A-Le looked around. Campfires dotted the surroundings, patrols constantly moved through the military camp, and various noises filled the air. However, their area remained quiet since earlier the young lady had instructed people to stay away to avoid disturbing Xie Yanlai’s sleep.

When A-Le saw Xie Yanlai suddenly embrace the young lady, she wasn’t particularly surprised, probably because she had seen it before. Back then, just after the General had passed away, the young lady had held back her tears until Xie Yanlai said a few words that made her cry. After she fell asleep, Xie Yanlai carried her back to rest.

And now, Xie Yanlai had once again made the young lady cry. Perhaps it was about the King of Zhongshan. A-Le sighed. This recent incident had indeed been perilous. Until the moment they escaped, she had believed they would die inside.

How could the young lady not be afraid? She was human after all. With her fears and no one to confide in, having A-Jiu around to argue with and cry to was probably a good thing. A-Le sat down, hugged her knees, and gazed up at the stars. The spring sky was much more beautiful than winter’s.

Xie Yanlai stared at the brilliant stars in the distance.

“You shouldn’t think of her as your mother,” he said. “Apart from giving birth to you and the blood ties between you, she is, more importantly, Mu Mian Hong.”

Isn’t that obvious? Chu Zhao wanted to laugh. She is Mu Mian Hong. Just as she was about to look up, Xie Yanlai’s hand pressed down on her head, holding her still.

“I mean, she’s a person. See her as a person, not as a mother.”

“The connection between you two, to put it bluntly, is brief, but this brief connection will remain with you all your life.”

“Perhaps this feels helpless to her too.”

“Maybe our parents sometimes regret having us.”

“Without us, they might live more comfortably, more freely.”

“I remember when I was little and made my mother angry, she would scold me, saying if she hadn’t given birth to me, she wouldn’t have to live such a life.”

He gazed at the starry sky, his thoughts drifting far away, but was quickly pulled back when a pair of small hands quietly embraced his waist—

Xie Yanlai, still pressing Chu Zhao’s head, warned: “Don’t get handsy.”

The girl in front of him giggled and retorted: “Who made the first move, huh?”

She was still leaning against him in his embrace, with her head still pressed down by his hand.

Xie Yanlai froze, then reached out to pull her away. “That’s different. I was comforting you.”

When he was young—though he couldn’t remember why he had cried—a hug from his mother made everything better. Later, after his mother was gone and he grew up, he never cried again, nor did he need embraces anymore.

She was several years younger than he, still practically a child.

Chu Zhao looked at the young man before her, both amused and somewhat saddened. Who was comforting whom? He wasn’t any better off than she was.

“Yes,” she nodded and formally bowed. “I understand. I was wrong to get handsy with you, sir.”

Xie Yanlai didn’t want to bicker with her, afraid their back-and-forth might lead to strange conversations.

“Anyway, don’t overthink things, and don’t argue about who’s right or wrong,” he said. “You and she are destined to be this way. You find it difficult, but she probably finds it even more challenging. You need her now, and she can’t leave you either, so just face it straightforwardly.”

Chu Zhao sighed: “Actually, she’s quite unfortunate.”

Because of this mother-daughter bond, Mu Mian Hong had fought for her in the previous life, and in this life, she continued to battle without rest.

“You’re unfortunate too,” Xie Yanlai corrected. “Don’t compare misfortunes. Instead, work together to make others unfortunate.”

Chu Zhao laughed again.

“Xie Yanlai,” she said, “thank you.”

Xie Yanlai replied arrogantly: “No need for thanks. I’m doing this for myself too. If Her Majesty is distracted by these sentimental matters and something goes wrong, it will bring trouble to our border army.”

Chu Zhao nodded with a smile: “Your words are reasonable, my loyal subject. I have learned my lesson.”

Xie Yanlai glanced at her: “I’m leaving.” With that, he strode past her.

Watching his retreating figure, Chu Zhao couldn’t help but call out: “Xie Yanlai.”

Xie Yanlai stopped and looked back. The night veiled his expression, but his impatient voice carried: “What now?”

Chu Zhao smiled: “Safe journey.”

Xie Yanlai waved his hand and continued walking. From behind came another call, “Xie Yanlai—”

Irritated, he stopped and turned around again, gritting his teeth while raising his voice but then lowering it: “What else does Her Majesty command!”

The night obscured the girl behind him, hiding her expression, but he could see her hands clasped behind her back. Her voice carried a smile: “Nothing more.”

Xie Yanlai glared at her, though she couldn’t see it. He turned and walked away with large strides, but strangely, he could hear his heartbeat and felt that if the girl called out once more, his heart might leap out of his chest.

His hanging hand clenched tightly.

Fortunately, no more calls came from behind.

He walked until he reached the bustling camp, where his guards had gathered men and brought horses.

Xie Yanlai exhaled deeply in the night, and sitting astride his horse, he looked back. In the quiet darkness under the starlight, the girl was still there.

From this distance, she definitely couldn’t call out anymore—and even if she did, he wouldn’t hear her. Xie Yanlai couldn’t help but feel somewhat triumphant.

He gripped the reins but didn’t give the command. His horse, confused, could only circle in place to remind its master.

Only then did Xie Yanlai flick the reins and shout a command. The horse galloped forward, surrounded by soldiers, moving through the noisy camp like a fish breaking through waves.

The night was like the sea, and the fish leaped into it, disappearing. Chu Zhao remained standing motionless.

“Young lady, what are you thinking about?” A-Le asked softly. “Are you worried about him?”

Chu Zhao came to her senses and shook her head. Was she worried? Not really, because there was no need. Xie Yanlai was right—they were all fearless people, so there was no need for concern.

“I was thinking about Xie Yanlai as a person,” she said.

Xie Yanlai as a person? What about him? A-Le immediately became alert: “What’s wrong with that guy?”

Chu Zhao smiled: “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. To me, he’s a stranger.”

A stranger? A-Le was even more confused. Hadn’t Xie Yanlai and the young lady known each other for a long time?

Chu Zhao didn’t explain further. In this world, she was somewhat familiar with many people, but Xie Yanlai was the only one she had never heard of in her previous life, making him a stranger to her.

Perhaps because he was a stranger, being with him felt like entering a new world where she could speak freely without restraint.

A-Le couldn’t understand, so she simply stopped trying: “Young lady, come eat.”

Whatever kind of person he was, everyone needs to eat.

To avoid waking Xie Yanlai, the young lady had been sitting beside him and hadn’t eaten.

A-Le thought this unnecessary—couldn’t she have just moved away to eat something without disturbing him?

“The sound of footsteps would wake him,” Chu Zhao said. “Don’t you know how alert that boy is?”

That was true. This Xie Yanlai had seen through them at first glance, preventing them from meeting the General. A-Le nodded. But still, how could someone so alert fall asleep beside the young lady?

“Alright, let’s go eat,” Chu Zhao beckoned.

A-Le dropped her thoughts and ran over to join her.

When they reached the tent, Chu Zhao stopped and said: “A-Le, please invite Madam Ding.”

A-Le acknowledged. Earlier, the young lady had seemed uncomfortable with Madam Ding, probably because she was used to having Xiao Man by her side. But since Madam Ding was replacing Xiao Man, it made sense for the young lady to get acquainted with her, so A-Le happily went to fetch her.

Chu Zhao had just sat down in the tent when Mu Mian Hong entered. In the lamplight, she appeared somewhat nervous.

“Empress,” she said, “is something the matter?”

Her form of address was cautious, Chu Zhao noticed. She didn’t call her Miss Chu or use her name directly, but used the respectful title “Empress.”

Empress was the sovereign; even as mother and daughter, they maintained the distinction between ruler and subject. This approach was appropriate.

Chu Zhao looked at her and asked: “Has the Chief eaten yet?”

Mu Mian Hong glanced at the dishes on the table, hesitated slightly, then smiled: “I have eaten, but I feel I should say I haven’t.”

Chu Zhao smiled and gestured: “Please sit, Chief. Try my late-night meal.”