That day would come, it would definitely come.

A year later, his reputation was already widely known. The King of Qi sent him numerous beautiful women for this child who wasn’t even eleven years old yet. So he went along with their wishes, perfectly playing the role of this debauched, shameless, and dissolute prince.

That day was Qing Xia’s ninth birthday. By Xiyu Lake on the west side of Ronghua Palace, Qi Yu, Qi Yang, Qi Xiao and several other princes came to the pavilion, wanting to trade two singing girls for the little companion reader behind Chu Li.

Two years of following him around had made everyone in the palace regard Qing Xia as Chu Li’s companion reader. As she grew older, nine-year-old Qing Xia already showed stunning beauty. Even now, he could still feel Qing Xia’s small hands gripping his sleeve tightly, treating him as her great support. She even peeked out from behind him, making faces at Qi Yu and the others, because she believed he would always protect her. She trusted him so completely and wholeheartedly. She playfully stuck out her tongue at Qi Yu and the others, stubbornly saying: “When I grow up, I guarantee I’ll be prettier than your singing girls.”

But what could he do? He was only eleven years old. In Qi, he had no friends, relatives, power, or status. He was isolated like a tree in the ocean, with no place to take root. Just like that, he nonchalantly waved his hand at Qi Yu with a smile: “If Your Highness likes her, she’s yours.”

He could never forget those eyes then, could never forget the child’s small hand gripping his tightly, could never forget how scorching hot the weather was that day. He ran frantically down the long, bright corridor like a desperate leopard. He told himself: I will eventually take back everything I’ve lost, I will eventually crush all those who bullied me underfoot, I will eventually bring Qing Xia back to my side, I will eventually…

But in the end, he wouldn’t. Time passed just like that. He had tried to run back to the pavilion, but when facing Qi Yu and the others, he could only say: “Don’t forget to send the singing girls to my palace.”

He told himself it was just some children, just some pranks.

But he also knew it wasn’t merely a child’s boring game. On that day, what he lost was the most precious trust.

That day, Qing Xia’s eyes were so bright. Her face was covered with black mud that the boys had smeared on her as a prank. She was tied tightly to a big tree, mouth wide open, crying loudly. While crying, she kept shouting to him – she said, “Brother Li, Brother Li, help Xia’er…”

In the end, the person who went to help her wasn’t him. Qi’an was already Great Qi’s Crown Prince then. He took his place, pulling the small girl into his arms and shouting at his fleeing brothers: “No one is allowed to bully her anymore!”

After that day, Teacher Zhuang truly decided to help him escape Qi and return to Chu to take the throne. To prepare for this decision, they spent ten years.

When leaving his palace, Teacher Zhuang turned back, his eyes carrying depths like the ocean. He nodded faintly, his voice heavy yet ethereal: “A person who can abandon everything will surely obtain the entire world.”

This was why Zhuang Dianru was willing to help him, and it was the greatest turning point in his life. Simply because he was ruthless enough, able to let go.

Chu Li leaned against the door frame, immersed in his memories. All of time whistled past his ears – whose heart was left behind in that distant past?

The sun gradually set. The maids gathered outside the door but didn’t dare pass Chu Li to come in and light the lamps. Qing Xia had to shift her body, raising her head from the beauty’s rest. She smiled faintly at Chu Li, her clear black and white eyes as calm as autumn water, her face carrying a gentle radiance. As if just noticing him, she smiled and said: “You’re back.”

“Mm.” Chu Li responded, then slowly walked into the inner room. The maids behind him quickly rushed in and lit all the lamps in the room as if granted amnesty.

Bright candlelight shone on both their faces, creating a faint, hazy atmosphere. Qing Xia stood up and naturally walked forward, untying the straps of Chu Li’s armor, then walked behind him to remove his armor piece by piece, placing them on a small table nearby. Her movements were very natural, as if practiced for many years, without a trace of awkwardness.

Actually, she had long since noticed Chu Li standing at the door, but some emotion surging in her heart made her reluctant to get up and face this man. The somewhat silent atmosphere echoing between them finally broke through Qing Xia’s extraordinary patience. She wasn’t a naive, ignorant ancient woman, nor a harem concubine seeking favor. Having inexplicably arrived in this strange dynasty, she seemed to have been drifting with the current, with no direction of her own. After serving in the military for her country for so many years, this was the first time she felt such a lack of belonging.

Staying in the imperial palace might really be a kind of ostrich complex – thinking that if she didn’t go out to look, the outside world would still be filled with towering skyscrapers? Or was it like a newborn duckling, treating the first place it saw as home?

The maids came in from outside, setting out dishes on the small table – a dazzling array filling the entire table, yet it couldn’t arouse any appetite. Chu Li held his chopsticks, looking somewhat dazedly at Qing Xia across from him. After thinking, he picked up a piece of bamboo shoot and put it in his mouth without tasting it. Not raising his head, he said faintly: “Why did you save Concubine Dan?”

Qing Xia hadn’t expected him to ask this. Holding her bowl, shoveling rice into her mouth, she said: “I didn’t pay attention to who she was at the time, just saw that she was still breathing.”

Chu Li’s expression didn’t change, as if casually asking: “Why weren’t you in the palace when the fire started? Where did you go?”

Qing Xia’s movements stalled, her lips turning slightly pale. After thinking, she said directly: “I wanted to try getting out to report to you, but before I even left the East Flowery Gate, I was almost discovered by guards, so I sneaked back.”

“Oh?” Chu Li’s voice rose slightly. He raised his eyebrows and said: “The historian Lin Mubai from the Literature and History Hall reported that a palace maid helped him escape from the palace. That person – wasn’t it you?”

Qing Xia frowned, somewhat puzzled as she murmured: “Lin Mubai? The chief historian Master Lin from the Literature and History Hall?”

“That’s him. You really have seen him?”

“Of course not.” Qing Xia raised her head, her eyes clear as water. “I just read his ‘Records of Great Qin’ recently and thought he had some literary talent, so I remembered the name. For a mere scholar to risk great danger leaving the palace to report – he’s truly a loyal minister.”

“Yes, this is a tremendous achievement. Whoever did it should be greatly rewarded.” Chu Li spoke with hidden meaning, saying in a deep voice: “Qing Xia, you know martial arts. Why have I never seen you practice before?”

Qing Xia knew this must be from when she revealed herself while Qi’an came to rescue her from the prison. This suspicion must have been weighing on his mind, investigating secretly. He might even suspect her involvement in Qi’an’s escape – all trouble caused by that scholar Lin. Qing Xia looked at Chu Li without expression, her voice flat, carrying a distance that suggested she didn’t want to say more: “I learned a little when I was in Qi’s imperial palace, but never had a chance to use it.”

Having been here for nearly a month, Qing Xia knew about eighty to ninety percent of Zhuang Qingxia’s affairs. She had been the military intelligence department’s most outstanding agent, best at finding useful intelligence from traces. Moreover, Zhuang Qingxia’s story was known by everyone here and wasn’t really a secret. Seeing her say this, Chu Li indeed didn’t want to continue. He lowered his head to eat quietly, saying nothing more.

At this moment, footsteps sounded outside the door. Soon, the voice of Chu Li’s personal eunuch Rong Yuan came from outside: “Your Highness, someone reports that Noble Concubine Xiao is still kneeling outside the Eastern Palace main hall.”

“Clack!” Chu Li’s silver chopsticks fell onto the small table. Qing Xia looked up puzzled and saw Chu Li’s brow tightly furrowed, silently contemplating. After a long while, he picked up his chopsticks and continued eating, making no response to the voice outside.

But his other hand under the table clenched tightly.

Qing Xia sighed. The most heartless place in the world was the imperial family. Behind the pinnacle of power lay thick blood, tears, and countless bones. To stand at the peak required supreme courage and intense ruthlessness. Chu Li, aren’t you ready yet? To obtain glory and power also requires paying a price.

Qing Xia stood up, called for a maid, put on gorgeous palace dress, draped on a large fur coat, walked out of the bedchamber, and said to Rong Yuan: “Prepare the palanquin.”

“Your Majesty, where are you going?”

“The Eastern Palace main hall.”

The night wind was indeed somewhat cold. After walking for about half the time it takes to drink tea, Qing Xia finally saw this woman who was currently the most noble in all of South Chu.

Thinking of Chu Li sitting in Lanting Hall looking so desolate, a trace of coldness rose in Qing Xia’s heart. This was Chu Li’s birth mother, the virtuous queen mother who had actively sent her own son to Qi as a hostage years ago, the traitorous rebel who had conspired last night to overthrow her own son’s position.

Was the harem a place for killing people? Why would it nurture such a woman? Qing Xia was followed by a large group of personal guards and attendants, sitting in a phoenix carriage cast of gold, looking at this ruthless woman who repeatedly reached out against her own son. She suddenly didn’t know what to say.

“What are you trying to accomplish by kneeling here now?”

Qing Xia’s voice was cold, carrying a desolate flavor in the wind. Noble Concubine Xiao seemed to have knelt until somewhat numb. This woman approaching forty had fair skin and picturesque features, looking as enchanting as a thirty-year-old. Her head of black hair had a kind of broken beauty in the air, like butterfly wings dancing in the wind. She slowly raised her pale, delicate face, her whitened lips slightly parted, and spoke coldly to Qing Xia: “Where is he? Tell him to come see me.”