That touch of aged, weathered color lay quietly among the ashes — a deep brown, so close to the color of the ash itself that it should have gone unnoticed. And yet, inexplicably, once you spotted it, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away.
Steady, mysterious, as if quietly narrating some distant legend.
It was Wuzheng!
The instant Jun Beiyue caught sight of Wuzheng, he closed the distance in a single bound and pulled the zither straight out from the ashes. Despite having been through the fire, the instrument remained perfectly intact — even its body still held a cool, icy temperature, not the slightest trace of heat!
The moment the zither was pulled free, the already silent scene fell even more utterly still. Every single head turned in unison toward Madam Yu — there was no longer any doubt: Madam Yu had been lying.
Madam Yu’s face turned ashen. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed right there on the spot!
How could this be!
The zither hadn’t burned at all! How was this possible!
In the silence, the Mobei clan elder’s breathing grew heavier and heavier, as though gathering the force of an incoming storm!
Madam Yu had lied. Jun Beiyue wasn’t a bandit at all — he’d simply been reclaiming what rightfully belonged to him.
Gradually, everyone’s attention shifted to Jun Beiyue, but he seemed entirely unaware of them, standing amid the ashes, using the sleeve of his own fine robe to carefully and gently brush the soot from Wuzheng.
The unhurried way he moved, the complete disregard for anyone watching — this wasn’t mere composure, it was as if he didn’t consider anyone present worth acknowledging at all.
Madam Yu watched him timidly, and even though she’d already collapsed to the ground, her hands and feet trembling, she realized this man had, from beginning to end, spoken only that single sentence — simply stating his name.
What would he say next? Surely he would furiously refute every accusation and slander she’d thrown at him. Surely he would demand the clan elder deliver justice on his behalf. Surely he would come storming over to unleash his fury on her!
The more Madam Yu thought about it, the more anxious and uneasy she became, desperately wishing she could flee this instant!
But by now they were completely surrounded by the crowd of clan members — there was nowhere for her to run.
What now! What now! Madam Yu’s heart pounded faster and faster, more and more frantically.
Suddenly, Jun Beiyue looked up. Madam Yu’s heart lurched, her breath catching — but to her astonishment, he said absolutely nothing at all. He didn’t even acknowledge Xuanyuan Lige. He simply cradled Wuzheng in his arms and turned, walking straight away!
The crowd parted instinctively, clearing a path for him. Jun Beiyue strode forward without a backward glance — whatever chaos was unfolding here, Prince Yao had no time for it; he had far more pressing matters to attend to.
That was it?
Madam Yu stood frozen, dumbstruck. The clan elder was frozen too. Every onlooker was frozen as well.
That was it… it was over just like that?
But why did it feel, somehow, not like relief, not like the joy of being shown mercy, not like the relief of having the whole matter simply dropped?
What they felt instead was the crushing weight of having been utterly, completely dismissed.
All this dramatic confrontation, all this uproar, calling in what they believed to be their mighty protector — and this man hadn’t even bothered to register any of it. He had simply come to retrieve what was rightfully his, nothing more.
It had to be admitted — even Xuanyuan Lige felt, in this whole affair, that he himself had become entirely dispensable.
He didn’t bother sparing Madam Yu another glance. He gave the clan elder a slight nod and turned to follow after Jun Beiyue.
The moment they’d gone, the clan elder snapped furiously, “Madam Yu, you… you are truly disappointing!”
“No, no! Elder, please let me explain, there was a reason for all this!” Madam Yu pleaded desperately.
But already, discontented voices were rising from the crowd. “Someone as dishonest as you doesn’t deserve to be part of the Mobei tribe — get out of Mobei!”
“That’s right, you’ve brought shame on the entire Mobei tribe — leave! We don’t want a neighbor like you!”
…
Before long, the condemnations and rebukes grew louder and louder, loud enough that even Jun Beiyue and Xuanyuan Lige, already some distance away, could still hear them!
But Xuanyuan Lige didn’t look back, and Jun Beiyue, of course, didn’t either.
By the time they stepped back into the house, they found Ziqing and Yelu Qianqian had already fallen asleep, curled up together.
These two women came from completely different worlds — one had been pampered and indulged since childhood, blunt-tempered, straightforward, saying whatever she felt like, never needing to protect herself because far more people doted on her and shielded her than ever wronged her.
The other had endured every hardship imaginable since childhood, forced to learn how to close herself off, to protect herself — shrewd, worldly, guarded, even withdrawn.
And yet, sleeping side by side like this, their sleeping faces were equally peaceful, equally innocent and pure!
Xuanyuan Lige watched in silence, unconsciously reaching to remove his own outer robe — only to find someone had already beaten him to it.
Jun Beiyue carefully set Wuzheng down, then immediately removed his fox-fur cloak and gently draped it over Ziqing. As for Yelu Qianqian, his future sister-in-law, he completely ignored her existence altogether.
The warm fox fur, still carrying his body heat and scent, settled over her. Ziqing stirred sleepily, half-turning over, neither fully awake nor fully asleep.
A habit ingrained since childhood — the slightest disturbance would normally wake her instantly. But right now she remained groggy and half-conscious, clearly exhausted beyond measure!
Watching her drowsy state, a flicker of tenderness crossed Jun Beiyue’s eyes. He tucked the fox fur snugly around her, wrapping her completely, then gently lifted her up and pulled her close into his arms!
He settled back against the wall, letting Ziqing nestle comfortably against him, gently patting her back.
The commotion finally stirred Ziqing awake, but she only lifted her eyes briefly to glance at Jun Beiyue before burying her face back into his chest, nuzzling in and drifting back into a deep, contented sleep.
In this moment, Han Ziqing looked exactly like a happy child!
How many men could go on treating a woman like a child forever — cherishing her, protecting her, spoiling her, never letting her go cold, or hungry, or frightened, or suffer? Letting her never have to grow up, letting her stay forever simple, pure, carefree, innocent, blissfully unaware!
Forever… keeping a young girl’s heart?
When you met me, you had already grown up — but I promise you, I will make sure you never go cold, or hungry, or frightened, or suffer, ever again!
Prince Yao, forever busy and occupied, seemed, in this moment, to have nothing but time on his hands. Judging by how things looked, he intended to hold Ziqing in his arms until she’d slept her fill.
The room fell into stillness. Xuanyuan Lige quietly lifted the half-removed cloak he’d been holding, gave a faint, self-mocking laugh, and said lightly, “You’ve been my guests for so long and I’ve forgotten to serve tea. I’ll go boil some water.”
Yelu Qianqian, poor girl, had already curled herself into a tight ball, resigned to her fate after being stuck with two such indifferent, unfeeling men.
Xuanyuan Lige’s footsteps quickened as he walked, but when he reached the kitchen, he didn’t go inside — instead, he leaned against the wall, his breathing noticeably uneven.
His hands were clearly trembling. He pulled out several pills and popped them into his mouth.
It took him a good while before his breathing finally steadied, his handsome face having turned an ashen, bruised shade of blue-purple in the meantime.
Once his breath had settled, he opened his eyes and gazed up at Mobei’s deep, boundless blue sky, his slender fingers unconsciously tapping out a light, cheerful rhythm against the wall, as if by habit — it was the very tune he’d given Ziqing that night on her birthday.
She was right there inside the house, and yet he could only stand out here alone.
Gazing up at the clear blue sky, watching the eagles occasionally soaring past, his eyes grew more and more distant, more and more hollow, until finally all that remained was the sight of those outstretched wings. No one knew what he was truly thinking.
And perhaps, even he himself didn’t quite know what he truly wanted. Having had his entire life arranged for him, he had never once, seriously, stopped to consider that question.