No choice but to marry her!

“Why?” Ziqing blurted out.

Jun Beiyue didn’t answer.

“Your Highness doesn’t even like her that much — wouldn’t marrying her suit you just fine, then?” Ziqing asked again, unconsciously glancing back toward Situ Xin’er, who was, at that very moment, glaring furiously right back at her.

“Why?”

Why marry her — why “no choice”?

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted, Han Ziqing? Remember this — from now on, stay out of this prince’s personal affairs,” Jun Beiyue scoffed coldly.

To everyone watching, Prince Yao and his princess looked the very picture of loving devotion, whispering intimately, close as could be — yet the moment Jun Beiyue finished speaking, he said nothing more at all.

They reached the palace by dusk. Ziqing was given quarters to rest in what had once been the residence of Jun Beiyue’s birth mother, Lady Gu.

This had originally been an abandoned side courtyard. After Jun Beiyue’s investiture as prince, it had been renovated and preserved as his former home, named Gu Garden, and his birth mother had been posthumously honored as Consort Gu.

Small though the courtyard was, it was elegant and peaceful — Jun Beiyue always stayed here whenever he lodged in the palace.

Looking up at the two characters “Gu Garden” carved above the gate, Ziqing couldn’t help but think of that gravestone she’d seen atop the eastern peak facing the East Sea, back in the northern frontier.

Gu — the character for “Solitary” and the character for the surname were homophones. Could there be some secret hidden here?

Though Ziqing noticed this, she had no mind to dwell on it further, finding a spot to settle into, listless, her eyes hollow and unfocused. Only now did she truly understand what it meant to be exhausted at heart — that was the real exhaustion.

Hongyi came rushing in, arms full of clothing, beaming with excitement. “Miss, good thing I remembered! Look, I had these sent over from the estate — pick out which one you want to wear!”

Tonight’s grand banquet would draw a huge crowd — whatever happened, the Princess’s attire simply couldn’t fall short of Situ Xin’er’s.

Ziqing glanced over without reacting at all.

“Miss, how about this one?” Hongyi held one up, asking earnestly.

“Hongyi, tell me about the mistress of this courtyard,” Ziqing said flatly. Perhaps a change of subject would help.

This whole thing had been her own doing, entirely one-sided — what right did she have to hold a grudge against him?

It had, after all, been her own decision to push Situ Xin’er toward him — what right did she have to demand an explanation from him now?

“Does Miss mean Consort Gu?” Hongyi asked timidly, as though the topic itself were somehow forbidden.

“Can’t I ask?” Ziqing frowned.

“You can, it’s just… Miss, you can certainly ask this servant, but please don’t ask anyone else — Prince Yao wouldn’t be pleased!” Hongyi said earnestly.

“Why not?” Ziqing asked, puzzled. She knew that Consort Gu had originally been a palace maid, only gaining status because of Jun Beiyue’s birth — and even then, a very low status. She’d passed away not long after giving birth to him.

“It’s just — because Consort Gu’s background was so humble, quite a few people used to mock Prince Yao over it, so he simply stopped wanting to bring it up,” Hongyi answered honestly.

Ziqing was faintly startled. That didn’t sound like Jun Beiyue’s nature at all — refusing to speak of it must mean he was hiding something.

The surname Gu — there was no such surname anywhere on the continent of Longyuan. It came from somewhere beyond the East Sea.

“Miss, Consort Gu really had no particular background at all — just an orphan, no parents, no siblings, taken into the palace after someone there took notice of her,” Hongyi answered.

Ziqing sighed faintly. “Take me around to have a look.”

“Miss, the banquet’s about to start. You should really start getting ready,” Hongyi reminded her.

“No point wasting the time,” Ziqing said flatly.

No point wasting the time? What did that mean?

Hongyi hurried after her. “Miss, what exactly is wrong with you?”

Ziqing stopped. “Silly girl. I’m leaving. Will you come with me?”

“Miss, please don’t say such foolish things!” Hongyi’s temper flared, and she pressed on regardless. “Miss, you’re still a princess right now — the highest-ranking princess in the entire realm! If you leave, you’ll truly… how will you even live? No man will ever want you after that!”

“I’ll live on my own. Do I really need a man to survive?” Ziqing said with a laugh. “There’ll be… a whole new beginning. No one will know me, no one will know my past.”

Hongyi didn’t understand, and was about to argue further when Ziqing slowly raised her hand and, with a sudden flick of her fingers, sent a nearby mural crashing to the floor with a loud crack, before Hongyi could even see it happen!

Hongyi stared, dumbstruck, while a flash of malice crossed Ziqing’s eyes as she continued walking forward.

Jun Beiyao — your day of reckoning is coming soon.

As the banquet drew near, the vast imperial garden was decked out with lanterns and festive decorations, bustling with activity. Many guests had already arrived early, exchanging pleasantries, seizing the chance to network.

In a high pavilion in the distance, Jun Beiyue had already changed into a set of white brocade palace robes, his cold bearing carrying an air of natural nobility, gazing down from above at everything below, as though he alone were the true master of this realm.

Behind him, at a stone table, a man in blue sat with his head bowed, pouring tea unhurriedly. His features were hard to make out, but his slender, pale, elegant hands made it clear at a glance that he was someone raised in comfort and privilege.

“So, tell me — how did you end up poisoned with Meixiang?” he said with a faint smile, his voice low and pleasantly deep.

“None of your business,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

“Then tell me this — do you like my sister?” he asked again, still bent over his tea, pouring it with maddening leisure — enough to drive an impatient man half mad.

“None of your business,” Jun Beiyue said again, coldly.

Yet the man remained remarkably good-natured, asking further, “If you don’t like her, why marry her?”

At last, Jun Beiyue turned sharply, furious. “Can this prince simply not marry her?”

The man answered with unshakeable patience, “No, you can’t.”

With that, he finally lifted his head to look up — a handsome face carrying three parts refined elegance and seven parts wicked charm, his brow bearing a striking resemblance to Situ Xin’er’s, his long, almond-shaped eyes crinkled with a smile that seemed entirely harmless.

Situ Haonan, indeed!

“Tomorrow we depart for Nanzhao. Two months at the very latest — I want that antidote in hand,” Jun Beiyue said, each word sharp and furious, punctuating his sentence with a hard rap against the stone table.

Situ Haonan simply waved a hand, unhurried. “Can’t be done, can’t be done. Tomorrow’s the wedding, after all — can’t leave, can’t leave.”

“Can you be serious for once!” Jun Beiyue snapped again.

“I’m being perfectly serious!” Situ Haonan said, still smiling.

Jun Beiyue reached out at once and seized his chin, furious. “You know perfectly well Xin’er isn’t suited for life in the imperial family!”

At last, Situ Haonan’s long, narrow eyes darkened, and he abruptly wrenched Jun Beiyue’s hand away. “The entire Situ estate, even the whole martial world, knows that foolish girl confessed her feelings for you in front of everyone — knows you stayed overnight in her tent. If she doesn’t marry you, who else would ever take her? Whether it’s ‘suited’ or not, she brought this on herself!”

“I told you — it wasn’t an overnight stay!” Jun Beiyue snapped, angrier still.

Situ Haonan, knowing him well enough, stepped back quickly before Jun Beiyue could act on his fury. “Regardless — you’ve already met my father. My family can help you find the antidote for Meixiang. But that foolish girl — you absolutely must marry her, or else…”

Situ Haonan trailed off, but mouthed a single word silently at Jun Beiyue — unmistakably, the character for “Gu.”

“Try it and see!” Jun Beiyue had never been this furious before, the veins bulging visibly at his temple.

“I wouldn’t dare — but my parents certainly would, and you understand that better than I do. Old friend, take my advice — just marry her already. A man having several wives and concubines is perfectly normal. Don’t tell me you’re actually afraid of your own principal wife!” Situ Haonan said, half serious, half joking.

Jun Beiyue let out a long breath and said flatly, “You’ve always known — I care for Xin’er the same way you do, like a sister. Why ruin her whole life over this?”

Situ Haonan blinked, rolling his eyes repeatedly. “Marrying one woman shouldn’t be this much trouble. All you have to do is give her a title — no one’s forcing you to love her to death!”