She was startled, not having expected to suddenly encounter the Crown Prince at her own home. She was inevitably somewhat shocked, while His Highness the Crown Prince seemed stunned for a moment upon seeing it was her hiding behind the decorative rock. Then he vaguely smiled at her, but before she could react, he had already entered her brother’s courtyard with Xu Chuan.

At that moment, Gu Jingqi had two thoughts.

First, Young Master Qi’ao was truly handsome.

Second, imperial family members rarely entered ministers’ residences, especially with the Crown Prince wearing a cloak and looking mysterious as if he didn’t want to be recognized… Could there be some secret between him and her brother?

Gu Jingqi couldn’t quite figure it out, but she had always been carefree by nature and didn’t feel she had stumbled upon anything too significant. Since she couldn’t understand it, she simply stopped thinking about it and turned her thoughts back to her dear sister-in-law.

Sister-in-law… could you please stop falling ill?

Please get better quickly.

Unlike the clear weather down the mountain, the mountains were always shrouded in mist. Due to the heavy moisture, the mist felt like rain, making the weather seem unpredictable.

When Shen Xiling woke up, she found herself sleeping on Qi Ying’s bed. Outside the window was dim darkness, like a rainy day.

Only she was in the room—he wasn’t there.

Shen Xiling felt somewhat hazy but still remembered falling asleep outside the door last night. Yet now she was sleeping inside the room, so it seemed that after she fell asleep, he had finally softened his heart and carried her in.

But where was he?

Where had he gone?

Just like when she was little, whenever she couldn’t see him she would feel panicked and need to find him immediately. Especially now, she couldn’t be bothered to tidy herself up, just hurriedly got off the bed and rushed out the door to look for him.

She urgently pushed open the door and ran into the courtyard. The sky in the mountains was indeed overcast, but it wasn’t raining yet—just heavy with mist that felt like water vapor, giving the illusion of light rain. She saw him standing under the loquat tree, surrounded by swirling mist, appearing and disappearing as if he were very far from her.

Shen Xiling’s heart immediately became flustered. Her heart beat violently as she ran toward him, embracing him tightly from behind.

The familiar scent of sweet flag immediately surrounded her. Her cheek pressed tightly against his back as she called to him: “Young Master…”

As if to make him stay.

His clothes were quite damp and somewhat cold, probably from standing in the mist for a long time. He didn’t respond when she called, but he also didn’t pull away her hands, so Shen Xiling was able to stay close to him for a long time.

Only this way could she barely feel at ease.

She indulged in such intimacy, but was more concerned about his health. So before long she loosened her tight embrace, came around to his front, and saw that his complexion wasn’t as pale as last night. Her heart settled somewhat, and she asked: “Young Master, do you feel better? Are you still uncomfortable?”

He looked down at her. In the mist, those beautiful phoenix eyes were calm and waveless, making it impossible to discern joy or anger. He didn’t directly answer her question, only saying: “Let’s have breakfast first.”

Then he turned and entered the house first.

He didn’t mention yesterday’s events, nor did he say again that she should leave. This naturally made Shen Xiling breathe a sigh of relief, but she felt his attitude was somewhat subtle, always making her vaguely uneasy.

She knew he wasn’t someone easily persuaded. No matter what the matter, once he made a decision, it was almost impossible for others to change it—like during the spring examinations years ago, even when everyone said he was wrong and even his father used family discipline, they couldn’t make him change his mind.

That was just the kind of person he was.

Shen Xiling naturally knew his temperament, but when it came to stubbornness, she felt she might not lose to him either. If he persisted, she would cry, plead, or use old tricks to find ways to soften his heart—in any case, she would never compromise.

Thinking this through, Shen Xiling’s heart actually settled. Seeing that breakfast wasn’t yet on the table, she poked her head through the door to tell Qi Ying, then went to help at the stove.

The place of confinement in the barren mountains was naturally crude, with no kitchen—only an outdoor stove placed in the back courtyard. When Shen Xiling went over, Qing Zhu was busy there.

Though he had attended Qi Ying since childhood, his work was merely brewing tea and pouring water. He was truly an outsider when it came to cooking. Now suddenly having to prepare meals, he was truly flustered. When Shen Xiling looked, she saw he had even chopped the vegetables into pieces, which was really inappropriate, so she couldn’t help but take over for him.

Qing Zhu felt somewhat embarrassed. Seeing her come to help made him feel awkward. He first thanked her, then asked: “You… aren’t leaving?”

Shen Xiling didn’t answer, but asked: “Why don’t I see Brother Bai? Where did he go?”

Upon hearing this, Qing Zhu’s expression looked unpleasant, as if there was some secret behind it. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell Shen Xiling, so he remained silent.

This way, they were both not answering each other’s questions, which seemed quite fair.

Shen Xiling smiled faintly and stopped chatting with Qing Zhu, only looking at the things in the vegetable basket—all fresh vegetables, plus eggs, rice, and flour.

She asked: “Where do these things come from?”

This question Qing Zhu could finally answer. He said: “The imperial guards at the foot of the mountain send someone to deliver them once daily.”

Shen Xiling responded, then asked: “Is it the same person who comes to deliver each time?”

Qing Zhu answered: “Yes, a young man.”

Shen Xiling nodded, then turned to smile at Qing Zhu, saying: “You go keep the young master company. I can manage here by myself.”

Qing Zhu knew himself to be an outsider in cooking matters, and staying here would only be a hindrance, so after exchanging a few polite words with Shen Xiling, he yielded the stove to her. He lingered around her for a moment, discovering that Shen Xiling truly had no intention of asking for his help, so he pursed his lips and left embarrassedly.

The ingredients sent by the Wei people were quite abundant. They probably thought that since Qi Ying came from an aristocratic family in Jiangzuo, he must have special requirements for food. Actually, they were mistaken—his daily diet had always been extremely light and simple, no different from ordinary households on the streets.

Shen Xiling thought it over and simply made white congee for him, stir-fried Chinese toon, steamed winter melon with minced meat, and finally… steamed an egg custard.

There was no milk at the stove, so her method was slightly different from before. She only added soft tofu and peeled two shrimp to put in, not knowing if he would like it.

While steaming the egg custard, she inevitably thought of some past events, like the first time she secretly brought him egg custard as a child. That day was Lantern Festival, and she had just arrived at Fenghe Courtyard. Properly speaking, she wasn’t allowed in the kitchen, let alone cooking for him. She had to beg Sister Zijun to be allowed to add a dish to his table.

He probably liked her cooking, because later every time she cooked, he was quite appreciative. And if she didn’t make egg custard for a long period, he would subtly remind her. Each time he did this, Shen Xiling would secretly smile, as if playing a silent game with him.

Those days could truly be called peaceful and beautiful times.

She smiled faintly, then remembered that before she fell ill this time, he hadn’t gone to the polo match but was separated from her by a screen on the second floor of Yilou. When he saw she hadn’t eaten much, he later had Gu Juhan send her food—also egg custard.

Was she being too sentimental and troublesome? Even a simple bowl of egg custard could make her heart ache with worry.

But… she truly thought of him no matter what she did.

When breakfast was ready, Qing Zhu came to help carry the food to the table. Shen Xiling had wanted to have him eat with them, but he withdrew on his own, leaving only her and Qi Ying sitting in the room.

The place of confinement was naturally crude, and this dwelling was somewhat narrow and cramped. Besides the bed, there was only a tall desk with several books of unknown titles stacked on it, not even a chair.

Qing Zhu was quite clever, bringing in the short table and cushions that had been placed in the courtyard, barely managing to create a place for dining.

Shen Xiling sat across from Qi Ying and felt somewhat constrained for a moment. She looked at his complexion, then picked up a soup spoon to serve him congee, passing the bowl to him.

He reached out to take it and thanked her. Shen Xiling wanted to say he needn’t be so polite with her, but somehow felt the atmosphere wasn’t suitable for such words, so she only smiled somewhat stiffly and pointed to the small dishes, saying: “Young Master, please try them and see if my cooking skills have grown rusty.”

She was indeed somewhat rusty.

After she married far away to the north, she had become busy, needing to familiarize herself with unfamiliar people and affairs while secretly managing business with Master Gong. Naturally, she was stretched thin. Moreover, she was heartbroken at that time and had no mood for cooking. With the person she missed not by her side, she rarely cooked anymore. The few times she did were when Gu Juhan returned safely from the battlefield and she cooked to welcome him home.

Today, making soup again, she inevitably felt somewhat out of practice. She had lost her touch with salt, not knowing how much was appropriate, and felt quite anxious now.

She watched Qi Ying change to a spoon and first scoop a spoonful of egg custard. For a moment she both worried that the changed taste might displease him, yet couldn’t help feeling faintly happy, thinking: He’s still the same as before, loving to eat the egg custard she made.

She observed his reaction and after a while asked: “How is it?”

“Very good,” he looked at her and smiled almost imperceptibly, pausing before adding: “Only it’s somewhat different from before.”

These words were quite ordinary, merely stating facts, but spoken by him in that context, the sentence seemed like a double entendre: he wasn’t just referring to the egg custard, but saying that between them, things had already become somewhat different from before.

Shen Xiling felt a stab in her heart, as if someone had stepped on a painful spot. She immediately explained anxiously: “Today there was no milk at the stove. If there had been, the taste would definitely be exactly the same as before, absolutely no different. I…”

She was talking around the subject.

She clearly knew his deeper meaning but was only addressing the surface layer.

“Wenwen,” Qi Ying gently interrupted her, “let’s eat.”

This “Wenwen” indeed silenced Shen Xiling. She couldn’t quite fathom his meaning: if he felt they could no longer return to the past, then why did he call her by her former name? But if he still remembered those past times, why had his words carried hidden meaning just now?

She didn’t understand, but stubbornly believed in her heart that he hadn’t denied the past—or perhaps it wasn’t belief, she was just avoiding another possibility.

She silently lowered her eyes and picked up her chopsticks, unconsciously gripping them very tightly.

He tasted her stir-fried Chinese toon and praised it as delicious, then said in a conversational manner: “Spring comes later in the north, so Chinese toon is rarely fresh. By April, it’s still edible.”

Shen Xiling hadn’t expected him to suddenly mention this and was inevitably somewhat stunned. After coming to her senses, she continued: “Yes, though Chinese toon comes out later here than in Jiangzuo, by April and May it’s still tender and palatable.”

Qi Ying responded, then after thinking asked: “Do you like eating Chinese toon? I can’t quite remember.”

Shen Xiling was stunned again, then shook her head, saying: “No, I don’t particularly like it.”

She didn’t really like eating Chinese toon, always feeling the flavor was too strong. She could eat it, just didn’t particularly like it.

Qi Ying nodded and said: “I remember you didn’t like it much either. That day when I saw you at Yilou, seeing Chinese toon on your table was somewhat surprising.”

This truly surprised Shen Xiling—she really hadn’t expected him to voluntarily bring up that day at Yilou.

That day he went to see her… probably because he missed her too.

Shen Xiling’s heart warmed, and the tense feeling that had been constant gradually relaxed. She smiled at him, her eyes still like those of childhood, as if touched with dew, answering: “The General likes it. That day the Chinese toon was ordered for him.”

Upon hearing this, Qi Ying nodded unsurprisingly, then continued the conversation about Gu Juhan.

He asked her: “Has he treated you well all these years?”

Author’s Note:

The next update will be the last one before that happens. Please watch the male lead perform an act of courting death.