Xie Yanlai disdained eating preserved fruits—he wasn’t a three-year-old child.

“In any case, my mother was also quite formidable,” Chu Zhao continued telling Xie Yanlai, feeling both sad and happy. “She was beloved by many, and her family background was impressive too. Although they were from a border commandery, the local gentry there was no less significant than the great noble families. Because of my mother’s death, those people directed their anger at my father, so they remained distant and never appeared before us. That’s why it’s perfectly normal that I didn’t know of their existence in that lifetime.”

Xie Yanlai asked, “That lifetime?”

Chu Zhao giggled: “I misspoke, I meant at that time.”

‘At that time’ didn’t sound right either, but whatever. Was there any truth in what came out of her mouth? Xie Yanlai sneered.

But they extended their love and respect for her mother to her, only to be later used by Xiao Xun. Chu Zhao let out a long sigh. They had no names, only referred to as her mother’s people, and she didn’t even know what they looked like.

Chu Zhao looked out the window and saw Little Man’s figure hiding not far away. Little Man must have been among them in that lifetime, too. During the chaos in the capital, she was probably there as well.

In that lifetime, she had married Xiao Xun, and there were no situations where she had to fight with Xiao Xun’s people. But Little Man and the others must have fought to the death elsewhere to ensure her safety.

Thinking of this, Chu Zhao’s eyes grew moist, and tears fell.

Xie Yanlai turned his gaze away, snorting, “What’s there to cry about? Be content.”

Despite his words, he extended two fingers and pushed the fruit plate a little closer to Chu Zhao.

“I’m happy,” Chu Zhao said, sniffling and wiping away her tears before lowering her head to read the letter.

In her letter to her father, she had told him she had lived through one lifetime already. To make him believe her, she pretended it was a dream, but emphasized to her father that it felt extremely real, that she clearly felt each day passing by.

She told her father about what happened in that lifetime—the deadly struggle between the Crown Prince and the Third Prince, Xiao Xun ascending the throne, and what she had experienced—hiding nothing and explaining in great detail.

So this letter was extremely important. It couldn’t have the slightest mishap or be seen by anyone. She didn’t dare entrust it even to Uncle Zhong. Fortunately, there was A-Jiu—

She glanced at Xie Yanlai.

Xie Yanlai immediately noticed. What’s she doing? What kind of look is that? It’s spine-chilling!

Thankfully, Chu Zhao withdrew her gaze and lowered her head to continue reading the letter.

Well, this girl was immersed in her father’s reply, lost in thought and acting strangely—not surprising. He wouldn’t quibble with her. Xie Yanlai also turned his gaze away again.

She had told her father such an incredible story, yet her father didn’t question or rebuke her at all. Instead, he seriously wrote back to her with explanations. Chu Zhao gently ran her hand over her father’s handwriting.

Her father’s first sentence said, “A-Zhao, you have suffered.”

Chu Zhao’s eyes blurred again.

In this world, only her father would cherish her like this.

In that lifetime, after she lost her father, there was no one left in the world who cared for or worried about her.

She heard a soft sliding sound. Chu Zhao raised her eyes slightly and saw that the fruit plate had been pushed to the edge of her hand. When she looked over, the slender fingers at the other side of the fruit plate were withdrawn as fast as lightning.

Chu Zhao couldn’t help but purse her lips in a smile. She reached out, picked up a piece of preserved fruit from the plate, and put it in her mouth.

“Zhang Gu said your father met him personally,” Xie Yanlai said, looking into the hall. “He received the letter, told him to rest, and the next day met him again personally to give him the reply letter. He also thanked him—”

Hmm, here he concealed a sentence. Zhang Gu had said: “General Chu also said thank you to you.”

At that time, he had responded irritably: “Thank me for what? I wasn’t the one who delivered the letter.”

Zhang Gu had said: “General Chu, thanks you for taking care of Miss A-Zhao.”

At that time, the expression on Zhang Gu’s face had been peculiar—a look of being moved, gratified, yet sad. He’d even said, “A-Jiu, you’ve suffered.”

What was that all about? It made no sense. Had that Deputy General Zhong framed him?

Xie Yanlai let out a snort.

“What are you snorting at?” Chu Zhao asked with a smile. “Didn’t my father thank you? Don’t worry, Brother Zhang would certainly have told my father that you were the one who asked him to deliver the letter. My father will thank you.”

Xie Yanlai couldn’t be bothered to argue with her about this.

“Zhang Gu said,” he glanced at the girl, “Your father seemed to be in fairly good spirits.”

Chu Zhao nodded and made an affirmative sound.

“However,” Xie Yanlai continued—he wasn’t one to only say nice things; comforting people was the most boring thing, it was better to face reality—”Zhang Gu said there was a very strong smell of medicine where your father was staying. He said your father looked spirited, but the spirit in his eyes wasn’t genuine. It was… induced by medicine.”

Chu Zhao’s expression darkened, but this time she didn’t shed tears.

“I know,” she said. “My father’s body is completely exhausted. He… doesn’t have much time left.”

Illness wasn’t fate.

She could avoid being deceived by Xiao Xun and change the fate of that lifetime.

But she had no magic elixir; she couldn’t cure her father’s illness.

Xie Yanlai was silent for a moment, then asked, “What do you plan to do?”

Chu Zhao lowered her head to look at the letter, and her mouth flattened: “Father says not to fear separation. If I miss him, he will always be there.”

If she misses him, he’ll always be there. Xie Yanlai sneered. That’s the kind of thing you tell children.

“I’m asking what you plan to do in the future,” he said.

The future? Chu Zhao looked up at him: “The future? What future?”

Xie Yanlai frowned at her: “Your future. When that little brat grows up, what will you do?”

Her future, huh? Chu Zhao looked at the young man before her and smiled: “How do you address His Majesty? It’s only because it’s me here; I won’t blame you for being disrespectful.”

Xie Yanlai scoffed but didn’t respond to her.

Chu Zhao lowered her head and picked up another piece of preserved fruit to eat. The sweetness of the preserved fruit spread in her mouth. She shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning against the table, and said, “My father also asked me about this.”

She had suddenly become this Empress, and everyone was trying to guess her intentions and guard against her motives. Only those closest to her would ask about her future.

They didn’t believe she truly wanted to be this Empress.

And what did “this” mean?! The young man was sensitive and was about to say something, but Chu Zhao, already knowing his reaction, smiled and spoke first.

“Once the country is stable, once the threat from the Prince of Zhongshan is eliminated,” she said, with some longing and some sadness, “once my father can leave with no more worries, once A-Yu has grown up, I’ll go to the border commandery, to the place where my mother and father lived.”

At that time, though she would still be alone in the world, she would certainly live more happily than in that lifetime as Empress.

Moreover, there would still be Little Man, Uncle Zhong—

Speaking of Uncle Zhong.

She quickly looked at Xie Yanlai.

“Also, I’ll wait until you—”

She extended her hand.

Xie Yanlai was startled and moved backward: “What are you doing? Wait for me to do what?”

“What are you afraid of? I’m not going to eat you,” Chu Zhao smiled, raising her hand before Xie Yanlai’s eyes and clenching it into a fist. “I meant I’d also wait until you hold military power, imposing and majestic, able to take good care of Uncle Zhong and the others.”

Xie Yanlai raised his hand to wave the girl’s hand away: “Keep on dreaming. Thinking everything will go your way, that all your wishes will come true.”

Chu Zhao withdrew her hand and rested her chin on it: “Of course I have to dream. Only by dreaming is there hope, and only then will I strive to make it happen. Never should one stop dreaming—that would mean having no hope at all.”

Xie Yanlai glanced at her: “So what are you planning to do now?”

Chu Zhao propped her chin up and looked at him, blinking her eyes, seeming not to understand what he was asking.

Xie Yanlai snorted coldly: “You think by playing these tricks on them, you can control Xie Yanfang and Deng Yi?”