsteps grew gradually distant. That talkative, devoted old servant had finally gone.

But just beyond the wall, in the night shadows, that silhouette had gone utterly still.

Xie Changgeng’s heart was pounding wildly — pounding like a drum on the verge of being beaten apart.

His clothes were damp and cold, clinging tight to his skin. His back was soaking wet — impossible to tell whether it was water from the lake or the layer upon layer of cold sweat that had seeped out of him.

From the moment he had thrown himself into the water and swum here with no thought for anything else, he had been desperate to sprout wings and see her at once.

For so long, so many doubts had accumulated in his heart. He had always suppressed them, telling himself they did not matter. Then, several days ago, he had recalled the very first time they had met. He could no longer endure it. He knew he had to have her answers — without concealment, without evasion — to put an end to the long torment and confusion that had taken root in his heart.

It was this single driving force that had compelled him to be here, in this moment, at this place.

What he had not anticipated was the scene that had awaited him — catching him completely off guard.

The words she had spoken about him, one by one, were each like a blade aimed straight at his heart. He could not refute them. They even produced in him a shame like being stripped bare before a crowd, left utterly exposed with nowhere to hide.

But he could bear that. He had never been a good man, nor had he ever pretended to be. What followed — the other thing he overheard — was a genuine shock to him.

He had always known she despised him.

But had he not happened to overhear it tonight, he would probably never have known — that her feelings toward him were far, far more than mere despise. She had come to hate him.

To what depth of hatred must a woman have sunk before she would do something so devastating to herself — for the sole purpose of severing all ties with him?

Once, he had believed that suffering his wife’s betrayal would be the greatest defeat of his life.

In that period of those days, already past, that he could not release, every time this thought arose, he had felt rage, jealousy, resentment — and perhaps, a trace of pain.

Yet compared to her decision to ruin her own purity, to bear the stain herself, just to cut herself free of him — all his previous rage, jealousy, resentment, and that trace of pain seemed so utterly absurd.

Tonight he finally understood what it meant to have a blade buried in one’s heart.

He could not take a single step forward, nor could he make himself walk away.

The cold, damp wind blew past him again and again.

He seemed to have been frozen solid in that winter’s night, facing the window before him — shut tight against him — motionless in the surrounding blackness, until a commotion broke out at his back.

“There is an intruder! Protect the Imperial Princess!”

Urgent footsteps came flooding in from every direction.

With that, a sharp pain seared across his back — as though a savage beast with razor-edged teeth had clamped down and bitten hard.

He turned his head slowly and saw that behind him, a sea of torchlight had blazed to life, and a dozen or more guards had surged into the courtyard.

Several guards had drawn their bows and loosed the volley of arrows into him.

Mu Fulan threw on her outer robe and pushed open the door.

The courtyard was dotted with flickering torches and crowded with guards whose faces were taut with alarm.

She looked toward the intruder who had been surrounded — and froze.

She was looking at Xie Changgeng.

He stood in a strange, rigid posture — soaking wet from head to foot, as though he had crawled up out of the water. His face was white as paper, drained of all color.

As though he heard her come out, he turned his neck stiffly, his face swinging toward her. His gaze found her face and stayed there.

He looked at her for a moment, then with great difficulty raised his foot, seeming to want to walk toward her. But the instant his shoulder moved, his face contorted with pain, his body swayed, and he went down.

Only then did Mu Fulan see clearly — several arrows had been driven deep into his back.

Crimson blood was slowly seeping from his soaking clothes, spreading down onto the ground.

“This subordinate failed in his duty to guard the perimeter — the intruder slipped through, and the Imperial Princess has been frightened! This subordinate deserves death for this offense!”

The captain of tonight’s guard had not seen Xie Changgeng before and did not recognize him. Seeing the intruder subdued, he hurried to kneel before Mu Fulan.

After a long moment without a response from her, he raised his eyes and saw that she was staring at the intruder unconscious on the ground with a strange expression on her face. Taking it for shock at what had happened, he quickly ordered his men to move the intruder away at once.

Mu Fulan closed her eyes briefly, then said: “Carry him in.”

Everyone froze.

“Carry him in!”

Mu Fulan raised her voice and repeated the command.

……

Like waking from an endlessly long dream, when Xie Changgeng came back to consciousness, there was a brief, fleeting instant in which he had no idea where he was or what had happened.

But very quickly, the moments before he lost consciousness came rushing back to him one by one.

He opened his eyes rapidly. He found himself lying in a small, square room — not large, furnished with quiet simplicity, the air carrying the faint, clean fragrance of medicinal herbs.

He understood.

This was still the Medicine Retreat.

He endured the pain from his back and struggled to sit up. Just as he was about to get out of bed, the door opened and in walked a young man with an honest, good-natured face.

He recognized him — this young man should be A’Da, the Medicine Retreat’s assistant boy, whom he had seen when he had visited the Medicine Elder years ago.

A’Da was very pleased to see him awake. He set down what he was carrying, came forward to steady him, and asked him to lie back down, saying he would first change his dressings and then let him eat something.

“You’ve been asleep for so long, Sir — you must be hungry! I’ve already made porridge for you.”

Xie Changgeng smiled, nodded, and obediently lay back down slowly, asking: “How long have I been asleep?”

He spoke and heard his own voice — hoarse and ragged, like a cracked bronze gong being struck, grating to the ear in the extreme.

A’Da said: “The arrow wounds in your back are serious, Sir, and you developed a fever on top of it. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

Xie Changgeng closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and turned his head to look toward the door behind him, saying quietly: “Was it the Imperial Princess who saved me? Where is she now?”

A’Da said: “The Imperial Princess left last night and took everyone with her. There’s no one in the Medicine Retreat today but you and me, Sir. The Imperial Princess ordered me to wait upon you. Before she left, she instructed me that given your constitution, you should wake today. As long as you wake, you’ll be out of danger. She also asked me to tell you, Sir, that you should rest here for a few days — once the fever breaks, you’ll be able to leave on your own. She has already arranged for a boat to be left for you at the pier at the foot of the mountain, ready for your use at any time.”

Xie Changgeng fell silent and said no more. He let A’Da change his dressings, and when that was done, he quietly ate a bowl of porridge. Then he put on his clothes and got out of bed. The moment his feet touched the ground, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and his body swayed slightly.

A’Da quickly moved to support him.

“Where are you going, Sir? You just woke up and you’re still quite ill — please get back into bed. Whatever you’d like to eat, just tell me…”

Xie Changgeng closed his eyes, steadied himself, waited for the dizziness to pass, then walked out of the room and stood for a moment before stepping out through the gate and heading away.

He wanted to leave, and A’Da had no power to stop him forcibly. But seeing how wan his expression was and how unsteady his steps were, recalling the Imperial Princess’s parting words — that he should take good care of the gentleman — A’Da did not dare let him wander about alone, so he simply followed close beside him.

The mountain was deserted and empty. Apart from the two of them, there was not a soul to be seen.

He left by the back gate, broke a branch from a tree by the path to use as a walking stick, and leaning on it, followed the narrow mountain trail at a slow pace downward. Not a single word passed his lips along the way. At last he came to the ancient cypress growing at the edge of the cliff and stopped.

The old cypress had gnarled, sweeping branches, dark and canopied like a vault of green. In its forked boughs, a dozen or so birds’ nests of varying sizes were nestled.

It was daytime. The adult birds had gone out foraging, not a trace of them visible. Only a few small birds remained in the nests, filling the air with tender, bright, chirping calls.

He simply stood there in stillness, looking up at those fledgling birds in the nests, as though lost in thought. After a long while, he slowly walked over and sat down at the base of the tree, leaning his back against the trunk, and closed his eyes.

Sunlight filtered down through the gaps in the canopy above, falling on that pale, paper-white face of his. He did not move, his head tilted slightly to one side, as though he had drifted off to sleep.

A’Da did not dare make a sound, and quietly kept him company from the side. After a long while, he noticed the man’s lashes stir gently. He opened his eyes, turned his face, and said quietly to him: “Go and tell her — if she doesn’t intend to come here to see me, I will enter the city and go to the royal palace to see her myself.”