Precisely because we don’t know how many years we can still be together, we must cherish every moment before our eyes.

Yu Wanyin: “Xiao Tiancai said he’ll come back next month to take your pulse.”

After the Crown Prince’s case was settled, Yu Wanyin still informed Xiao Tiancai about Xie Yong’er’s death.

Xiao Tiancai was distraught for several days. Yu Wanyin thought he would leave because of this, but he appeared as usual, continuing to keep his promise and caring for Cen Jintian until the very end.

Only after sending off Cen Jintian did Xiao Tiancai come to say farewell.

Yu Wanyin felt guilty in her heart, believing she owed him greatly, yet Xiao Tiancai comforted her instead: “I was loyal to Your Majesty, as Consort Xie would have wished. My departure now is to see the beautiful landscapes she had longed for.”

Yu Wanyin couldn’t help but ask: “In that letter of hers, what did she say?”

Xiao Tiancai’s ears reddened again: “…She said after the capital’s affairs were settled, she would find a new place of peace and wait for me to seek her.”

After a few seconds of silence, he smiled: “Your Majesty need not be sad. As long as these mountains and rivers still exist peacefully, her soul will still have something to rely on, and one day we will meet again.”

After that, he set off alone, occasionally sending letters back, chatting about the lives of common people he had seen in various places.

Xiahou Dan: “He comes and goes like the wind.”

“I heard he became a traveling doctor, saving lives wherever he goes,” Yu Wanyin recalled their conversation, her mood still somewhat low.

Xiahou Dan glanced at her, casually saying: “By the way, Bai also sent a letter.”

“What about?”

“Nothing much, just chatting about recent affairs, and checking on us.” Xiahou Dan snorted, “Attached was a sappy poem.”

Yu Wanyin laughed: “Let me see.”

“Nothing worth seeing.”

“Let me see—”

Xiahou Dan pushed away the teacup and stood up: “It’s rare to have leisure time, shall we play a round of ping pong?”

Yu Wanyin’s attention was diverted: “That works.”

The imperial harem had been disbanded—most consorts left with expressions of relief like survivors of a disaster—but that ping pong table remained.

After the Emperor won two rounds, the Empress threw down her paddle and refused to continue, declaring that flying kites would be more appropriate for the Qingming Festival. So the Emperor sent people to find colored ribbons and pedals.

When Li Yunxi walked along the corridor carrying memorials, he saw from afar under the tall willow trees in the imperial garden, an elegantly dressed figure swinging back and forth, with the Emperor’s laughter faintly heard nearby.

Li Yunxi, immersed in his lonely state of mind, how could he bear to see this? After holding back for a long time, he finally adjusted his expression and asked a palace servant to announce his presence.

A moment later, the Empress stopped swinging, and the Emperor walked over alone: “Is there something?”

Li Yunxi presented the memorial: “Please review this, Your Majesty.”

Although it was a rest day, when ministers volunteered to work overtime, Xiahou Dan couldn’t ignore them.

He brought the man into the imperial study, listening to the report while looking through the memorial. Li Yunxi diligently explained everything but felt the Emperor was only half-listening, occasionally smiling and getting distracted. Yet whenever he paused, Xiahou Dan could respond fluently, making it impossible for him to find an excuse to criticize.

Half an hour later, a eunuch knocked and entered, bowing as he presented a note. Li Yunxi’s sharp eyes immediately recognized that scrawl-like handwriting.

“Barbecue tonight?”

Xiahou Dan looked at it, propped his chin on his hand, and wrote back a “1”.

Li Yunxi: “?”

The eunuch seemed accustomed to this, took the note, and withdrew.

Xiahou Dan looked toward Li Yunxi, asking in a dismissive tone: “Any more questions?”

Li Yunxi: “…No more.”

He bowed and withdrew, but after taking just two steps, he heard Xiahou Dan say: “Minister, please wait.”

Xiahou Dan pointed at his memorial: “Minister, your literary talent is brilliant, but how is your poetic skill?”

“Poetry?”

“When you have time, you could write a couple of sentimental poems.” Xiahou Dan earnestly suggested, “Since you have no one to send them to anyway, why not let me use them to impress others?”

“…”

The words Li Yunxi had been holding back all day finally burst out: “How can you all… be so undignified!”