The night wind was bitterly cold. Xie Jingxing only brought Shen Miao to the outside of the Princess’s residence, where the Shen family carriage was still waiting. When Shen Miao wanted to speak, Xie Jingxing’s shadow had already disappeared from her side. Mo Qing and Azhi were somewhat surprised to see her suddenly appear at the gate. Azhi asked, “How did Miss come out alone? Where are the others?”

Just as he was speaking, Jingzhe and Guyu ran out panting, and upon seeing Shen Miao, they sighed with relief. Jingzhe said, “We were waiting outside, and Lady Yang said you had come out. I thought she was lying. Later, seeing no one in the room, we came to check, and unexpectedly, Miss had come out.” She looked around in confusion: “But there was clearly only one room, and we were guarding outside, yet we didn’t see when Miss came out. Could there be a secret passage in the Princess’s residence?”

Guyu quickly coughed lightly to remind her not to talk nonsense. After all, they were outside the Princess’s residence. Even if the Princess’s residence truly had a secret passage, that would be the Princess’s secret, and they shouldn’t speak of it so carelessly.

Jingzhe stuck out her tongue slightly and glanced at Shen Miao. Shen Miao’s brows were tightly knit, her expression somewhat grave. Seeing this, Jingzhe whispered, “The Princess didn’t look well when we went in earlier, Miss. Did you argue with Her Highness?”

Shen Miao shook her head, thinking of everything that had happened at the Princess’s residence today. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed and climbed into the carriage first: “Let’s go back.” Whatever needed to be contemplated could wait until they returned to the Shen residence. After all, what had happened today was truly beyond her expectations.

As the carriage was about to depart, Shen Miao couldn’t help but lift the curtain and look back one more time. The pitch-black night concealed everything; there was no moonlight, and nothing could be seen.

She sighed softly.

In a corner not far from the Princess’s residence, a purple-clad youth silently watched the carriage disappear into the distance.

Gao Yang’s folding fan was no longer casually swaying but was folded and tucked at his waist. He looked at the handsome youth before him, his expression showing rare complexity. He asked, “Was it worth it?”

“This day was inevitable,” Xie Jingxing replied indifferently.

“Don’t you feel regret?”

Xie Jingxing slightly raised his lips. The mask concealed his features and expression, but one could still imagine the faintly mocking, somewhat disdainful, and cold appearance.

He said, “The fate has simply run its course.”

Gao Yang fell silent, but after a while, he shook his head and patted Xie Jingxing’s shoulder.

Several servant maids emerged from the Princess’s residence, carrying what appeared to be a basket of something. They emptied the basket’s contents and then threw the basket on the ground.

One maid lamented regretfully, “These things cost quite a bit of silver. If we had taken them to a medicine shop to sell, we could have made some profit. Throwing them away is such a waste.”

“What do you know?” Another maid glared at her: “Who knows if these things are poisonous? If they are, selling them would only bring trouble. Enough looking, let’s go.”

The two maids turned and went back to the Princess’s residence, leaving only the lonely basket remaining on the ground.

It was the medicinal ingredient that had been delivered to the medical hall earlier, which “coincidentally” arrived to treat Princess Rongxin’s heart ailment. Now it was discarded like worn-out shoes and even suspected of being “poisonous.”

Gao Yang’s face showed some sympathy; having one’s efforts wasted would displease even the most generous person. He wanted to offer some words of comfort, but Xie Jingxing had already walked away.

He was dressed in fine brocade, his figure tall and straight, walking leisurely through the night, his entire being radiating an unstoppable brilliance.

Yet, that retreating figure carried a certain loneliness.

Shen Miao returned to the Shen residence, where Mr. and Mrs. Shen Xin were waiting for her. The sky had darkened, and Shen Miao had still not returned, causing everyone to fear something might have happened. Seeing her return safe and sound, they finally relaxed. Shen Miao had matters on her mind and claimed fatigue, wanting to rest early. No one suspected anything. Shen Miao returned to her chamber, sent Jingzhe and Guyu away, and sat down at the table.

She felt quite uneasy.

Xie Jingxing’s appearance at the Princess’s residence today, revealing his identity to Princess Rongxin, was truly a rash decision. And Xie Jingxing was not a rash person by nature. Other than to help Shen Miao avoid Princess Rongxin potentially doing something unpredictable to the Shen family, there was no other reason.

Making someone else’s situation difficult because of herself was not something Shen Miao wished to see. Despite Xie Jingxing’s severe words each time, he had never actually harmed her.

Shen Miao didn’t know how deep the feelings between Princess Rongxin and Xie Jingxing were, but at the Princess’s residence, Princess Rongxin’s reaction after confirming Xie Jingxing’s identity was truly disheartening. Xie Jingxing hadn’t said anything and appeared unconcerned, as if he hadn’t taken it to heart, but Shen Miao knew how great the hurt could be when it came from someone close.

Just as in her previous life with Fu Xiuyi and with the second and third branches of the Shen family toward her, it was because when faces were torn off, they were so cruel, making all those previous moments of warmth mockingly painful. If it had been indifference or harm from Xie Ding, Xie Jingxing might not have cared, but with Princess Rongxin, it was different.

After all, Xie Jingxing had given his first tiger-head bracelet to Princess Rongxin. After all, when he returned to the capital two years later and learned that Princess Rongxin had suffered a heart attack again, he immediately sent people to search for medicinal ingredients.

There was certainly some affection there.

Shen Miao stood up somewhat irritably and walked to the window, pushing it open to look outside. The sky outside seemed like spilled ink; the winter night of the capital city emanated a sense of bleakness and coldness inside and out.

She thought for a while, then turned back into the room, took out a thick deep-red brocade cloak from a box, and put it on. After fastening the front ropes of the cloak very tightly, she walked to the window and softly called, “Cong Yang.”

A black shadow dropped down from the tree and stood straight in front of Shen Miao, respectfully saying, “What does Young Madam wish to command?”

Shen Miao had now developed the habit of not hearing Cong Yang’s form of address. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Take me to see Xie Jingxing.”

Cong Yang’s mouth opened wide as he drew in a sharp breath. He naturally had a somewhat serious appearance, and with his normally stern expression, this reaction now looked quite comical.

Shen Miao, embarrassed and angered by Cong Yang’s gaze, said, “Do you have a way or not?”

“Young Madam,” Cong Yang came to his senses, looking troubled, “I don’t know where the master is right now.”

Shen Miao frowned slightly. Cong Yang watched her daily at the Shen residence, so he indeed would not know Xie Jingxing’s whereabouts. Tonight, when she came out of the Princess’s residence, Xie Jingxing had left too quickly; she hadn’t had time to ask, and now no one knew where Xie Jingxing was.

However, for some reason, she felt that Xie Jingxing should be at Prince Rui’s mansion now. His emotions were hard to read; he was accustomed to hiding his feelings beneath a mask. Therefore, Shen Miao felt that if Xie Jingxing ever had moments of dejection, he would likely be alone.

She decisively said to Cong Yang, “Take me to Prince Rui’s mansion.”

Cong Yang’s face showed difficulty. Seeing this, Shen Miao frowned and asked, “Can you not do even this?”

Cong Yang quickly explained, “I could certainly go alone. But taking Young Madam is not possible.”

Shen Miao asked him, “Do you know lightness skills?”

Cong Yang nodded hastily.

“Then it’s settled,” Shen Miao said. “You can grab me and take me to Prince Rui’s mansion.” She thought of it very simply, just as Xie Jingxing had done to her before. Since Cong Yang was Xie Jingxing’s man, he would be much more convenient to use than Mo Qing and the others in some ways. Most importantly, she didn’t want Xie Jingxing’s identity to be known by more people. The more people who knew, the more dangerous it became, even if they were trusted individuals, because one never knew when they might be used by others.

At her words, Cong Yang shook his head repeatedly, his eyes even showing some terror, saying, “That’s not possible!”

“What’s the problem now?” Shen Miao’s patience was almost exhausted.

Cong Yang said, “It’s improper for men and women to touch.”

Shen Miao: “…”

She didn’t know where Xie Jingxing had found this guard, who had more rules than a woman, but despite Shen Miao’s persuasions, Cong Yang refused to “take” her to Prince Rui’s mansion.

Shen Miao was also at a loss. If she didn’t let Cong Yang use his lightness skills and had to walk out through the Shen family’s main gate, she would inevitably alert the guards posted by Shen Xin. Leaving in the middle of the night would likely wake everyone in the house before she even reached the gate. By then, if they asked for an explanation, she wouldn’t be able to say a word.

Shen Miao was extremely troubled.

She looked at the wall outside the courtyard, and suddenly an idea flashed in her mind. When Xie Jingxing had just moved to Yanqing Lane, not lacking money to spend, he had simply bought all the residences between Prince Rui’s mansion and the Shen residence, calling them neighbors. In this way, Prince Rui’s mansion could be said to be in the vicinity of the Shen residence. It was just that the room where Xie Jingxing lived was somewhat far.

Since these were neighboring residences, Shen Miao’s gaze fell on the high wall in the courtyard. She said, “Let’s climb over the wall.”

Cong Yang stared at her blankly, as if not believing his ears. He had been ordered to protect Shen Miao’s safety, keeping watch over her every move in the Shen residence, so he naturally knew what kind of person she was. Shen Miao was dignified and steady, extremely rule-abiding, and patient despite her young age. She looked like a noble person from the palace, and her every small action demonstrated a good upbringing. Cong Yang often marveled that this Young Madam was different from others, born inherently noble. Who would have thought that now this noble Young Madam wanted to climb over a wall? Cong Yang thought his ears must be playing tricks on him.

Shen Miao glared at him, imposing without anger, “Did you not hear what I said?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Cong Yang straightened up with a start, not daring to observe what expression Shen Miao had.

The time that followed was sufficiently painful for Cong Yang. At first, he had thought Shen Miao wanted to climb the wall herself, but what she meant by climbing the wall was piling things to stand on at both sides of the wall, creating a ladder-like structure so she could walk from one side of the wall to the other.

In the middle of the night, Cong Yang had to steal straw bundles kept by wealthy households for fertilizer. The problem was that there were more than a dozen residences between Prince Rui’s mansion and the Shen residence. Each residence had walls between them, and Cong Yang was so busy that despite the cold weather, he was sweating profusely. Watching Shen Miao walk over one wall after another with a haughty expression, he had the illusion that she was not crossing walls but ascending the high steps of the nine-fold palace. While marveling at this, he also lamented his fate.

If not for fear of defiling the Young Madam’s body and displeasing his master, Cong Yang wouldn’t have needed to exert so much effort. His lightness skills were quite good, and carrying one person while flying would have been more than enough. Why run back and forth like this? Previously, when his master transferred him from the Moyu Army, his colleagues had envied his good fortune, not knowing that this “great assignment” meant being a laborer, worse than a servant. Cong Yang wept silently in his heart.

By the time Shen Miao had “climbed” over the last wall and arrived at Prince Rui’s mansion, Cong Yang was too tired to speak.

Since they had entered from the direction of the back courtyard rather than through the main entrance, there wasn’t a single guard in the vast Prince Rui’s mansion. Cong Yang also looked puzzled, clearly not used to such laxity before.

Shen Miao was still observing the layout of Prince Rui’s mansion, which was indeed as rumored—magnificent. Even though it was just a temporary residence, it had been renovated with such care. She wondered how truly impressive the imperial palace of Great Liang must be. While thinking this, a middle-aged man dressed in black appeared before her.

“Tieyi!” Cong Yang called out, then asked, “Where are the others?”

The guard called Tieyi glanced at Shen Miao in surprise, then bowed to her and asked, “Miss Shen, have you come with urgent business?”

Shen Miao observed his appearance; he seemed to recognize her. Seeing that Cong Yang greeted him, she estimated he was one of Xie Jingxing’s men and said, “I’m looking for Prince Rui. I have something to say.”

Tieyi seemed to have anticipated this, nodded, and said, “The master is in the back courtyard. Follow me.”

When winter in Ming Qi turns cold, people are reluctant to move about outside. At night, the streets are empty, with even birds and cats, and dogs curled up in their warm nests, unwilling to move an inch.

The water in the pond had already frozen. Thick ice completely covered the scenery below—the summer lotus breeze, the playful koi fish—all now just a vast expanse of white. It seemed that even the best days would eventually pass, just as flowers that bloom in spring will one day wither.

The purple-clad youth was lazily sleeping in a tree, supporting his head with both hands. He hadn’t removed the silver mask on his face. A wind lantern hung from the tree, and in its faint light, his expression couldn’t be described as desolate, nor could it be called happy—just a slight loneliness.

Like the wind passing through the tree, light and cold. Quiet and silent.

A white tiger lay beneath the tree, occasionally scratching the trunk with its paws or biting fallen icicles, making “crunch crunch” sounds that were particularly clear in the night.

This was the scene that greeted Shen Miao as she entered. The youth and the white tiger slept indifferently, reminding her of herself in her previous life, walking through the imperial garden in the deep of night, her eyes seemingly retaining the joyful laughter of Fu Xiuyi and Madam Mei from the day, with a bitterness, walking endlessly.

The white tiger suddenly noticed someone’s arrival, immediately stood up, and arched its body, watching her vigilantly. It let out low warning howls, but because it was still too small, there was no intimidation, and the sound was more like “purring,” which was quite adorable.

“Shh, Jiaojiao,” Xie Jingxing said, “Quiet.”

Shen Miao: “…”

She walked under the tree, looked up at the person sleeping among the branches, and asked, “Who are you calling?”

Xie Jingxing paused, suddenly looked down, saw Shen Miao, and asked in surprise, “Why have you come?”

“Our conversation at the Princess’s residence wasn’t finished. I came to check on you.”

Xie Jingxing glanced at her, not coming down from the tree, but laughed softly, “Did you come because you’re concerned about me?”

“What you think is your business,” Shen Miao replied.

“Do you think I would be sad?” Xie Jingxing seemed to have heard a joke, his expression increasingly amused: “How naive.”

“It’s best if you’re not.” Shen Miao didn’t pay attention to his somewhat mocking words and spoke calmly.

Xie Jingxing stared at the sky, waving his hand lazily: “You should go back. I’m fine.”

Shen Miao didn’t leave.

The white tiger on the ground seemed to sense that Shen Miao meant no harm, and moreover, its master hadn’t shown hostility, so it gradually relaxed its vigilance. Rather familiarly, it nestled beside Shen Miao’s feet, “purring.”

Shen Miao quietly looked at the youth in the tree.

After a while, she asked, “Xie Jingxing, do you want to destroy Ming Qi?”

The air fell silent in an instant, as if tiny, lingering sparks escaped from the wind lantern.

In the dim light, the tree branches obscured the youth’s expression. Even if visible, the mask would have hidden his countenance. Only a corner of his magnificent purple robe hung down, with gold-threaded patterns gleaming in the light. Those threads crisscrossed, vaguely outlining the pattern of an auspicious beast.

It seemed to be a dragon.

The silence was heart-stopping; he didn’t answer.

The white tiger whimpered softly, then turned and ran back into the bushes.

Shen Miao leaned against the tree and said calmly, “If, in the end, you simply want to destroy Ming Qi, and everyone along the way is dispensable, then those with different paths cannot work together. Some people are good, but they are destined not to be on the same road. For people not on the same path, what does it matter what they do?”

Xie Jingxing laughed with a “hiss,” his voice coming from above: “Are you comforting me?”

“No, I’m comforting myself,” Shen Miao answered.

She could understand Xie Jingxing, though there were fundamental differences between them. Xie Jingxing was a man, and more decisive in killing and fighting. She believed that after tonight, he would still be that confident Prince Rui; nothing could trouble him, and nothing could block his path. He was like a lion, inherently a very powerful existence. She had merely stumbled upon this moment when he was licking his wounds, somewhat lonely.

“Do you also have sorrows?” Xie Jingxing teased, still with a cynical tone. But Shen Miao knew that in his eyes, there must be no smile now.

Was it because there were some emotions that even he couldn’t conceal, so he had to sit quietly in a tree where no one could see, unwilling to remove even his mask?

“My sorrows are no less than yours,” Shen Miao smiled. “At least Princess Rongxin is still alive. Isn’t the most painful thing in the world when the person you want to be misunderstood or blamed by is no longer there? Some mistakes can be compensated for; some cannot.”

Like her, Wanyu and Fu Ming—she could save many people, but these two she could not save. In this lifetime, she couldn’t save them even if she spent her whole life trying. Regardless of whether she could avenge her great hatred in the future, or if the Shen family flourished together, this regret would never have a chance to be remedied. She could only turn it over and over in her mind at night.

Even dreaming of them was a luxury.

“You also knew that such a day would inevitably come, so why hold on to attachment? Do what you can and accept fate. What has been done has been done with utmost sincerity; the rest, however excessive, is just the end of fate. No one is destined to walk the same path with someone for a lifetime. Like my marriage prospects.”

“Fu Xiuyi and I are not on the same path, the Crown Prince is not on my path, Huangfu Hao is not, Feng Zixian is not, Luo Ling is not, and Pei Lang is not either.”

Fu Xiuyi and the Crown Prince were Fu family members, naturally enemies, and could not be on the same path as Shen Miao. Huangfu Hao harbored ulterior motives, Feng Zixian grew up smoothly, a flower raised in a greenhouse, fundamentally different from her. Luo Ling had a righteous personality; how could he understand the private calculations in her heart? As for Pei Lang, complications were complex; in her previous life, he had added significantly to the destruction of Shen Miao’s life. This brush stroke forever placed something between her and Pei Lang, making it impossible for them to ever be completely honest with each other.

“The way you speak, there’s no one in the world on the same path as you,” Xie Jingxing reminded her.

“That’s the fact.”

Shen Miao sighed silently in her heart. Someone who climbed out of a grave and lived a second time was, in some ways, probably similar to a ghost. On the path of revenge, she had always walked alone.

“Saying that to comfort me will give me the wrong impression,” Xie Jingxing smiled slightly. “That you are on the same path as me.”

The wind swept up fallen leaves from the ground, blowing across the lake’s surface. The lake had frozen, hard as bedrock and immovable.

But perhaps one could vaguely see through the lake before them to spring days when gentle breezes passed, rippling the water, a pool of spring water reflecting glimmering light, the beautiful scene of red flowers and green willows.

Winter will pass, spring will always come.

Shen Miao’s voice was soft, softer than the night wind, gradually dispersing in the air.

She said, “Who says I’m not?”

“Saying that to comfort me will give me the wrong impression, that you are on the same path as me.”

“Who says I’m not?”

A shadow flashed from the tree in front of her; someone leaped down. The youth’s back was straight and handsome. The white tiger in the distance, seeing its master come down, immediately ran over joyfully, affectionately rubbing against the other’s robe hem.

“Do you think I am Prince Rui of Great Liang or the Young Master of the Lin’an Marquis’s household?” he asked.

Shen Miao leaned against the tree, hands behind her back, watching his silhouette. “Is that important?”

“I also thought it wasn’t important,” Xie Jingxing stood by the pond, his voice calm, without any fluctuation, stating plainly: “From the moment I knew my identity, people constantly reminded me that this was important.”

“The Marquis of Lin’an is weak, incompetent, indecisive, unworthy of being a father. If the real Young Master Xie hadn’t died young, he would similarly have died at Madam Fang’s hands.”

“Aunt Rong treated me well.”

“I thought that to others it was important, but to her, my identity wasn’t important.”

“But now I see that I made a big mistake.”

He said lightly, “For everyone in the world, this question has always been important, from beginning to end. There are no exceptions.”

He had thought that some feelings could break through the fetters of identity, that familial affection could rise above everything else, but in the end, it was like a hard slap to his face. More importantly, it was that deep sense of disappointment.

Shen Miao stared at his back for a long time before saying, “To me, it’s not important.”

Xie Jingxing laughed softly.

He turned and walked toward Shen Miao, stopping in front of her. Looking down at her from above, he asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“You are just Xie Jingxing, that’s all,” She raised her head defiantly, as if trying to suppress the other’s dominance.

“Just?” He was slightly displeased.

“You may deceive others, but not me.” Shen Miao looked at his mask. “From the beginning, I knew what kind of person you are. From the moment I met you until the end of our alliance, you’ve only been Xie Jingxing, nothing more.”

Xie Jingxing made a meaningful “Oh” sound.

He stepped forward again. Shen Miao instinctively retreated. She had been leaning against the tree, and now, with her back against it, there was nowhere to retreat. He lifted her chin.

Xie Jingxing asked, “Do you think I’m cruel?”

“I don’t think so. I’m the same,” Shen Miao answered.

“Then do you know that I’m not a good person?” His voice was low and captivating, mixed with the cold wind in the night, entering her ears, making her whole body feel hot.

Shen Miao shrank back further but refused to be looked down upon, only saying, “I know. I’m the same.”

Xie Jingxing held her waist and pulled Shen Miao toward himself. The mask covering his face gave his handsomeness a bewitching mystery. He said, “Then I can answer your question now.”

“What question?” Shen Miao was puzzled.

“You asked if I want to destroy Ming Qi.”

Shen Miao stared at him. Those beautiful eyes were filled with brilliant light, so deep they seemed to draw people in.

“What is your answer?” she asked.

“If I say yes, will you denounce me?” Xie Jingxing smiled mischievously.

Shen Miao slowly said, “I won’t.”

“Because I’m the same.”

Just one sentence, three “I’m the same,” yet it caused a change in Xie Jingxing’s gaze.

Like clusters of sparks blooming in an ice field, his emotions were unreadable. He only asked, “Do you know what you’re saying?”

Shen Miao was silent.

He gritted his teeth, as if wanting to devour Shen Miao whole, and said, “Shen Miao, don’t regret it. Now that you’ve boarded my ship, don’t ever leave in this lifetime.”

He suddenly bent down and kissed her.

Shen Miao instinctively tried to dodge, but Xie Jingxing grabbed her waist and pulled her into his embrace. His cold mask touched Shen Miao’s face as he restrained her hands and roughly kissed her lips.