In a person’s lifetime, if everything goes smoothly without experiencing any great upheavals—like Luoshen, for instance. Born as a favored daughter of heaven who received infinite love and protection from parents and brothers, in the first sixteen years of her life, her greatest worries, apart from her parents’ discord, might have been what to wear for tomorrow’s Flower Festival to worship the flower goddess. Should it be “narrow waist and tight sleeves, long hairpins adorning the temples” or “wide sleeves and flowing skirts, with half-painted moth eyebrows”? Then, her most likely future would have been marrying Lu Jianzhi, who was well-matched in family status and who loved and cherished her, transforming from a daughter of the Gao family to a wife of the Lu family. From then on, she would have lived harmoniously with her husband, borne and raised children, and gradually become a kind female elder respected by the next generation of Lu family descendants.

But that was merely a beautiful wish.

Reality is like a seemingly even-tempered donkey that walks along peacefully until, when one is completely unprepared, it suddenly delivers a vicious kick.

This kind of pain, precisely because it comes unexpectedly, becomes unforgettable.

Luoshen now finally understood that in this world, there truly would come a moment when even her A’Ye and A’Niang would be powerless and unable to protect her any longer.

For the first time, she witnessed with her own eyes how her noble, proud princess mother could lose composure to such an extent, sitting on the ground crying in despair like a helpless common woman.

For the first time, her father—who in her memory was omnipotent with an immortal’s bearing—could only look at her with reddened eyes, his gaze containing nothing but deep self-reproach and utter helplessness.

Also for the first time, she so intensely wished she could do something to help her parents share their burden of powerlessness.

Even just a little would be good.

In the past when studying, sitting with her brothers, upon reading “The world’s path repeats endlessly, human nature is mysterious and fickle,” she would merely smile and say, “Spring light is not as fickle as human feelings—after apricot blossoms fade, pear blossoms bloom,” earning competitive praise from her brothers.

But now, she personally experienced what “human nature is mysterious and fickle” truly meant.

It turned out that those who had previously treated you well might not necessarily have done so because of your inherent goodness.

…

Emperor Xingping had already issued a decree stating that the eighteenth of next month was an auspicious day suitable for marriage. Starting several days ago, both sides had begun the marriage proposal ceremonies.

According to arrangements, she would first enter the palace to thank and bid farewell to her imperial uncle the Emperor, then be escorted by her cousin Gao Yin on a several-day boat journey downriver to Jingkou, where the wedding ceremony would take place.

It was said that the people of Jingkou were all awaiting the arrival of the Gao family daughter, and the wedding would be very lively.

But Luoshen didn’t really care about these details.

Several days later, she finally received the long-awaited reply from Lu Xiurong.

Lu Xiurong asked to meet her at Qingliang Temple.

Qingliang Temple was in the western suburbs of Tai City. In spring, the mountains were covered with peach blossoms, and every year during the third and fourth months, visitors flocked there.

Luoshen went there every year with her brothers or female companions for spring outings, so she was quite familiar with the place.

Escorted by Gao Huan, she arrived at Qingliang Temple and finally saw her good friend.

Lu Xiurong was one year younger than Luoshen, originally lively by nature and fond of laughing. But this time when they met, she had completely become a different person.

As soon as she saw Luoshen, her eyes reddened.

Lu Xiurong told Luoshen that on the day of the Double Ninth Festival, after returning home, her father was furious, saying that eldest brother had disgraced the Lu family. He summoned eldest brother to his study and severely reprimanded him for a long time.

Her mother, Madam Zhu, who had previously treated Luoshen even better than her own daughter, now forbade Lu Xiurong from associating with Luoshen anymore.

This time she had come out by begging her second brother Lu Huanzhi to help her secretly evade Madam Zhu’s notice. She feared she couldn’t stay long and would have to return immediately after saying a few words.

“A’Mi, eldest brother has been very dejected these days, shutting himself in his room all day. I’m truly worried about him…”

Lu Xiurong could no longer hold back and began crying, weeping very sadly.

Luoshen completely understood.

Her sadness probably wasn’t much less than her own.

She knew Lu Xiurong had always had feelings for Gao Huan.

Originally, both families had intended for this pair of children to also form a marriage alliance, adding kinship to kinship.

But now, nothing was possible anymore.

When leaving the mountain temple, the scene of Lu Xiurong sitting in the carriage, looking back repeatedly through the window with her red, swollen eyes at herself and Gao Huan, became an image that Luoshen couldn’t erase from her mind in the following days.

But no matter how sad one feels, the days still pass by, one after another.

The wedding date was approaching rapidly.

Luoshen had already returned with Xiao Yongjia from Bailu Zhou to their home in the city.

The house still bustled with visitors. In fact, every day the gatehouse received even more visiting cards than before.

Perhaps because the Gao family’s status was too prominent, the marriage alliance with a humble family didn’t deter those aristocratic scholars, nor did anyone dare openly criticize the Gao family for this matter.

After all, this marriage was personally arranged by the Emperor.

But who knew what those people discussed behind their backs?

Behind closed doors, Father remained silent, Mother rarely spoke a word all day, and Uncle, upon hearing the news, rushed back from Guangling, drew his sword and chopped a table in half. His explosive temper nearly lifted the roof, but in the end, he could only swallow his rage and do nothing.

The fifteenth day. Early the next morning would be the day she entered the palace.

That evening, Lu Jianzhi, who hadn’t appeared since the Double Ninth Festival, sent a visiting card requesting to see Gao Qiao.

Gao Qiao received him in his study.

From the Double Ninth until now, only two or three months had passed, yet Lu Jianzhi had become much thinner, though fortunately his spirits seemed well.

He told Gao Qiao that tomorrow he would depart for Jiaozhou to assume the position of prefect. Tonight he came to bid farewell to Gao Qiao and also to apologize to him.

He said that for himself it didn’t matter, but that day, because of his impulsiveness and even more because of his incompetence, he had caused both the Gao family and Luoshen to fall into such a predicament.

He was a criminal. A criminal whose ten thousand deaths could not atone for his guilt.

He actually knelt before Gao Qiao, pressing his forehead to the ground for a long time without rising.

Gao Qiao sat motionless, watching Lu Jianzhi prostrated before him. Finally, he only asked one question: “Do you have any words you want me to convey to A’Mi?”

Lu Jianzhi slowly straightened up, lost in thought for a moment, then shook his head.

With a hoarse voice, he said: “I have no face to see her, nor any words to say. From now on, I can only wish her well from afar and hope everything goes smoothly for her.”

Lu Jianzhi kowtowed to Gao Qiao once more, rose from the ground, withdrew, turned and left.

Luoshen had already learned of his arrival from the servants.

She knew she shouldn’t go to see him anymore.

But even just as an elder brother, someone she had known for more than ten years who had also protected her for more than ten years—now that he was leaving the capital in dejection for the distant southwest, couldn’t she go see him off?

She chased to the main gate and saw that departing, lonely figure. The words “Brother Lu” were clearly at her throat, but seemed to be choked by something and couldn’t be spoken.

Lu Jianzhi had already stepped out of the Gao family’s main gate.

He seemed to sense something, hesitated, stopped, and slowly turned around.

He stood outside, Luoshen stood inside. Between the two of them was only a threshold, yet it was like a vast abyss. From now on, Nongyu would marry another, and Xiaoshi would become a stranger.

“Elder Brother, the southwest is far away. On your journey there, please take care of yourself.”

Luoshen gazed at his gaunt face and spoke softly.

The lantern light at the main gate shone on his face, half bright, half dark.

In the depths of his eyes, tears seemed to glisten faintly.

He remained silent for a long time, then bowed deeply to Luoshen before turning and walking away quickly.

Luoshen leaned against the door, watching the figure that mounted his horse and departed, finally disappearing into the hazy night, feeling melancholy.

His self-reproach, his guilt, his helplessness, and his regrets all transformed before her into that silent, deep bow.

In this lifetime, neither of them could ever return to yesterday again.

…

Lu Jianzhi returned to the Lu family home, dismounted at the gate. One of his attendants waited there, hurriedly approaching and whispering something anxiously in his ear.

Lu Jianzhi’s expression changed slightly. He immediately remounted and departed again.

…

Li Mu was departing for Jingkou tomorrow to prepare for the wedding. Tonight, Xu Mi hosted a farewell banquet at one of his luxurious private gardens outside the city. The evening banquet was attended by dozens of guests, with pearl songs and jade dances, extravagant beyond measure. When the feast ended, it was near the end of the Hai hour. Host and guests parted contentedly, and Xu Mi invited the guests to stay overnight in the garden with beautiful women as companions.

Li Mu politely declined, riding alone back to the inn where he had been temporarily staying these days.

In the deep autumn countryside, moonlight was cold and clear, wild paths appeared white, and everything looked desolate.

Reaching the side of a wild grove, wine surged up within him. Seeing a flat bluestone by the roadside like a natural bed, he stopped his horse, walked over, and lay down upon it.

All was silent, with only the faint rustling sound of Wuzhui grazing on wild grass nearby.

Li Mu closed his eyes.

After a moment, from the dark shadows in the grove where moonlight couldn’t reach, seven or eight night travelers silently emerged, rushing toward the bluestone where the man lay. In an instant, they surrounded him, brandishing knives and swords.

The killing blades glinted with streaks of cold white light under the moon.

Li Mu opened his eyes, slowly sat up from the stone, swept his gaze around, and finally fixed it on a person whose face was covered: “Lu Huanzhi?”

Seeing he was recognized, Lu Huanzhi yanked off his face covering and said through gritted teeth: “Li Mu, you’ve harmed my eldest brother to this extent and brought shame to our Lu family. How can I let you live in this world! Die!”

He drew his precious sword and, leading those men, charged at Li Mu together.

Accompanied by several sharp sounds of clashing blades, several men charging at the front cried out in pain and fell to the ground one after another.

Li Mu’s blade moved like lightning.

No one saw clearly how he drew his saber or how he severed those men’s swords.

Lu Huanzhi only saw a flash of white light. In the blink of an eye, the cold blade edge had swept past the tip of his nose.

So close that he could clearly feel the strange sensation of the fine hairs on his nose tip being shaved away by the blade.

Instantly, his whole body shuddered with horror.

The blade descended and stopped at his neck.

His sword-wielding arm hadn’t even completed a chopping motion before freezing ridiculously in mid-air.

A chill penetrated his skin through the cold blade edge.

“Li Mu! Do you dare kill me?”

He couldn’t move, but the pride of an aristocratic youth forced him not to show even half a trace of fear before this lowly man from a humble family.

He stiffly held his neck upright, though his voice trembled uncontrollably.

Li Mu smiled: “Naturally I wouldn’t dare kill Young Master Lu.”

He sheathed his saber and took the sword from Lu Huanzhi’s hand.

Lu Huanzhi wanted to resist but hesitated, finally only able to watch helplessly as Li Mu forcibly pried open his sword-gripping hand finger by finger.

The sword came into his possession.

Holding it toward the moonlight, Li Mu examined the horizontal blade for a moment.

“Fine sword.”

His eyes showed appreciation as he praised it, his fingers caressing the blade like a lover.

This precious sword was forged in Longquan. Lu Huanzhi had acquired it at great expense. The hilt was inlaid with gems, the blade could cut through hair, and he rarely left it behind—it was his most cherished personal possession.

Lu Huanzhi straightened his chest, but unexpectedly, with a sudden clang, Li Mu actually broke the long sword in half with his bare hands.

The blade shattered into several pieces, flew into the air, and fell to the ground.

Lu Huanzhi was stunned. Only after a long moment did he recover, his voice trembling even more violently: “Li Mu, how dare you humiliate me like this! You and I are irreconcilable enemies!”

“Young Master Lu, you’re still too young. If you want to seek revenge against me, this isn’t the right time. Wait a few more years.”

Li Mu placed the broken hilt back in his hand, whistled, and Wuzhui trotted over.

He mounted and rode away.

Lu Huanzhi’s hand gripping the broken sword wouldn’t stop trembling.

He stared fixedly at the back of the mounted figure ahead, suddenly snatched a bow from one of his followers, aimed at that retreating figure, and was about to shoot.

“Stop!”

A stern shout reached his ears.

Lu Huanzhi spun around to see his elder brother galloping toward them, reaching them in moments. He hurried to meet him.

“Eldest Brother—”

Lu Jianzhi dismounted, glanced at the broken blade on the ground and the armed followers, his face grave. He seized the bow from Lu Huanzhi’s hands, broke it in two, threw it on the ground, then strode toward Li Mu, saying: “My younger brother has greatly offended you. Thank you for showing mercy just now. I apologize on his behalf.”

Li Mu stopped in the middle of the road without dismounting, cupped his hands in salute, and spurred his horse onward.

Lu Jianzhi stared fixedly at his retreating figure. Under the moonlight, his expression was desolate.

“Li Mu, wait!”

He suddenly called out.

Li Mu stopped again.

Lu Jianzhi hurried after him, stopping in front of his horse.

“Li Mu, my skills were inferior to yours. I lost to you and have nothing to say. From now on, A’Mi is like my sister. I only ask one thing of you—regardless of your motives for seeking this marriage, please treat A’Mi well in the future. I would be eternally grateful.”

He bowed deeply to Li Mu and remained bent for a long time.

Li Mu narrowed his eyes.

“Young Master Lu speaks too seriously. From now on, she is my wife. If I don’t treat her well, who will?”

He pulled the reins, gave a low shout, and Wuzhui, feeling his sides suddenly tighten, neighed once, then galloped away carrying his master.