At dusk, a light rain began to fall. The moon rose from behind the willow trees, just a sliver of silver-white, weaving through wisps of clouds, as delicate as a beautiful woman’s eyebrow.

The imperial physicians departed from Mihe Residence in groups, a procession of blue umbrellas swaying, their wide blue official robes dragging across the ground. Their cyan boots stepped in shallow puddles, splashing fine droplets of water. Medicine boys carrying large medicine boxes bent at the waist as they attended at one side, dressed in light blue robes, looking like graceful plantain leaves drifting in the rain.

Outside the window, the remaining lotus flowers finally scattered in this rain, disturbing the last clear pool of water. A little maid ran lightly into the outer chamber, the hair on her forehead already wet. Qiusui quietly called to her, and the two young children gathered under the corridor to whisper. Though their voices were low, they still drifted faintly into the inner chamber.

“The lotus flowers have all been scattered. The rain is ice-cold. Summer Aunt said the Crown Prince loves lotus flowers the most, so she asked us to hold umbrellas over them.”

Qiusui sighed with the wisdom of someone older: “What’s the use of doing that? What’s meant to wither will still wither. The people from Jinse Palace are going too far with their flattery.”

“Indeed, it’s September already, autumn has arrived.”

…

The maids left together, their voices growing fainter until they could no longer be heard. Outside the ebony window, a strip of twilight hung delicately on the treetops, soaked in cold moonlight, smooth as silver. All around was silent, with only occasional birds flying past, quickly calling strangely as they flew away.

This room had not been lived in for a long time. The chamber was extremely large, and somewhat empty, with a huge sandalwood bed facing north, layered with green gauze embroidered with golden phoenix birds. When the wind blew, it resembled a mass of lotus leaves swaying in the breeze, or like layers of misty pavilions, floating and spiraling.

The south-facing windows were wide open. Beyond the railings was a pool full of clear lotus. Now the wind and rain outside suddenly intensified, and the lotus leaves moved with the wind, already showing signs of decline after reaching their peak. Servants eager to please their master paddled small boats, holding large umbrellas over the last pool of green lotus in the cool rain.

Li Ce sat in a chair, his fingers lightly tracing the seat. The red lacquer with five blessings and longevity was already mottled. The servants had hurriedly prepared this room but hadn’t had time to repaint it. His fingertips felt the uneven bumps on the surface. Li Ce didn’t mind; his eyes seemed both closed yet open, narrowed into a slit, watching the woman lying on the bed.

Chu Qiao wore a light cyan phoenix robe with a white silk lining. The cyan gauze was embroidered with light gray daisies, blooming one by one prettily, restrained and modest, quietly blossoming. Her face was very pale, her brows tightly furrowed, her small face no bigger than a palm, with a pointed chin. She curled up, looking somewhat pitiful.

The imperial physicians had already left, having repeated reassuring words thousands of times, yet the air still seemed to float with tense particles, making people feel depressed.

Moonlight spilled onto the ground, making the spacious hall seem so empty. There was no furniture, no decorations, just a large bed and a chair. The floor was made of ebony wood; stepping on it felt solid, very hard.

In such a place, even speaking a word seemed to echo responses from all directions, so spacious, so desolate, and decayed.

But this place was closest to Li Ce’s Crown Prince’s Palace. Many years ago, Li Ce grew up right here, and Mihe Residence once had its days of glory with visitors coming and going. But at some point, this place was sealed off, with crimson ribbons bearing the rose insignia symbolizing royal dignity. Since then, it has never been opened again.

In the blink of an eye, more than six years had passed.

Chu Qiao moved slightly, feeling a bit cold as the breeze blew by.

Li Ce stood up, his embroidered boots stepping on the slightly damp floor, walked to the window and closed it, then returned to the bedside. Extending his long fingers, he lifted the green gauze curtains layer by layer, and the woman’s face gradually became clear.

Long eyelashes, a pretty nose, cherry-red lips, delicate ears, a slender neck…

His hand extended toward the woman’s body, seemingly wanting to pull up her blanket, but the wind and rain outside suddenly grew stronger, pattering against the window frames. The moon was dim, its pale light falling on Chu Qiao’s jet-black hair at her temples, revealing a glossy yet cold luster, so thin, yet with a hint of icy indifference.

His fingers stopped an inch away from her body, gradually stiffening, finally freezing in a suspended gesture.

The moonlight was still, casting a long shadow beneath him, dim and so thin.

The night watch drums sounded softly. In this picturesque imperial capital of Biantang, even the watch sounds were played with vermilion zithers, sounding so crisp and melodious, like a gentle breeze.

After an unknown length of time, the moon rose, hung high, then tilted away again. The sound of rain gradually disappeared, and the man finally withdrew his frozen gaze, slowly turned around, and stepped out of that secluded palace gate. His dark red embroidered robe dragged across the heavy ground, like an aged hand turning yellowed book pages, inch by inch, recalling so many bygone days.

The door opened, and Sun Di stood with his arms folded, leaning against a pillar. Seeing him come out, he suddenly looked up and smiled lightly.

Li Ce seemed not to see him, just walking straight ahead.

“Your Highness, Jade Dress Pavilion’s Lady Yu has come twice. Hearing that Your Highness caught a cold in the rain, she specially prepared ginseng soup and is waiting in the palace.”

Li Ce did not answer, continuing to walk forward as if he hadn’t heard.

Sun Di’s voice became increasingly cheerful, smiling as he said: “Liufu Pavilion’s dancer Liu Liu has specially sent a maid with many valuable medicines for injuries, saying they’re for treating Miss Chu’s wounds.”

“Tang Ran Palace’s Lady Tang is said to have gone to South Buddha Temple to pray for Your Highness and Miss Chu. After hearing this, the ladies of several other palaces also followed. Now the monks at South Buddha Temple probably have no place to stand. These ladies suddenly worshipping Buddha together is quite a spectacular scene.”

“Also…”

The night breeze was cool, and the fine rain had also retreated. Behind the two men followed a large group of guards and palace maids, all trailing far behind, not daring to come forward.

Sun Di suddenly seemed to remember something, exclaiming: “Oh! Minister He’s daughter also entered the palace this afternoon. After hearing about the palace incident, she resolutely stayed in the Fourth Princess’s chambers, saying she wanted to wait for Your Highness to have time to pay respects.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?” a deep voice slowly sounded, completely lacking the usual laziness and frivolity.

Sun Di smiled, saying with a grin: “This servant was thinking, with so many interesting things happening, isn’t Your Highness curious to take a look?”

Li Ce remained silent. Sun Di raised his eyebrows, smiling as he said: “Your Highness, this isn’t like you.”

“Me?” Li Ce chuckled, yet his voice contained not a trace of joy: “I can barely remember what I’m like anymore.”

Sun Di laughed heartily as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world: “Such dejected words don’t sound like they’re coming from your mouth, Your Highness.”

“Fingers touching thousands of tender backs, tongue-tasting crimson lips from all directions. My Crown Prince, when have you ever been so absent-minded, when have you been so lost?”

A fresh breeze blew by, with large rain-blackened begonias lining both sides of the path. Li Ce stood under a tree, his gaze becoming very distant. There seemed to be a struggle, yet also a calmness. Finally, he turned around, all dejection gone from his face, returning to the unrestrained appearance of the Great Tang Crown Prince. With a hearty laugh, he loudly said: “You’re right. One must seize the day’s joy, not let the golden cup face the moon empty. Sun Di, summon all the ladies and dancers to attend collectively at the Crown Prince’s Palace. Call back those who are praying too. Tomorrow, tear down that temple and build a new one… just to enshrine… just to enshrine a Joyful Buddha, haha!”

“One must seize the day’s joy, not let the golden cup face the moon empty.” Sun Di murmured for a moment, then smiled: “Your Highness, what fine poetry!”

Li Ce gave a casual laugh, shamelessly claiming others’ work as his own.

In no time, sounds of jubilant songs and dances came from the direction of the Crown Prince’s Palace, voluptuously flamboyant, with swaying skirts, and waists flowing like water. The gentle fragrance of wine drifted away, spreading in all directions to the clear pools and pavilions. The women’s tender songs and dances followed the water’s flow, spreading across the entire palace, floating and swaying between every eave and bracket.

Flowers nod on branches, golden cups never empty—another night of revelry and peace.

Under a small pavilion at Mihe Residence, two senior imperial physicians were on night duty. One stood by the window, gazing at the clamor of the Crown Prince’s Palace in the distance, sighing: “I thought when the Crown Prince reopened Mihe Residence and summoned all the imperial physicians for consultation, he must truly care about this Miss Chu. But now it seems, not so much after all.”

The other physician held a small hand warmer. Now that autumn had arrived, the nights were cool. The elderly man was dressed warmly, with his aged eyes slightly closed. Hearing this, he didn’t look up, but just said faintly: “Still hoping for red rain from heaven? Don’t dream. After Princess Fu’s passing, alas…”

The physician by the window clearly understood and sighed helplessly.

The night breeze was thin and cool, blowing through layer upon layer of embroidery. This luxurious palace buried how many people’s silent heartaches, and carried how many sorrows.

The sound of zither strings broke through the midnight mist, disturbing the dust of the splendid palace. Beneath the accumulated ancient charm of a thousand years lay boundless luxurious splendor and desolate loneliness of decaying dust.

After two days of continuous rain, flowers fell from trees, but the air was refreshingly clear.

Because of this unexpected disaster, Chu Qiao’s journey was also delayed. Now it seemed she would have to wait until after Li Ce’s wedding before her injuries would heal enough for her to set off. And Li Ce’s impulsive dismissal of Zhao Yan that day had spread throughout the capital. Although there were no official documents yet between Biantang and Da Xia, the fact that Da Xia’s Ninth Princess was driven out of the Tang capital by the Biantang Crown Prince was indisputable.

In an instant, all eyes were focused on Da Xia, everyone quietly waiting to see how Da Xia would respond.

After just suffering a heavy blow from Yan Bei, how would this wounded tiger deal with the enemy who boldly challenged its authority?

The wind filled the tower as the mountain rain approached; people’s breathing became careful and quiet, fearing that one careless move might disturb this pool of tranquil water.

The darkness before dawn remained terrifyingly quiet.

That afternoon, Chu Qiao was taken out by the little maids to bask in the sunshine. She had not suffered internal injuries, only flesh wounds, but they still somewhat limited her mobility. Qiusui and others made a great fuss, not allowing her to walk anywhere, carrying her back and forth, making her drowsy all day, and becoming quite lazy and plump.

She was not to the point where she couldn’t walk at all, and could completely set off back to Yan Bei. But Li Ce didn’t mention it, and she couldn’t initiate it either. After all, Zhao Yan being driven back to Da Xia might trigger what chain reactions, but Chu Qiao still wasn’t sure. If Li Ce were implicated because of her, she would feel uneasy, so without seeing the outcome, she couldn’t persuade herself to leave in peace.

The sun outside was very bright. Chu Qiao lay on a lounger, feeling drowsy. Most of the cicadas in the trees had died, with only a few stragglers calling intermittently. She was nodding off, hazily about to fall asleep.

After an unknown amount of time, everything around her suddenly quieted down.

Chu Qiao was startled and abruptly opened her eyes, but immediately froze. She saw a noblewoman of about fifty standing before her, with a kind face and very calm eyes, carefully examining her, looking very attentively.

Seeing Chu Qiao wake up and staring at her in surprise, the noblewoman nodded, as if greeting her, and then asked: “Do you want some water?”

Chu Qiao frowned as she looked at her. This person was dressed plainly from head to toe, yet the fabric was still visibly luxurious. Her hairstyle was simple, the colors subdued, but there were no accessories to indicate her status. She seemed like a high-ranking court lady, yet had an otherworldly nobility beyond that. But if she were someone who had long held power, she lacked some of the authority of a ruler. On her wrist, she wore a string of sandalwood prayer beads, very old, looking somewhat mismatched with her status.

Seeing that Chu Qiao didn’t speak, the woman walked directly to the shade of a nearby tree, took a teapot from a small table poured a cup of clear tea, then walked back slowly, saying: “Drink it. Early autumn is when people are most likely to feel thirsty. Young people should take care of their health.”

“Mm,” Chu Qiao took a sip of tea, indeed feeling refreshed. She looked awkwardly at the woman a couple of times, then cautiously said: “I’m sorry, I’ve just entered the palace and don’t know much. I don’t know how to address you.”

“Me? My surname is Yao.”

Yao was a common surname in Biantang. In the palace, from the Empress down to ordinary palace maids, one or two out of ten were surnamed Yao. In just a few days, Chu Qiao had already met no fewer than seven or eight aunties surnamed Yao.

“May I sit down?” the woman pointed to a chair nearby, asking very politely.

Chu Qiao quickly nodded, saying: “Please sit.”

Seeing Chu Qiao looking around, the woman spoke: “The Empress has come. Your maids have all gone to receive her.”

Chu Qiao looked at her, expression doubtful, clearly wondering who she was and why she wasn’t going to receive the Empress if the Empress had arrived.

But the woman just smiled slightly. She seemed to be someone who rarely smiled; there weren’t even wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Her smile looked somewhat stiff. She looked at Chu Qiao and said: “I’m fine. I just wanted to come see you.”

Her words were so abrupt that they left Chu Qiao unsure how to respond. The palace had many rules, and people were complex. Everyone spoke keeping seven or eight parts to themselves, leaving two or three parts for others to guess. As Chu Qiao was pondering the woman’s identity, the woman spoke again: “You are good.”

Chu Qiao smiled faintly, saying: “Thank you for your praise.”

“I’m not praising you. You are indeed good, but I feel you’re not suited to living in the palace.”

Chu Qiao immediately understood. Was this another jealous spokesperson mistaking her for Li Ce’s new favorite?

“Don’t worry, I won’t stay here long.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” The woman shook her head, saying: “Everyone starts unsuited, but gradually adapts. I think you’re not bad. If you were to move in, perhaps this palace would change a little.”

Chu Qiao frowned, looking at the woman in confusion, not knowing what she meant.

“Sigh, the Crown Prince wants to tear down the palace’s temple, did you know?”

She spoke with great leaps in topics. Chu Qiao was taken aback, shook her head, and said: “I didn’t know.”

“He wants to enshrine a Joyful Buddha in the palace. Sigh, I really…” The woman’s brows were tightly knitted, seeming very troubled. She looked at Chu Qiao, slowly saying: “When you have time, please advise him against it. He is, after all, the Crown Prince of Great Tang. He shouldn’t be too frivolous.”

“I have to go now,” the woman stood up, saying to Chu Qiao: “You’re injured, don’t see me out.”

Then she slowly walked out through the side door of Mihe Residence.

This person came suddenly, said a bunch of confusing things, and then left, leaving Chu Qiao quite puzzled.

Soon after, Qiusui and others returned. The little maids all had strange expressions, with some uneasiness.

“Qiusui, what happened? Did the Empress come? Why didn’t you call me?”

Qiusui said: “Auntie Xi came with a message saying the Empress had reached the palace gate, but seeing you asleep, she said you were ill and didn’t need to receive her. So we all went together.”

“And the Empress?”

“We waited for a while but the Empress didn’t get out of her carriage. Later she said she wasn’t feeling well and went back.”

“Oh.”

Chu Qiao nodded, her eyes bright, seeming to understand something.

“Help me go back inside.”

The little maids agreed, and attendants came forward to lift Chu Qiao’s soft couch back through the palace gates.

Speaking of which, Chu Qiao hadn’t seen Li Ce for a full two days. These past few days, she had heard from Qiusui and others about what happened. In his rage, Li Ce had driven away the Da Xia Princess, executed more than thirty of the Princess’s attendants, and then summoned all the imperial physicians for a joint consultation. Most importantly, he had reopened Mihe Residence where he lived as a child for Chu Qiao to stay. The deeper meaning behind this—who in the court wouldn’t understand?

But what followed made the servants of Mihe Residence somewhat depressed. The Crown Prince, who had just shown signs of devotion, summoned all the palace ladies that very night to drink and make merry in the Crown Prince’s Palace. It was said that eight women attended him that night. And these days, he hadn’t set foot in Mihe Residence but instead held grand feasts. It was said that he was about to undertake major construction to build a pavilion for a newly favored palace girl.

Ah, the hearts of these royal nobles were truly difficult to understand.

Qiusui sighed as if she had been neglected.

But Chu Qiao secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, thank goodness it was Li Ce. She carefully recalled the scene when Li Ce rushed into the lakeside pavilion that day, and couldn’t help feeling startled. If it were…? Never mind, fortunately, everything wasn’t as she had imagined. With her willow-like appearance, she would hardly catch this man’s eye.

She smiled self-mockingly just as the little maids brought in a rich assortment of dishes for dinner. Chu Qiao looked at it, suddenly smiled, and said to Qiusui: “The way you all are spoiling me, you’ll make me lazy. How will I manage when I return to Yan Bei?”

“That’s not a problem, we’ll be following you to Yan Bei anyway.”

Qiusui replied matter-of-factly, but Chu Qiao secretly shook her head. Even with you all, how could Yan Bei have such exquisite delicacies? Perhaps as soon as we reach Yan Bei, you girls will regret following me.

She smiled lightly, picking up a slice of lotus root.

After dinner, the sky outside had already darkened. She stood by the window when suddenly a melodious flute sound drifted over. Across a misty lake, coming from afar, it had a faint sense of entanglement, plaintive yet moving, with turns and twists, like the cold moon’s melancholy in the quiet night, yet without the sorrow and trembling of young love. Instead, it carried a hint of cold solitude and arrogant loneliness.

Chu Qiao listened carefully, turned back, and asked: “Do you know who’s playing the flute?”

The little maids shook their heads, saying they didn’t know. Chu Qiao stood up, wanting to go out and see, frightening Qiusui and others who desperately held her back, fearing she might hurt herself if she moved about carelessly.

Chu Qiao had to promise to stay, quietly lying on the couch until everyone had left the room. Only then did she come to the window, nimbly climbing out. When her feet touched the ground, there was a slight pain, but no serious damage.

She wore only silk indoor shoes, stepping on the stone path, feeling a bit cold.

The flute sound was melodious and graceful, the power in the tune even, moonlight quiet, dew glistening, shallow clouds drifting, begonias still standing, pear blossoms rustling in the distance, a magnificent brocade.

She didn’t encounter anyone along the way. The white gauze skirt dragged softly on the ground, dampened by dew but free of dust. The moonlight was shallow, and she was getting farther from Mihe Residence.

Again it was that lakeside pavilion, open to the wind on eight sides, standing far out over the water. A man in white clothes like snow, holding a purple flute, stood facing the wind, his sash floating lightly as he played melodiously. His silhouette was tall and lonely, standing in the cold moonlight, his slender form adding a tranquil gentleness rarely seen in him.

Chu Qiao slowly stepped onto the ebony bridge, and the man turned his head. The music stopped abruptly. Seeing Chu Qiao, he wasn’t surprised, but smiled mischievously, flipping the flute playfully in his hand, saying: “Wandering around in the middle of the night instead of sleeping—no wonder people say you’ve been sleeping like a pig during the day. So you’re addicted to nighttime excursions, saving your sleep for daytime.”

Chu Qiao laughed naturally, teasing him: “I’m fine, but I hear you’ve been singing and dancing night after night, exhausting yourself thoroughly. After such consumption of energy, you still have the strength to play the flute?”

“Haha,” Li Ce laughed heartily, saying: “You’re a young lady, ‘exhausting thoroughly’—I’m surprised you can say such things.”

Deep autumn brings heavy frost and dew, imperceptibly dampening long sleeves. Chu Qiao hadn’t worn an outer coat when she came out, and now as the night wind blew, she couldn’t help feeling cold.

Li Ce smiled and walked forward, naturally taking off his outer robe and putting it around her shoulders, saying: “Silly, aren’t you cold?”

Chu Qiao raised her head, smiling slightly, saying: “I’m allowing you to show our great fearless friendship.”

Li Ce smiled, his eyes narrowing into a slit, just like a happy fox.

The night wind blew through the water pavilion, stirring ripples in the lake. Chu Qiao sat beside him on a wooden pile, asking softly: “What about Da Xia’s alliance marriage?”

Li Ce snorted: “What can they do to me? If Zhao Zhengde sends a decent beauty, this Crown Prince will let bygones be bygones. If not, hmph…”

After saying this, seeing Chu Qiao still looking expectantly at him, not having taken his nonsense to heart at all, Li Ce couldn’t help sighing, saying: “Qiao Qiao, you’re no fun. You can’t even take a joke.”

Chu Qiao stubbornly said: “Because I’m worried. This is no joke.”

Li Ce chuckled, leaning closer, asking: “Qiao Qiao, are you worried about me?”

Chu Qiao ignored his playfulness entirely, instead nodding seriously, saying word by word: “Yes, Li Ce, I am worried about you.”

Such words embarrassed Li Ce. He smiled foolishly, not knowing what witty remark to make to ease the atmosphere. Finally, he raised his hand, saying: “Alright, I surrender.”

Seeing that Chu Qiao still wasn’t smiling, he finally sighed helplessly: “You don’t need to worry. Now it’s harvest time, and three-tenths of Da Xia’s grain has to be purchased from Biantang every year—they’re highly dependent on us. Before, because Da Xia was powerful and had Huai Song on the side to balance power, we had to bow our heads. But now, thanks to you and Yan Xun, Da Xia’s grain production this year is less than four-tenths. They’ll need to rely on Biantang to survive next year. To be our enemy at this time would be digging their own grave. With the Xia Emperor’s temperament and intelligence, he surely won’t become my enemy over a foolish daughter. You’ll see, within five days, Zhenhuang City will send others for the alliance marriage. The wedding date will just be slightly delayed, nothing serious.”

“Really?” Chu Qiao asked worriedly: “You drove away Zhao Yan, essentially giving the Xia Emperor a hard slap in the face. Will he let it go?”

“In the past, he certainly wouldn’t just let it go, but now, hehe, Qiao Qiao, power determines everything. Da Xia doesn’t have that power now, so he doesn’t have the leverage to speak to me as an equal. If the Xia Emperor can endure his daughter being my secondary consort, then he will surely swallow this anger too.”

Seeing Chu Qiao still frowning, Li Ce smiled: “Come on, Qiao Qiao, am I a fool? Do you think I would throw caution to the wind and go to war with Da Xia in a fit of rage over a beauty? Hmph, besides, you’re not my beauty. This Crown Prince doesn’t have the leisure to inquire who that little head of yours is thinking about.”

Chu Qiao laughed at his words, turning her head to punch his shoulder, saying: “So unserious.”

Li Ce rolled his eyes: “Only Yan Xun is serious, always with a stern face, as if everyone in the world owes him money and won’t pay it back. I’m telling you, Qiao Qiao, do you plan to spend your whole life with him like this? I guarantee this man will be very dull in daily life. As a woman’s lifelong matter, you should consider carefully.”

“You’re so boring,” Chu Qiao glared at him: “Only you have a sense of fun.”

“That’s right,” Li Ce smiled proudly: “This Crown Prince is elegant as a jade tree in the wind, learned as five carriages of books, unrestrained and graceful, unparalleled in handsomeness. Wherever I go, unmarried maidens flock to me, and married noble ladies send me autumn glances. From three-year-old girls to eighty-year-old grannies, all are enchanted, prostrating themselves before this Crown Prince’s knees.”

Chu Qiao covered her mouth, laughing: “Yes, you’re as handsome as Song Yu, godlike as Pan An, with countless charms like Long Yang.”

“Who’s Song Yu? Who’s Pan An? Long Yang, is that a person’s name?”

Chu Qiao laughed: “They’re famous beauties. Haven’t you heard of them?”

“Beautiful men?” Li Ce snorted disdainfully: “I must meet them if I have the chance.”

The moonlight was like water, spilling silver light all over the ground. The night wind suddenly rose, and Li Ce stood up, saying: “Let me take you back. The wind is strong at night, and you’re injured.”

“Alright,” Chu Qiao stood up.

Li Ce’s gaze swept over her embroidered shoes, which were merely soft silk slippers now dampened by water. His brows slightly furrowed, saying: “How could you come out wearing these? Weren’t your feet injured? How could you run out?”

He seemed to have just thought of this, immediately frowning.

Chu Qiao said nonchalantly: “It doesn’t matter, it’s not a serious injury.”

“Qiao Qiao, remember, you’re a woman, not a warrior.”

Li Ce’s face suddenly became serious, his voice carrying a hint of anger: “What’s wrong with Yan Xun? Aren’t there some things he can do himself? You’re a woman, why don’t you stay properly at home instead of wandering around everywhere? You have no regard for your own body, not speaking up even when you’re badly injured. In the future when your body is covered in scars, let’s see how you’ll get married. I want to see who would want you.”

Chu Qiao exclaimed: “You’re the one who won’t get married. Mind your own business.”

“Hmph, mind my own business? I insist on minding yours!”

Chu Qiao frowned: “Hey, Li Ce, you look down on women!”

“So what if I do? What about it?” The man narrowed his eyes, looking like a rascal with his cocky demeanor.

Chu Qiao walked ahead, ignoring him, saying: “I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going back.”

As soon as she finished speaking, a sudden dizziness came over her. When she came to her senses, she was already held tightly in Li Ce’s arms.

“Hey! What are you doing? Put me down!”

Chu Qiao was startled and immediately pushed against him.

Li Ce half-closed his eyes, looking at her sidelong, snorting through his nose: “I won’t put you down.”

The young girl’s eyes had small flames rising in them, her voice crisp: “Are you going to put me down or not? If not, I won’t be polite.”

Li Ce was unconcerned, stretching his neck, saying: “You have a knife tied to your arm, and another on your leg, I know. Go ahead, cut here. If you can’t break my neck, I’ll despise you.”

Chu Qiao puffed her cheeks angrily, her chest heaving, exclaiming: “Li Ce, how can you be so unreasonable!”

Li Ce looked at her impatiently, as if to say, “You’re only realizing this now?” The night breeze sighed, gently blowing their robes, like fluttering butterfly wings.

The night was slightly cool, with clear lake water all around. Li Ce carried the woman in his arms, strolling on the ebony bridge. Willow branches hung low on both shores, with occasional golden carp leaping from the water, stirring ripples across the pond.

As Li Ce walked, he hummed a cheerful little tune. The melody was extremely joyful, like the smile on his face, always very bright.

Chu Qiao didn’t ask why, despite his excellent martial skills, he hadn’t shown them at all during the dense forest battle. Nor did she ask why, despite playing the flute so well, he had found an old master to pretend to play the flute to seduce those girls. She especially didn’t ask why he hadn’t come to see her once in these days, instead drinking and making merry night after night.

Every person has their own thoughts, and aspects they don’t want to show to others, especially these royal nobles. Under the imperial yellow silk, they bear too many heavy burdens. Those reasons were too weighty; she didn’t want to uncover them, nor could she understand them.

The moonlit night was cold, but the breeze was gentle. They walked quietly, neither speaking a word.

This evening was destined to be a sleepless night, tossing and turning, with whose shallow heartache lost above the jade-green lakeside pavilion?

However, just the next day, shocking news broke the tranquility of the Tang capital. A woman in a bright yellow cape, like a horse’s hide in the wind, delivered a document and slowly walked into this ancient walled city under the alarmed gaze of the city guards.