Guizhou, where the river flows like a blue silk belt, and mountains rise like hairpins of jade.

Li Ying had never been to Guizhou before, but she had heard of its famous landscapes. Though she longed to see them, Cui Xun had important matters to attend to and was physically weak, so even though she wanted to see Guizhou’s scenery, she hadn’t mentioned it once.

It was Cui Xun who took the initiative: “Governor Zhang has gone back to gather troops. Tomorrow morning, I’ll escort Shen Que to Chang’an. Since we have some leisure time today, let’s go see the Gui River.”

Li Ying looked at his pale, emaciated, sickly appearance and directly refused: “You’re already so ill, what Gui River do you want to see?”

Cui Xun picked up the snow-white fox fur robe from his sickbed and wrapped it around himself. He struggled to prop up his ailing body, a gentle smile appearing at the corners of his mouth: “We won’t come to Guizhou again in the future. If we don’t go today, we’ll regret it.”

When he got off the sickbed, his steps were unsteady. If not for Li Ying’s support, he would have stumbled and fallen. Li Ying knew he wanted to fulfill her wish, but seeing him like this, she couldn’t help feeling both angry and distressed: “So what if we regret it? What does it matter?”

Cui Xun gently shook his head: “Mingyuezhu, you said you wanted to cherish the present. I also cherish every day with you. I don’t want to leave any regrets.”

Li Ying’s nose tingled with emotion: “I just said that casually, yet you remember.”

“I remember every word you say.” Cui Xun wrapped the fox fur tightly around himself. When facing Li Ying, he no longer had the cold, gloomy demeanor of their first meeting, but instead, tenderness filled the corners of his eyes and brows. He said: “Let’s go and see the Gui River.”

By the time they reached the Gui River from the Guizhou Post Station, the bright moon was already high in the sky. Cui Xun simply hired a black-awning boat. He didn’t want the boatman to disturb them, so he and Li Ying traveled along the Gui River by night, just the two of them.

The waters of the Gui River were emerald green and crystal clear to the bottom. Li Ying had never seen water so green and so clear. She sat with Cui Xun at the bow of the boat, admiring the river and mountains, feeling as though they were in a realm of immortals, surrounded by more beauty than their eyes could take in.

The moonlight stretched like a belt, silver radiance pouring down. The river’s surface rippled with light, dreamlike and magical. Along the riverbanks rose steep mountains, ridge upon ridge. A single black-awning boat drifted leisurely amid the green mountains and blue waters, resembling a scene from an ink painting. At the bow of the boat, a beautiful young woman leaned against a frail young man wrapped in a snow-white fox fur robe—people within the painting, the painting within people.

The sound of water gurgled softly. In the distance, mountains appeared and disappeared in the night. When a breeze passed by, Li Ying rose from Cui Xun’s embrace and tightened his fox fur robe again: “Are you cold?”

Cui Xun shook his head. Li Ying looked worriedly at the moonlight: “It looks like it’s going to rain. Let’s go back first.”

But Cui Xun didn’t want to go back. He said, “Mingyuezhu, I want to stay with you a little longer.”

“We can stay together when we return to the post station as well.”

“It’s different,” Cui Xun said.

Li Ying didn’t understand: “Why is it different?”

At first, Cui Xun didn’t answer. He sat cross-legged in this small boat, gazing up at the vast mountains. After a while, he murmured: “I’m tired.”

This was the first time he had said these two words to Li Ying. Perhaps this magnificent scenery had slightly eased the burden that had been weighing on his heart for six years, finally making him willing to show a bit of vulnerability before the girl he loved most. After hearing this, Li Ying just smiled gently and said, “In the future, when you feel tired or in pain, tell me. Don’t bear it alone.”

Cui Xun nodded silently. A few raindrops fell on his face. He looked at the sky: “It’s raining. Let’s go inside the cabin.”

Outside the black-awning boat, river mist swirled. Inside, they listened to the sound of fine rain. Li Ying watched as raindrops fell on the river’s surface, creating tiny ripples. Resting her chin on her hand, she said: “Touring the Gui River in the rain has a unique charm.”

Cui Xun smiled: “Rain, mist, wind, and there should also be music.”

Li Ying’s eyes brightened: “Night boat, flute playing, rain rustling—if only we had a bamboo flute now, that would be perfect.”

Without a word, Cui Xun took out a bamboo flute from his bosom. Li Ying first exclaimed with delight: “You have a bamboo flute?”

Then she became confused: “When did you get it?”

“When we left the Guizhou Post Station,” Cui Xun said. “With such beautiful scenery, how could we not have elegant music?”

Li Ying smiled and took the flute: “Is this your little surprise for me?”

Cui Xun nodded: “Yes.”

This simple “yes” filled Li Ying with sweetness, as if tasting sugar frost. At this moment, she was like any ordinary young woman in the world, her heart full of joy because of her lover’s thoughtfulness. She and Cui Xun came from similar backgrounds and shared similar interests. If Cui Xun had been born thirty years earlier, or she thirty years later, or perhaps if the Cui Xun she met had been the Cui Xun of six years ago, the two of them could truly have been a pair of lovers who envied neither mandarin ducks nor immortals. They wouldn’t have had to bear the burden of a heavy past. In their leisure time, they could have played the zither and chess, savored tea and planted flowers, thinking about nothing, caring about nothing, just the two of them together.

But unfortunately, this was not possible.

However, even if they could not cast aside everything in this life, they could still cherish these moments of joy together.

Li Ying tossed the bamboo flute back to Cui Xun and said with a smile: “Deputy Chief Cui, you can play the flute, right?”

Cui Xun nodded. Li Ying asked: “Do you know ‘Water Melody’?”

Cui Xun smiled gently. He picked up the bamboo flute, placed it to his lips, and melodious flute sounds rose. Although he was severely ill, his body weak and without strength, his fingers not as nimble as usual, he didn’t miss a single note. Li Ying listened with rapt attention. The flute’s sound flowed like a clear spring, while the rain pattered on the roof of the black-awning boat, as if accompanying the flute. The two sounds intertwined, unusually harmonious and pleasant to the ear. Li Ying listened with her chin resting on her hand. Outside the cabin were the fishing lights along the river and the reflections of mountain peaks. At this moment, Li Ying felt as if all her troubles had been washed away, her mind filled only with this scene of a night boat, a playing flute, and rustling rain.

After finishing “Water Melody,” Li Ying also felt the urge to play. She took the bamboo flute and smiled: “Although I can play the flute, I’m more skilled with the jade zither. When we return to Chang’an, I’ll play a duet with you, zither and flute together.”

Cui Xun smiled faintly. Just as he was about to say something, a sudden clap of thunder broke through the night sky. Li Ying was so frightened that the bamboo flute fell from her hand. Cui Xun was startled for a moment. He slightly clenched his fingers, as if having made a great decision, and then embraced Li Ying, covering her ears with his hands, murmuring: “Mingyuezhu, don’t be afraid.”

He knew she was afraid of thunder. That time when he had helped Li Ying check the palace entrance records all night, there had also been thunder. Although Li Ying hadn’t said she was afraid, her face had turned pale with fear, and her body had been trembling constantly. Because he felt guilty toward Li Ying, he hadn’t attended the court session but had stayed to accompany her, giving her jade earplugs to put in her ears, which had helped her get through that night safely.

Now there were no jade earplugs, and although he still despised himself too much to dare defile Li Ying, he couldn’t bear to see her afraid. He took the initiative to embrace her, holding her trembling body tightly, his slightly cool palms covering Li Ying’s ears, shutting out the rumbling thunder.

Li Ying buried her head against his chest. After his long illness, his chest wasn’t as broad as that of martial men, but it was exceptionally reliable. His heart was burning hot, just like the line he had written: “Pure blood and loyal hearts illuminate history.” He always felt that only his fifty thousand comrades deserved to be called men of pure blood and loyal hearts, but wasn’t he also a vessel of pure blood with a loyal heart?

Li Ying quietly leaned against his embrace. She felt that the thunder seemed to be getting quieter, while the sound of his heartbeat became particularly clear.

Her body also stopped trembling. In her ears, he repeated over and over, “I’m here,” trying to cover the sound of thunder. Through his repeated assurances, the last trace of fear of thunder in her heart finally vanished completely. She reached out her arms, encircling his waist, and said softly: “I know. You’re here.”

And I’m here too.

The thunder, after sounding briefly, also stopped.

As the thunder ceased, Cui Xun also released Li Ying. At this moment, he returned to the state of not daring to embrace her on his own initiative. Li Ying didn’t mind. She adjusted his snow-white fox fur robe, looked into his pitch-black eyes, and smiled: “One day, you will have the courage to embrace me and kiss me.”

This caused the young man’s face to turn bright red again.

But moments of joy are always particularly brief. No matter how beautiful the scenery of the Gui River was, it was not Cui Xun’s destination. He would eventually have to return to the post station, hurry to Chang’an, and continue on his thorny path.

Early the next morning, Zhang Hongyi had already assembled five hundred elite troops. They brought Shen Que out from prison, put him in a prisoner’s cart, and delivered him to the entrance of the Guizhou Post Station.

Cui Xun pulled off the black cloth covering the prisoner’s cart and met Shen Que’s hateful gaze. After not seeing each other for several months, the once arrogant and handsome General from Chang’an no longer existed. In his place was a prisoner in chains with an emaciated appearance.

As soon as Shen Que saw Cui Xun, he rushed to the edge of the prisoner’s cart, gripping the wooden bars tightly with both hands. From his throat came a venomous voice: “Cui Xun! You lowly thing! I should have killed you long ago!”

The soldiers beside Cui Xun changed their expressions, worried that this reportedly equally arrogant Deputy Chief of the Investigation Department would fly into a rage and clash with the prisoner. But the young man, beautiful as a lotus, merely looked at Shen Que and smiled slightly: “Unfortunately, it’s not me who will die.”

“I know why you’ve come to Guizhou,” Shen Que sneered. “What do you want to know? I won’t tell you a single word! Even if you use all eighty-one cruel tortures of the Investigation Department, I, Shen Que, won’t say a word!”

Cui Xun scoffed: “Oh? Yang Heng has already been arrested, and the blood sword and bloody clothes have been dug up. Do you think you can refuse to speak?”

Shen Que was stunned. The next moment, he nearly crushed the prison bars: “Cui Xun! It must have been you. You had Ah’man lurking by my side! You lowly thing! Do you only know how to use women?”

When he mentioned Ah’man, Cui Xun’s expression gradually cooled: “How Ah’man came to be by your side, you know better than anyone. You, Shen Que, are a piece of trash worse than pigs and dogs. How dare you even mention her?”

“When she slept with me, who was she thinking of?” Shen Que’s eyes blazed, his teeth grinding audibly. It was the shame and anger of being betrayed after complete trust, the shame and anger of being betrayed by a beloved woman. His resentment mixed with jealousy: “Cui Xun! I tell you, even if I die, you won’t get half a word of testimony from me!”