Returning to Oriole Song Court, the sky had already turned completely dark. Little Li, who was in charge of lighting the lamps, had been leaning anxiously by the door. When he saw Chu Qiao return, his face lit up with joy as he ran forward delightedly, saying with a smile, “Miss, you’ve finally returned.”

Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow: “Has something happened?”

Little Li replied, “Nothing serious, just that the Young Master returned earlier and asked about you. When he heard you had gone out, he took A-Jing to look for you.”

“Oh,” Chu Qiao nodded, “How long have they been gone?”

“About an hour.” Little Li answered while attentively carrying a lantern in front of her. Suddenly seeing Chu Qiao about to head toward Blue Field Pavilion, he quickly blocked her way, saying, “Miss, servants are clearing snow over at Blue Field Pavilion. Let’s go this way.”

Chu Qiao paused, slowly lifting her head, the corner of her eyes coolly glancing at Little Li, remaining silently still.

Little Li’s expression turned awkward. After muttering for a while, he mumbled, “The path over there isn’t good for walking.”

The young woman’s face darkened. She pushed aside Little Li’s arm and strode forward. Just as she reached the arched doorway, she heard a coquettish, delicate female voice softly drifting over, along with the sounds of servants moving chests and cabinets.

The young woman stopped in her tracks, standing at the arch, her expression calm. After standing in silence for a long while, she finally asked in a deep voice, “Who sent them?”

“Northwestern River Inspector Supervisor Ji Wenting, Lord Ji.”

Chu Qiao frowned, saying in a grave tone, “Him again.”

Chu Qiao’s tone was displeased, and Little Li remained silent as winter, looking at her anxiously, afraid she might disregard the objection and walk straight in.

With a swish, Chu Qiao suddenly turned around and walked toward her quarters. As she walked, she said in a deep voice, “Tell them all to be quiet and not disturb my rest.”

Little Li stared blankly at the direction where Chu Qiao had disappeared, his mind struggling to process. The distance from here to Chu Qiao’s courtyard was quite far; even if people shouted, it would be unlikely for the sound to reach there.

At dinner time, after sending someone to call her twice without Chu Qiao appearing, the Yan Bei Young Master sighed outwardly, but secretly felt a hint of satisfaction in his heart. Just as he was about to go personally, he saw Chu Qiao enter wearing white robes, still dressed in men’s attire, seeming not to have changed since her return.

Yan Xun was surprised and asked, “A-Chu, what were you doing?”

Chu Qiao looked up, her expression indifferent: “I was reviewing the Bian Yang spring canal flood plan. There are several issues I wanted to discuss with you.”

A slight feeling of disappointment immediately filled his heart. Yan Xun sat down: “Let’s eat first.”

“Oh,” Chu Qiao nodded, “I am quite hungry.”

The woman sat down with a sweep of her sleeves, eating naturally. Yan Xun frowned slightly, seeing that Chu Qiao showed no intention of speaking, nor any sign of being upset or having unusual emotions. His heart felt congested, generating a sense of annoyance.

Outside, the cold moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the day-long snowfall had finally stopped.

“The spring transport in Bian Yang needs to be expedited. Now that a new River Transport Governor has been appointed there, canal transport is not running smoothly. Time is limited, and we need to make preparations.”

Putting down her chopsticks, the woman’s voice was cool as she took out a piece of white paper from her bosom. Looking at it, she said, “The Salt Commissioner of Li City assumed office last month. The new official is Wei Yan, a collateral descendant of the Wei clan. Since Lord Wei took office, he has reorganized the salt transport in Li City. The salt merchants are anxious. Miss Yu has written to us to be careful of changing loyalties, since Li City concerns the two passes of Shang Dang and Peng Ze, and these wealthy households will play a crucial role at key moments.”

“Also, someone needs to take over the position in Xihua. I think Yu’s student He Qi would be suitable. What do you think?”

Yan Xun nodded: “Do as you see fit.”

Seeing Yan Xun looking dispirited, Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow and asked aloud, “Are you tired?”

The man had no interest in discussing matters and replied faintly, “I’m fine.”

“Then you should rest first.” Chu Qiao stood up, “The Crown Prince of Bian Tang will soon arrive in the imperial capital, the Great Summer King’s birthday is approaching, and the envoys from Huai Song are also on their way. Zhen Huang will soon be bustling with activity. All other matters will have to be put aside for now.”

Yan Xun remained silent. Chu Qiao turned and walked out. The little maid Green Willow followed behind, draping an outer robe over her shoulders. The two figures quickly disappeared at the end of the long corridor.

Yan Xun sighed softly, leaning back in his chair, and gently massaging his temples.

This day, dealing with secret messages sent by the guild, appeasing court officials who had become overly friendly and attentive after the last hunting event, and scheming against royal nobility—none of these had been as exhausting as that brief moment just now.

“A-Jing,” the young man in brocade robes spoke quietly, “Send away those women Ji Wenting delivered.”

“Young Master?” A-Jing was stunned, saying, “Weren’t they meant to deceive the eyes and ears of the powerful? Doing this might make Ji Wenting feel alienated.”

Yan Xun shook his head with a sigh: “People who can truly be fooled by such superficial tactics aren’t worth fearing. Those who should be taken seriously won’t be deceived by this kind of act. That being the case, we might as well release them to win people’s hearts and do a favor.”

“Moreover,” Yan Xun’s final words were so indistinct that A-Jing couldn’t hear them. He only saw Yan Xun’s lips move slightly before he slowly closed his eyes: compared to A-Chu’s trust, what did Ji Wenting matter?

Although, she might not necessarily care.

Yan Xun comforted himself hypnotically: A-Chu, after all, is still a child.

Although, her behavior had never resembled that of a child.

“Young Master,” Green Willow ran back briskly, handing over a large bundle of documents, saying, “These are what Miss just reviewed.”

Yan Xun listlessly flipped through a couple of pages. Just as he was about to set them aside unread, his eyes suddenly brightened. He pulled out a thick stack of sealed letters and asked, “Why haven’t these wax seals been broken?”

The little maid scratched her head, saying, “Miss said they’re nothing but flattering words. She instructed me to tell the servants who delivered the messages to ask their masters to think of something fresh to say next time.”

Yan Xun was momentarily stunned, then his face suddenly showed signs of delight, even the corners of his eyes revealing a smile. He casually handed the letters to A-Jing, saying, “Do as A-Chu says.”

Having spoken, he rose and returned to his study. His steps had become much lighter.

A-Jing looked at Yan Xun’s retreating figure in confusion, looked at the letters in his hand, and saw a large “Ji” character written in flowing Song-style calligraphy on the envelope. The paper was fragrant, emitting a pleasant scent.

The next day, Deputy Commander Cheng from the Xiao Qi Camp sent someone with a set of cavalry archery Hu attire, complete with official boots and a crossbow, for Chu Qiao’s approval.

The little maids were all very excited, dancing around saying that in all these years, no woman had ever been an instructor in the Xiao Qi Camp, and they truly wondered what those noble sons would feel being taught by a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl.

While they chatted excitedly, Chu Qiao secretly kept her concerns. Setting aside the Emperor’s deeper intentions with this move, would the arrogant imperial city guards submit to her, a mere girl? Even though the Great Summer had open customs where women enjoyed high status, it still seemed unrealistic. After all, even in the modern era, women in the military faced discrimination; no matter how brave or meritorious, their promotion speed was far slower than men’s.

Thinking of this, even someone as intelligent as her couldn’t help but feel worried about taking up the post in five days.

“Miss.” A-Jing suddenly came in from outside, saying, “The Young Master says he’ll be back very late tonight, so please eat dinner first, don’t wait for him.”

Chu Qiao was startled. In all these years, Yan Xun had always maintained a low profile. Although his circumstances now were vastly different from before, he never spent late nights outside like those clan young masters in the imperial city.

“Is there something urgent?”

“No,” A-Jing smiled reassuringly, “Miss need not worry.”

Seeing he wouldn’t answer, Chu Qiao didn’t ask further.

Alone, she skipped dinner, only eating some pastries, sitting lazily in her room by the fire, not wanting to move.

These two years, she had been constantly traveling, cultivating external forces for Yan Xun. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed such a leisurely life.

Although the master of the Sacred Gold Palace restricted Yan Xun’s movements, not allowing him to leave the imperial capital, the control over Yan Xun’s subordinates was not very strict. On this point, Chu Qiao still couldn’t understand the Emperor’s intentions. Did he truly not care about Yan Xun’s forces developing and growing stronger in the shadows? Or did he have some other trump card?

In today’s Great Summer Empire, various forces held different territories. It was far from a situation where the emperor’s word could overturn everything. Did he have such ability and confidence?

Among the seven great families, the Mu clan of Lingnan, the He Lian clan of Huaiyin, and the Shang clan of East Mountain had always maintained a low profile, staying neutral in court faction struggles. Over the years, though there have been instances of imperial relatives wielding power, they have always remained disciplined in this dynasty. Especially in recent years, with the high profile of the Mu He clan and the Wei faction, they have become even more subdued. However, these families have accumulated power over generations, with clan forces deeply entrenched. Temporary compliance doesn’t mean they have no desire for power. Once they seize an opportunity, they will strike back fiercely to secure high positions. These people are like cold arrows lurking in the dark, ready to shoot out at any moment.

The Mu He clan, which had been prosperous for the past decade with carriages and horses gathering at their gates, was gradually showing signs of decline after the passing of the previous family head, Mu He Yun Ting. Although clan women held distinguished positions, with Mu He Na Yun even being the current Empress having given birth to three sons—the seventh prince Zhao Che, the eighth prince Zhao Jue, and the youngest nineteenth prince Zhao Mo—this still couldn’t compensate for the disadvantage of Mu He clan’s male members lacking in talent. Previously, the Mu He lineage had always supported the more diplomatic and more easily controlled Zhao Jue for the throne, hoping that after the current emperor’s passing, the Mu He clan would soar high, surpassing the Elder Council. However, before their well-laid plans could bear fruit, Zhao Jue was sentenced to death by the Emperor. With Zhao Mo still too young, the Mu He clan had no choice but to support Zhao Che again. Yet this seventh prince, with firm resolve and grand ambitions, seemed not to care much for his maternal clan, even giving only lip service to his mother, their relationship strangely difficult to discern.

Some families rejoiced while others worried; the gradual decline of the Mu He clan was the most welcome news for the Wei faction. Wei Guang, deeply calculating, had accumulated enough strength through years of forbearance for today’s sudden rise. Noble Consort Shu had lived in seclusion in the deep palace for many years. Although not particularly favored by the Emperor, she conducted herself with measure, elegance, and dignity, being the Noble Consort second only to Mu He Na Yun. The third prince Zhao Qi and the thirteenth prince Zhao Song had always been favored by the Emperor, especially Zhao Song, who was granted a fiefdom at a very young age, becoming the earliest prince to have an enfeoffment after Zhao Che. Now with Zhao Qi controlling imperial power and deeply trusted by the Emperor, the Wei faction was rising like water lifting a boat, their influence growing daily.

The Ba Tu Ha family in the northwest was of foreign origin, having been a northwestern royal family a hundred years ago before surrendering to Great Summer, and thus received a seat on the Elder Council. But being grassland barbarians, they were not favored by the imperial city clans and had little foundation at court, having always followed the Mu He clan’s lead. Just looking at the behavior of the siblings Zha Lu and Zha Ma, one could see the Ba Tu Ha family’s mindset and capabilities. They only understand brute force and lack intellect, not worth fearing. Once the Mu He clan falls, the Ba Tu Ha edifice will certainly collapse.

In contrast, the Zhuge family was inscrutable. Many were willing to equate the Zhuge lineage with the Mu clan of Lingnan and the He Lian of Huaiyin. But Chu Qiao knew the Zhuge family was not so simple. Hidden beneath Zhuge Mu Qing’s ordinary and gentle face were unfathomable schemes and incomprehensible calculations. A noble house that had remained prosperous for three hundred years could not possibly be as docile as it appeared on the surface. This point could be seen from the brothers Zhuge Yue and Zhuge Huai.

As for General Meng Than, General Le Xing, and other military leaders, most chose to attach themselves to the aristocratic clans and align with imperial power, unable to form their system.

Next were the vassal kings scattered throughout the land.

Twenty years ago, the vassal kings in the Jiangnan region had risen in rebellion against the imperial clans, only to be suppressed by the clans’ united front. Ling Xi Ling Wang, Jing Jun Wang, and Yan Wang Yan Shi Cheng were survivors of that campaign. The major princes who were powerful then had long since vanished into smoke, with royal family members suffering brutal massacres. What remains now is barely two or three-tenths.

During the massive slaughter of royal relatives back then, Yan Wang Yan Shi Cheng had made vigorous petitions to plead for the vassal kings. It was precisely because of this that he, a vassal king uninvolved in the rebellion, was stripped of his fief and banished, his name removed from the Zhao clan ancestral temple. His surname was changed from Zhao to Yan, and he was exiled to the cold northern region of Yan Bei, never allowed to return to the capital.

To this day, how many people still remember that Yan Bei Yan Wang is also from the Great Summer royal lineage, growing up drinking milk from the same mother as Zhao Zheng De?

Chu Qiao smiled coolly. Emperor Zhao Zheng De’s reign was truly difficult. Since the founding of the Great Summer, imperial power has always been diminished. Compared to the emperors in Chinese history who held military and political power for thousands of years, his situation was truly frustrating.

At this moment, she suddenly heard the sound of a door opening in the front courtyard. The young woman’s eyes glanced toward the window, and her ears perked up, silently lost in thought.

“Miss, are you asleep?”

Green Willow’s voice sounded outside the door. Chu Qiao responded, and the little maid carefully entered.

“Miss, it’s cold at night. Let me change your fire basin for you.”

Chu Qiao nodded, asking deeply, “Has the Young Master returned?”

“Yes,” the little maid answered crisply, “I heard Little Li, who opened the door, say that the Young Master went to the Golden Dawn Pavilion to entertain several generals from the Xiao Qi Camp, and he gave all the dancers that Lord Ji sent yesterday to them.”

Chu Qiao was momentarily stunned upon hearing this, staring at the glowing red fire basin without speaking.

“Miss?” The little maid frowned, calling, “Miss?”

“Hmm?” Chu Qiao looked up, “What is it?”

“If there’s nothing else, may I go now?”

Chu Qiao nodded, “You may go.”

“Then please rest early, Miss.” The little maid closed the door, and the wind outside suddenly grew stronger, whistling through the window frames. The sounds from the front courtyard gradually diminished, eventually returning to silence.

In five more days, she would report to the Xiao Qi Camp. Yan Xun’s dinner with the Xiao Qi Camp generals tonight had an obvious purpose.

They always told each other to be honest, never to conceal anything, to trust each other for life, and never to harbor suspicions. But as they grew older, there were some things they couldn’t be honest about with each other. Like her grievances with Zhuge Yue, her disgust and disapproval of noble manners, and his other face outside – the dissolute playboy facade meant to deceive others.

But some things never changed. Their deep understanding and shared camaraderie always led them to make the most appropriate arrangements for each other silently. Though unspoken, facing the strange world outside, they were always inseparable comrades, family bound by life and death.

Just like on that snowy night many years ago, when she had gone seeking medicine and was beaten, covered in wounds, stumbling step by step through the snow, clutching the life-saving herbs for him, expending her last bit of strength to return, only to see him in the cold, gloomy bamboo garden, sick and weak yet anxiously supporting himself, softly calling her name, searching for her. That day, the frail young man was sick all over, yet resolutely carried the battered young girl on his back. His lips were blue, his face pale, walking alone in the night. Though his steps were unsteady, his expression was extraordinarily determined.

That day, kneeling by her bed, holding her hand, he pronounced word by word in a low voice before the young girl’s drooping eyelids that in this life, this world, he would never again let her be bullied.

At that time, they didn’t even dare speak loudly at night. But this seemingly unimpressive promise deeply shook her heart, making her dedicate this fortuitous life to the edge of his ambitious sword.

The next day, when Wei Shu You came to coerce them again, the powerless young Yan Xun had a segment of his little finger cut off. If Zhao Song hadn’t arrived in time, perhaps his entire hand would have been severed by the Wei clan’s blade.

That night was Chu Qiao’s first and only time crying since entering Sacred Gold Palace.

During times of insufficient clothing and food, she hadn’t cried; when bullied by others, she hadn’t cried; when whipped and scarred all over, she had only widened her eyes, firmly remembering the faces of her enemies, showing no weakness. But that day, when Yan Xun had part of his little finger cut off, yet stubbornly refused to show her the wound that night, she could no longer hold back her tears and wept bitterly.

She could endure hunger, pain, and humiliation; she could bear suffering herself because she knew she would eventually grow up, escape her predicament, and personally avenge with a knife and sword. She had patience, she had time.

But she couldn’t bear seeing those around her hurt. With Yan Xun’s finger severed, who would heal it for him?

That night, she cried for a long time, until Yan Xun was at a loss, finally awkwardly holding her, patting her continuously sobbing back, raising his right hand and saying look, it’s just this small section, doesn’t affect holding a sword, doesn’t affect practicing with knives, doesn’t affect eating, doesn’t affect writing, it’s nothing.

This was Chu Qiao’s first time sobbing bitterly since coming to this era, shedding more tears than when she was in the firewood shed at the Zhuge house. Much later she understood it was because she had always been alone; even with children like Lin Xi, she still had no sense of belonging. But on the day Yan Xun’s finger was severed, she suddenly realized she had family too. Thus, she could allow herself a brief emotional weakness.

They were both lonely souls; in this world, apart from each other, they had no one else.

The firelight shone on the woman’s face, the night growing more hazy. Outside the window, the watch drums were prolonged, the night deep and the wind strong. Chu Qiao raised her head, looking at the swaying tree shadows outside, slowly curling up on the soft couch. She hadn’t eaten dinner that night and was quietly waiting for someone to knock on her door.

“A-Chu,”

Sure enough, after a while, a rich, gentle voice sounded outside, “Are you asleep?”

The corner of the young woman’s mouth twitched slightly, showing a rare soft smile. There was no more sound outside. After a while, she jumped off the soft couch and ran to the door with bare feet.

The door opened with a creak. There was no one outside, only a carved nanmu food box sitting quietly on the ground. A note was attached to it; picking it up, she recognized the familiar, flowing, rich handwriting.

“I know you stay up late. If you’re hungry, eat a little. This is a duck from West Return District, the oil has been removed, so don’t worry about gaining weight.”

Chu Qiao looked up, seeing amidst the fluttering white snow, a blue bamboo umbrella held overhead. Under a white fox fur cape, blue clothes hung loosely; the elegant figure gradually disappeared into the dark corridor. Snow cascaded down, and for a moment she almost saw the youth from years ago who had stood on the banks of Red Water Lake, shouting that he would help her one more time and then no longer be surnamed Yan, rather than the man who now lurked daily in darkness, wearing an ink robe with gloomy eyes.

Perhaps only in front of her would he occasionally reveal traces of his former self.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t changed, but because of her existence, he kept a soft place in his heart, an area others couldn’t enter, surrounded by high walls, with closed gates, opened only for her.

Chu Qiao stood holding the food box, lost in thought. Wind and snow scattered, covering the ground in desolation.

Two days later was the coming-of-age ceremony for the Eighth Princess, Zhao Chun. The Eighth Princess was born to the same mother as Zhao Che, making her the most revered princess in the current royal family, so her coming-of-age ceremony was naturally held grandly.

Due to the dispute during the hunting that day, Yan Xun’s patience with this willful girl had gradually worn thin. He merely sent A-Jing with a gift, hastily dealing with the matter.

When Chu Qiao reviewed the gift list, Yan Xun was drinking tea in the hall. The list respectfully and politely wrote a few auspicious words, followed by a line of gifts: two pairs of Hetian jade ruyi scepters, four gold and jade colorful lions, and eight bolts of Huai Song jade brocade.

Neither precious nor meager, quite in line with proper etiquette.

Chu Qiao shook her head, wondering how Zhao Chun would feel when receiving the gifts. For many years, Princess Chun’s admiration for the Yan Bei Young Master had spread throughout upper circles in the imperial city. Empress Mu He Na Yun had intervened in the matter, but Zhao Chun was willful by nature, listening to no one but Yan Xun, and with the Emperor’s hands-off policy, this little princess had become increasingly unrestrained.

“Cassia Branch Garden, Moon Tripod Bamboo Mountain. A-Chu, we really should visit Bian Tang someday, taste the Bamboo Mountain wine, eat a Garden pill.”

Chu Qiao looked up. Today the sunshine was exceptionally good, rarely without snow. Early in the morning, Yan Xun had called her to the flower room. The two had sat facing each other all morning without saying much; she read books, he drank tea, both seemingly content. Suddenly hearing him say this, Chu Qiao nodded with a smile: “Good, let’s go together when we have a chance.”

Seeing her happy, Yan Xun also smiled: “A-Chu has grown up, sure to be a beauty of the era.”

Chu Qiao snickered: “What did you eat today, why so sweet-mouthed? Or have you become accustomed to being slick-tongued outside, and can’t shed your dissolute young master manner when you return?”

Yan Xun was stunned upon hearing this, rendered speechless. Chu Qiao knew she had misspoken; some things they tacitly agreed never to touch upon, but unexpectedly, those things were still deep in her heart, awkwardly revealed inadvertently.

Chu Qiao bit her lip lightly: “I’m sorry, I spoke out of turn.”

Yan Xun shook his head: “A-Chu is the best woman in the world, incomparable.”

He said this so naturally as if he were saying today’s food was delicious. Chu Qiao was slightly stunned, her cheeks flushing slightly, unexpectedly showing a rare trace of girlish charm.

Despite their closeness, they had never discussed matters of the heart. Their years of companionship made them like comrades, even like family, but without involving romantic feelings. Suddenly hearing Yan Xun speak this way, the young woman who had experienced two lifetimes couldn’t help feeling a bit flustered.

“A-Chu,” Yan Xun suddenly turned serious, looking at her earnestly: “You and I have known each other for eight years, sharing fortune and misfortune, accompanying each other through hardships. Now, everything is about to end. Once things are resolved here, we’ll return to Yan Bei, and we’ll…”

Before he could finish, A-Jing’s slightly panicked voice suddenly sounded from outside: “Young Master, the Emperor summons you.”

All tender emotions instantly vanished. Chu Qiao jumped to her feet, the book in her hand dropping to the ground with a swish.

Yan Xun was also shocked. Seven years had passed without the Emperor summoning him, yet today he was suddenly called; was it fortune or misfortune?

“What should we do?” Chu Qiao asked her expression grave, turning her head.

Yan Xun thought silently for a while, finally saying: “No need to panic, there shouldn’t be any trouble. I’ll go see.”

“Yan Xun.”

Just as Yan Xun turned to leave, Chu Qiao suddenly grabbed him. The young woman’s small hand was slightly sweating, cold as snow, gripping him tightly, her eyes worried yet showing a resolute determination: “Be careful, come back soon.”

“Don’t worry.” Yan Xun felt warmth in his heart, taking Chu Qiao’s hand in return, patting her shoulder: “I’ll be back soon.”

Green Willow stepped forward to drape the great fur over Yan Xun. Yan Xun, accompanied by several attendants, left Oriole Song Court.

The entire afternoon, Chu Qiao was restless, constantly feeling something would happen. In the evening, A-Jing suddenly returned. Chu Qiao, delighted, rushed forward, asking in a deep voice: “Where is the Young Master? How is he? Why isn’t he back yet?”

A-Jing’s expression was somewhat awkward, but he slowly said: “The Young Master is fine, he’s currently attending a banquet in the front hall.”

Chu Qiao exhaled deeply, saying with relief: “That’s good. What did the Emperor summon him for?”

A-Jing looked around, seeing several little maids following Chu Qiao, all looking at him with puzzled faces, momentarily at a loss for words.

Chu Qiao’s brow gradually furrowed, vaguely sensing something unusual, asking gravely: “What exactly happened?”

“The Emperor…” A-Jing hesitated, finally saying in a deep voice: “The Emperor just summoned the Young Master… to decree a marriage for him, betrothing him to Princess Chun who just had her coming-of-age ceremony.”

The young woman was stunned, wanting to say something but unable to speak. She looked around, her eyebrows gradually tightening like a river, finally frowning deeply, asking in a very low voice: “Decreed marriage?”

“Miss…” A-Jing called worriedly.

But Chu Qiao nodded, murmuring: “Decreed marriage.”

“Miss, the Young Master was afraid you’d worry, so he asked me to come tell you. He said…”

“I’m fine,” Chu Qiao shook her head, saying: “Royal banquets are full of sharp edges. Quickly return to protect him, don’t let anything go wrong. I was just a bit worried, afraid the Emperor might harm him. Oh, decreed marriage, I understand.”

A-Jing’s face showed reluctance, softly calling: “Miss…”

“I’ll return to my room first, you go quickly.” Chu Qiao turned around, her back straight, showing no sign of sadness, only murmuring: “I have many things to do. Green Willow, bring all the letters from the flower room to my quarters, I need to review them.”

The white snow was vast. Today the woman wore a goose-yellow robe with a matching cape, rarely showing a hint of feminine charm. The wind blew from afar, lifting the accumulated snow on the ground, striking her back, her cape fluttering, appearing somewhat desolate.

In the distance, the sunset slowly descended in the west, the sky fiery red. But no matter how colorful, it would eventually go down.