One with wide, startled eyes, the other with a tense, frozen expression—two people who, at their core, were both about as coldly composed as anyone could be, and yet here they were, caught in such a ridiculous moment!

Suddenly, Ziqing burst out laughing. “Hahaha, that was so ugly!”

Xuanyuan Lige immediately broke into a grin as well, laughing just as foolishly. “Heh, little one, you look so lovely when you smile—why don’t you do it more often?”

Little one?

Neither of them noticed the slip of that particular word. The two of them laughed together, and to everyone’s surprise, Ziqing playfully pulled a silly face right back at Xuanyuan Lige!

For a moment Xuanyuan Lige couldn’t quite process it, his own eyes going wide with shock, exactly as Ziqing’s had a moment before.

Ziqing immediately leaned in closer, hooking her little fingers at the corners of her mouth, thumbs pulling down at her eyes, sticking her tongue out repeatedly.

Xuanyuan Lige was even more startled, utterly unable to process what he was seeing—he caught a faint glimpse, on this girl’s face, of something like a thin membrane, wrinkling and shifting where her small face contorted so dramatically from the silly expression!

There was something on her face!

Could it be that she was truly…

He instinctively wanted to reach out and pull at it, but held himself back, forcing his lips into a perfunctory smile instead.

Before long, Ziqing had returned to normal, saying cheerfully, “Uglier than yours, I bet! Hahaha!”

Xuanyuan Lige laughed, shaking his head helplessly.

Ziqing, satisfied at last, waved at him. “I’m off then. Don’t worry, I’ll practice diligently—I’ll aim to surpass you one day!”

“Heh, I’ll be waiting,” Xuanyuan Lige said with a smile.

Not until Ziqing had walked far off did he finally move, his purple robes and silver hair still stirring faintly in the breeze, his eyes, once warm with easy laughter, now filled entirely with something complicated, lost in thought over something unknown.

“Kept you waiting long—something came up back at camp.” Jun Beiyao’s voice suddenly drifted over, the man stepping out from behind a large tree.

Xuanyuan Lige didn’t turn around, his voice turning cold at once. “What agreement did Western Chu sign with Jun Beiyue?”

“Jun Beiyue? It was plainly signed with my own Great Zhou—why does everyone insist on attributing it to him alone?” Jun Beiyao snapped angrily.

“Do you honestly believe that once Jun Beiyue accompanies you back to the capital, this realm will still belong to Emperor Tianhui?” Xuanyuan Lige scoffed coldly.

“Yes! I refuse to believe he’s capable of patricide, of seizing all of Great Zhou overnight!” Jun Beiyao snapped, his face twisting with fury, as if all the anger he’d been suppressing in front of others had finally found its release.

Only then did Xuanyuan Lige turn around, glancing at him. “Situ Xin’er’s scheme didn’t work.”

“It’s all because of that wretched woman meddling where she shouldn’t!” Jun Beiyao snapped furiously.

To his shock, Xuanyuan Lige suddenly seized him by the throat, his grip every bit as ruthless as the hand that could summon wind-blades with a mere flick of his fingers.

“I’ll warn you one final time—watch your mouth,” he said, eyes narrowed, his ethereally beautiful face twisted with a malice worthy of a demon. With that, he slowly released his grip on Jun Beiyao. “Tell me. What exactly is in this agreement!”

Jun Beiyao backed away warily. Besides Jun Beiyue, this sickly-looking man in front of him was surely the most unfathomable person he knew.

He hurried to explain both sides of the agreement in full detail, and the more Xuanyuan Lige listened, the heavier his expression grew.

“Western Chu is overreaching badly, thinking they’re truly the overlords of Longyuan—do they really believe those Hun barbarians will fear their cavalry?” Jun Beiyao scoffed coldly.

Yet Xuanyuan Lige’s attention had fixed entirely on the border between Eastern Qin and Great Zhou. “The clause about never allying with Eastern Qin—she signed that herself?”

“Young Master Xuanyuan, don’t tell me you’ve actually taken a liking to that worn-out pair of shoes!” Jun Beiyao blurted out.

The moment he said this, Xuanyuan Lige spun around sharply—fortunately Jun Beiyao had enough self-awareness to step back in time, quick enough to speak up. “That’s not what I meant! She’s always misunderstood me over that whole unmatched-beauty matter, which means someone else entirely is behind it. That scandal caused such an uproar in the capital—whoever’s responsible surely knows about it. Are they afraid of Prince Yao’s power, afraid of Han Ziqing herself, or is there some other scheme at play, that they’ve stayed hidden all this time?”

“I’d like to know that too,” Xuanyuan Lige said flatly—not only did he want to know, he wanted to kill whoever it was with his own hands.

Seeing no killing intent from Xuanyuan Lige, Jun Beiyao’s heart, which had leapt into his throat, finally settled back down, and he added quietly, “Jun Beiyue means to go on a diplomatic mission to Nanzhao. Situ Xin’er will likely accompany him—the Situ Family holds no small amount of influence there.”

“What’s he going to Nanzhao for?” Xuanyuan Lige asked, puzzled. Like Western Jing, Nanzhao wasn’t likely to see any major developments in the near term—shouldn’t Jun Beiyue be staying at the northern frontier to hold these newly won cities instead?

These cities, after all, sat at a major crossroads—practically the heartland of Longyuan. Once he’d firmly rooted himself there, it would surely prove immensely beneficial to his future prospects, and moreover, this was precisely the golden opportunity to sideline Emperor Tianhui’s authority entirely!

And yet he was actually returning to the capital, only to be dispatched by Emperor Tianhui to attend some water-splashing festival in Nanzhao?

This… was genuinely bizarre.

“Could he have his sights set on Nanzhao?” Jun Beiyao asked, suspicious.

Xuanyuan Lige only shook his head, that odd image of Ziqing’s face from a moment ago unconsciously surfacing in his mind—that secret lay in Nanzhao, didn’t it?

Could Jun Beiyue have already known?

“Or perhaps there’s some other matter he’s using this as an excuse to attend to?” Jun Beiyao guessed again.

Xuanyuan Lige simply shook his head once more, not even sparing Jun Beiyao another glance, waving a hand and turning to leave on his own.

Jun Beiyao watched his retreating figure, his resentful glare enough to kill Xuanyuan Lige a hundred times over in his mind.

Xuanyuan Lige, well well. All these years working together, and you’d betray our partnership over a woman, shielding Han Ziqing like this!

One day you’ll learn what it means to be a clay idol crossing the river—unable even to save yourself!

Meanwhile, back at the main camp, things were already bustling with excitement, horns blaring rhythmically across the open plains—not the sharp cadence of a battle charge, but something joyous and celebratory instead.

The moment Ziqing returned to camp, she walked straight into all this festivity—it was the second matter Jun Beiyue had come to discuss with her the night before: her formal investiture as a noble and minister of state!

He intended to formally bestow upon her the title “Queen of the Northern Gate,” to place the official seal of the five cities directly into her hands.

Yet, with all the officers and soldiers gathered, Jun Beiyue himself was nowhere to be seen.

Ziqing stood taking it all in, brow faintly furrowed. The assembled soldiers, watching her, exchanged knowing smiles—faced with such a tremendous surprise, the princess consort must surely be overwhelmed! Prince Yao had ordered everyone to prepare in secret well in advance; once the investiture ceremony concluded, a grand celebratory feast, a true victory banquet, would follow.

Even the White Tiger general had hurried over, stepping forward with delight. “Princess consort, please come forward to receive your investiture! You are the most resplendent rose in the hearts of all our soldiers!”

To everyone’s surprise, Ziqing showed not the slightest trace of delight, saying only flatly, “Where is His Highness?”

“His Highness was held up by something—he’ll be along shortly!”

The White Tiger general offered a hasty excuse. This investiture ceremony was meant to be personally presided over by their lord, but after giving everyone their instructions the night before, no one had been able to locate him since!

“When he arrives, tell him this: bestowing a title and territory upon a mere woman like myself is far too great an honor—Ziqing is unworthy of it, and while I appreciate His Highness’s regard, I must decline.”

With that, Ziqing turned and walked off to the side. She genuinely couldn’t understand why Jun Beiyue kept insisting on forcing things upon her that she had no interest in.

Theirs was such a clear, straightforward transactional relationship—couldn’t he simply settle matters with cold hard payment and be done with it?

This relationship was never meant to lead anywhere. It had always been purely about mutual use—why did he insist on complicating it further?

Watching the princess consort walk away, the assembled officers were momentarily stunned—she had actually refused? Did she have any idea just how significant, how precious a gift Prince Yao was offering her?

At that very moment, Jun Beiyue approached from the distance, expression utterly blank, and trailing along cheerfully behind him, of all people, was Situ Xin’er.