Jiang Zhiyi stared into Yuance’s eyes as he looked up at her, seeing her momentary panic reflected in his pupils.

Though the garden snake had slithered away, her heart was beating even more violently than during that terrifying moment. It felt like guilt for not truly caring for Shen Yuance, yet also like something else entirely.

This feeling was familiar, just like in the past few months when she was playing the role of Yiyi from the story, whenever she was close to him…

Jiang Zhiyi suddenly came to her senses, looking down to see their current position.

…This was too intimate, too close!

As her gaze fell, seeing her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in disbelief. She abruptly let go as if scalded.

But though her hands and feet had released, she remained suspended on him, unable to move an inch.

“Put me down…” Jiang Zhiyi pushed against him, breathing rapidly.

“Truly using and discarding at will.” Yuance sighed almost imperceptibly. His hand lingered on her waist, caressing it briefly before he was about to let her down—

Jiang Zhiyi’s lower back tingled, the ticklish sensation causing her to shudder convulsively. A surprised cry nearly escaped her as she almost fell.

As if he had unintentionally touched a sensitive point on her body, Yuance was also startled. He steadied her before gently placing her back on the ground. Looking down, he saw her cheeks slightly flushed as she rubbed her waist in embarrassment.

“Is that—” Yuance blinked at her, “your ticklish spot?”

“No!” Jiang Zhiyi glared at him, her legs wobbling like they might give out as she continued up the path. After a few steps, she turned back and saw him seemingly savoring her amusing reaction. “We’re going to pay respects to your brother, be serious.”

As they continued their winding journey upward, the heat in Jiang Zhiyi’s cheeks gradually subsided, and Yuance stopped joking with her.

She hadn’t noticed it near the base of the mountain, but the higher they climbed, the more she saw the shocking desolation of this solitary peak. Jiang Zhiyi completely forgot about the frightening snakes and the dirty mud, feeling only waves of coldness penetrating to her bones.

Looking at the bleakness all around, what appeared in her mind was the image of Shen Yuance in his fine clothes, laughing and cursing, riding freely through the streets of Chang’an. Such a vibrant young man, dead in the prime of his life, killed in battle protecting his country. Yet after death, far from having a hero’s shrine, he couldn’t even be buried in his family tomb, only in such a desolate wilderness…

When they finally reached their destination and saw the tombstone that couldn’t even bear a name, Jiang Zhiyi felt as if she had been firmly nailed to the ground. Unable to step forward, she stood frozen, staring at the crude grave and the crooked wooden tablet that seemed to have been erected hastily.

“Why is it so crude…”

Yuance stood beside her, gazing at the tombstone with a distant look in his eyes. In a low voice, he said, “Being crude means it won’t be disturbed.”

Jiang Zhiyi suddenly understood. Unlike a cemetery with guards, if the grave were built too elaborately on this lonely mountain, it might attract thieves. More importantly, if such an unmarked tombstone were too elegant, it might make the curious wonder about the identity of the person buried there. When Shen Yuance had first died in battle, no one could predict whether the twin substitution would succeed. Fearing that someone might become suspicious and come here to dig up the grave and verify the body, they had to be extremely cautious.

Even she found this scene difficult to accept, let alone Pei Xueqing.

Seeing Pei Xueqing standing motionless before the tombstone for a long time, Jiang Zhiyi compassionately turned away, deciding not to disturb her. She should let her have a proper conversation with Shen Yuance.

Yuance also remained standing in place, giving this time to Pei Xueqing. Although the grave was crude, the weeds on it had been recently cleared. Jiang Zhiyi guessed that he must have come to pay his respects days ago when he first returned to Hexi.

Standing at a distance, Jiang Zhiyi watched Pei Xueqing kneel before the grave and open her food box, her hands trembling uncontrollably. She suddenly wondered, with Pei Xueqing showing such devotion by traveling thousands of miles to pay her respects, Shen Yuance must have treated her very well in the past, right?

Was Shen Yuance completely different with Pei Xueqing than he was with her?

Some jumbled memories that she hadn’t had time to sort through slowly surfaced. Jiang Zhiyi suddenly remembered that last December, when she was watching Yuance participate in the horseback archery examination at Tianchong Academy, afterward she told him that it was her first time seeing him shoot arrows, and she hadn’t had enough.

Yuance seemed to have asked her the first time she watched.

She said, Yes, before at the archery field, didn’t you always pretend to be an amateur?

At the time, Yuance seemed to have acknowledged her words.

But the reason she said that was because the story mentioned that Brother Ace wasn’t truly a wastrel; he only pretended to be one because he was a hostage in the capital.

So, when Yuance, playing the role of his brother, acknowledged this, did it mean that the “beautification” of the male protagonist in the story was true?

“Did your brother already have martial skills while in the capital? Had he also studied military tactics?” Jiang Zhiyi suddenly turned her head and asked abruptly.

Yuance was startled by her question: “Didn’t you already know that?”

Jiang Zhiyi was taken aback. So… even these secrets the story had accidentally gotten right?

If Shen Yuance was merely pretending to be frivolous, then his terrible treatment of her back then…

Before she could think further, Pei Xueqing suddenly swayed.

San Qi moved to step forward, but saw that Pei Xueqing had steadied herself after stumbling.

“Let me go. It’s more appropriate for a woman.” Jiang Zhiyi lifted her skirt and hurried forward, bending down to ask, “Miss Pei, are you feeling unwell?”

Pei Xueqing wiped away her tears and raised her reddened eyes: “I’m fine.”

“Young Master Shen and I are right behind you. If you feel unwell in any way, please tell us.”

“If the Princess doesn’t mind the dirty ground, would you care to sit with me for a while?” Pei Xueqing pointed to the rush mat on the ground.

Jiang Zhiyi looked down at her feet. In the past, she would have minded, but today, seeing this solitary mountain and this lonely grave—

What was truly dirty in this world was not the mud, but the hearts of people that forced heroes to be buried in desolate mountains, unable to see the light of day.

“This is a hero’s resting place—how could it be unclean? If you don’t mind my company, I’ll join you.” Jiang Zhiyi knelt.

“Not at all. Having the Princess accompany me today is perfect, as I have some words I wanted to say to you on his behalf.” Pei Xueqing pointed to the tombstone.

“What words?” Jiang Zhiyi asked curiously.

“He did many excessive things to you in the past, said many harsh words, and wanted to apologize to you later.”

Jiang Zhiyi was startled, blinking in surprise: “Apologize…?”

“He told me that the first day you two became enemies, the cricket did accidentally jump onto you. He was used to acting like a scoundrel, so naturally put on the appearance of one, but he never expected you would have his cricket crushed to death.”

“He didn’t treasure that cricket so much. It was just that when he saw how you decided the life or death of a cricket with a wave of your hand, it reminded him of the Emperor who held the power of life and death, forcing him to remain trapped in the capital.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s throat tightened.

“So, initially, he greatly misunderstood you, Princess. He thought that because you had the Emperor’s favor since childhood, you were like those nobles, heartless and taking pleasure in controlling others’ lives. Since he was already committed to his role as a wastrel, he took every opportunity to oppose you…”

“Until one time when he went to the palace for a banquet and accidentally overheard you talking with your maid in the corridor. The maid asked why you forced yourself to smile in the palace on the death anniversary of the Duke of Ning. You said that precisely because it was your father’s death anniversary, you couldn’t show a sour face in the palace, lest the Emperor suspect you still resented your father’s sacrifice for his throne.”

“The maid asked again, if you were living righteously, what was there to fear? You replied that precisely because you had harbored resentment in your heart, you were not living righteously.”

These words did sound like something she had said, but Jiang Zhiyi had completely forgotten this incident, and certainly didn’t know that Shen Yuance had overheard these words at the time.

Pei Xueqing shook her head with a mix of smile and sigh: “That day, he finally understood that you, like him, were also an unfree person. He deeply regretted saying those heart-piercing words to you, but how could a wastrel apologize to someone he had hurt? He didn’t know when he would have the chance to say ‘I’m sorry’ to you…”

Jiang Zhiyi stood frozen in shock, staring at the unmarked tombstone for a long time without coming back to her senses.

This new story, so completely different from what she had known and felt before, seemed to turn all her memories of Shen Yuance upside down—the solitary grave before her and what she had just heard.

No wonder… in those final days before Shen Yuance left for battle, he seemed to have stopped picking fights with her. Instead, as if they couldn’t coexist, he no longer attended any banquets where she was present. Seeing this, she naturally refused to be outdone and would never set foot anywhere he might be.

Images flashed through her mind like fleeting shadows, but they were already so blurred, as if from a distant past.

Now, looking at this crude grave, when she tried to recall how terrible he had been, how he had opposed her, what hurtful things he had said—she couldn’t remember a single word.

After a long silence, Jiang Zhiyi was startled back to awareness by the fluttering sound of bird wings overhead.

If not for the misunderstandings of these past months, she might never have heard these truths in her lifetime.

Today, arranged by fate, she had come full circle to Shen Yuance’s grave and received the apology he could not express while alive. Perhaps it was time to put this old grudge to rest.

After some thought, Jiang Zhiyi picked up the wine flask beside her, poured a cup, tilted it at the rim, and slowly poured it on the grave.

“Shen Yuance, this cup is to apologize for my willful actions back then.”

She poured another cup and spilled it—

“This cup means I forgive you.”

Pouring a third cup, Jiang Zhiyi raised her head, toasting toward a bird flying across the blue sky above, and drank—

“This last cup is a wish that in the next life, may we both be truly free people.”

On the return journey, the carriage was silent. Jiang Zhiyi and Yuance escorted Pei Xueqing to the inn where she was staying before heading back to the manor.

After Pei Xueqing left, Yuance moved from outside to sit across from Jiang Zhiyi. Seeing her head lowered in low spirits, he asked, “What sad words did Pei Xueqing say to you earlier?”

Jiang Zhiyi asked in surprise: “You weren’t eavesdropping?”

“I owe my brother at least that much respect.” Yuance looked at her, recalling the solemn way she had offered those three cups of wine—a demeanor he had never seen from her before.

Jiang Zhiyi glanced at him, initially wanting to tease him, but seeing that though his words were light, his eyes were dimmed, she held back.

Although he had just paid respects to his brother days ago, it surely didn’t get easier no matter how many times he went, just like how she felt each time she visited her parents over the past eleven years. Jiang Zhiyi decided that today, for the sake of Shen Yuance’s “I’m sorry,” she would call a truce with his brother for one day.

“You and your brother were separated for many years. Was your relationship always good?”

Yuance narrowed his eyes: “You truly care about my brother.”

Jiang Zhiyi was at a loss for words: “Aren’t I asking about both of you? Can your ears only hear about your brother? If we’re talking about caring, aren’t I also caring about—”

“Caring about whom?” Yuance’s lips curved, encouraging her to continue as if guiding her along.

“No one. If you don’t want to answer, forget it. I don’t care that much anyway.” Jiang Zhiyi shook her head with a cold snort.

Yuance had never opened his heart to anyone about these matters. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer; he just didn’t know where to begin. After thinking, he asked in return: “If it were you, if you were enduring hardships at the border, being beaten and trained harshly, while your full-blooded sister lived in luxury in the capital, would your relationship be good?”

Jiang Zhiyi blinked thoughtfully, considering honestly.

“Probably… not.” Not only would it not be good, she thought she might even feel jealous and resentful.

“So—”

Yuance didn’t continue, but Jiang Zhiyi understood.

“Then why did you stop resenting him later? Because you learned he wasn’t having a good time in Chang’an either?”

Recalling these distant events, Yuance couldn’t pinpoint the answer. Perhaps it was as Jiang Zhiyi suggested, because he learned that his brother, like him, was not a free man. Or perhaps it was because, as twins meeting for the first time, they felt an immediate kinship. Or perhaps—

“Maybe because—” as if finding the most important reason, Yuance lowered his eyelids and said, “he was the first person in the world who couldn’t bear to see me bleed and suffer, who urged me to cherish my life.”

Jiang Zhiyi had only asked out of curiosity and truly hadn’t expected such an answer.

“The first…?” Jiang Zhiyi repeated in surprise. Had his father, who trained him so harshly from childhood, never shown him any care or concern?

Yuance suddenly looked up with a smile: “You were the second.”

Jiang Zhiyi was startled, remembering how he had been injured twice in Chang’an, and how she had been so anxious both times, crying and wailing…

But that wasn’t her—that was after she had hit her head. It was fake—

Jiang Zhiyi wanted to explain, to remind him, but looking at the smile in his eyes, and remembering that solitary grave where no one could ask if he was in pain, no one could urge him to cherish himself, she suddenly felt choked.

She recalled how he had asked her that day—Didn’t you say I’m the cleanest person in the world?

The denial that had slipped from her lips then, now seemed impossible to utter.