The year’s end, New Year’s Eve.

Because Prince An would not be returning to the capital this year and was spending New Year in Pucheng, Pu Garden was decorated with exceptional magnificence and festivity. Even the bare trees with fallen leaves were wrapped in colored silk, with green silk cut into leaf shapes. Deep red melon-shaped palace lanterns like jade beads flying from heaven reflected on the snow-covered ground in brilliant, flowing colors.

Jin Siyu could originally have returned to the capital for New Year, but before the holiday he submitted a memorial stating that this winter had brought heavy snow causing many common people to suffer disaster. He wished to remain stationed in the northern region to oversee relief efforts and celebrate together with the people and army. The memorial stated that as long as one person cried from hunger and cold during the New Year, Siyu would have no heart to enjoy wealth and comfort in the capital. Once submitted, this memorial earned great praise from the Great Yue Emperor, who immediately bestowed generous rewards.

Such lavish favor upon a defeated prince was quite unusual. The court therefore became even more flattering toward this prince. Jin Siyu was in very good spirits and moved all the palace rewards into Shaoyao’s rooms, causing the servants coming and going from Miss Shaoyao’s quarters to wear smiles at the corners of their mouths and joy in their brows—everyone knew that after New Year, Miss Shaoyao would officially be taken as a concubine.

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, outer courtyard guards who lived in Pucheng rotated their leave. They’d return in the evening for night duty. Old Liu, being “newly wed,” was naturally among those on leave. He returned home briefly then rushed back, saying since his brothers were all busy today, they might as well all rest. He’d had leave rotation a few days ago, so having him here now was enough. Besides, the Prince wouldn’t be around in the morning—he’d gone to the military camp outside the city.

The guards were naturally happy to comply and all cheerfully departed. Only Old Liu remained in the front courtyard with a group of servants to stand watch. Old Liu had the servants running in circles—one moment saying the gate tower was built slightly crooked, the next saying there was paper debris on the ground. He was especially harsh toward one cleaning servant, forcing him to sweep a cross-courtyard seven times.

Old Liu didn’t go home for New Year, so his wife Jiarong also returned to the residence to visit her sisters. Sticking on her fake scar, she entered and found the embroidery room in complete chaos. She asked what was happening. The Head Seamstress said: “This morning, who knows where a crazy wild cat came from—it suddenly burst into the embroidery room. The young ladies were frightened and chased to beat it. That cat ran everywhere and clawed many clothes. The others don’t matter, but it tore apart the belt of an autumn-fragrance colored arrow-sleeve python robe the Prince was to wear tonight. This belt has intricate embroidery that can’t be completed in such short time. It should be sent in soon—what are we to do?”

Jiarong also stood there stunned. Being a girl without ideas, she could only join the young ladies in worried distress. But the Head Seamstress, seeing her, suddenly brightened: “Jiarong, you’re a newlywed. With your fine embroidery skills, you should naturally have already made quite a few clothes for your husband.”

Jiarong’s face reddened. After much bashful hesitation she said: “Yes, there are some…”

“Last time I saw your Sanhu wearing an autumn-fragrance colored robe after his shift ended. The embroidery work was quite good.” The Head Seamstress clapped her hands. “You made it, didn’t you?”

Jiarong nodded. The Head Seamstress’s eyes lit up. “I remember you’re especially skilled at embroidering small items. Does that robe have a belt?”

Jiarong hesitated. That clothing was indeed something she’d made for Old Liu, having put in considerable effort. The collar, cuffs, and belt were all embroidered extremely exquisitely. Though Old Liu wore it, he said that being merely a servant, wearing something too eye-catching would invite trouble, so he didn’t dare tie that exquisite belt outside. She herself felt sorry for her husband, thinking why shouldn’t her Old Liu with his fine bearing be able to wear it? But not wanting to bring trouble to Old Liu, she agreed and carefully stored the belt in her dressing table.

If she gave this away, she couldn’t get it back. Thinking of the sweet feelings of making clothes for her husband by lamplight, stitch by stitch, she felt somewhat reluctant.

However, turning to see the Head Seamstress looking at her expectantly, she really felt too embarrassed to refuse and give the impression that once she’d left, relationships had cooled. She could only reluctantly nod, bringing someone home to fetch that belt. It fit perfectly. The Head Seamstress breathed a sigh of relief and quickly had someone send it inside.

Jiarong was about to leave—her Old Liu had instructed her to definitely be home in the evening to wait for him to return for New Year’s Eve dinner. But the Head Seamstress earnestly urged her to stay, saying: “Tonight in the rear courtyard they’re lighting lanterns, performing opera, and doing acrobatics. The Prince said everyone in the whole courtyard can come join the festivities. Your Old Liu has to stand night watch anyway. You staying home alone for New Year would be so desolate. Better to stay at the residence and see the sights. Perhaps you and your husband can stand together—that would be like celebrating New Year together.”

Jiarong was moved hearing this. Though she thought about how Old Liu had repeatedly instructed her to be home, she really didn’t want to spend New Year alone guarding two deaf, senile old women. So she agreed.

Old Liu here didn’t know Jiarong had stayed. Tonight, besides leaving a few people to guard his house in the city, all their forces had already been rapidly deployed along the routes from Pu Garden to outside Pucheng for relay support.

Mid-afternoon, the number one theatrical troupe in Great Yue, “Eternal Spring Troupe,” entered Pu Garden. Many people went to watch the excitement. Physician Ruan’s young medicine boy also ran to squeeze into the crowd and collided full-on with an outer courtyard cleaning servant.

In the rear courtyard, the steward directed people hanging lantern riddles on trees. Study servant Qiu Shu was naturally a capable assistant.

Old Liu walked round and round the outer courtyard, walking through every place in the outer courtyard.

Due to the holiday, all city gates had already been closed and put under martial law. Recently there had been a foot of heavy snow. Daylight was bright, roads were slippery, city gates were shut—as long as one was a normal person, no one would choose this time to cause trouble. This would be a peaceful New Year.

The garden was therefore very relaxed, full of joyful voices and laughter.

Time gradually passed.

As dusk was falling, Jin Siyu returned. The guards each performed their duties as usual, showing no signs they’d ever slipped away.

As soon as he returned, he headed straight for Yinfeng Pavilion. The warm curtain at the door was stirred by his footsteps, jingling the golden bells in disarray. His voice jumped with bright joy. “Shaoyao, look what I’ve brought you!”

The woman leaning against soft pillows reading a book turned her head with a smile. “With you in such a rush, what good thing could it be? Is it an eight-treasure glazed hairpin or a flying phoenix jade pin? I’m telling you, I already have many…”

She suddenly stopped speaking, her eyes lighting up.

Opposite her, a man in white robes wearing a silver fox fur cape enthusiastically held up a freshly blooming plum blossom. The plum blossom was blooming beautifully—brown branches stretching vigorously and gracefully, dotted with deep red, brilliant five-petaled plums. The petals were extremely large, the stamens tender yellow, the flowing silk long enough to see each strand clearly. Set against his snow-white brocade clothes and jade-like countenance, he was vividly like a person in a painting.

She was momentarily dazed, then smiled: “This plum blossom suits you better than it does me.”

Jin Siyu smiled, his eyes tender as spring water. He came over and inserted the plum blossom in a white jade vase, saying: “See how this plum blossom is more vibrant than ordinary ones. This is a very peculiar type of plum flower from our area. It doesn’t bloom every year. It’s said to only bloom when a beauty appears in the world, so locals call it the Beauty-Rivaling Flower. This flower… I think it bloomed for you.”

“Beauty…” She smiled and touched the scar on her forehead and the red between her brows, laughing: “Have you ever seen such a beauty?”

Jin Siyu’s gaze swept over that scar. The scar, after Physician Ruan’s miraculous treatment, had already faded to almost invisible. Hidden by a strand of hair, it couldn’t be easily found. Even so, a trace of apology still passed through his eyes. He sat down with a smile, changing the subject: “Tonight we’ll first have New Year’s Eve dinner. After dinner, we’ll watch opera, set off fireworks, and solve lantern riddles. You’ve been cooped up so long—tonight you should enjoy yourself thoroughly.”

“Good.” She stood up, smiling happily. “Do I get red envelopes? Do I get new clothes? I remember at New Year everyone wears new clothes.”

“How could there not be?” Jin Siyu beckoned, and maids brought over two sets of clothes, both in autumn-fragrance color. Jin Siyu smiled: “Properly you should wear red, but it would be more appropriate for us to wear that in a few days.”

She naturally understood his meaning. In a few days he would formally take her as a concubine, when naturally she’d wear red. She couldn’t help smiling, lowering her lashes, her cheeks faintly flushing red. Jin Siyu looked at her, his gaze rippling, about to step forward. But she very naturally turned around, picking up the outer robe: “Let’s change clothes.”

Jin Siyu smiled and loosened his outer robe. Maids came forward to help him dress. She suddenly stepped forward with a smile: “I’ll do it.” She personally helped him put on the outer robe. She was half a head shorter than Jin Siyu. When she lowered her head slightly to fasten his buttons, her hair lightly brushed his chin. The faint, lingering fragrance from her hair filled the air. Breathing it in made his heart surge. From that angle looking down, he could see her slender, dense lashes trembling like butterfly wings. Her nose was straight and delicate, smooth as a jade pillar. Her lip color was beautiful, reminding one of the plum petals that most loved to rival beauty and compete for splendor.

Jin Siyu watched like this, his mood leisurely surging, somewhat warm and somewhat dreamy. He didn’t pay attention to what she was doing. Suddenly he heard her laugh: “What are you daydreaming about?” She affectionately straightened his collar, then crouched down to smooth the silk cords hanging from his jade pouch.

He watched her handle everything about him with near-virtuousness, warmth surging in his heart. He smiled: “Look at us like this—aren’t we the very picture of devoted affection and mutual respect?”

She didn’t speak, just smiled with pressed lips, her eyes brimming. Jin Siyu’s eyes turned, and he took her dress and skirt: “What goes around comes around—I’ll also help you dress.”

Her face instantly flushed crimson. She snatched the dress and skirt and rushed behind the screen, not forgetting to poke her head out and give him a glance, smiling: “Oh my, this won’t do.”

Jin Siyu smiled and didn’t pursue. He was refined by nature and in matters between men and women always preferred mutual willingness, believing that was what made it interesting. Moreover, proud of his noble status, he disdained using brute force or power to coerce. Now seeing her gradually let down her guard against him day by day, he felt another kind of joy and fulfillment compared to forcibly possessing her.

When she emerged after changing clothes—an autumn-fragrance colored heavy brocade palace gown tied with a silk cord of the same color, hanging a thumb-sized turquoise stone, the skirt hem spreading magnificently in large folds, embroidered with layer upon layer of broken branch flowers that decreased toward the top, creating a clustered charm that set off her especially slender waist as barely graspable. Maids draped snow-white fox fur over her. The snow-white down at the collar embraced her delicate chin. To her jade-like delicate fragility was added several parts innocent, timid warmth. She stood gracefully in this hall of heavy brocade and layered embroidery—a roomful of wealth and nobility couldn’t diminish her elegance one bit.

Jin Siyu looked up and his eyes brightened, inwardly praising her fine bearing. Autumn-fragrance color was something most young women found too mature, unable to carry off the temperament. But he’d never seen any color she couldn’t carry. Wearing delicate colors, she was bright and fresh. Wearing mature colors, she was magnificently dignified. This woman—her natural temperament transcended everything.

The maids were good at flattering, all smiling: “The Prince and Miss standing together like this are truly a perfect matched pair.”

Jin Siyu laughed heartily, pleasantly taking her onto the sedan chair to go to the main hall for dinner. The vast hall blazed with bright candles. The long table held over a hundred dishes—rare delicacies from land and sea, abundant and exquisite. Serving maids and servants flowed endlessly.

He helped her sit at the table. She looked around in all directions but didn’t move.

“Eat.” Jin Siyu personally served her food.

She said “oh” and after a long while couldn’t help asking: “Just the two of us?”

“Don’t you like it?” Jin Siyu gently asked her, ladling soup for her.

She shook her head, looking at the countless maids standing silently around, looking at the enormous hall that could be thirty zhang high and ten zhang wide, then looking at the two tiny people nearly lost at the long table’s edge. After a long time, she sighed, her voice thin: “I vaguely remember… in the past at New Year, it was always very lively…”

Jin Siyu’s hand paused, a trace of confusion passing through his eyes. After a silent moment he said: “Is that so? But I didn’t know… I thought New Year was always celebrated like this. This year I even thought it was quite lively because there’s one more—you.”

“You don’t spend New Year together with your imperial father and mother?”

“Adult princes leave the palace early to establish their own residences.” Jin Siyu showed a bitter smile. “During festivals, we follow protocol to kowtow, attend palace banquets—speaking of it as celebrating New Year together, but imperial father and mother belong to the realm, to the officials, not to me.”

She was silent, the chains on her silver chopsticks tinkling faintly.

“Imperial father must host banquets for officials during the holiday. Mother must receive noble ladies in the rear palace. The New Year is their busiest time. At those banquets, there’s endless ritual kowtowing—no one can eat their fill. Each time after it ends, I return to my residence to eat a proper New Year’s Eve dinner alone—also in a hall this big, at a table this long. One person.”

“Why not eat together with other people?” Her dark eyes looked at him with some confusion. “Friends, brothers, guards you’re close with in daily life, things like that.”

Jin Siyu was startled. This thought had never occurred to him. Friends—princes didn’t have friends, only advisors and retainers. Brothers—brothers were heaven’s greatest enemies that must be guarded against. As for guards and servants—they were completely unrelated. The consciousness of being heaven’s noble offspring instilled since childhood—he was in the clouds while others were at the bottom of the earth. How could they possibly sit together?

He wanted very much to refute her, yet looking at her misty eyes, he felt he couldn’t speak criticism. Her origins were presumably ordinary, without class consciousness or self-important awareness. She liked the warmth of human life, yearned for worldly liveliness. What was wrong with that?

“It’s not possible.” He gently stroked her hair and served her food. “Eat.”

She didn’t speak, just ate her rice, silently.

After finishing one bowl, a maid handed over another. She took it and continued eating silently.

After finishing, she continued…

He suddenly set down his chopsticks.

The crisp sound of silver chopsticks hitting the jade bowl startled her. She opened her eyes wide to look at him, a grain of rice stuck to her chin—partly comical, partly surprised. He looked at her small face nearly submerged behind the enormous bird’s nest, cabbage, and duck, opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

After a long while, he instructed the steward behind him.

“Invite the few gentlemen from the outer study who haven’t returned to the capital to come over.” He added: “Liu Yuan and the others from the inner and outer courtyards have also worked hard enough recently. If they can spare the time, have them come too. This prince will toast them a cup.”

She showed a delighted expression. Seeing this made his heart soften. Then thinking that she hadn’t met those few advisors from the outer study, she might inevitably feel constrained. After hesitating, he added: “Have Physician Ruan and his medicine boy eaten yet? Invite them to dine together as well.”

His gaze lightly swept over. The steward received it and respectfully bent at the waist.

Saying “invite over” naturally meant accepting countless layers of heavy scrutiny before being allowed to enter.

She didn’t know this but understood this was his greatest concession—after all, right now in all of Pu Garden, those who could barely count as “guests” were only these people.

Shortly after, those literati and prominent guards arrived flattered and trembling, sitting at the lower seats. After a while longer, Physician Ruan brought his medicine boy in.

“Xiao Dai.” As soon as she saw the medicine boy, she beamed with delight, beckoning him: “Come here, sit beside me…” Suddenly realizing this was improper, she turned to look at Jin Siyu inquiringly. Jin Siyu had originally frowned hearing this sentence, but seeing her timely awareness and knowing to turn back to seek his opinion—that expression was exactly like a wife inquiring of her husband—he suddenly felt joy in his heart and smiled: “Come over.”

Xiao Dai unceremoniously went over. Physician Ruan watched with a smile, shaking his head and apologizing to Jin Siyu. Jin Siyu said: “Sir has devoted heart and strength for Shaoyao. I haven’t yet thanked you, sir—no need for courtesy.” He gestured for the steward to seat him opposite himself.

The long table was very large, the chairs far apart. Though saying “beside me,” even stretching one’s arm couldn’t reach. She didn’t first attend to others but first poured a cup of wine, holding it in her hand to toast Jin Siyu. She drank it all first, saying softly: “Wishing the Prince ten thousand years of fortune and longevity, with years of celebration like today.”

Jin Siyu looked at her snow-white fingers holding the jade cup, unable to distinguish which was whiter. They reflected light under the lamplight. After one cup of wine, her face showed a faint flush. Serene as a delicate flower reflected in water, he hurriedly raised his cup with a smile. Before drinking, he already felt soft smoke filling his heart—already half drunk.

She sat down and only then used a long-handled soup ladle to serve soup to Xiao Dai, saying: “This is dried scallop and fresh shellfish soup. This season in this place it’s quite rare. Xiao Dai, try it.”

That youth didn’t wait for maids to bring it over but silently took the bowl himself, drinking very carefully sip by sip, as if savoring the taste of fresh shellfish that northern people rarely tasted.

He lowered his long lashes, not looking at anyone, only at the snow-white fresh shellfish floating in the clear soup.

Just now eating with Zong Chen in his own courtyard, listening to Zong Chen instruct him about everything tonight, he suddenly heard news of the Prince inviting them to celebrate New Year’s Eve together. This wasn’t originally in their plan. Zong Chen was immediately somewhat surprised, fearing unexpected complications. The two came over anxiously, thinking there might be some change. Yet upon entering, he saw her lift her head, smiling warmly as she looked over.

Meeting that gaze, he who had always been muddled and unable to understand others’ inner worlds suddenly understood her intention.

She wanted to celebrate New Year together with him.

To accompany him in experiencing worldly warmth, the fireworks of human life, in the rising steam and full hall of celebration, to have the first New Year in his life truly accompanied by someone.

In past years, no matter how many people were present, they couldn’t approach his world. His lonely, blank world couldn’t be dyed with New Year’s clamor, smoke, light, or five-colored brilliance.

Now this New Year—in a dangerous place, among enemies, at the center of hostility, before action, at the most inappropriate moment—yet she stubbornly and boldly insisted on giving it.

Was it because time passes year after year, fate drifts and wanders, no one knows what will happen afterward, no one knows whether they’ll still be together next year, so she must treasure the present and share this moment?

He slowly drank the soup. Though he didn’t like the particular smell of seafood, he drank it sweetly.

She watched him with a smile, her eyes affectionate, like all lonely people simply delighted to see a compatible companion.

Jin Siyu found this youth’s particularly focused manner of eating quite endearing. His interest piqued, he actually personally served Xiao Dai several pieces of meat, saying: “This is red fermented tofu pork made by Pu Garden’s premier chef—most tender and delicious. You’ve probably never eaten it. Come, eat, eat.”

The meat served over—three pieces.

Xiao Dai’s hand paused.

Physician Ruan opposite, holding his wine cup, also paused. An instant later, he stood with a smile, respectfully raising his cup to toast Jin Siyu.

He planned to use the toast to divert Jin Siyu’s attention. As for what Xiao Dai would do afterward, he had no certainty—he could only prepare for the worst.

Three years ago, when someone serving him forgot the eight-piece-of-meat rule, he threw the bowl into the latrine pit.

If this bowl now went into the latrine pit, that would be earth-shattering upheaval.

Physician Ruan raised his cup, his fingers secretly gripping the bottom of the wine cup, the corner of his eye sweeping toward Xiao Dai while his face still had to smile at Jin Siyu.

Xiao Dai lowered his head, staring at that meat, not moving his chopsticks.

Jin Siyu’s gaze had already drifted over questioningly.

Though Physician Ruan was smiling, looking carefully one could see cold light already flashing in his eyes. His standing position had also changed slightly.

Xiao Dai suddenly stood up.

Both Jin Siyu and Physician Ruan started.

They saw that youth stand, bow toward Jin Siyu, then sit down and silently, earnestly eat all three pieces of meat.

His attitude eating the meat looked completely no different from his attitude drinking soup.

Jin Siyu was greatly pleased, laughing: “Everyone says his mind is incomplete, but I see he’s actually quite sensible. No wonder Shaoyao likes him.”

The guests hurriedly flattered, lavishly praising, all saying things like the Prince’s virtue reaches all directions, even the simple-minded are moved by his influence, and so on. Miss Shaoyao listened quietly, something crystalline sparkling in her eyes.

Physician Ruan sat down silently, releasing his fingers. His gaze swept over Xiao Dai earnestly eating those three pieces of meat. For an instant, his eyes churned with complex, indescribable emotion.

No one knew better than he that person’s stubbornness and closed-off nature. For over a dozen years past, he’d used his supreme medical arts and various methods but hadn’t opened even one inch of light for him. The bustling mortal world had been so vividly displayed before him, yet if he couldn’t see it, he simply couldn’t see it.

Yet now, seeing him step by step retreat from the mist toward clarity, step by step retreat from his own stubbornness toward the only person in the world who could warm him—he didn’t know whether to feel worried or happy.

He’d learned to eat three pieces of meat, and also learned to force himself to bow to an enemy.

This complex life of simultaneously gaining and losing.

This year’s New Year’s Eve dinner—some people in the high hall clinked cups and exchanged toasts, sharing the New Year among enemies.

This year’s New Year’s Eve dinner—some people in the guards’ quarters drank messily with a bunch of companions, holding wine cups and running everywhere, raising cups toward the moon at the base of outer courtyard walls to send distant wishes.

This year’s New Year’s Eve dinner—some people queued in the main kitchen for food, sitting on the blue stone steps of the inner courtyard study eating already-cold dishes, thinking of their own past years of following protocol to kowtow, palace banquets, never eating their fill, returning home to empty New Year’s Eve dinners.

This year’s New Year’s Eve dinner passed just like that.

After finishing the New Year’s Eve dinner, Jin Siyu helped her out, personally putting on her cloak for her, saying: “The sky has darkened—perfect for setting off fireworks.”

The two walked along. Tonight at the boundary between inner and outer courtyards by Biyi Lake, against the artificial mountain, a stage had been set with brocade curtains surrounding a warm pavilion. The Prince had decreed that tonight they’d celebrate with the people—allowing all Pu Garden staff who hadn’t gone home to come watch the opera. But they couldn’t approach within ten zhang of the warm pavilion. Within that ten-zhang radius around the warm pavilion were deployed the most elite personal guards brought from the capital and garrison troops transferred from Pucheng County office. Jin Siyu said Pu Garden guards had worked hard all year—tonight they wouldn’t bear the heaviest guard duty, only protecting the perimeter. Those personal guards surrounded the warm pavilion in three layers inside and out, watertight—even a mouse trying to burrow in would find it quite difficult.

Except for some who could attend in service, Pu Garden guards and residence servants of all ranks were all blocked beyond ten zhang by the personal guards. Originally Physician Ruan and the medicine boy would naturally also have been spectators beyond ten zhang, but since they’d been invited to the dinner, very naturally after the meal they went with those literati following the Prince to the outer garden. No one paid extra attention.

By Biyi Lake, heads bobbed densely. Except for those on routine duty, several hundred people from Pu Garden—guards and servants—were all there. Old Liu was among them. Having covered someone’s shift in the morning, people felt too embarrassed not to let him come watch opera in the evening. Old Liu had a flask of wine tucked in his bosom, his sleeves stuffed full of peanuts. He tossed a bean in his mouth, took a sip of wine—leisurely and carefree.

Beside him, a cleaning servant rubbed his hands swollen from sweeping the courtyard today, looking resentfully at Old Liu. Old Liu pretended not to see.

A bit further away, study servant Qiu Shu stood calmly under an old tree, leaning against the trunk, watching the inner courtyard direction with a half-smile. The light from palace lanterns and colored lanterns reflected in his eyes—a shifting expanse of watery colors.

The cleaning servant wanted to sidle up to him several times besides bothering Old Liu, but was forcibly stopped each time by a glance from Qiu Shu. His mouth looked increasingly pouty.

Suddenly there was commotion ahead. Everyone raised their eyes to look. Old Liu, who’d been happily munching peanuts, suddenly stopped moving.

Qiu Shu straightened up.

Ahead, guided by melon-shaped palace lanterns, a group clustered around a man and woman emerging. The man wore a golden crown and jade belt, his countenance refined—clearly Jin Siyu. The woman had a graceful figure, draped in snow-white fox fur, with autumn-fragrance colored palace gown slightly visible. Her eyes rippled with flowing glances, her smile held spring. A deep red jade ornament hung at her brow, covering that reddish color and instead bringing out skin white as snow.

Gasps sounded from all sides. Everyone had heard that Miss Shaoyao with her extremely vulgar name had greatly won the Prince’s favor. They knew her looks must naturally be good, but hadn’t expected them to be this good.

No wonder the Prince with his decent self-control ultimately fell into this war captive’s tender trap.

Old Liu bent halfway over, mouth agape, a half-chewed peanut falling from his mouth.

The cleaning servant beside him disdainfully jumped away with a swish, yet also couldn’t help glancing in that direction, then glancing again.

These two were both seeing her true appearance for the first time—there was surprise at beauty beyond expectation, and even more shock at that face itself.

Old Liu’s shock was probably greater—he’d always thought his little aunt was that yellow-faced appearance. He’d never found it ugly, nor felt there was any need to be more beautiful. Now not only was she more beautiful but worse, that face was beautiful to a world-shaking, astounding degree.

Fortunately this was in Great Yue. If this were in some Tiansheng prince’s residence, a whole group would probably faint.

Old Liu stood with mouth open. After eating wind for quite a while, he finally retreated a step in a daze, muttering: “Dammit, this woman actually always hid her face from me. Dammit, but I don’t blame her. Dammit, with this face, anyone would have to hide it.”

The cleaning servant stood dazed for a long time, then suddenly ecstatic light burst from his eyes. He clapped his hands, thinking: So similar, so similar—perhaps back then the Emperor had already possessed her mother, so wouldn’t she also be of imperial blood? Then wouldn’t she and the Prince be blood siblings? This is so wonderful, so wonderful.

Over there, Qiu Shu’s gaze didn’t pause on her face at all—he was the first person to see her true face. The shock had long passed. His eyes only fell on her waist, where a hand rested in a place it shouldn’t be.

Then his gaze drifted to her crimson lips, thinking that night’s taste had actually been especially good…

Outside the crowd, various thoughts churned. Within the crowd, she stood with a smile, her gaze sweeping over the perimeter beyond ten zhang—very casually, like a dragonfly touching water, impossible to tell where exactly it landed.

At this moment, personal guards brought over fireworks. Jin Siyu personally held her as she lit one. The fuse hissed and burned, tiny light flickering on and off, illuminating the smiling man and woman gazing at each other—truly a beautiful scene.

Old Liu tossed peanuts faster, drinking wine urgently.

The cleaning servant pursed his lips, thinking that though he didn’t want to see this woman standing with his master, seeing her stand with someone else was also uncomfortable.

Qiu Shu and Xiao Dai behind her only silently watched the hand she used to light fireworks, not looking at anyone else.

“Whoosh!”

The east wind released a thousand flowering trees at night, blowing down stars like rain. The sky bloomed with deep purple, golden yellow, crimson, and emerald green flowing light—like phoenixes trailing gorgeous tail feathers across the heavens. Some faint clouds were startled and scattered, brilliant against the satin-like night. Enormous seven-colored celebration flowers lit half the sky in red brilliance, enveloping the entire Pu Garden filled with crowds below.

Under flickering flowing light, the dark mass of heads looked up entranced at the brilliantly changing colors in the sky. Streams of flying light swept over the crowd, reflecting on people’s faces in dreamy confusion. Faint whooshing sounds connected continuously. Outside the garden in the city there seemed to be responses too—firecrackers crackling crisply, fireworks rising, erupting here and there across all quarters of the sky and every corner. Though far from matching Pu Garden’s grand momentum, they added even more splendor to this liveliness.

Under the fireworks, she suddenly closed her eyes, murmuring words.

Under the fireworks, some people exchanged glances—eyes deep and calm.

At this very moment when Pu Garden’s fireworks surpassed sunset clouds and the whole city’s firecrackers welcomed the new spring, all forces lurking in Pucheng had also mobilized.

Firecracker sounds masked screams of agony. Firework light concealed flames. At such a moment when everywhere was bright, burning a few buildings and sending up a few plumes of smoke—no one would notice. The army outside the city wouldn’t deploy lightly because of this either.

She spoke softly under the firelight. In the enormous sounds, one couldn’t hear what she said. Judging by her expression, she seemed to be making wishes. Jin Siyu watched her, his eyes full of indulgence.

Wishing year after year would be like today, flowers blooming luxuriantly.

The fireworks weren’t yet finished when he led her to solve lantern riddles. He naturally was proficient in these, but she wasn’t skilled at this. She repeatedly got them wrong yet stubbornly persisted, turning them over one by one, determined to find ones she could solve.

Suddenly she stopped under one lantern riddle.

This was a revolving lantern, with riddles written on all four sides of the lantern, slowly turning.

The riddle was quite simple: “Single-mindedly promoting maternal relatives, Empress Lü surely has ulterior motives.”

Guess one character.

She stood silently under the tree, head slightly tilted. Jin Siyu came over, smiling: “What, did you figure this one out?”

“Something this difficult, how could I figure it out?” She smiled. “I’m looking because the revolving lantern’s painting is interesting.”

Jin Siyu looked up. The painting wasn’t particularly unusual—moonlit boundless reed marshes, white birds lightly sweeping past amid flying catkins filling the sky. This was also quite an ordinary painting, but during this festive celebratory season, people generally painted auspicious children and such. Seeing this felt especially refreshing. The painting pasted on the revolving lantern, when slowly rotating, made those flying catkins and bird feathers seem to fly up, making one feel in a trance that those white feathers and flying catkins were slowly falling on one’s neck.

Looking at the riddle again, he also felt it as different from the crowd as the painting. He called over the steward to ask: “Who made this?”

The steward squinted for a while, then said with difficulty: “Your Highness, many lantern riddles were bought from outside. Everyone helped hang them up. There’s really no way to…”

Jin Siyu waved his hand to dismiss him. Turning, he saw she’d already walked with light steps toward the next lantern, not giving that riddle another glance.

He followed, but for an instant the answer to that character riddle flowed through his heart.

“Regret.”

The lantern riddles were set under trees by the lakeside. The opera stage was set up opposite the trees, against an artificial mountain.

The warm pavilion was laid with brocade cushions and held refreshments, with braziers warming the four corners.

The two sat in the pavilion. She casually chose an opera. Opposite them, the Eternal Spring Troupe kowtowed from afar. After a voice that could split gold and shatter jade began the opening melody, the noisy Pu Garden fell entirely silent.

“…Flowers withering, orioles aging, wastefully passing so many fragrant springs. Home ten thousand li away, smoke and water ten thousand layers deep, alas, separated letters and geese with nowhere to seek. Alone, like snow-covered willow catkins flying lightly.”

Someone flew up like willow catkins, crossing the high, broad city gate over snow, a black shadow flashing.

She leaned toward him discussing the opera, with a delighted tone, praising how the Eternal Spring Troupe lived up to its reputation. He stroked her hair, promising that as long as she liked, she could listen often.

“…Fading sunset scattering colors, new moon gradually brightening, gazing at dimly hidden strange peaks locked in evening clouds.”

Sword light gleamed coldly, flashing bright under the sky of fire trees and silver flowers. Someone fell headfirst from the city gate. On the snowy ground, a vivid splash of scarlet.

She listened entranced, holding a red fruit and forgetting to eat. The fruit was bright red, yet not as red as her lips. He stared entranced, not knowing whether he was watching opera or admiring beauty.

“…Clearly, seeing stream water surrounding a solitary village.”

A group of people in white clothes like snow walked through the vast snowy ground. Farther away, at Fenglai Town on the border between Great Yue and Tiansheng, white-armored soldiers marched silently, horses with softwood in their mouths snorting in the night, exhaling mist like ice flowers. That marching route gradually curved toward the Yue army’s main camp outside Pucheng.

She finally noticed his distraction, smiling as she gave him a glance. He sheepishly turned back, not knowing what the stage was singing.

“…Gazing to the ends of heaven with no old friends, even with iron-forged heart, pearl tears pour forth. Only wounded by trifling gains like fly’s head, vain reputation like snail’s horn.”

City gates, beacon towers, armories, grain storehouses, post stations, Pucheng County office, Pucheng military command… all important parts of Pucheng that were half-resting for New Year’s Eve with only a few people on night watch, all places that could affect Pucheng’s stability and information transmission—black shadows shuttled back and forth everywhere, flipping and shaking everything loose.

She personally poured tea for him, ten fingers slender and graceful. He took it, also holding her hand and not letting go. She smiled and lowered her head.

“…Darkly thinking of former lovers, facing wind and moon, frequent joyous feasts and drinking, instead teaching me to add sorrow and separation’s grief. You tonight, alone tossing and turning, who will comfort you?”

Sword light suddenly rose and withdrew. One person fell. Immediately someone silently dragged them away. Someone swiftly climbed up, took down the red lantern under the corridor eaves, hanging up a wind chime with red tassels.

She fed Jin Siyu a piece of orange cake. He smiled and returned a preserved fruit. He wanted to feed it with his lips but with too many people present, felt too embarrassed.

“…Just relax, don’t worry or grieve. Put aside cares, slowly set forth on the journey, borrow lodging tonight to settle this body…”

Streams of shadows gathered outside Pu Garden, entering from an old building, disappearing into tunnels already dug inside the building.

He gently shelled melon seeds for her. The kernels went to her.

“…Only gratitude and accumulated resentment, ten thousand years, a thousand ages, never turning to dust…”

“Bang…”