After eating hearty meals for several days, Nanyi felt she finally had the strength to scold someone and decided to go catch Zhang Yuehui.

Her whole body was filled with resentment—she just wanted an explanation, but Zhang Yuehui had been reluctant to come see her. Rather than sit and wait for doom, it was better to take the initiative. She came with great vigor and spirit, having planned to launch into a tirade calling him a fraud the moment she saw him, but when she truly saw Zhang Yuehui in that instant, she found herself somewhat speechless.

She had already been carved into sharp edges by wind and frost, while he looked unchanged at all—pampered features, elegance steeped in romance and poetry, even more dazzling than the down-and-out scholar she had first met. This familiar yet strange face brought overwhelming memories.

Past times had magic—no matter what happened in the present, looking back always seemed filtered through a layer of hazy moonlight, beautiful beyond defilement.

Finally seeing him, her heart felt a bit sour, and for a moment she actually felt this wasn’t so bad—at least he was still alive. Many times she had worried anxiously whether he might have died on some unknown battlefield, covered by layer upon layer of yellow earth.

In chaotic times, being alive was the greatest fortune. And he was even living quite well.

Suddenly she let go of her resentment, and her body seemed to become lighter.

Although she bore these wounds, Heaven had still been fairly kind to her, giving her a chance to know the truth. Otherwise she might have been kept in the dark until death.

She lifted her hem and sat down calmly on the steps, then looked up at him.

“Zhang Yuehui, don’t you have something to say to me?”

The moment he heard her question, Zhang Yuehui’s heart shattered.

He really was no good—even in this state, he had still been avoiding her all along.

His legs went weak and he crouched down in front of her like a child who had done wrong, frankly showing an expression begging for forgiveness, carefully reaching to hold her hand.

At this moment, Song Muchuan stood at the corner of the wall, somewhat at a loss.

The night was deep. He had just been about to leave when he heard the door open.

Such private conversation was absolutely unsuitable for eavesdropping from a wall corner. Song Muchuan immediately turned to leave with integrity, but his footsteps involuntarily moved extremely slowly.

After all, he had to hide his steps to avoid being discovered—this is how Song Muchuan explained it to himself.

The night was quiet, and voices from the dark alley still drifted over faintly. While silently chanting “a gentleman should not listen to improprieties” in his heart, he instinctively pricked up his ears.

“Nanyi, I was wrong.”

“…I lied to you. When I left Lucheng, I didn’t go join the army but traveled to various places, managing Guilaitang.”

“You’re not really that scholar who spent all his examination money and didn’t dare go home, are you?”

“…Right.”

“Then what are you exactly?”

“How much more are you still hiding from me?”

Zhang Yuehui said bitterly: “My whole family was wrongfully killed, leaving only me alive. I wanted revenge but had nowhere to seek it. I resented the world’s injustice and simply became an enemy of this world, which is why I entered this business.”

Nanyi looked into his eyes and was stunned: “Then, am I also part of your revenge against the world?”

Song Muchuan’s footsteps stopped. He didn’t know what was happening—his hands were trembling badly. Even from some distance, he could still hear the sadness in Nanyi’s words.

That stubborn, eternally resilient soul was revealing her softest part. He desperately wanted to protect her from all the world’s harm, but he also clearly understood he was just an outsider.

Song Muchuan didn’t dare listen anymore and quickly left.

That was her forbidden territory—he couldn’t intrude further. What he could do was give her more choices for healing over this wound.

Zhang Yuehui was silent for a long time, not knowing how to answer.

He had prepared many explanations for her, but never thought she would ask this.

—This single sentence seemed to completely negate everything between them, also shattering Zhang Yuehui’s wishful thinking. He had thought that if he shamelessly apologized and coaxed her, he could gradually win her back… but was this really what she thought?

He seemed to be watching himself desperately trying to grasp a handful of flowing sand. A rare sense of powerlessness surged in his heart.

How should he answer to bare his heart?

If he denied it, would she believe him? Right now he was just an utterly untrustworthy liar. He clung to the warmth she brought him while destroying the human warmth she depended on for survival, accidentally hurting her in the process.

She wasn’t in his plans, yet was drawn into his consequences.

He didn’t even have room for excuses.

Nanyi instead smiled at him, her eyes curved, though there was clearly no mirth in them: “It’s fine. Whatever you say now, I can accept it.”

“It’s not like that!”

This smile made Zhang Yuehui’s heart tighten. He immediately denied it, gripping Nanyi’s hand firmly as if grasping his last lifeline in this world.

But she just looked at him blandly.

He realized his girl had already changed, become invulnerable. He didn’t even know when she had started growing up. Those things he thought would hurt her just drifted lightly past her.

But he wanted more—he wanted her anger, her scolding, for her to show even a trace that she still cared about him, like how she had treasured that broken bracelet.

He held her hands almost pleadingly: “Let’s not talk about the past anymore, alright? Nanyi, I know it’s ridiculous to say this—I was the one who abandoned you, my awakening came too late. But now we’ve met again, haven’t we? Everything’s still in time. We can start over.”

Nanyi truly gave serious thought to Zhang Yuehui’s proposal, and then her thoughts became increasingly clear.

She could forgive him, but that was merely understanding. To forgive to the extent of starting over—she couldn’t do it. Even just thinking about this possibility made hatred surge from the bottom of her heart.

But she didn’t want to hate him. Hatred was also an emotion requiring one’s full strength, and she didn’t want to be so tired. So she firmly shook her head.

“I can give up everything… Don’t you like Lucheng? We’ll find some undisturbed mountains and waters, build a bigger house, create a new Peach Blossom Spring.”

Slowly, Nanyi withdrew her hand from Zhang Yuehui’s grasp. He had gripped too tightly, making her feel a bit hurt.

She looked down at her empty wrist, which still bore a faint circle of tan lines where she had once worn the jade bracelet.

Nanyi suddenly felt it was all meaningless. Soon, her skin tone would become uniform again and all traces would disappear.

“Because it can’t be found, that place could become a Peach Blossom Spring. What’s broken is broken—it can never go back.”

Under her calm gaze, Zhang Yuehui felt himself disintegrating. The disguise on his face was gradually stripped away, revealing traces of madness—he had always been someone who cared about appearances, using this veneer to hide his pitifulness. But before her, he was just that pitiful.

Dressed in brocade, looking human—so what?

“Why can’t we go back!”

He gripped her shoulders like an evil spirit trying to break free from chains, determined to touch the Buddha’s light at the horizon. He tried to find answers on her face, but the night was too deep. Though he was right in front of her, it seemed as if they were far apart—he couldn’t see anything clearly.

Why? How could they not be able to go back?

“Is it because of Xie Queshan?!” Zhang Yuehui truly panicked, even beginning to speak recklessly.

“Zhang Yuehui, are you crazy!” Nanyi was startled and pushed him away forcefully, shouting back at him.

Zhang Yuehui seemed to be struck, the expression on his face receding like a tide.

He dejectedly released his grip. Yes, was he crazy to use Xie Queshan as a scapegoat at this moment? Was he admitting he had lost to him?

Absolutely impossible.

He shouldn’t be anxious. The wrongs he had committed, he would make amends for them. If not in one day and night, then day and night after day and night, until she nodded.

Nanyi hadn’t expected Zhang Yuehui to harbor such long-term thoughts in that instant. She just came to her senses and caught a thread of clue from his words. She felt guilty, but she also clearly knew that everything between her and Xie Queshan was unknown to anyone.

This might relate to why she had been captured by Guilaitang.

Seeing Zhang Yuehui calm down somewhat, Nanyi asked: “Why would you think I have a relationship with Xie Queshan?”

“So do you have a relationship with him?” he nervously asked back.

“Of course not.”

Seeing Nanyi answer so decisively, Zhang Yuehui breathed a sigh of relief: “Then I guessed wrong.”

Nanyi frowned: “Do you know something?”

She actually had a vague understanding—in prison, Guilaitang thought she was a Bingzhu Division associate and also thought she was in league with Xie Queshan. Didn’t that mean they thought Xie Queshan was with the Bingzhu Division?

Nanyi had thought it too absurd at the time, but seeing Zhang Yuehui, she wasn’t sure anymore, feeling he had his own reasons for doing things.

“I don’t know more than you do.” Zhang Yuehui avoided her question.

Nanyi persisted: “But how could you have such a strange guess?”

Zhang Yuehui had no choice but to explain: “You two disappeared from Li Du Mansion on the same day. Afterward, he returned to Li Du Mansion to inform about the Yucheng Army’s location, regaining Wanyan Jun’s trust, while you went to the Yucheng Army to make them withdraw. In the end, the Yucheng Army safely avoided disaster—judging purely from results, your coordination was seamless. I thought you had discussed it in advance.”

Nanyi had never looked at this matter from such an analytical angle. She vaguely felt she had missed some important clue… but upon reflection, another obvious matter struck her.

Nanyi’s voice trembled: “You know the Yucheng Army is still alive?”

“Yes.”

Nanyi looked at Zhang Yuehui with some fear—how could he know such secret information? Was the Yucheng Army still safe now?

Zhang Yuehui thought Nanyi feared that her relationship with the Yucheng Army would implicate her, and quickly coaxed: “I would absolutely never harm you.”

Nanyi’s voice suddenly rose: “Then you can harm others?”

Zhang Yuehui was at a loss for words.

“You haven’t sold the Yucheng Army’s information to others, have you?”

Hmm… quietly revealing it to Gusha didn’t count as selling, right? He hadn’t taken money and had even paid some medical expenses.

“No,” Zhang Yuehui answered decisively, “I won’t let you fall into danger.”

Nanyi was still somewhat angry. Only now did she finally equate Zhang Yuehui with that cunning Guilaitang master, the war profiteer intelligence merchant.

Everything reminded her that Zhang Yuehui was fundamentally a stranger she had never truly known.

“I can’t control you, I can only hope you keep your word,” Nanyi wanted to get up and end this conversation, “I’m leaving.”

But Zhang Yuehui urgently blocked her path: “Nanyi!”

All the words in his chest suddenly choked in his throat.

They stared at each other quietly, their shadows on the ground motionless.

Even the moon held its breath.

Two years of acquaintance and understanding, three years of separation—she had been with him from ignorance through her first awakening of love. She pretended to be rational, carefree, and strong. But she harbored a question she hadn’t asked, and feared in her heart that those feelings never spoken aloud but mutually understood had been misplaced.

But what if it had been wrong from the beginning?

“Zhang Yuehui, when you gave me that bracelet back then, what did it mean?”

Having asked it aloud, there was no need to care about right or wrong results.

Zhang Yuehui couldn’t answer. Back then he hadn’t dared speak the truth about leaving, yet wanted her to remember him while also wanting to dismiss her—such vile thoughts.

In this maddening silence, Nanyi slowly showed a smile: “No need to say it. I understand now.”

Nanyi smiled calmly, but that smile pierced Zhang Yuehui’s heart.

“You should have said goodbye to me three years ago. Then I wouldn’t have harbored wild hopes, thinking I should walk toward you, and there wouldn’t have been so many subsequent events… You only did one thing wrong.”

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. Nanyi felt the smile she was struggling to maintain was about to collapse. She forced herself to stare at the half-bloomed flower bud on the wall, with pale moonlight sprinkling on it—very beautiful.

When she liked someone, she wanted to present all the beauty she saw to him. She had a box filled with collected dried flowers, pretty stones found in rivers, a beautiful fallen leaf, and some cotton fluff that had fallen from quilts. All the four seasons she had observed alone, she had wanted to leave traces of them to share one by one when reunited with that person.

But at this moment, looking at the spring flowers again, she felt this beauty belonged to her alone.