Ziqing sat dazed on the warm couch, letting Hongyi ask question after question without answering or moving at all, exactly as she had that night on the government office rooftop.

“My lady, please don’t take it too hard. Even if my lord marries Situ Xin’er, you’d still be his principal wife—there’s only one true Prince Yao’s consort!” Hongyi urged anxiously, and perhaps she’d read the situation more accurately than anyone.

Her mistress was jealous. As stubborn as she was, she was clearly consumed with jealousy, and yet, rather than express it outright, she seemed determined instead to provoke her own husband’s anger.

Hearing this, Ziqing finally looked up at Hongyi, her expression blank.

Hongyi had long since grown used to her silences, watching her now—so plainly forlorn, like a child who’d been cast aside, yet stubbornly holding her face still, her eyes faintly reddened even as her expression remained utterly impassive.

“My lady, it’s perfectly normal for a man to have three wives and four concubines, especially one who’s a prince besides. Hongyi may not have served in the palace, but I’ve seen plenty of the rivalries that go on in the harem all the same. Do you know why the Emperor dotes so much on Consort Yi?” Hongyi asked gently.

Ziqing gave no response, and it was unclear whether she’d even been listening.

Hongyi, undeterred, pressed on. “It’s because Consort Yi never confronts the Emperor directly, especially not over matters like jealousy! My lady, what man doesn’t have a few women around him? Whoever bothers him the least, he’ll naturally favor the most.”

Even after saying all this, Ziqing still showed not the slightest reaction.

Hongyi, aching to see her mistress like this, gave her a gentle nudge, saying helplessly, “My lady, don’t shut yourself up like this and make yourself miserable—my lord doesn’t even know!”

“My lady, the smartest thing a woman can do is never fight over a man openly in front of him—give him room to be gracious, and he’ll naturally gravitate toward you on his own. The next approach, while not quite as clever, isn’t foolish either—that’s making a fuss, being jealous, just like Situ Xin’er, crying in front of him so he feels for you. Crying isn’t about bothering him—it’s about letting him know just how much you care, how hurt you really are.”

At this point, Ziqing finally showed some reaction, her lovely brows drawing together faintly.

Seeing this, Hongyi brightened at once and pressed on eagerly. “My lady, there’s one more approach too—and it’s exactly what you’re doing now, the most foolish one of all. You clearly care so much, and yet you keep being so stubborn with my lord—how is he supposed to know you’re jealous, how is he supposed to know you care? My lord’s bound to think you’re just being unreasonable, just bothering him over nothing! Didn’t he just storm off angry a moment ago?”

To her surprise, Ziqing murmured instead, “Hongyi, does that even count as love, though?”

Hongyi was caught completely off guard by the question. Love—what exactly was love?

“Hongyi, if a man expected you to resort to every trick imaginable, to compete against other women, just to win over his heart—what would be the point of wanting him at all?” Ziqing asked flatly.

Hongyi was stumped, having no idea how to answer such a question—in her own worldview, this wasn’t even something one needed to ask at all.

What was the point of competing? To be cherished, doted on, cared for, protected, of course.

Suddenly, Ziqing leaned slowly onto the low table, resting her head on her folded arms, and smiled faintly. “Hongyi, have you ever dreamed of love?”

Hongyi’s face flushed at once, suddenly bashful.

Ziqing smiled and beckoned her closer. Hongyi hesitated for a moment before genuinely settling down beside Ziqing, leaning on the table just like her—from a distance, the two of them looked exactly like a pair of sisters having a heart-to-heart.

“You must have thought about it, haven’t you,” Ziqing said flatly. Almost every girl dreamed of it at some point—imagining the kind of man she might one day meet, how wonderful he’d be, how deeply he’d cherish her.

Hongyi nodded shyly, too bashful to meet Ziqing’s eyes.

“I’ve thought about it too,” Ziqing admitted freely—this was, after all, the first time she’d ever leaned in like this to have a heart-to-heart with another girl.

Ever since completing her mercenary training, her life had consisted of nothing but missions—and time and again, drenched in blood, disheveled and filthy, utterly exhausted, how she’d longed for a man who wouldn’t make her wait endlessly, who wouldn’t require her to fight, to beg, to have to spell out exactly what she needed.

Someone who would simply appear when she needed him most, gently wiping the blood from the corner of her lips, never disgusted by how filthy she was, never worried about offending any faction or power, never afraid of the judgment of the world—someone who would simply tell her, “Let’s go home. Don’t worry about any of it. I’ll handle everything.”

Ziqing said nothing more, but Hongyi could clearly see a bright, shimmering light in her eyes—the purest kind of hope imaginable.

That look in her eyes stirred something hopeful in Hongyi too, unable to stop herself from speaking up. “My lady, I’ve thought about it many times too. I hope that one day I’ll meet someone with lots and lots of money—so, so much money—and I could bring him back to the countryside, give my parents something to be proud of, show everyone who ever looked down on us!”

The moment she said this, Ziqing burst out laughing.

She could have easily granted Hongyi’s wish herself, but seeing the earnest, hopeful look in Hongyi’s eyes, she said nothing—having something to hope for was such a wonderful thing, especially when it came to dreaming of one’s future other half.

She simply laughed, unconsciously having already forgotten the earlier unpleasantness entirely.

Hongyi asked eagerly, “My lady, my lady, and what about you?”

The moment the words left her mouth, Hongyi herself froze in shock—only then remembering that the woman in front of her was already a married woman, and her husband, no less, was the very man every woman in the realm dreamed of having: Prince Yao himself!

Startled as Hongyi was, Ziqing herself seemed entirely unaware of this fact, looking every bit like an unmarried girl, her lovely face tinged with faint, unmistakable bashfulness, leaving Hongyi utterly stunned—she’d never imagined her mistress could have such a soft, girlish side to her at all!

Watching her, Hongyi couldn’t bring herself to interrupt, desperately curious to know just what kind of man she had tucked away in her heart.

Ziqing smiled softly, murmuring quietly, “No matter… no matter how complicated my soul might become, before midnight strikes, there will always be someone who comes, calm and unhurried, to sweep away all the tangled mess, and take me home.”

Hongyi didn’t quite understand, and was about to ask further, but Ziqing had already risen to her feet, letting out a sigh. “It’s getting late. Let’s get some sleep.”

“My lady… my lord, he… my lady, my lord is the best there is, no one in the world is better than him. If you just win his heart, you can have anything you want!” Hongyi said hurriedly, only belatedly sensing something was off—her mistress seemed entirely unaware she even had a husband at all!

“Go on, go on, I’m tired,” Ziqing said, evading the question. She thought to herself—in a world with such rigid notions of chastity as this one, she would surely never find such a man, not ever.

Besides, she couldn’t even get past her own reservations on the matter!

Hongyi wanted to press further, but Ziqing simply pushed her out the door. “I’m tired, I want to sleep. No one’s to disturb me, whoever it is!”

“But… my lady, my lord said he had two matters to discuss with you!” Only then did Hongyi remember what Jun Beiyue had said at the door earlier. Unfortunately, the lights in Ziqing’s tent had already gone dark, and there was no response at all.

Two matters? At this late hour, what good news could there possibly be?

Ziqing lay down on her side on the couch, slowly closing her eyes—and it was exactly then that…