But Ziqing truly wasn’t doing well at all.

This Gu family, whom she’d brought so thoroughly to heel, cried and cried, so pitiful, so heart-wrenching.

They had been the ones to bully her first, to trample all over her from the start, and yet somehow it had all been twisted to make it look like she was the one bullying them.

Did anyone know that back when the Gu family hadn’t yet started crying, back when Gu Meiting and Gu Suying were still laughing, back when everyone had just been standing in the main bedroom waiting to watch her cry, back when she’d first laid eyes on Jun Beiyue lying so still, so quietly on that bed that she’d barely recognized him—her tears had already broken free, all of it silently flowing inward, and hadn’t stopped since!

Her hand rested gently against Jun Beiyue’s lips—the only place on this man’s entire body that still held even the faintest trace of warmth.

Though it had been half a year, though so much had happened since, her every memory of this man remained frozen at that single night at the Court of Judicial Review!

That night, it was her own hand gripping Flowing Light, plunging it savagely into his heart. It was her own hand tearing away his mask, seeing his face clearly for the first time!

In that instant, surely the entire world had come crashing down.

So it was him.

The one she’d endured so much silence for, the one she couldn’t bring herself to speak of, the one she loved but dared not love—it was him!

All her suffering, her helplessness, the one who’d become her very reason for living, her mission to kill—that too was him!

She was such a pure, uncomplicated person—there was only love, or there was hate. And yet he alone had somehow claimed both at once!

In that moment, surely half the world had collapsed.

Did he even know how many sleepless nights she’d spent, turning over and over in her mind, that one shred of innocence she still held onto, that one flicker of concern he’d shown her?

Did he know how many entire days she’d spent in a daze, staring blankly into space, laughing foolishly to herself?

Because she couldn’t help but think of it.

She thought of that time when Prince Yao, always so expressionless, had suddenly handed her a dagger, his eyes filled with such spirited, bright amusement. “Han Ziqing, here—this dagger is called ‘Flowing Light.’ It’s yours.”

She thought of that time when the cold, austere, never-easily-approachable Prince Yao had taken her hand, mocking the fake ring on her finger with such haughty scorn, and yet had personally slipped the scorpion-thorn ring onto her finger with his own hands, smiling with such genuine happiness. “Han Ziqing, it’s yours now.”

She’d smiled foolishly, laughing until she came back to herself, until clarity returned and she realized just how hopelessly she’d fallen—and then panic had set in.

That night, the blood spreading endlessly across the corners of his mouth, the smile frozen stiff in his eyes, the solemn, cold composure he’d forced onto his handsome face—she remembered every bit of it, as vivid as if it had happened just yesterday.

What she could never forget was the very first thing he’d said the moment he’d caught his breath—shouting furiously at Situ Haonan, “Who gave you permission to be harsh with her!”

Who gave them permission to be harsh with her?!

The people at the Court of Judicial Review who’d kicked her while she was down, the Situ couple who’d shielded their own kin at her expense, the petty schemers at the Nanzhao water-splashing festival, the Gu family’s endless parade of false, hypocritical faces—who gave any of them permission to be harsh with Ziqing?!

They all had been, every single one of them!

But Jun Beiyue—you still haven’t woken up.

Jun Beiyue, I couldn’t wait any longer to come, and yet you still haven’t woken up.

Jun Beiyue, I couldn’t wait to come tell you those true words from my heart, and yet you still haven’t woken up.

Jun Beiyue, when you wake, what will be the very first thing you say to me?

Jun Beiyue, they all want to see me suffer, want to see me cry—but Jun Beiyue, let me tell you this: unless you die, Ziqing will never cry, not for the rest of her life.

Ziqing did not cry. The room fell silent, only her slender frame trembling faintly beside the bed, her lonely silhouette looking, from behind, exactly like someone crying—and yet no sound of crying could be heard, not even a sob. It was that quiet.

Ziqing did not cry, did not cry at all. Her eyes had gone red-rimmed all around, her nose sniffling nonstop, and yet not a single tear fell. She kept her word.

Unless Jun Beiyue died, she, Han Ziqing, would never cry—not for the rest of her life!

Ziqing simply watched, simply kept vigil. She had never been one for many words—when surrounded by people, she never knew quite what to say; when alone, she didn’t know what to say either.

Even now, just the two of them together, she still didn’t know what to say, even with her heart so full of things she longed to speak, unable to put them into words.

She kept vigil foolishly, sniffled foolishly, her eyes red and foolish…

Such a bold, reckless, unrestrained woman—and yet here she sat, foolishly timid. After waiting so long, she finally worked up the courage to touch his face again. After waiting even longer, her hand finally dared trail down from his cheek, tracing along his neck—and there, foolishly, it stopped again.

After another long, long while, she finally, foolishly, rose and leaned in close, her expression turning deeply serious. She bit her lip, and at last gathered him up into her arms, letting him rest against her.

By the time all this happened, a full two hours had already passed.

She leaned back against the headboard, letting Jun Beiyue’s head rest in the crook of her arm, holding him gently. Her tightly pressed lips finally loosened, and inexplicably, suddenly, she let out a foolish, helpless laugh—something between self-mockery and amusement at him.

But the more she laughed, the redder her eyes grew, until, still laughing, she slowly buried her small face into the crook of his shoulder. Even that wasn’t enough—she pressed in deeper and deeper, until she was nearly buried entirely in his embrace.

And yet, in the end, not a single word left her lips.

Perhaps that was enough. This gentle touch, this embrace, this deep, burying closeness—for a woman like her, perhaps it already said everything that needed saying.

Silly Qing’er… say something.

In his heart, Jun Beiyue called out to her tenderly, utterly at a loss for what to do with this woman.

It’s been so long, Han Ziqing. You quarreled with the entire Gu family for so long, said so much—and yet, to this day, you’ve only said one thing to me.

Han Ziqing, why did you come? How can I make you understand the danger the Gu family poses, the danger this island poses!

Not until deep into the night, when Guxi and Shiliang knocked at the door, did Ziqing finally release Jun Beiyue.

The door opened to reveal the same blank little face as always—the kind that made anyone who saw it long to know exactly what was going on behind those eyes.

“Master, Jiang Chen took nothing with him—just some clothes and books. The Gu couple personally saw them off,” Shiliang reported truthfully.

This was exactly as Ziqing had expected. How could Jiang Chen dare take anything—doing so would have exposed him instantly!

“Master, we’ve searched the entire estate. No sign of Imperial Physician Gu or Yingzi anywhere,” Guxi said earnestly. Though the master hadn’t given any instructions, having served her this long, he could tell at a glance that something was off. Imperial Physician Gu and Yingzi had clearly been hidden away somewhere.

“No need to search. Tomorrow I’ll simply tell Madam Gu to fetch them back from the Medicine Mountain herself,” Ziqing said flatly. The moment she said this, Guxi and Shiliang immediately looked displeased. “Master, this—”

Ziqing was clearly giving Madam Gu a way to save face—pretending to know nothing, letting Madam Gu come up with some excuse to hand over Imperial Physician Gu and Yingzi on her own.

“Since I’ve chosen to stay, there’s no need to make enemies on every side. I’m simply displeased with how they handled the matter with the Jiang couple,” Ziqing said flatly.

Ziqing believed the Gu couple had no intention whatsoever of harming Beiyue. Imperial Physician Gu and Yingzi being hidden away was likely just Madam Gu’s attempt to conceal her own displeasure with Gu Meiting.

Still, according to what Physician Hua had said, Jun Beiyue’s condition seemed far from simple!

Having chosen to stay, she would take no rash action until Imperial Physician Gu and Yingzi returned.

“Go make inquiries at the Bai family, see what you can learn about the Fusang Sacred Tree. Have everyone else keep watch over the main residence,” Ziqing instructed flatly.

Guxi and Shiliang, worried their master might be grieving, had wanted to offer some words of comfort. But seeing her eyes so clearly red, and yet her expression so composed and stern, neither could bring himself to say anything. They simply bowed and withdrew obediently.

But just as they left, Ziqing suddenly heard movement up on the roof. Someone was there!