Late at night, lights still burned in Gu Juhan’s study. He sat alone at his desk, with a letter of divorce placed before him.

That was the one she had written for him.

Actually, before he sent her up the mountain today, he had vaguely sensed that she wouldn’t be so obedient as to truly return with him after exactly three hours. She was so concerned about that person—she would most likely cause trouble.

But he truly hadn’t expected that she would simply write a letter of divorce for him and hand it directly to him.

It was still far from their agreed three hours when she hurriedly came down from the mountain, her face deathly pale. He was naturally very worried about her and couldn’t bear to see her so distressed. He guessed that person had spoken cold, heartless words to her again, which was why she showed such a pained expression. He worried about her, while simultaneously discovering that he was still basely rejoicing in secret—apparently he hadn’t given up hope of waiting for her after all.

But in the end, all he received was a letter of divorce she had written for him.

She said she would not leave. She wanted to stay in the mountains with that person forever, even if it cost her life.

She said that what was between them had only been a transaction, but she was grateful for his kindness in marrying and saving her years ago, and she would repay him in the future.

She said: Wenruo, I’m sorry.

Gu Juhan actually didn’t know what her final “I’m sorry” truly meant. Was it merely because she felt she was causing him trouble? Or did she actually know already that he had harbored feelings for her for many years?

He couldn’t be certain.

The only thing he could be certain of was… she truly would never come back.

This morning she had left the house with him. He had personally helped her onto the carriage, caring for her all the way as she felt both joy and unease. She had clearly promised him she would only stay there for three hours, would only see that person once and return quickly.

She had clearly promised.

But she went back on her word, brazenly refusing to honor it, yet he found he still couldn’t feel angry with her.

Not even a little bit.

He even still liked her very much, still hoped she could return to this home.

His mother had passed away when he was young, and his father had also died of illness five years ago. He was truly completely alone. Though he had brothers and sisters, they weren’t born of the same mother. Perhaps they could be considered close, but ultimately they weren’t completely family.

He had actually thought of her as family.

He knew she hadn’t completely opened her heart to him, but they truly treated each other with respect like guests, like friends and also like relatives. Even when she was in a good mood, she would wash her hands and make soup. He had been fortunate enough to taste her cooking once or twice—her skills were excellent, leaving a lingering fragrance on lips and teeth.

Once a person has something to care about in their heart, they constantly experience subtle differences. These differences might not be visible to outsiders, but you yourself know things have changed. For instance, he knew his heart had become increasingly tender after having her. Sometimes in the military camp he would think about returning home early, and even when fighting desperately on the battlefield, he would think he couldn’t die—he still had to return home to report his safety to her.

Things like that.

And now that she was gone, that sense of caring in his heart had disappeared.

He had actually long thought this day would come, back when they were most comfortable together. As a general who led troops into battle, he naturally had the habit of preparing for danger in times of peace. At that time, feeling himself becoming increasingly addicted to being with her, he felt deeply troubled, always feeling that all of this was stolen from someone else and would have to be returned someday.

He had spent five full years reminding himself not to be greedy, but hadn’t expected that when the time for parting truly came, he would still be so… heartbroken and devastated.

Even the sharpest blade on the battlefield had never hurt him this much.

He could barely bear it.

Yet he still couldn’t control himself from looking down at that letter of divorce on his desk.

It was said she had learned to read and write by following that person, so her writing was always very beautiful. That letter of divorce was also written very properly, using his tone to angrily denounce her for being unfaithful and childless, with words so sharp he could barely bear to read on.

She cursed herself so harshly, all just to have no more connection with him and return completely to that person’s side.

What more could he say?

He truly didn’t know.

The long night stretched endlessly, but Gu Juhan wasn’t the only sleepless one.

In that cold, desolate mountain, Shen Xiling was also awake, sitting on the ground outside the dilapidated house.

April in Shangjing was actually quite warm, but nights were still inevitably cool. Especially in the mountains where dew was heavy, it felt particularly cold. Shen Xiling’s constitution was delicate, and she had just recovered from serious illness—she actually couldn’t withstand such cold night winds.

But she still sat leaning against the ground outside the house. The dirty mud soiled her magnificent dress—it was clothing she quite liked. Naturally, she had specially dressed up to see him today, wearing her favorite dress and applying very fine makeup.

Unfortunately, she had long since cried off all her makeup, and now her clothes were dirty too, making her look quite undignified.

But this didn’t prevent her from waiting for him here.

Waiting for his heart to soften, waiting for him to open the door, waiting for him to let her return to his side.

She had already waited for an hour, her hands ice cold, not knowing how much longer she would have to continue waiting like this. Yet despite this aimless endeavor, she felt neither wronged nor sorrowful. Perhaps she had long grown accustomed to waiting—she had waited five years, so what were a few hours?

She stubbornly waited, and though she didn’t wait for Qi Ying to open the door for her, she did wait for Qing Zhu to emerge from the room.

He stood beside her looking at her with great difficulty, making Shen Xiling somewhat amused.

She looked up at him, nodded, said “long time no see,” then asked: “Does he have words for you to convey to me?”

Five years had passed, and Qing Zhu no longer had the appearance of the youth he once was. He too had matured greatly, the angles of his face more defined, though still quite thin. His expression when looking at her had also changed considerably. Shen Xiling remembered that originally he had somewhat disliked her, always giving her small cold shoulders from time to time. Of course, she hadn’t taken it to heart, because she knew Qing Zhu’s heart wasn’t bad—he was just somewhat serious in dealing with people, perhaps even influenced by the young master.

At this moment, his expression toward her was much gentler, carrying the distant kindness of old friends, exactly what should exist upon reunion after long separation. Additionally, his eyes held some sympathy as he told her: “The young master said to tell you to leave… don’t come looking for him anymore.”

As expected.

Shen Xiling smiled faintly and withdrew her gaze, saying: “Is there nothing new? He’s already told me this three times himself today.”

She seemed somewhat nonchalant, making Qing Zhu quite anxious. His brow furrowed as he spoke to her with urgent tone: “Please listen just once. The young master has made up his mind and won’t change it again—don’t you understand him? The young master won’t soften his heart.”

Don’t you understand him?

His original intent with these words was to persuade Shen Xiling to leave, but they inadvertently made her even more determined.

Yes, she understood him best.

Though that person was mostly heartless toward outsiders, he had never truly been heartless toward her, not even when they first met. At that time when she knelt in the snow outside the gates of Fenghe Courtyard, he said he didn’t care about her and told her to leave, but later his heart still softened. Not to mention later when their feelings deepened—he would grant her every wish, giving her whatever she wanted.

He definitely couldn’t bear to let her keep waiting. He would worry about her catching cold and falling ill.

Shen Xiling smiled almost imperceptibly, whether from certainty or mocking her own vain confidence.

After thinking, she told Qing Zhu: “You go rest… I’ll wait a little longer.”

As if responding to her, the candlelight in the room suddenly extinguished, and the window went completely dark. The person inside was telling her: This time he absolutely wouldn’t soften his heart.

Shen Xiling saw this but acted as if she hadn’t noticed, remaining motionless in place.

Qing Zhu had no other choice. He waited in place a while longer, and seeing she truly had no intention of leaving, he sighed deeply and also departed.

The mountain moon was bright, and night sounds of insects could be heard. It was actually somewhat similar to Qingji Mountain. Shen Xiling still remembered how in the past when she couldn’t sleep at night, she would stroll the back mountain filled with pink cherry blossoms. At that time there were also bright moon and chirping insects, very pleasing to the heart.

Now it was still the same: there were mountains, bright moon, and him.

It seemed no different from before.

Shen Xiling rubbed her hands together and breathed warm air into her palms.

Sometimes this person was clever, but sometimes she was a bit foolish. For instance, with this waiting—she waited too honestly, not deliberately making noise to make the person inside feel sorry for her, just silently and quietly waiting in place, not even afraid he might mistake her for having left.

Later, she truly grew tired from waiting and became somewhat drowsy, leaning against his door wanting to sleep for a while. This scene was also somewhat familiar—as a child she had waited for him like this outside Wangshi’s door. That was winter, and she had accidentally fallen asleep, only to be discovered by him when he returned late. He immediately picked her up and carried her into the house, even scolding her with a stern face.

This too was a wonderful thing. Shen Xiling smiled hazily, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes again.

She closed her eyes.

She fell asleep.

The next day dawned bright and early. Gu Jingqi rose very early.

Today her tutor had asked for leave, saying his wife at home had fallen ill and needed care, so she rarely didn’t need to rise early to review books and deal with the teacher’s examinations.

But this daily habit of early rising had already formed. When it came to actually staying in bed to sleep longer, she couldn’t manage it. Gu Jingqi still woke at the hour of mao, angrily calling herself cheap, making all the maids serving in her room laugh.

Since she rose early, she wanted to find some entertainment for herself. After thinking it over, she still wanted to go to her eldest brother’s place to find her sister-in-law. Her sister-in-law was soft-hearted—perhaps if she coaxed her a bit, she would be willing to take her out to play.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Gu Jingqi made up her mind and happily ran toward her sister-in-law’s courtyard, but couldn’t enter. She only saw Lian Zi come out to greet her, saying the lady was feeling unwell and hadn’t risen yet.

Upon hearing this, Gu Jingqi’s playful mood immediately vanished completely. She only wanted to go in to visit and see if her sister-in-law was alright, but was also blocked by Lian Zi, who said the lady needed rest and asked her to come another day.

Gu Jingqi was very sensible. Hearing Lian Zi say this, she nodded in agreement, but as she left she kept looking back at her sister-in-law’s house, unable to look away, quite worried in her heart.

She thought this wouldn’t do—if sister-in-law was unwell, how could elder brother not come to check? So she changed direction to go find her brother.

Before entering her brother’s courtyard, she first saw Xu Chuan leading someone into the mansion. That person wore a long cloak and looked quite suspicious, so she hid behind a decorative rock to take a closer look.

Unexpectedly, she was discovered by the cloaked figure, who even turned to glance at her. Just then a gust of wind blew off part of that person’s cloak, revealing their face. Gu Jingqi looked carefully and discovered it was Young Master Qi’ao from Jinyu Hall!

Ah no… it was His Highness the Crown Prince.

Author’s Note:

Little sister is a lucky charm, big brother gets all the trouble. Poor General Gu (sigh).