However, although the Empress Dowager deeply despised Cui Songqing and, by extension, disliked Cui Xun, she still maintained a separation between public and private matters. Using the case of Cui Xun being slandered, she consulted with the court officials about executing Pei Guanyue. But the Emperor wanted to protect Pei Guanyue, and Lu Yumin even brought up an incident from six years ago when the Turks advanced south and Pei Guanyue defeated the Turkish cavalry at Ningshuo, preventing them from invading Chang’an. He said, “Without Secretary Pei back then, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Secretary Pei and Undersecretary Cui were at odds, and in a moment of anger, he made false accusations. This was his mistake, but I hope the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty will spare his life in consideration of his merit in resisting the Turks.”

After these words, everyone began to echo the sentiment. One censor even made a passionate plea: “Cui Xun surrendered to the Turks. Although he continues to deny it, the fact is indisputable. If we execute a meritorious official who saved the situation because of such a traitor, wouldn’t that dishearten people across the empire?”

“The Empress Dowager and Your Majesty might as well listen to what the common people are saying. The people say that Secretary Pei did this to eliminate a traitor—it was a desperate measure that can be understood.”

The scholarly officials further exclaimed: “If Secretary Pei deserves death, shouldn’t Cui Xun’s crime of surrendering to the Turks be reinvestigated?”

The implication was clear—there was dissatisfaction with how the Empress Dowager had single-handedly rescued Cui Xun from the Dali Temple prison in the past.

The scholarly officials had no fondness for Pei Guanyue, and even less for Cui Xun, yet they all stood on Pei Guanyue’s side in this matter. While Pei Guanyue could be spared the death penalty, he couldn’t escape punishment entirely. After deliberation between the Empress Dowager and the Emperor, Pei Guanyue was stripped of his official position and barred from future appointment.

This was why the Empress Dowager hadn’t agreed when Cui Xun demanded Pei Guanyue’s execution.

But Cui Xun had anticipated this outcome. He was well aware of his reputation. For three years, he had been the Empress Dowager’s blade, offending too many people, leaving him isolated. Who in the court would speak up for him? No one.

He wasn’t disappointed, nor did he ask the Empress Dowager to clear his name. He hadn’t expected to bring down Pei Guanyue in this instance anyway.

The only thing that concerned him now was how to tell Li Ying the truth.

Li Ying still didn’t know about the confession. She had gone to the execution grounds to witness Jin Ni’s punishment.

Jin Ni had been sentenced to death by lingchi (slow slicing) for defecting to the Turks and leading troops against the Great Zhou. That day, Chang’an was crowded with people who had come with their families to watch Jin Ni’s execution. Among the crowd, Li Ying saw Jin Ni’s mouth being gagged. With each cut, the crowd cheered loudly. After the execution was complete, the people even tore at his flesh and trampled his remains—a scene too gruesome to behold.

This grand celebration of justice made Li Ying’s heart pound, and she nearly vomited several times. When she left, her legs felt so light that she almost stumbled and fell.

She didn’t return to the Cui residence but wandered through the streets of Chang’an. People passing by were eagerly discussing Jin Ni’s punishment, but she didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to be in crowded places anymore, so she headed toward quieter areas.

Without realizing it, she reached the banks of the Qu River and walked into a grove. Looking up at her surroundings, she found herself in a winter plum forest.

This was the same plum forest where Cui Xun had brought her during the Lantern Festival. That night, after jumping into the cold Qu River to save Ah’man, Cui Xun’s body couldn’t hold out, but he stubbornly persisted until reaching this deserted plum forest before collapsing. It was perhaps at that moment when she began to grow curious about this man whom everyone despised but who possessed such immense self-pride. From there, her feelings had gradually deepened.

In the winter plum forest, the flowers had all withered, and the trees had sprouted jade-green new leaves. Though lush with greenery, they couldn’t compare to the stunning beauty of red plums in snow. Because of this, the plum forest was rarely visited. With the curfew hour approaching, Li Ying sat cross-legged under a plum tree for a long time without anyone coming by.

It wasn’t until the hem of a dark, black, crane-patterned robe appeared before her that she slowly raised her head.

She opened her mouth: “Cui Xun?”

Cui Xun nodded. He sat down on the ground in front of her. Li Ying asked, “How did you know I was here?”

Cui Xun replied, “There aren’t many places in Chang’an where you could go. I searched the places we’ve been before, and here you are.”

Li Ying tugged at the corner of her mouth, forcing a smile. Cui Xun gazed at her quietly and asked, “Why are you hiding alone?”

“I…” Li Ying pursed her lips but finally said, “I’m a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

Li Ying didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Jin Ni died just like that. Why didn’t you make him clarify that you never surrendered to the Turks?”

Cui Xun replied, “There was no need.”

Li Ying gave a bitter smile: “What do you mean no need? You just didn’t want to complicate matters.”

If Jin Ni were to clear Cui Xun’s name, the censors might question whether Cui Xun had personal motives. Li Ying continued, “When you interrogated Jin Ni, you probably didn’t even ask him to write a confession clearing your name, did you?”

Cui Xun remained silent. He had made Jin Ni write confessions about the Tianwei Army and about Li Ying, but none about himself.

Seeing his expression, Li Ying understood most of what had happened. She sighed and said, “Do you intend to carry this infamy to your grave?”

Cui Xun’s eyes were as calm as a deep pool: “I don’t care about my reputation.”

It was the answer she expected.

Li Ying said bitterly, “You only care about your fifty thousand wronged brothers.”

Cui Xun didn’t speak. He merely lowered his gaze slightly, his long black lashes hiding his eyelids, preventing Li Ying from seeing the expression in his eyes. Li Ying paused, then asked, “Cui Xun, besides the fifty thousand unjustly killed Tianwei soldiers, is there nothing else in this world that you care about?”

Cui Xun’s eyelashes trembled. After a long silence, he finally said softly, “There is.”

Li Ying couldn’t help but look at him. Cui Xun’s fingers gradually tightened, but he didn’t continue. Instead, he said, “I sought you out in this plum forest to tell you something.”

He still kept his eyes lowered, not daring to look at her. He feared that if he saw her limpid eyes, he wouldn’t have the heart to continue.

With difficulty, he began, “When I was interrogating Jin Ni, I learned some truths from thirty years ago.”

He said, “The truth is somewhat cruel. I thought you might not be able to bear it, and I didn’t know how to face you. That’s why I haven’t returned to the Cui residence these past few days. But then I thought, I shouldn’t deprive you of your right to know the truth just because I think you can’t handle it. I should respect you, not make decisions for you.”

He took out a rolled piece of white hemp paper from his sleeve. His fingers, gripping the paper, tightened and then loosened. Finally, he handed it to her: “Whether to read it or not is your decision.”

Li Ying took it in confusion, but didn’t dare to open it: “What do you mean by ‘cruel’?”

Cui Xun didn’t answer directly but asked, “Back then, when you heard the palace maids at the Lotus Pond say that your mother killed you, how did you feel?”

Li Ying didn’t understand why he suddenly brought this up. Her mother hadn’t killed her—hadn’t he told her this himself? Although confused, she recalled her feelings at that time. Her brows furrowed, and her beautiful face was filled with pain: “I didn’t believe it.”

“If the palace maids hadn’t mentioned it, would you have ever suspected your mother?”

“Never.” Li Ying firmly denied it. “I would never doubt my mother.”

Cui Xun nodded. After a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, “Your mother was good to you, so you don’t suspect her. What about your father?”

Li Ying looked at him in disbelief: “My father was even better to me. I would never suspect him either.”

Cui Xun gave a bitter smile: “Yes, among the late Emperor’s many children, he especially cherished the Princess. Even the princes didn’t receive half the affection that the Princess did.”

His unexplained mention of her father gave Li Ying a bad feeling: “Cui Xun, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”

Cui Xun slowly raised his eyes, his usually calm gaze now filled with struggle and sorrow: “If the Princess doesn’t open this confession, then the family joy in her memory will remain one of being cherished, of parental love. But if the Princess opens it, everything will be like a dream bubble. I hope the Princess won’t open it, but the right to choose shouldn’t be mine.”

Hearing these words, Li Ying’s fingers holding the hemp paper began to tremble. Her eyes were bewildered as her fingers tightly gripped the confession. If she were to tear up this confession, she would still be that beloved little princess. But one shouldn’t live like that—one shouldn’t live in self-deception.

The truth was within reach. No matter how cruel, she had to uncover it.

With trembling fingers, she finally opened the confession. Reading the crooked characters on it, Li Ying’s face grew increasingly pale, and her gaze became more and more confused. Before she was halfway through, she crumpled the confession into a ball and threw it forcefully: “It’s fake! This is fake!”

But before Cui Xun could speak, she stumbled over to pick up the confession and spread it out to read again. This time, she read it extremely carefully, going over it several times as if trying to find discrepancies. But even after the final reading, when she could recite every sentence, she still couldn’t find any inconsistencies.

Large teardrops finally spilled from her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she slowly stood up and walked out of the plum forest in a daze. Cui Xun followed her with concern. Li Ying had only taken a few steps when her body began to collapse. Cui Xun caught her in time and said, “Princess…”

Li Ying’s face had turned extremely pale: “He is the father of the empire, but what about me… am I not his daughter?”

She murmured, “Were his sixteen years of love for me all fake?”

Cui Xun didn’t know how to comfort her. He only felt his heart being torn apart in pain. He said, “The late Emperor’s love for the Princess wasn’t fake. It’s just that he didn’t choose the Princess…”

Li Ying smiled sadly: “Yes, everyone says my death was a great benefit for the empire. As an emperor, he chose the empire. He wasn’t wrong. But he was my father, my most beloved father. How can I accept that my father wanted to kill me?”

She shook her head with a bitter smile: “I really can’t accept it…”

Cui Xun felt her body growing terrifyingly cold. He watched helplessly as tears continuously fell from her face. He understood her feelings. If she had been like him, never receiving her father’s love, then when her father abandoned her, she wouldn’t have been so heartbroken. But she had received that love. The late Emperor had let her be the most beloved princess for sixteen years, making her the most envied person in the Great Zhou, only to ruthlessly kill her. How could she not be devastated to the core?

Li Ying’s body was on the verge of collapse. She looked at Cui Xun in bewilderment, her eyes empty as if she had lost all hope: “Cui Xun, what is real anymore?”

Cui Xun felt as if thousands of blades were cutting through his heart, making it difficult to breathe. He suddenly embraced her and called out the name that had lingered in his heart thousands of times: “Mingyuezhu…”

He held her tightly and, not knowing how to comfort her, awkwardly repeated the words she had once used to comfort him: “I will stay with you. I will always stay with you…”

His arms encircled her firmly, as if wanting to merge her into his own body. Held in his embrace, Li Ying heard his heartbeat—one beat after another, utterly sincere.

This, at least, must be real.

Li Ying closed her eyes, tears of pain continuing to fall, soaking Cui Xun’s collar.

In the desolate plum forest, as Cui Xun whispered “I will stay with you” over and over in her ear, she finally raised her arms to encircle his waist. In the vast darkness of night, they embraced each other.