“Do you remember, how many times is this that we’ve met?”

Ye Tingyan leaped through the flower lattice window and settled onto the beauty couch where he usually sat. Hearing her question, he raised an eyebrow and thought seriously for a moment, but ultimately said: “We have met so very, very many times — I’ve lost count.”

The red candle had only burned halfway before the draft he brought with him when he entered the hall snuffed it out. Luowei stood before him and placed her hand on his shoulder, letting her fingers slide downward along the raised gold embroidery: “We have met so many times, and you have helped me with quite a few things, yet I have nothing with which to repay you.”

She bent her knees slightly, fingers gripping his sleeve: “Come.”

Ye Tingyan docilely let her pull him to his feet. Seeing her lead him toward her inner chamber, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat surprised: “Where is Her Highness taking me? What — have you decided not to kill me after all?”

Luowei turned her head and shot him an annoyed look: “It was clearly you who placed the blade in my hands that day — how can you turn around and blame me? If I had wanted to kill you, would you still be standing here now?”

That night, he had clearly seen the murderous intent in her eyes.

But in the end, she had not made her move.

And so Ye Tingyan pretended not to know, and only smiled: “Your subject is grateful for Her Highness’s grace.”

Luowei lifted the curtain made of red Buddhist banners and led him inside.

In her inner chamber, candles burned perpetually. At this moment, lotus phoenix-marrow candles capable of burning through the entire night were lit, slightly thicker and taller than ordinary ones, placed at either end of the cramped inner room, casting flickering candlelit shadows upon the hanging portrait.

The last time he had come, it had been too urgent to look carefully. Now, sweeping his gaze left and right, Ye Tingyan discovered that beyond the portrait and the offering table, the room contained only a narrow couch and two meditation cushions. Before the entrance to the hidden chamber he had entered previously stood a bookcase that occupied an entire wall — inside it, Buddhist scriptures, Taoist texts, and folk mythology were all jumbled together, along with many hand-copied sutras.

The garden outside Qionghua Hall was vast, with abundant trees. The hidden chamber lay nestled between the palace building and the pond. Had he not been pushed into it by Luowei the last time, it would have been nearly impossible to imagine that within this cramped inner room there could be yet another world entirely.

He was still standing before the Buddha, lost in thought, when suddenly two arms wrapped around him from behind, embracing him.

Luowei pressed close and rested her chin on his shoulder.

Ye Tingyan caught the scent of rose fragrance once more — it had shed its former purity and become rich and dangerous. Luowei’s hands traced down along his throat, yet did not advance boldly; hovering, half-touching, half-withdrawing, they paused just below his collarbone and pressed lightly.

The seductive intention was unmistakable.

Ye Tingyan turned around, recalling her words — “yet I have nothing with which to repay you.”

— So this so-called repayment was… like this?

Before he could think further, Luowei rose on her toes and kissed him softly.

Like a flower petal falling upon one’s lips.

She kept her eyes closed, her hands resting on his shoulders, kissing with complete absorption. As for such an offering, Ye Tingyan was naturally inclined to welcome it. Even without having yet figured out her sudden motive, he still allowed himself to sink in, and naturally, instinctively accepted her overture.

In the past, though the two had kissed, those kisses were either his seizure or her testing. When he had forced himself on Luowei, she always resisted; when Luowei had kissed him half-genuinely and half-falsely, he had always wondered in his heart whether she treated others the same way — and had not necessarily found much joy in it.

Perhaps it was because of witnessing Yu Qiushi’s self-inflicted death today, but his heart was now, strangely, at unusual peace — no jealousy, no resentment, only a measure of comfort drawn from a dear one’s elusive sentiments.

And so the kiss grew deeper and deeper. He wrapped his arm around Luowei’s waist, and pressing against her, they stumbled a few steps, searching for something to lean against — and thus the two of them, locked in an embrace, found themselves close to the long couch against the wall.

Luowei felt the couch at her back and was momentarily startled, then immediately understood, letting out a low knowing laugh as the two of them half-embraced and half-held each other and sat down.

Ye Tingyan pressed forward, bracing his arms on either side of her head, continuing the kiss in an almost entirely dominant posture.

Their breath became utterly disordered, tangling into a complicated knot, impossible to tell whose was whose. For the first time they were this close, each able to feel the rise and fall of the other’s chest.

Ye Tingyan raised his head slightly, giving her a moment to breathe, also wanting to calm himself — but Luowei would not let him go; supporting herself, she leaned over, her lips grazing his jaw.

“You’re so cold,” she said in a breath, her tone full of tender concern, “Your body is cold, your face is cold, even your lips are cold — only your palms…”

Luowei covered his hand with her own, her five fingers intertwining with his, then clasping tightly: “Are still this warm.”

In that cramped little world, before the Buddha, within the candles’ shadows, Ye Tingyan suddenly felt his eyes grow wet. He could no longer see anything else — before him was only her gentle expression, and that gentleness pressed upon him so fiercely he nearly shed tears then and there — they should have been like this, they should have been like this long ago!

No deception, no masks, no deep and fathomless thoughts flooding in like seawater that needed to be guessed at — only the warm breath close at hand, moist and warm and safe, declaring the belonging and attachment of flesh, so utterly transparent.

He clasped her hand in return and pressed it against the couch. Luowei felt that palm growing hotter and hotter, and his kiss gradually lost all restraint, becoming firm and lingering.

The faint scent of sandalwood, the faint scent of jasmine.

Candlelight flickered, conjuring illusions in the midst of this invasion. Luowei was dizzy, nearly drowning — just at the moment before she was about to sink, Ye Tingyan left her lips, and his kisses slid along her cheek to the side of her neck.

She had clearly been the one to take the initiative — so why was it the other party whose emotions had spiraled beyond control?

“I remember — you asked me many times—” Luowei barely steadied her thoughts, used her strength to slip free of his hand, and on her own initiative wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “You asked me whether anyone else had ever received such treatment…”

Ye Tingyan raised his eyes to look at her.

His eyes were very beautiful — or perhaps, most closely resembling someone’s. His eye slits were long, deep and captivating. Whether from the depth of passion or from the chronic eye ailment of many years, at this moment they were tinged with a flushed warmth resembling intoxication, lending him an even more stirring allure.

And the scene Ye Tingyan looked up to see was equally beautiful.

Luowei’s mother had been among the greatest beauties in the capital. She had inherited the best of both her parents — in childhood she had been charming and lovely as jade-snow, and in maturity she had grown enchantingly beautiful. When she would follow the palace ladies up to the tower to watch the top scholars parade in triumph, she always drew the admiring gazes of the scholars and literati riding past below.

After becoming Empress, that beauty had not diminished by a hair — it had gained instead a certain pride and serenity.

But now the Empress’s disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, and the burning intoxicated desire in her eyes had stripped away entirely the dignified and proper bearing she had always maintained before.

That glance made his heart pound even faster. Lost in a daze of emotion, he could only hear her soft words — whether true or false.

Luowei held him close and continued: “Even if someone showed interest in me, I would have to weigh whether the other party was worth it and what they were worth. Someone as useful as you, yet so bold — where is there a second one?”

She tightened her embrace, her tone somewhere between playful reproach and complaint: “…Tingyan, only you have received such treatment — never anyone else.”

The moment those words left her mouth, he believed them instantly.

Desire blazed sky-high, burning away all capacity for thought. He pressed her down on that small couch and kissed her shoulder and neck following the line of her collarbone. Noticing a sheer gauze in the way, he reached out and undid her collar, pulled with slight force, and drew away the clothing from her shoulder.

Luowei showed not the slightest resistance, merely allowing him to take what he wished.

In the past he might have felt a flicker of suppressed anger at her shamelessness and boldness — but now, having heard her “only you,” his eyes were so utterly full of warmth he could not think of anything else, wanting only to heedlessly demand more and more.

The inner chamber lay deep within the palace, but perhaps because it was close to the garden, a gust of howling wind suddenly swept past the outer wall. Ye Tingyan paused momentarily in the midst of passion. The instant his attention flickered, Luowei suddenly seized the moment to turn the tables — she flipped over and pressed him down onto that small couch, leaning over him and saying: “Do you know — tonight, His Majesty will come looking for me.”

Ye Tingyan’s chest heaved. Upon hearing these words clearly, his breath abruptly caught. Without waiting for him to respond, Luowei continued: “Has he not always suspected me of having a secret liaison with someone? He even dispatched you to investigate me again and again — today I knew you would come, so before you arrived, I specifically had someone deliver a message to him. Counting the time, he should be arriving now.”

Like a bucket of icy water poured over his head, chilling him to the bone. Ye Tingyan snapped awake at once and asked in disbelief: “…What did you say?”

Luowei perfunctorily kissed his cheek and said teasingly: “I said — His Majesty is coming. Are you afraid?”

Afraid?

He couldn’t really say. The moment he heard those words, he felt only bewilderment and disbelief.

This was the first time — the first time he could not see through her thoughts at all. He could only ask in astonishment: “You… why are you doing this?”

Luowei said to him with perfect composure: “Tingyan, do you know why the Grand Preceptor died?”

Ye Tingyan pulled himself free from his tangled thoughts and immediately blurted: “You want to—”

Before he could finish, Luowei swiftly asked: “Do you want to run?”

A creaking sound came from beyond the curtain — someone pushed open the wooden door of the sleeping hall. Ye Tingyan shivered. But Luowei remained unhurried and calm, only glancing toward the outside.

When the footsteps arrived outside the curtain, Ye Tingyan finally saw that the person wore the attire of an inner attendant — it was the palace servant he had often seen standing guard before the hall.

Zhang Suwu lowered her voice: “Your Highness, he is coming.”

Luowei made a sound of acknowledgment: “Understood. You may go first.”

And so Zhang Suwu received her orders and departed. Ye Tingyan wanted to rise, but Luowei reached out and pressed down on his chest, forbidding him to move: “Tingyan, let me give you two choices.”

Her hair was now disheveled, her clothing in disarray. His collar was likewise undone. Anyone seeing this scene could easily guess what they had been doing.

Even if he did not know Song Lan’s true feelings toward Luowei, no man could endure such humiliation — if Song Lan were to see this scene, they would both die without a burial place.

Yet Luowei remained this composed, speaking with clear articulation: “The first is… you lie here just like this, and wait for him to come in, see the two of us, and grant us both death. You said you like me, didn’t you? I believe you. To die alongside me in devotion would count as the ultimate faithfulness of a love that clings until death.”

“The second—” she brought her lips close to his ear, “I let you into the hidden chamber you entered before. I recall you said that once things were accomplished you wanted to go inside and have a look — very well, then go. However, there is no lit lamp in that hidden chamber now. If you are unfamiliar with it, you certainly won’t be able to find where to light a lamp, nor be able to find the mechanism to open the door. As long as I do not open the door, even if you die inside, no one will ever notice.”

“But you must think clearly — if you choose this path, you will be surrendering your life, death, honor, and disgrace entirely to me. Once you go in, there will be no turning back.”

Footsteps arose — though mingled with the sounds of cicadas in the late summer night, he could still hear them so clearly.

Ye Tingyan’s breathing quickened. He raised his head to look at her, and found that her face in the firelight seemed to flicker on and off, growing blurred.

Why had Yu Qiushi died?

It is easy to kill a person, but hard to save one.

It is easy to destroy a body, but hard to destroy a heart.

He thought slowly — no matter how elaborate the schemes and conspiracies, none of them could compare to the art of destroying the heart. The aim was to make another surrender willingly.

— Today, she wanted to destroy his heart. She wanted him to submit of his own free will — and for that, she was willing to wager her own life as the stake, forcing him to make a choice from which there was no return.

On the razor’s edge between life and death, Luowei actually laughed.

She reached out and brushed away the strands of hair by the ear of the person beneath her, and asked gently, urging him on: “Tingyan, have you made your choice?”