At the beginning of the thirtieth year of Jianyuan in Daqi, winter departed exceptionally early from Bianjing. In the first month, winter jasmine flowers bloomed in great profusion.

Yet during this clear and warm season, the servants of Duke Yingguo’s mansion were rushing in and out—fetching charcoal fires, carrying medicinal soups, summoning physicians—the entire household busy in a frenzy from top to bottom.

For no other reason than that their young lady had fallen ill again.

The origin of this young lady’s illness had to be traced back three years.

Three years ago in spring, the young lady was granted an unsatisfactory marriage by the Emperor and had to comply with the imperial decree to travel to the frontier and marry into the Huo family of Qingyang.

Seeing her melancholy day after day, the Duke took her to Peach Blossom Valley to lift her spirits. Unexpectedly on this trip, the young lady suffered abduction by bandits, carelessly fell from a cliff, and nearly lost her life.

The originally scheduled wedding date had to be postponed, and the young lady consequently recuperated for over three months before she could barely get out of bed.

During that time, the Emperor had been very concerned about the young lady’s health. Upon hearing her injuries were mostly healed, he immediately raised the marriage matter again, planning to discuss a new wedding date with the Duke and Grand Princess.

But with the young lady’s frail body at that time, how could she withstand long-distance travel? If she went, the three months of rest would likely be completely wasted.

The Duke was so angry smoke came from all seven orifices, cursing the imperial family’s heartlessness. Though the Grand Princess did not express her position clearly, in the deep of night she quietly sat at the young lady’s bedside sighing repeatedly.

Fortunately at this time, a turning point came.

The Empress Dowager passed away from illness. On her deathbed she requested the Emperor issue an edict that the nation need not hold grand national mourning, but demanded that her most beloved granddaughter must observe mourning for her for three years.

This meant the young lady could not marry for three years.

All discerning people could see this thoughtful intention. The young lady wept before the Empress Dowager’s spirit tablet and voluntarily petitioned, begging the Emperor to allow her to go to Gong County to guard the imperial grandmother’s tomb for one year.

The Duke and Grand Princess knew that although the Emperor was bound by ritual propriety and filial duty and should not openly defy the Empress Dowager’s dying wishes, in his heart he had already developed extreme dissatisfaction with Duke Yingguo’s mansion. Seeing the stormy situation in the capital, the couple tacitly approved this matter, thinking it would be good to let the young lady avoid trouble in that isolated place.

The Emperor, firstly not wanting to openly break with Duke Yingguo’s mansion, and secondly seeing the young lady temporarily unable to marry and having become a useless “discarded piece,” also approved her petition and let her go.

However, conditions at the imperial tomb were ultimately incomparable to Bianjing. Summer and autumn were still pleasant, but winter was extremely cold and damp. At night, no matter how much charcoal fire burned, it could not warm the rooms.

The young lady had already developed chronic illness from her previous cliff fall. Under these circumstances, she soon fell ill again.

But the young lady had a resilient character—once she said something, she would do it. No matter what, she refused to return to the capital early, persisting until the next summer.

After the tomb-guarding period ended, the young lady returned to the capital. For the following two years, she mostly lived simply at the mansion, occasionally going to suburban temples to pray for the Empress Dowager and Duke Yingguo’s mansion. Though her health waxed and waned, she lived relatively peacefully and quietly.

Except for winter.

The young lady’s body became weak when exposed to cold. Every time the season of bitter cold arrived, she often fell ill for an entire season. Everyone in Duke Yingguo’s mansion was on edge with worry, fearing which illness the young lady might not survive.

Seeing this year’s winter shorter than previous years, everyone was grateful from the bottom of their hearts that heaven had eyes. But unexpectedly this time, though spring came early, the young lady did not recover.

Shen Lingzhen’s personal maid Jianjia stood before her bed, watching her brow furrow tightly even in sleep, curling into a painful ball, seeming to murmur something in low delirium.

Jianjia leaned closer to listen, hearing her call out “cold,” and quickly ran to find thicker bedding. Opening the wardrobe, she unexpectedly saw at the very bottom a sky-blue silk handkerchief.

She had no intention of examining it closely, but while rummaging she accidentally unfolded the originally neatly squared handkerchief and caught sight of its contents.

On this silk handkerchief, the lower left corner was embroidered with the character “Yu” in gold thread, and above it were two lines in small plum blossom script—

*At Yusai and Yangguan the beacon fires rise, barbarian cavalry enters Hexi. Spring is not seen, fragrant grass grows everywhere.*

*The general on horseback departs with sword, vowing not to return until Loulan is broken. What day shall dawn, when my heart is earnest?*

Jianjia blankly recalled that last spring, the young lady had indeed been secretly embroidering something while avoiding them. However, the young lady had kept it hidden at the time, and as servants they dared not overstep their bounds, naturally never investigating further.

Now it seemed that object at the time was probably this silk handkerchief.

Jianjia stared blankly at the person on the bed, suddenly understanding why this winter the young lady’s illness was especially severe, especially prolonged, unable to recover no matter what.

Shen Lingzhen happened to wake groggily at this moment, saying she wanted water.

Jianjia hurriedly rose to pour water, momentarily forgetting to close the wardrobe.

Shen Lingzhen noticed the discovery at once and smiled bitterly. Seeing this, Jianjia hastily knelt: “This servant overstepped, should not have presumed to look at the young lady’s belongings. Please punish this servant, young lady.”

Shen Lingzhen propped herself up on her elbow, still with her usual good temper, giving her a token gesture of support, leaning against the bed rail and shaking her head: “It’s fine that you know.”

Jianjia rose hesitantly: “Young lady…”

“Someone in this world must know about this silk handkerchief. Otherwise when I ‘go,’ these secrets will never see the light of day again.”

“What nonsense is the young lady saying? The young lady is still so young, still unmarried…”

Shen Lingzhen blinked gently, speaking extremely slowly: “I will not marry.”

“How can that be? Your mourning period is almost over, the Hexi battles have been won, Lord Huo is currently on his way to the capital to receive honors. The Emperor probably plans to use this opportunity to have you two wed.”

“But he is not the person I should marry.”

“Ah?”

“Lord Huo is not Lord Huo, and Lord Meng is not Lord Meng. The two of them exchanged identities thirty years ago.”

Jianjia gasped in shock.

That meant the “Meng Liuxing” of Bianjing was actually the Huo family’s second son, and the “Huo Qufei” at the frontier was actually the prince of the previous dynasty?

“Jianjia, the person I should marry, his name is Huo Liuxing…” Shen Lingzhen murmured in a hollow voice. “He should originally have been called Huo Liuxing…”

“Did the young lady know about this from the very beginning?”

Shen Lingzhen shook her head, gazing at a cuckoo bird resting on the window lattice. Thinking of something, she suddenly smiled.

——

The first time she met Huo Liuxing was three years ago in summer, at Gong County.

On a day with blazing sun, she first arrived at the imperial tomb. Wearing a veiled hat, she descended from the carriage, and through the light gauze saw a group of tomb-guarding soldiers hurrying over to receive her.

At the front was a tall, slender man dressed slightly more elaborately than the other soldiers. Upon reaching her, he bowed in salute and said with cupped hands: “This humble officer greets Miss Shen. Miss Shen has come from afar, the journey must have been exhausting. For the next year, your safety at this imperial tomb will be this humble officer’s responsibility.”

She nodded at him through her veil without speaking, but inwardly grew curious about this person’s identity. Hearing his speech and manner were unusual, unlike an ordinary soldier’s background, she thought that since they would be together day and night for a year, it would be better to know his background.

The maid soon inquired and brought her the news, telling her that this person was actually that prince of the previous dynasty.

“Why would a prince of the previous dynasty be sent here to guard the tomb?” she asked in puzzlement.

“This servant heard that at age fifteen, during a spring hunt attended by many nobles, he accidentally caused the current Crown Prince to fall from his horse and be injured, provoking the Emperor’s great fury. Afterward he was punished to come here and guard the tomb for life.”

So he had already been in this isolated place for over ten years.

Perhaps because at that time Shen Lingzhen also happened to be disheartened by her imperial uncle’s coldness, hearing of his circumstances, she inevitably felt a sense of shared misfortune. In the following days she also learned he and her betrothed were cousins, which made her pay even more attention to him.

In the scorching heat, she copied scriptures in the shaded bamboo pavilion, watching him lead the soldiers in rotating patrols under the blazing sun, and had the maids brew lychee syrup water to send to everyone to quench their thirst.

The first time, all the soldiers were surprised. Because before she came, everyone had already passed their days like this, day after day, year after year, for so long that they’d grown accustomed to the hardship of this duty, to the point they no longer found it hard.

After several times, the soldiers seemed to grow accustomed to it too. Whenever drenched in sweat, they would whisper to each other asking: When will today’s lychee syrup water arrive?

This matter was merely a small effort for Shen Lingzhen. Seeing everyone drink happily, she was pleased to have the maids arrange it. But strangely, she never saw Huo Liuxing drink even a sip of lychee syrup water.

When soldiers carried the water before him, he always waved his hand saying it wasn’t necessary, his expression unfriendly.

She found it strange, thinking perhaps he didn’t like lychee flavor—next time she could change to something he liked. So she had the maid go ask him.

That afternoon, he personally came up to the bamboo pavilion to explain to her.

His expression remained humble, but his words were somewhat severe.

He said perhaps she thought she was performing a great act of kindness, doing a great good deed, but had she considered that when she left here after one year, what would these soldiers think when they suffered in the scorching summer heat again?

They had always lived the lowest kind of life. If not for her, where would they get the conditions to enjoy these things?

It’s easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but hard to go from extravagance to frugality. Since she couldn’t grant them a lifetime of kindness, it would be better not to do these superfluous things from the start.

Her enthusiasm doused by such cold water, she felt both wronged and embarrassed. Worse, after saying these hurtful words, he didn’t wait for her to recover but left without looking back, citing “patrol” as his reason.

That night amid thunder and rain, she repeatedly recalled his words, thinking more and more that she had indeed done wrong.

Moreover, she shouldn’t blame him for his poor attitude.

Given his status, he should have lived a life of fine horses and light furs, rich clothing and fine food, yet his fate was turbulent. Born into a fallen kingdom and ruined family, in the prime of his youth he became a humble tomb guardian due to one misstep, wasting his time here.

Having suppressed himself for so many years, how could he possibly have no resentment? Speaking those harsh words to her, the Emperor’s niece, was entirely reasonable.

Shen Lingzhen tossed and turned, and the next morning, accompanied by her maid, found the solitary Huo Liuxing and apologized to him.

He seemed somewhat surprised, but quickly resumed a respectful posture, saying he dared not accept such an apology from her.

She always got along well with people. Seeing the atmosphere somewhat stiff, she joked: “Don’t be so distant. Actually speaking of it, you and I are family—I’m your cousin’s betrothed!”

After she said this, she clearly noticed his astonishment. Thinking he didn’t know about affairs in the capital, she voluntarily explained her betrothal to the Huo family.

But after hearing this, he became even more surprised, confirming with her: “You’re saying the person you’re to marry is the Second Young Master Huo of the northwestern frontier?”

Confused, she said “yes,” not understanding why he asked this.

He didn’t explain, only nodded knowingly, then used that tried-and-true “patrol” excuse to leave as a matter of course.

After that, Shen Lingzhen didn’t encounter Huo Liuxing for quite a while, and stopped sending lychee syrup water to the soldiers.

Everyone inevitably sighed and speculated whether someone among them had offended the noble lady, making her view these lowly soldiers unfavorably.

Hearing these cautious speculations, she wanted to explain to everyone but didn’t know where to start. Fortunately within a few days, the rumors subsided.

Everyone seemed to completely forget about the lychee syrup water matter, regained their spirits, each standing their post, no longer mentioning her at all.

Curious, she had the maid investigate and learned the soldiers had been lectured by Huo Liuxing. She didn’t know how he had pacified their hearts, but felt grateful nonetheless and had the maid quietly tell him thank you.

With this precedent, Shen Lingzhen became cautious in her subsequent actions, rarely having further entanglements with those soldiers, including Huo Liuxing.

She thought the days would continue like this, each minding their own business. She didn’t expect that one day in early autumn, a sudden night raid would shatter the imperial tomb’s tranquility.

When the moon rose above the treetops, a group of bandits came charging fiercely into her courtyard. She was awakened from sleep to see fighting outside.

The maid hurriedly dressed her, wanting to take her to escape elsewhere, but that group of agile bandits went straight past everyone, abducted her onto a horse, and took her toward the deep mountains.

The nightmare of her previous abduction still vivid in her mind, Shen Lingzhen was terrified out of her wits. Just when her cries to heaven and earth went unanswered, Huo Liuxing caught up and fought these bandits.

She was too frightened at the time and couldn’t remember the battle clearly. She only remembered Huo Liuxing fighting alone against many for a long time. Finally the bandits all fell, and he staggered toward her asking: “Are you injured?”

She shook her head, having survived the ordeal. He nodded saying “that’s good,” and the next instant fell straight down before her. Only then by moonlight did she see clearly—he had multiple stab wounds, his whole body covered in blood.

Shen Lingzhen frantically checked his neck pulse and breathing, finding he wasn’t dead, only unconscious.

But she had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation in the wilderness. She wanted to examine his wounds but couldn’t remove the heavy armor. She wanted to help him up but ended up crushed beneath him, collapsing to the ground.

Both anxious and afraid, she began to cry. Fortunately she finally discovered a signal flare at his waist.

Once the flare was set off, the tomb-guarding soldiers quickly found the right location and brought them back.

The disturbance at the imperial tomb had been cleaned up. The soldiers carried the unconscious Huo Liuxing into a room.

Shen Lingzhen should have returned to her courtyard but refused to leave, saying she wanted to wait to hear about his injuries. Then she heard the soldiers inside whispering that he’d been brought back too late—they didn’t know if he could still be saved.

Her heart plummeted.

He had become like this to save her, and even his last trace of remaining consciousness had been concerned about whether she was all right. Watching basin after basin of clear water carried in, brought out as blood water, at that critical moment, saying she felt no distress would be a lie.

Shen Lingzhen stubbornly refused all persuasion and stood outside the door. One moment hearing his bleeding couldn’t be stopped, the next hearing he’d developed a high fever, she secretly blamed herself.

All she could think was that his injuries had worsened because they hadn’t received timely treatment. If only she had some skills.

Suffering like this until dawn, her head foggy, her whole body top-heavy, she still asked the soldiers every few moments whether he’d awakened.

When the sun was high in the sky, the soldiers told her his fever had broken, his life was no longer in danger, he would wake soon—please quickly return to rest.

She felt somewhat relieved and asked if she could go in to see him. She was normally proper and observant of propriety between men and women, but at that time firstly the circumstances were special, and secondly thinking Huo Liuxing hadn’t awakened yet, going into his bedroom for a glance before leaving should be acceptable, so she mentioned it.

The soldiers naturally dared not refuse and let her in.

But she hadn’t expected that just as she walked to the bedside, he woke up.

Their eyes met. She immediately felt this violated propriety and turned to leave, but unexpectedly he grabbed her wrist from behind.

Too shocked to turn around, she heard his hoarse voice from behind: “…Were you here watching over me all night?”

She struggled to pull her hand away, on one hand annoyed at his impropriety, on the other worried that struggling too much would hurt him. Finally she could only stop, turn back to explain: “No, I just came in. I was outside the door before.”

He looked at her and suddenly said without preamble: “Have you ever thought… that the person you should marry might be me?”