“Jingrong, I didn’t lose to you, but rather to this book.”

What Wei Yi held in his hand was *The Art of War*!

Jingrong’s gaze intensified slightly.

Then, with a wave of his hand, Wei Yi threw the book precisely and without error into the nearby brazier.

It splashed up a shower of sparks.

The dry pages ignited in a ball of flame, burning away bit by bit.

Soon it became ashes.

Afterward, Wei Yi raised his hand and grasped the ceremonial crown atop his head, removing it.

With a release of his hand, the crown fell to the ground.

“Bang!” went the sound.

After the crown hit the ground, the beads on it scattered everywhere.

One by one they rolled in all directions.

Like soldiers storming a city.

He walked step by step toward Jingrong, a smile at the corners of his mouth, saying harshly, “Jingrong, the one who wins in the end is actually me.”

Having spoken, he forcefully swung his sleeve and walked toward the entrance of the Imperial Study.

The dragon robe on his body appeared extremely glaring.

And extremely ironic.

He had used his own hands to push himself to this point.

There was no turning back now.

“Creak!”

He opened the door, and light mercilessly shot in from outside.

This day had come!

Jingrong still stood in place, looking at the beads on the ground, one of which gradually rolled to his feet.

Before long—

From outside came the sound of Commander Xiao reading aloud the posthumous edict.

It echoed for a long time.

…

At a temple with flourishing incense outside the capital city.

People came to this place in an endless stream every day.

It was now past noon, and the monks in the temple struck the bell several times. The sound reverberated through the temple, slowly spreading out, carrying through the mountain forest, startling several birds into flight.

After the birds flapped their wings a few times, they flew back into the forest once more.

Disappearing from sight.

Ji Yunshu sat in the carriage ascending the mountain, lifting the curtain to look outside, listening to the bell sound echoing through the mountain forest.

It lingered in her heart for a long time, difficult to dispel.

“Waaah~”

The cry of an infant came from within the carriage.

She immediately picked up Mozhi.

It was probably because he had been startled by hearing that bell sound.

That tiny body was extremely light.

Fragile as if like a flower.

Ji Yunshu held him, gently patting and softly coaxing.

After quite a while, Mozhi finally stopped crying, opened those little eyes to look at her, his tiny hand in his mouth, extremely adorable and endearing.

Ji Yunshu’s eyes were full of affection as she used her index finger to lightly scratch his nose.

“Little one, why are you looking at me like that?”

Mozhi continued to look at her, gnawing on his own hand with great fascination.

After a moment, Lang Bo called from outside: “Miss Ji, we’ve arrived.”

She acknowledged and descended while holding Mozhi.

At the temple entrance, three monks were already waiting there.

The abbot in front, two young monks behind.

“Amitabha.” The abbot had a grizzled beard and a kindly countenance.

Ji Yunshu nodded lightly toward him.

“I knew the benefactor should be arriving around this time, so I’ve been waiting here.”

“I’m truly grateful to you, Abbot.”

“Please, come in.”

Ji Yunshu had Lang Bo follow her inside, while all the other guards remained outside.

Upon entering the temple, the scent of incense and candles came rushing forth.

It didn’t feel harsh at all; rather, it made one’s mood very peaceful. Combined with the wooden fish sounds echoing through the temple, it knocked away all the heavy feelings in one’s heart.

The abbot led Ji Yunshu into a meditation room.

The young monk and Lang Bo both waited outside.

Upon entering, the abbot looked at the infant in her arms and brought his hands together, saying “Amitabha” once more.

“Is this the purpose of your visit, benefactor?”

Ji Yunshu nodded lightly, saying: “Indeed it is.”

“What is his name?”

“Mozhi.”

The abbot nodded: “It’s a good name.”

Ji Yunshu then took out the jade pendant that Muruo had left behind from the swaddling clothes and handed it to the abbot, saying: “This jade pendant was left to him by his father. I hope you, Abbot, will give it to the child in your own name after he grows up.”

The abbot received it and held it in his hand to look at it. He understood in his heart, yet still asked: “But has the benefactor truly made her decision?”

This question caused tears to well up in Ji Yunshu’s eyes. She looked at Muruo—no, at Mozhi—that little fellow was still staring at her.

Those eyes truly resembled Tang Si’s so much.

Although her heart was filled with reluctance, she must accomplish what she had promised Tang Si.

“I hope this child can grow up healthy and well, without any hatred or grief. This is probably the only method I can think of. I beg you, Abbot, to grant this.” Her tone was choked with emotion.

“Since the benefactor has already made her decision, this humble monk will certainly look after this child well.”

“Thank you.”

She handed the child to the abbot.

The abbot held Mozhi, and it seemed they had an affinity—he felt extremely close to him at first sight.

But—

The abbot frowned slightly, saying: “Though this child has spiritual roots, I fear he will face many disasters and difficulties. This worldly connection will likely be difficult to sever.”

He sighed.

Ji Yunshu suddenly knelt down, kowtowed once, and said: “In any case, I entrust him to you.”

“Please rise, benefactor.”

“Should there come a day in the future when he asks about who his parents are, please, Abbot, simply tell him he is an orphan.”

“This humble monk understands. Please rise, benefactor.”

Ji Yunshu rose from the ground.

But her eyes brimmed with tears.

She looked at Mozhi, her heart filled with infinite pain.

But no matter what, she could not keep Mozhi by her side.

She could not let this child know about all of this.

She only wanted him to live healthy and well.

Just as Ji Yunshu was leaving, Mozhi suddenly began to cry.

He cried very loudly.

As if he knew she was about to leave.

Ji Yunshu’s hand paused as she pulled open the door. She looked back, and ultimately couldn’t bear it, turning back to take Muruo—no, Mozhi—into her arms.

Holding him tightly.

Mozhi stopped crying.

He continued eating his hand while looking at her.

Ji Yunshu’s tears dripped onto his tiny face.

She said: “Mozhi, after you grow up, no matter what, you must not set foot in the imperial court, and you must not have any connection with the imperial family.”

Mozhi didn’t understand.

The abbot said: “Benefactor, if you have already decided, then do not hesitate and stop midway.”

She pressed her lips together and ultimately handed Mozhi to the abbot.

She left without looking back!

The infant’s crying gradually rose again.

Echoing through that meditation room.

Extremely mournful!

Just a short while after Ji Yunshu left, a monk walked in. Looking at the infant in the abbot’s arms, he said: “Master, give this child to me. He must be hungry.”

The abbot looked at Mozhi, reciting: “Mozhi, Mozhi… From now on, let’s call him Xuanzhi.”

“Yes!”

The abbot then handed the child to the young monk.

“Amitabha!”

Ji Yunshu endured the pain as she left the temple and boarded the carriage.

Lang Bo rode his horse beside the carriage, saying to the inside: “Miss Ji, please don’t be so distressed.”

Ji Yunshu sat inside, her eyes full of tears!

Her hands tightly intertwined together.

After a long while—

She finally replied to the outside of the carriage: “Perhaps this is the only thing I’ve done right.”

…