Shen Yuance quickly obtained an ointment from Li Dafeng and sat on the edge of the bed to apply it to Jiang Zhiyi’s neck, gently spreading it over the reddened marks: “Does it hurt?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said it doesn’t…” Jiang Zhiyi answered him for what felt like the umpteenth time. “Fine, it hurts, it hurts terribly, hurts so much I want to bite you!”

Shen Yuance continued applying the medicine with furrowed brows. Looking at his deeply troubled expression, Jiang Zhiyi suspected that if he could, he would bite himself to death.

Shen Yuance wiped away the remaining ointment from his fingertips and tilted his neck: “Go ahead, bite me.”

Jiang Zhiyi leaned forward and bit down on his Adam’s apple.

As her teeth grazed his Adam’s apple, it triggered a shiver that wasn’t painful but rather ticklish. Shen Yuance’s hand resting on his knee suddenly tensed: “…Who told you to bite there?”

“You’re all mine, why can’t I bite wherever I want?”

“This is a military camp. Do you want me to be the first to break discipline?” Shen Yuance looked down at her.

“Even if you wanted to break it, I wouldn’t let you. Right now, there’s something more important to do.”

“What is it?”

Jiang Zhiyi pointed outside the tent: “This Princess wants to see the sunrise.”

Two quarters of an hour later, Jiang Zhiyi and Shen Yuance shared a single mount, with him embracing her from behind as they rode along the winding mountain path, the horse’s hooves clopping steadily forward.

The horse wasn’t galloping, and the late summer breeze after the rain came gently against their faces, neither hot nor cool, just pleasant.

Seeing the sky gradually change from complete darkness to a grayish-blue, Jiang Zhiyi looked back and said: “The sky is already brightening. You’re riding so slowly—will we reach the mountaintop before sunrise?”

Shen Yuance glanced at her: “If I ride faster, you’ll be jolted, and tomorrow your legs will be so sore you won’t be able to get out of bed. People will think I did something to you.”

…If only she didn’t understand what he meant.

Jiang Zhiyi silently turned her head back around, cleared her throat, and changed the subject: “Aren’t you going to ask about the Fourth Prince and me?”

“Not curious.”

“Well, I still want to clarify. My friendship with him only lasted until I was just over ten years old. At that time, I didn’t understand anything and just saw him as a playmate. The fact that he remembers I don’t eat dumplings is probably because it’s such an unusual food aversion—after all, everyone eats dumplings during the New Year.”

Shen Yuance let out a low grunt.

She might have been too young to know better, but Qi Yan was five years older than her—how could he not understand?

If the Fourth Prince truly regarded her merely as a childhood playmate, he wouldn’t have deliberately avoided her after giving up their marriage arrangement and ceased all contact. Nor would he have shown that expression when she said, “People change, I’m different from before,” or lowered his eyelashes when seeing the two of them being affectionate.

Of course, there was no need to tell Jiang Zhiyi any of this.

The sky gradually brightened from a grayish light blue, and the horizon began to glow a rosy red. Jiang Zhiyi urged Shen Yuance: “Is your horse capable or not? Don’t worry about whether I can get out of bed tomorrow—hurry, hurry!”

Shen Yuance raised his whip, and the black war horse shot forward like the wind. Jiang Zhiyi, clutching the saddle, let out a startled cry as she lost her balance, only to be secured by a strong arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

Feeling as if she might be jolted into the air, Jiang Zhiyi’s heart pounded wildly, her half-bound black hair dancing in the wind: “I didn’t mean this fast!”

Shen Yuance raised his eyebrows: “Who told you it wasn’t capable? Horses have their pride, too.”

“Is it the horse that has pride, or you?” As they approached a bend in the mountain path, Shen Yuance didn’t even pull the reins but continued racing around the curve like a gust of wind. Jiang Zhiyi cried out in alarm, “Are we going to fall off the cliff? Am I going to be the first person in history to accidentally die with my lover while watching the sunrise? If the Great Ye’s history books record such a thing, Princess Yongying’s face would be completely disgraced!”

Shen Yuance laughed heartily in the wind: “Unfortunately, I can’t let my fiancée be disgraced like that.”

“…” Those who wouldn’t have their names recorded in history books could afford to be fearless.

The fearless one raised his whip again, and the war horse shot forward like a shooting star chasing the moon toward the mountain peak. Jiang Zhiyi screamed and tightly shut her eyes: “Ahhh—!”

Just as her voice grew hoarse and her throat felt like it was on fire, the horse’s hooves suddenly reared up and came to an abrupt halt. Jiang Zhiyi, panting heavily, clutched the saddle tightly, gathering her scattered wits.

Shen Yuance pulled the reins and turned the horse’s head: “Open your eyes.”

Jiang Zhiyi opened her eyes and looked up, just in time to see thousands of rays of golden light tear through the clouds, floating in the vast expanse of heaven and earth. The newborn sun leaped out from between the majestic mountains. In an instant, the mountain mist dispersed, and daylight filled the sky.

Jiang Zhiyi gazed at the brilliantly lit horizon, slowly regulating her breathing. After quietly watching for a while, she suddenly turned back: “Feeling better?”

Shen Yuance was startled, withdrawing his gaze from the horizon to look down at her: “What?”

“Once, when I was little, I had a nightmare and woke up in the middle of the night, too scared to go back to sleep. My father took me to see the sunrise. Father said that the frightening monsters in dreams come from our inner demons. If our hearts face the sun, we can see the light of day, and those frightening things won’t come near us.” Jiang Zhiyi hadn’t thought about these memories for a long time; she only remembered them when she saw Shen Yuance having a nightmare. “I brought you to see the sunrise—is your nightmare any better?”

Shen Yuance’s gaze flickered as he stared intently into her eyes.

Those eyes reflected the brilliant light of the sky, and they also reflected him.

The damp, dark images from his dream reappeared in his mind. Shen Yuance slowly raised his eyes to look toward the distant capital region, as if seeing once more that towering, cold, deep palace.

Back then, before his father had a chance to raze that deep palace to the ground, the late Emperor had already passed away. So his father had transferred his hatred for one person to all similar people, telling him they all deserved to die just the same.

Initially, when he entered the city called “Chang’an” (meaning “Eternal Peace”), he wanted to end its peace, to destroy all the high and mighty people in that deep palace, perhaps including Jiang Zhiyi, whom he had never met at that time.

He wanted to destroy those who controlled life and death as if trampling on ants, to overthrow the dynasty they had carefully built, but he had never thought about taking that supreme position himself.

Before entering that city, he had countless times imagined the outcome of that day.

When the palace walls collapsed, the bricks shattered, the palaces fell into raging fires, and everything turned to ashes, he might also have perished in the flames along with that deep palace, ending his life that no longer had meaning.

Tonight was the closest he had ever come to that outcome.

Marching thousands of li to aid the Emperor, leading troops to this point—there would never be a better opportunity than tonight. With just one command from him, those warriors his father had cultivated would have laid down their lives, charging into battle.

But that outcome was never meant for someone who feared death and clung to life.

“Pitiful bones by the riverside with no fixed place, still a person in a spring boudoir dream”—when he understood this poem, he became increasingly attached to living and increasingly wanted to leave the opportunity to live to those warriors who also had loved ones.

He knew clearly that even without that imperial edict tonight, without the capital army camped opposite them, without the Fourth Prince’s hints, he would not have led them down that path.

He had held the butcher’s knife, approaching step by step that deep palace his father had described as deeply sinful, but because of an unexpected incident that fell from the sky midway, he was pushed in a direction opposite to his predetermined outcome.

Perhaps it wasn’t that he no longer hated, but rather that he wanted love more.

His father had never taught him to love, apparently because he feared that if he obtained love and saw the light, he would put down the butcher’s knife in his hand.

Shen Yuance slowly returned his gaze, looking at the horse that had halted at the cliff’s edge, looking at Jiang Zhiyi, who was staring at him without blinking. He embraced her tightly from behind: “Jiang Zhiyi, with you here, I won’t have nightmares anymore.”

Jiang Zhiyi smiled and grasped his hand that was around her waist: “That’s good.”

At the hour of Chen (7-9 a.m.), the Xuance Army and the capital army faced each other across that invisible boundary like the Chu River and the Han border. Each turned their horses around, one heading west, the other east.

Shen Yuance temporarily handed over command of the army to his deputy and had Li Dafeng accompany him to escort Jiang Zhiyi back to the capital.

Since they had come this far, it was natural for Li Dafeng to go to Chang’an in person to examine and treat the Marquis Yongen.

As for himself, he shouldn’t linger after suppressing the rebellion. Moreover, a few days ago, he had received a message from Mu Xinhong, who was guarding the Western River region, informing him that the Western Lü tribe had been active recently, frequently harassing the border, and looting money, grain, and supplies from Western River civilians. They probably knew about the Great Ye’s internal strife and intended to take advantage of the situation.

So, at most, he would escort Jiang Zhiyi to the outskirts of Chang’an before turning back to rejoin his army and return to the Western River as quickly as possible.

After three days of travel, they arrived at the last courier station, several dozen li from Chang’an city.

Jiang Zhiyi entered the station where they had stayed during the Lantern Festival. At that time, she had been traveling to the Western River with Shen Yuance; now she had to bid him farewell here again. After finishing the evening meal and bathing, as bedtime approached—with the knowledge that when she woke up, they would part—she couldn’t help sighing repeatedly to Shen Yuance in their room.

“How the tables have turned! Last time we were here, Military Doctor Li and Sister Bao Jia were saying their sad goodbyes. Now, Military Doctor Li can go to Chang’an and reunite with Sister Bao Jia, while we truly won’t see each other until the year’s end.”

Jing Zhe had left them alone for some private time. Shen Yuance, acting as Jiang Zhiyi’s male servant, was sprinkling insect and snake repellent herbs in the corner of the bedroom.

Due to the rainy days recently, the herbs had become somewhat damp and weren’t sprinkling smoothly. Shen Yuance, at the edge of his patience, shook the sachet while responding to her: “Go back and keep a close watch on those hundreds of days’ worth of wedding clothes you need to make. If they’re not finished by the year’s end, I might be too lazy to marry you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jiang Zhiyi, lying on the bed, counted on her fingers. “I think if all goes well, they should be finished by the eighth month. That would still mean waiting for you for four whole months. If you can’t make it by the year’s end, I’ll be the one too lazy to marry!”

Shen Yuance finished sprinkling those herbs, which were truly unnecessary with him present, and turned to pinch her chin: “If you won’t marry, then I’ll just carry you off.”

Jiang Zhiyi slapped his hand away: “You dare put those insect and snake repellent herbs on my face? Have you fallen out of love with me?”

“…”

Shen Yuance raised his other hand: “I used this hand to sprinkle them, my ancestor.”

“Then hurry up and bathe. There are only a few hours left until dawn. Hurry to bed.”

If she wasn’t worried about snakes and insects in the summer night, would he have been busy until now? Shen Yuance turned and took a set of casual clothes into the bathhouse.

Jiang Zhiyi lay on the bed, listening to the flowing water sounds from the bathhouse that seemed like the passage of time, continuing to sigh.

Just as she was sighing, she raised her eyes and inadvertently glanced at the half-open window nearby. Suddenly, she saw a slender, bright green bamboo stick slanting by the window.

Did this courier station have a bamboo grove outside the window? She didn’t recall seeing one earlier.

In the next moment, as Jiang Zhiyi was still puzzled, that bright green slender bamboo suddenly “came alive,” squirming and crawling onto the windowsill, raising a triangular, flat head.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in shock: “Ah—! Yuance, Yuance, Yuance, Yuance…!”

The water sounds in the bathhouse abruptly ceased. A few breaths later, the door was pushed open, and Shen Yuance rushed out in one stride, immediately spotting the green creature on the windowsill.

At the same time, Jiang Zhiyi flew up from the bed with an agility she had never shown before, leaping toward Shen Yuance, her legs barely hooking around his waist.

Shen Yuance held her with one arm while drawing the long sword from the rack with his other hand. With a flash of the blade, the snake was flicked out the window. In the next instant, with a click, the window was shut, sealing off the danger.

Jiang Zhiyi, still shocked, clung to Shen Yuance’s neck and looked back, breathing rapidly: “Didn’t—didn’t we sprinkle the herbs?”

Shen Yuance closed his eyes, calming his heart that had never beaten so fast in his life, and swallowed gently: “Perhaps because your herbs were damp.”

“What? Then the damp ones certainly wouldn’t work. Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Jiang Zhiyi turned back to look at him.

“How would I know how to use the things of noble people?”

Jiang Zhiyi freed one hand from around his neck and pressed it to her heart: “I almost died here. Thank goodness, thank goodness you came so—”

Hmm? How did he come so quickly?

Jiang Zhiyi stopped mid-sentence, gradually leaning back and lowering her eyes, tracing from his bare upper body down to his lower half, which was wrapped only in a wet cloth.

Shen Yuance followed her gaze and looked down.

In the next instant, as quickly as she had leaped up, she scrambled down; as quickly as he had rushed out, he rushed back.

Jiang Zhiyi tumbled back onto the bed, recalling the color and outline she had vaguely seen through the thin, wet cloth, and covered her face, which had turned bright red.

In the dead silence, the water sounds from the bathhouse didn’t resume for a long time.

Jiang Zhiyi quietly parted her fingers to create a small gap, hesitantly looking toward the bathhouse screen, and saw a tall, rigid figure with his back against the door.

“What—what’s wrong…” Jiang Zhiyi asked cautiously.

Shen Yuance didn’t respond, seemingly still frozen there, trying to calm something.

She should say something to ease the atmosphere…

Should she say she didn’t see anything? That would be too obviously false.

But apart from pretending not to have seen, what else could she say to comfort him?

After struggling for a long time, Jiang Zhiyi finally mustered her courage and took a deep breath: “…Don’t be embarrassed. It’s not shameful. I think… it looks better than in the paintings.”