That same afternoon, the great procession left the inn and, true to his word, made no further stops, heading straight for the capital.

Along the way, neither Ziqing nor even Situ Xin’er caught so much as a glimpse of Jun Beiyue again — rumors spread through the caravan that Prince Yao had gone on ahead long before them.

Ziqing remained perfectly calm. If that man wasn’t coming to trouble her, why would she go looking for trouble herself? She spent the journey focused entirely on practicing her music, both her zither skill and her wind-blade technique advancing considerably.

She’d originally assumed Xuanyuan Lige might visit once more before they reached the capital, but to her disappointment, he never appeared again.

That afternoon, they finally arrived at Da Zhou’s capital!

At the northern city gate, the sound of lively commotion could be heard from far off. Emperor Tianhui, along with a whole retinue of princes and ministers, had come personally to greet them at the gate — a reception that only Jun Beiyue could possibly command.

And indeed, after so long unseen, Jun Beiyue finally appeared, having just dismounted, still dressed in his commanding, mysterious black combat attire, his devastatingly handsome face wearing that eternal frost, that perpetually unreadable coldness.

The moment he dismounted, everyone at the gate lit up with delight — but to their disappointment, the man didn’t spare them so much as a glance, turning instead to look back toward the rear of the procession!

Behind him, Ziqing had just stepped down from her carriage, and at once found herself caught in his icy gaze.

Was he waiting for her?

Only then did Ziqing remember she still bore the title of Princess Yao. Her palms tightened at once, an unbidden premonition rising that this man was about to take her hand.

In public, he always took her hand.

But just as Ziqing reached his side, Situ Xin’er’s delighted voice rang out from behind them. “Beiyue-gege, wait for me!”

Jun Beiyue stopped in his tracks, his large hand promptly caught by Situ Xin’er.

She shot Ziqing a disdainful glance, claiming the position at Jun Beiyue’s right side, saying cheerfully, “Beiyue-gege, everyone said you’d already left ahead of us. I knew it wasn’t true — hehe, I just knew you hadn’t left.”

“Tired?” Jun Beiyue asked flatly, subtly working his hand free of her grip.

Situ Xin’er caught his hand again at once, pouting coquettishly. “Not tired at all! I want to go to Nanzhao with you too!”

“When is your brother arriving?” Jun Beiyue asked flatly. Everyone nearby was startled — where had their master found such patience today, actually indulging Situ Xin’er’s endless chatter like this?

Meanwhile, the Emperor, the imperial relatives, the nobles, and ministers were all waiting — waiting right in front of the capital’s own citizens, no less!

A mere ten or so paces of distance, and yet Prince Yao’s display of authority today seemed excessive, even for him.

Ziqing gave an inward, cold laugh, understanding perfectly well that Jun Beiyue was doing this deliberately. Still, she knew that she wasn’t the only one being publicly sidelined here — so was the entire crowd waiting at the gate.

At last, once he’d indulged Situ Xin’er’s chatter to its full extent, Jun Beiyue finally turned his gaze properly toward the gate.

“Ha, Fourth Brother, receiving a personal welcome from Father himself — you truly are the first in all of Da Zhou to earn such an honor!” Jun Beiyao spoke up, timing it perfectly.

Jun Beiyue said nothing, striding forward. The moment he moved, Emperor Tianhui, who had been waiting anxiously all this while, finally found his opening, hurrying forward himself, arms spread wide as if to embrace him, calling out with a booming laugh, “My son has returned! My son has returned!”

Yet Jun Beiyue stopped short, simply cupping his hands together and saying flatly, “Father.”

Emperor Tianhui’s outstretched arms froze, a flicker of malice crossing his eyes — but there was nothing he could do about it. This unfilial son held the reins of military power now; no one left in court could possibly stand against him. What he lacked was a legitimate pretext to force his own abdication — and so he had no choice but to swallow it.

“Ha, this is your second triumphant return from the northern frontier!” Emperor Tianhui said, feigning warmth.

Jun Beiyue merely nodded, saying nothing, and the atmosphere grew awkward at once.

Jun Beiyao hurried to smooth things over with a joke. “Indeed it is! We were all still so young back then — I remember, the very day Fourth Brother came home, Father bestowed on him the title of Prince Yao. How envious the rest of us brothers were!”

The Second Prince and the others had already sensed the situation was unstable, none of them daring to guess what Jun Beiyue might do standing here at the gate before this crowd, none of them daring to speak up.

The moment Jun Beiyao finished, Situ Xin’er piped up. “So what title will the Emperor bestow on Beiyue-gege this time?”

At this, the entire crowd froze. Prince Yao already stood second to none but the Emperor himself — what more could possibly be bestowed?

Ziqing, too, was startled — though her shock was over the sheer audacity of it, that even with whatever backing Situ Xin’er had, she’d dare say something so brazen.

Yet, to Ziqing’s surprise, Emperor Tianhui didn’t take offense at all, instead deftly changing the subject. “And this young lady is…”

Before Jun Beiyue could even introduce her, Situ Xin’er piped up cheerfully. “Uncle Emperor, don’t you remember me? When I was little, you nearly took me as your goddaughter!”

Emperor Tianhui was clearly putting on an act — surely he knew perfectly well who Jun Beiyue had brought back with him.

“You’re… you’re… Situ Xin’er!” Emperor Tianhui exclaimed with feigned delight.

Ziqing gave an inward, cold laugh. She should have guessed it — with even Jun Beiyue indulging this girl so thoroughly, why would she have any reason to fear Emperor Tianhui at all?

Those who were doted upon always carried themselves with such fearless confidence.

Consort Yi hurried forward at once, taking Situ Xin’er’s hands and looking her over from head to toe. “So it really is you, little Xin’er! You’ve grown up, and so beautiful too! I was wondering who could possibly have earned the privilege of wearing this golden silkworm silk!”

Situ Xin’er was wearing that same blue outfit again today — anyone with an eye for such things would recognize it instantly.

Situ Xin’er lit up with delight. “Consort Yi recognizes this fabric?”

“Of course I do — it’s only produced once every several years, and this batch was sent to the Prince Yao estate. So many people have been longing for it, and here you are, wearing it, you little thing,” Consort Li said with a smile, casting a deliberate glance toward Ziqing as she spoke.

With Situ Xin’er now the center of attention, the subject shifted, and the atmosphere eased considerably.

“You must be exhausted from the road, look at how tired you look. Hurry back to the palace, let the maids look after you properly, so you’ll be in good form for tonight’s welcome banquet,” Consort Li said, then lowered her voice, “I guarantee everyone in and out of the palace will be stunned speechless! It’ll make our own Prince Yao quite jealous, won’t it!”

That comment went straight to Situ Xin’er’s heart, sweet as honey. She glanced at Jun Beiyue, blushing so deeply she had to lower her head.

“Your Majesty, everyone’s exhausted from the journey. You and your son can talk at leisure back in the palace — let’s not tire poor Xin’er out any further,” Consort Li urged, and with that single line, she managed to make the whole awkward scene sound as if father and son simply had endless things to catch up on.

This woman’s silver tongue was probably exactly why Emperor Tianhui doted on her so.

“Good, good, good! We’ll talk more once we’re back!” Emperor Tianhui said, patting Jun Beiyue’s shoulder and steering him toward the great imperial carriage.

Jun Beiyue had no interest in humoring this emperor, but with the entire capital watching, even if he wasn’t inclined to give Emperor Tianhui face, he had to maintain his own image.

He said nothing further, striding alongside Emperor Tianhui toward the carriage. Jun Beiyao greeted the other princes briefly before hurrying to follow.

Meanwhile, Consort Li led Situ Xin’er along affectionately, chatting and laughing softly as they followed as well.

That left Ziqing standing alone, no one paying her any attention at all — as though everyone had simply forgotten she was Princess Yao. And yet, even though she’d clearly been forgotten, countless eyes were now fixed intently upon her.

Watching to see whether she’d step forward, or step back.

Whether she’d quietly follow along, or quietly retreat to her own carriage.

For a moment, even Hongyi didn’t know what to do. The great carriage ahead was clearly meant to carry passengers home — even Situ Xin’er had climbed aboard. Surely they didn’t intend for a proper princess to make her own way back alone?