Behind that wall gate, a figure stood silently. It was unclear when this person had arrived, shrouded in the wall’s shadow, becoming a dark silhouette. Naturally, the face couldn’t be seen clearly, but she still recognized the person by the thin yet straight contours characteristic of youth.

Her laughter ceased, and her smile quickly vanished. She couldn’t understand how this person had come to appear here. She widened her eyes, doubting whether she had seen wrongly. The next moment, the figure moved, stepping forward and slowly approaching, walking out of the wall gate’s shadow and finally stopping under the moonlight, revealing the face.

It was that familiar countenance.

Her heartbeat suddenly quickened, remembering what she had just said, feeling somewhat uneasy and a bit embarrassed.

“I pay my respects to His Majesty.” Her voice was barely audible.

There was no response. She lowered her head and waited for a moment, then quietly raised her eyes, discovering he was looking at Jiang Hanyuan, seemingly completely unaware of her existence. She didn’t know how to respond – whether to continue waiting like this or to get up and leave on her own.

As she hesitated, finally a voice reached her ears: “You may go.”

Xiao Linhua secretly breathed a sigh of relief, understanding that he had come here to seek Jiang Hanyuan. She rose, passed by that figure, and silently walked away.

Jiang Hanyuan seemed not particularly surprised. She withdrew her gaze from the young man’s face opposite her and performed the proper courtesies.

“Third Imperial Aunt, you don’t need to—” Shu Jian rushed forward in a few steps, about to stop her, but she had already knelt in worship, respectfully and meticulously.

“Subject Jiang Hanyuan pays respects to His Majesty.” Her voice was as calm as a frozen lake surface.

Shu Jian had reached her side, his outstretched hands fell empty, stopped in mid-air, froze for a moment, then slowly withdrew.

“Third Imperial Aunt, please rise…” he said with slight awkwardness.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Jiang Hanyuan stood up.

“May I ask Your Majesty, what commands do you have in coming here?”

Shu Jian didn’t speak immediately, fell silent for a moment, then said in a low voice: “How is Third Imperial Uncle’s injury?”

“Your Majesty’s concern is appreciated. He is well.” Jiang Hanyuan replied indifferently.

Shu Jian paused: “That you could personally return for the triumphant ceremony makes me very happy… Thank you, Third Imperial Aunt…”

He looked at Jiang Hanyuan, his face breaking into a smile.

“Your Majesty’s words are too kind. This is a subject’s duty.”

The smile on Shu Jian’s face gradually froze, finally sinking into silence.

“This subject will leave the capital tomorrow. Since it’s getting late tonight, if Your Majesty has no other matters, may this subject take leave.”

She bowed, about to depart, when Shu Jian spoke: “Third Imperial Aunt, I’ve disappointed you, haven’t I…”

This voice carried a few traces of weakness, as if it had taken tremendous courage to finally emerge from his lips.

Tree shadows blocked the moonlight, and Shu Jian’s face fell into dimness, the night concealing his dejection.

“May I ask Your Majesty, in coming here tonight, are you the Emperor or are you Shu Jian?” she asked.

Shu Jian was startled, then realized her meaning.

“It’s me, it’s Shu Jian! Third Imperial Aunt, if you have anything to say, whatever it may be, you can speak!”

Jiang Hanyuan nodded.

“I don’t know when you arrived, whether you heard what I just said to the princess. I told her that your Third Imperial Uncle doesn’t blame you. This should be the purpose of your coming here tonight – you wanted to hear such words, isn’t that right?”

Shu Jian’s breathing became unsteady: “Is it true? Does Third Imperial Uncle truly not blame me?”

“It’s true.” She looked at him, responding coldly.

At first, he seemed not to dare believe it, staying still for a moment. His dim gaze seemed infused with light, and he suddenly hurried forward, walking toward her.

However, she continued, “After you return, you can finally obtain inner peace.”

“You are also a victim. Your former suspicions, betrayals, and the various harmful acts you committed were not from your true heart. It was your father emperor’s lingering ghost that forced you. It was your ministers’ power struggles that pushed you. You were compelled by circumstances, and you never truly wanted him dead. Look, even your Third Imperial Uncle doesn’t blame you. He understands you, knows you had justifiable reasons.”

“Isn’t that right?”

She looked at Shu Jian, her gaze becoming as cold and sharp as swords, her brow carrying an intimidating aura. This was the compelling edge that only those who had experienced hundreds of desert battles and tasted blood could possess.

Shu Jian’s steps seemed nailed in place. He couldn’t meet her gaze, stammering, unable to speak.

“Your Third Imperial Uncle doesn’t blame you because he not only regards you as his sovereign, but he also treats you as his student, his family, junior, and nephew. He has parental affection for you, the heart of a teacher. Your father emperor, was a completely despicable hypocrite. In terms of heartlessness, Shu Jian, you are indeed his continuation!”

“You needn’t thank me for anything. I’m different from your Third Imperial Uncle. I don’t have his magnanimity. He doesn’t blame you, but I feel indignant on his behalf. This trip back wasn’t for your triumphant ceremony. I came for my father, for the heroic spirits who sacrificed themselves for Great Wei like him, for all the soldiers who returned from bloody battles, to witness the glory that should belong to them! If I must say it has anything to do with you, then it’s also because of him – the dynasty and realm he wholeheartedly protected!”

Shu Jian’s face was already full of shame, his head hanging as he stood silently.

Jiang Hanyuan closed her eyes, took a deep breath. When the anger that had been surging in her chest gradually calmed, she opened her eyes again, the fierce aura completely gone.

“In this world, some people believe that all under heaven cannot wrong me, while others would rather have all under heaven wrong me than for me to wrong all under heaven.”

“Shu Jian, though your position is supremely exalted, not everyone wants to sit in it.”

After finishing these words, she turned to leave. When she reached the wall gate, a voice with a sob-like quality came from behind: “Third Imperial Aunt… what must I do for you to forgive me?”

Jiang Hanyuan stopped, stood silently for a moment, then turned back.

“Your Majesty, what do you need my forgiveness for? I am a general of the Great Wei. No matter what, I will inherit my late father’s aspirations and guard Great Wei’s borderlands well. That’s enough.”

She gazed at Shu Jian’s eyes that glimmered with tears in the night.

“Your imperial career is just beginning. Don’t worry, be a good emperor! If you truly feel some debt, then remember the teachings of that regent prince and don’t disappoint his expectations.”

With the night wind passing through the plum garden, she left through the wall gate and walked away.

Shu Jian stood alone in silence. After an unknown period, footsteps that seemed to return came again.

“Third Imperial Aunt—” he quickly raised his head.

It wasn’t her.

Xiao Linhua approached him carrying a lantern, her steps hesitant.

Shu Jian turned his face away in embarrassment, his back to her.

“What is it?” His voice was muffled and hoarse.

Xiao Linhua came to stand behind him, saying softly: “Your Majesty, the princess consort just gave me something, saying it was from Lord Qi and herself as a gift for Your Majesty and me… a wedding gift…”

“Since it was given to you, just keep it.” Shu Jian still hadn’t turned around.

Xiao Linhua hesitated: “But I don’t know what this is, and the princess consort didn’t say…”

Shu Jian slowly turned around.

She hung the lantern on a nearby plum branch and brought out a palm-sized brocade pouch.

The object inside didn’t look particularly remarkable, but she knew it shouldn’t be an ordinary item.

She carefully took it out and held it under the lantern light for him to see.

“It seems… to be a waist token, and there’s even Emperor Gaozu’s reign title on it?”

Shu Jian’s gaze fell upon her palm and froze.

When his imperial grandfather Emperor Wu was alive, there had been a decree token bestowed by Emperor Gaozu, cast in the shape of a tripod, capable of commanding troops and appointing officials. After his death, it was buried with him and disappeared from the world.

Yet now…

Shu Jian stared fixedly at the object in Xiao Linhua’s palm, his eyelid twitching slightly. He reached out with trembling hands, slowly took the item, examined it repeatedly, and finally confirmed without doubt.

He suddenly understood and froze again.

That tripod decree had not been buried after all.

It had been preserved.

What his imperial grandfather had been uneasy about was probably his father emperor, and people like himself – just as Third Imperial Aunt had scolded him, he was born a bad seed.

Now it had come into his hands in such a manner.

“Don’t worry, be a good emperor!” The words Jiang Hanyuan had just spoken echoed in his ears again.

Holding this decree token, he finally completely understood the meaning behind those words.

The existence of the tripod decree, rather than being a tool for commanding troops, was more like permission from his imperial grandfather.

That person had once wielded the greatest instrument of power in the realm, legitimately and righteously.

Seeing him clutching this object, staring fixedly with an expression that seemed both crying and laughing, appearing extremely eerie in the flickering lantern light, Xiao Linhua couldn’t help but feel afraid. Suppressing the urge to turn and run, she gathered courage to ask: “Your Majesty, what’s wrong with you…”

He didn’t answer, only slowly knelt to the ground. At first he didn’t move, then after a moment his shoulders began to shake slightly, shaking more and more violently. A low, suppressed sob reached her ears.

He was crying in front of her.

Xiao Linhua was stunned by this scene, at a loss for what to do, standing nearby watching blankly.

He cried inconsolably. After hesitating for a moment, she finally steadied herself, bent down, and comforted him softly: “Your Majesty, what’s wrong… please don’t cry…”

She offered her handkerchief. He suddenly stood up, his face streaked with tears, and rushed outside, his figure disappearing behind the wall gate.

Xiao Linhua came to her senses and frantically chased after him, but where was his figure to be found? As she anxiously looked left and right, she saw Princess Yongtai approach her, and was about to ask when the princess shook her head, indicating she needn’t pursue further.

“His Majesty has left.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

She glanced in the direction Shu Jian had gone, was lost in thought for a moment, then slowly spoke.

…

Shu Jian pursued Prince Qi’s mansion but was told that the princess consort had already left.

After returning, she had left, departing in the night.

Shu Jian turned around again, rode without stopping, rushed out of the city in one breath, and pursued to the banks of the Wei River.

Nearby soldiers patrolling the bridge saw the emperor arrive and hurriedly paid their respects.

“The princess consort just left, crossed the bridge.”

Shu Jian said nothing, spurred his horse onto the bridge, and continued pursuing ahead.

Once across the bridge, she would be leaving Chang’an.

Jia Xiu had been following him all night. Seeing this situation and growing anxious, he shouted: “Your Majesty! Please stop!”

Below the bridge, the Wei River surged, flowing endlessly. In the murmuring sounds of wind and water mixed together, Shu Jian slowly stopped his horse, raised his red and swollen eyes, and looked ahead.

There the night enveloped everything in pitch darkness – he could no longer see her departing figure. Further on, ever further north, lay Yanmen, Yanzhou, Youzhou – the vast northern frontier of Great Wei that had just found peace.

Jia Xiu and his men finally caught up, seeing him sitting alone on horseback, facing north, his back rigid.

He hesitated, signaled his subordinates to stop, and waited at the foot of the bridge.

After a long while, Shu Jian dismounted, arranged his robes and crown, knelt facing north, and solemnly kowtowed toward that vast, quiet, boundless night sky under the puzzled gazes of those behind him.

When finished, he mounted his horse, turned around, crossed back over the bridge, and returned to the city from which he had come.

Jiang Hanyuan had originally planned to leave the capital tomorrow. However, her desire to return home suddenly became overwhelmingly urgent.

She had been away for some time now, and he must miss her greatly, as did she.

She missed that man. The degree of her longing was unprecedented.

Here, everything that needed to be done had been completed. She could no longer bear to wait.

The long night was too lengthy.

She yearned to see his face immediately, wishing she could sprout wings and fly to his side.

Thus, driven by this burning urgency that suddenly ignited in her heart, she rode out of the city, crossed that bridge over the Wei River, and along the old road she had once taken when marrying into Chang’an, traveled through the night under the moon, returning north. The journey was dusty and arduous, frost covering the mountain passes, but her heart carried warmth. Finally, after half a month, on this day, she rushed back to Yanmen.

Unfortunately, Shu Shenhui was not there.

A deputy general said he had gone out a few days ago with the Yanmen magistrate for an inspection tour and should return in the next day or two.

With the war ended, not only had the population around Yanmen City gradually increased with people migrating from all directions, but some soldiers in the army would also transfer to farming, changing from wielding swords to holding hoes, marrying locally, and living ordinary lives thereafter. The original areas could no longer accommodate everyone, so how to settle them and open new farmland had become the next problem to solve.

His outing with the Yanmen magistrate was to survey suitable new settlement areas.

“You’ve had a long journey, General. Please rest first, and I’ll send someone with a message.”

Jiang Hanyuan knew the place he had gone to was north of Yanmen, several dozen li away.

She said there was no need, she would ride there herself.

She left the city, traveled for a while, and on a dirt road saw a group of several dozen people approaching from a distance. These were newly arrived settlers.

The group gradually drew near – about ten households with their families, apparently migrating from the same place. Though their clothes were worn and their possessions simple, their faces dusty, everyone looked to be in good spirits.

Reaching Yanmen, they would be allocated land suitable for cultivation. It was said the court would soon issue an edict that for ten years, no taxes would be levied on these newly cultivated post-war fields. Life was never easy, but dawn could already be seen.

The dirt road was narrow. When they approached, Jiang Hanyuan moved aside to let the group pass first. Just as they were nearly past, Jiang Hanyuan noticed a family at the rear of the group.

It was a family of three. The man walked in front, pulling a wheelbarrow loaded with belongings. Between bundles and a sack of grain sat a mother and daughter. The woman was industrious, continuing to sew shoes even while traveling, her head bent over a flying needle and thread. Beside her, the little girl wore patched but clean clothes, holding a small lamb in her arms, sitting obediently. Suddenly, the wheel jolted, falling into a pit and unable to get out. The woman quickly put down her needlework, jumped from the cart, and helped the man push from behind. Soon, the wheel was freed. The woman poured water from a teapot into a bowl and handed it to the man. He took it and drank it down in a few gulps. The woman wiped his face, then climbed back onto the cart. The man pulled the cart up, followed the group ahead, and continued forward.

A very ordinary family. But Jiang Hanyuan recognized that this woman seemed to be the widow who had lost her husband and whom she had once encountered.

She had never forgotten the mother and daughter from that day. Though she had been too busy to visit later, she had always kept watch over them. Previously, Fan Jing had told her that the woman had taken her daughter and begun a new life.

How coincidental to meet them here.

This little girl holding the lamb should be the infant who had once crawled toward her that day.

It seemed like everything was still yesterday – the feeling of holding that baby’s little hand seemed to linger in her palm. But this was an illusion. Time passed like floating clouds and gray dogs, morning and evening changing constantly. That infant from the past had grown so much.

Jiang Hanyuan gazed at the little girl in the cart, who finally noticed this person standing far by the roadside, who had been watching her. At first, she was timid, hiding behind her mother with wide eyes, secretly peeking back.

Jiang Hanyuan smiled at her. Perhaps infected by her smile, the little girl hesitated, then finally smiled back at her too. After smiling, she seemed somewhat shy again, hugged her little lamb tightly, and quickly withdrew behind her mother.

Jiang Hanyuan smiled gently, watching the wheelbarrow carrying the little girl follow the group into the distance, then continued forward.

After traveling more than ten li, she encountered the returning party led by the Yanmen magistrate. But Shu Shenhui was not with them.

The Yanmen magistrate told her that Lord Qi had originally been returning with them, but at a crossroads ahead, he had stopped, saying he wanted to visit a certain place and wouldn’t return to the city tonight. So they had parted ways, and the group had returned first.

“His Highness doesn’t know the General returned early. Since it’s getting late, perhaps the General should return to the city, and this humble official can go seek His Highness on the General’s behalf.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Jiang Hanyuan looked around.

The Yanmen magistrate shook his head: “His Highness didn’t say. This humble official didn’t dare ask.”

It was already dusk. One horse, one bow – it should have been a spontaneous decision. Where would he go?

She looked around. The setting sun soaked the wilderness, golden light filling the sky. When her gaze fell on a distant direction, suddenly she thought of a place.

The Yanmen magistrate didn’t know why she suddenly became contemplative and followed her gaze.

At the far end, the mountains were distant and misty, evening clouds like smoke.

“General?”

“You return to the city. Some new migrant families arrived this evening – have people receive them well. Don’t worry about me.”

She spoke briefly, then spurred her horse and galloped swiftly in that direction.

Jiang Hanyuan rode along this small path in her memory that she hadn’t traveled since age thirteen, winding and turning, traveling all night until finally reaching the familiar place at dawn.

She traveled along the wild path overgrown with weeds, accompanied by constantly startled foxes and running rabbits, going ever deeper.

She stopped.

Not far ahead, a figure stood on the earthen platform where that young man had once come in bygone days.

Cold morning frost at dawn, the wilderness slightly white, wind passing with rustling chill.

She gazed at that silhouette, and slowly, warmth welled up in her heart.

He suddenly seemed to sense something, hesitated, then turned around. When he saw her standing at the other end of the wild path, his gaze was fixed.

Jiang Hanyuan, illuminated by the gradually brightening sky above, smiled brilliantly and stepped forward, continuing to walk toward him.

After she left, he had begun waiting for her return.

The days were very long. Without her, he felt like stars in different constellations, days seeming like years.

Yesterday, upon returning, passing the intersection where he had once encountered her by chance years ago, he thought of this place. Without much thought, as if seized by youthful impulse, he had traveled all night, taking a detour to come here.

He hadn’t expected she would return early and, as if by spiritual connection, seek him out in this place.

He went to meet her, and when he drew near, before he could spread his arms, she threw herself into his embrace, encircling his waist.

At this moment, between heaven and earth, the bleak desolation that filled their vision instantly receded, and joy and fulfillment arose in his chest.

He raised his arms and embraced her, slowly tightening his hold until he held her firmly in his arms.

“You’ve returned…”

Before he finished speaking, Jiang Hanyuan raised her head, changed her arms to encircle his neck, and kissed him.

“I missed you. I came back early,” she said.

Many years ago, she had guided him and brought him to this place. Today she had walked the overgrown path and in the morning light come to his side once again.

Though life has regrets, though stars shift and constellations change, though we are all travelers passing through the ages, this moment, with her by his side, was enough.

Jiang Hanyuan saw her reflection in his eyes.

“Why don’t you speak…”

He kissed her back.

After a long kiss, he slowly released her.

“I missed you, too. Missed you terribly.”

He gazed at her and smiled.