It must be said that Miss Ye’er had a deep affection for Wen Xian.

And because of her death, Wen Xian never again lit lamps in his room—he too was devoted to love.

Xiao Xiyue carried that lamp, circling around the room.

At this moment, the courtyard was filled with joy and harmony.

That Kongming lantern had already risen until its shadow could no longer be seen, yet Jingrong kept pondering what exactly that woman had written.

On the rooftop, Muruo had arrived at some unknown time, saying to the bright moon, “The bright moon is many, my heart is also beautiful.” Having finished, he praised himself again, “Mm, this poem is quite good.”

Bah, shameless.

Jingrong gave him a sidelong glance. “Did you see it clearly?”

“You mean the characters on the Kongming lantern?”

“Mm.”

“I saw them.”

“What did it say?”

Muruo recalled, “It seemed to be, ‘Live and die together, share the same tomb.'”

Jingrong was speechless. “That’s what I wrote.”

Pfft—

Muruo nearly spat blood, giving him a disdainful glance. “You really are sickeningly sweet.”

Others laugh at him for being sickeningly sweet; he laughs at others for not understanding love.

With a push of his foot, he also leaped onto the rooftop, sitting down beside Muruo. After glancing twice, he asked curiously, “Where’s your wine?”

“Rarely is tonight such a fine time. Not drinking, just appreciating the moonlight.”

“Strange!”

“What? Haven’t you always been telling me not to drink? Now that I’m not drinking today, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“This prince never pleads with people. If you want to drink, then drink. It’s just that if you drink too much and die in front of this prince, that won’t do. This prince won’t arrange a coffin for you.” Having spoken, the corner of Jingrong’s mouth curved slightly.

His sharp tongue wasn’t a one or two-day affair.

So Muruo was used to it.

He tilted his head back and lay down, his whole body like a salted fish flipping its belly up to bask there.

“Jingrong, you can rest assured. If one day I really am going to die, I definitely won’t die in front of you. So you fundamentally won’t need to arrange a coffin for me.”

“Of course you won’t die in front of me, because if someone else wants to kill you, I’ll kill that person first.”

“Then… what if you want to kill me?”

The surroundings suddenly fell quiet!

Muruo didn’t know why he had suddenly asked such a question either.

Jingrong was also stunned at the time, his brow furrowing deeply as he said seriously, “You will never become a soul under my sword.”

Their eyes met!

This was the friendship between brothers.

After a moment, Muruo laughed again, placing both hands behind his head, legs crossed, staring at the full moon in the sky. “We will never become enemies, so there will never be a day when we draw swords against each other.”

If there was someone who could die for Jingrong, Muruo would absolutely be one of them. If there was someone who could die for Muruo, Jingrong would also absolutely be one.

Since the day Jingrong was sent out of the palace after his mother consort’s death, in his childhood memories, there were Muruo and Kong Yu. He had long since determined they were his family—family for whom he could go through fire and water, even if it meant sacrificing his own life, he absolutely would not harm them in the slightest.

Soon, Tang Si’s voice came in, complaining that they released Kongming lanterns without calling her.

That voice was truly both shrill and high-pitched.

Hearing it, Muruo instinctively covered his ears, saying disdainfully, “Whoever marries this kind of woman will definitely have suffered eight lifetimes of bad luck.”

But Jingrong sarcastically threw him a line, “I hope that unlucky person isn’t you.”

“Of course it’s not me. It could be anyone but not me.”

Just kidding—would this brother take a liking to this kind of woman? You’d have to beat him to death before he’d do such a thing.

The two sat there, backs to the courtyard.

One sitting, one lying down.

The visual was extremely strong.

If one of them changed into women’s clothing, the picture would be even more beautiful.

The next day.

Ji Yunshu rose very early, holding a gourd ladle, watering flowers in the courtyard.

Those flowers were seeds she had planted herself on the second day after moving in. Some had just sprouted, while others had already bloomed.

She watered them for a while, ate breakfast, then had Shi Zijin prepare a carriage and made a trip to Wen Xian’s residence.

But as soon as she entered, she saw an intense fight.

Wen Xian and Zhao Huai were fighting desperately.

One was already sickly, physically weak. The other was disabled in one hand, lacking strength.

So they were evenly matched, always in a state of sparring.

The two hadn’t noticed Ji Yunshu’s arrival.

But Wen Panshi, who had been watching from the side all along, immediately came forward to greet her.

“Young Master, why have you come?” he asked in confusion.

“General Wen, I’ve come for Young Master Wen.”

“They…”

“I know. Let them fight.” Although she opposed violence, she didn’t oppose that outlet for force.

Yes, an outlet!

Zhao Huai had killed Lin Feng. This grievance, Wen Xian naturally couldn’t swallow. That was his best friend who had died right before his eyes. That feeling of watching one’s brother die with open eyes, from the time Wen Xian was locked in prison until this very moment, had been tearing violently at his heart.

This was also why the two had started fighting.

So what was she going to stop?

Let them fight then.

Only, the two had been sparring for a long time.

Still no winner or loser!

Watching made bystanders anxious.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Wen Xian, whose body was already sickly, finally ran out of stamina. Zhao Huai gained the upper hand and, in one smooth motion, placed his sword against his neck.

The sword edge pierced, creating a small cut on Wen Xian’s neck.

Striking red blood gradually seeped out, staining that gleaming silver sword edge.

“Wen Xian, swords have no eyes. If I hurt you, I won’t care.”

Wen Xian glared angrily. “You could even kill Lin Feng—would you not dare kill me?”

“You also saw the situation at that time. For his own purpose, he didn’t hesitate to take the Young Master’s life. If there’s a first time, there will be a second. So I could only do that.”

“So you had to kill him? Lin Feng only did this to avenge his father. He had no intention of harming the Young Master.”

“That’s your way of thinking. In any case, anyone who endangers the Young Master’s life should be killed.” Zhao Huai’s tone was rigid.

And this reason, no one could refute.

Wen Xian raised his chin slightly, laughing coldly. “Even so, his crime didn’t deserve death.”

“…”

“Either you kill me today too, or I will definitely seek revenge against you for this.”

Zhao Huai’s eyes narrowed. He exhaled heavily, and the next moment, withdrew his sword, inserting it back into the scabbard, saying solemnly, “Wen Xian, I know you and Lin Feng grew up together. I also know his nature wasn’t bad—he was just impulsive because his father’s revenge hadn’t been avenged. But for his purpose, he could disregard everything. One day in the future, he would also recklessly take the Young Master’s life, even all our lives. Just for this reason alone, I couldn’t spare him.”

How righteous he made it sound!

Wen Xian didn’t understand his so-called methods and practices, nor could he comprehend them.

He still laughed coldly, fiercely throwing the sword in his hand to the ground.

The sound of metal striking rang out.