After several light rains, the courtyard flowers and trees grew even more vigorously. Soon came the day of the Prime Minister’s spring banquet.

With Li Zhongqian’s imminent departure from war, Li Yaoying was busy preparing his traveling gear and didn’t attend the feast.

The Prime Minister’s mansion was decorated with incense and hanging screens, filled with guests.

Young ladies from various families attended in their finest jewelry and attire. Hearing the Seventh Princess wouldn’t come, they showed disappointment on their faces but secretly breathed sighs of relief—if the Seventh Princess were there, who would pay attention to them?

Li Zhongqian remembered promising Yaoying before the new year that they would go horseback riding together at Qujiang. After finishing military affairs, the siblings, accompanied by only a few attendants, dressed in plain clothes and rode several laps around Qujiang.

The day before departure, Li Zhongqian went to the palace to visit Consort Xie.

Consort Xie sat before the railings watching palace maids play on swings.

Fragrant grass circled the steps, the sunlight was warm, and she wore no makeup, dressed in plain clothes, smiling as she chatted with nearby palace maids, her expression serene.

Li Zhongqian walked closer.

He heard Consort Xie beckoning to a young eunuch: “Second Son, your hair is messy, come here, let Mother fix it for you.”

The young eunuch responded with a smile, but as he walked under the corridor, he ran into the gloomy-faced Li Zhongqian. His face turned white as he stumbled back and fell to his knees.

“Your Highness, forgive me!”

The young eunuch didn’t dare raise his head, trembling violently.

Consort Xie often mistook people—always treating the palace maid Awei as the Seventh Princess, and the young eunuch as the Second Prince in his youth. If they didn’t respond, Consort Xie would become frightened and panicked.

Later, the Imperial Physician instructed the young eunuch and Awei to humor Consort Xie, pretending to be the young prince and princess. The Seventh Princess also assured them they wouldn’t be blamed, which was why he dared, despite his lowly status, to answer when Consort Xie called him “Second Son.”

Li Zhongqian remained silent.

After waiting a while without seeing the young eunuch, Consort Xie looked over, puzzled.

Li Zhongqian met his mother’s gaze for a moment.

Consort Xie’s expression was bewildered.

Li Zhongqian looked away and said flatly, “It’s nothing. The Consort is calling you, go on.”

The young eunuch exhaled deeply, got up, and scurried away.

Consort Xie called after him with a smile: “Second Son, walk slower, don’t fall.”

Li Zhongqian stood in the corner for a long while before turning to leave.

Awei escorted him to the palace gate. Seeing his cold expression, she couldn’t help explaining: “Your Highness, please don’t blame the Consort…”

Li Zhongqian calmly interrupted her: “I don’t blame Mother.”

He understood—Mother was ill, that’s why she was like this.

The guard waited outside the palace gate with his mount. Li Zhongqian took the reins but suddenly paused.

“I have something to ask you. Answer truthfully, don’t hide anything.”

His tone was icy and stern.

Awei quickly responded respectfully: “Your Highness need only ask, this servant dares not conceal anything.”

Li Zhongqian asked: “Has the Seventh Miss coughed up blood again in these past few months like last year?”

Awei started, thought for a moment, and then shook her head.

“Your Highness, the Princess has been taking the Congealed Dew Pills continuously, she hasn’t coughed blood.”

Li Yaoying had been sickly since childhood. Even though her health had improved greatly these past two years, she still needed medicine. The pills were called Congealed Dew Pills, compounded by the Imperial Physician using dozens of rare medicinal ingredients.

Li Zhongqian said nothing, but his expression relaxed slightly.

Last year, Li Yaoying suddenly convulsed and vomited blood, her life hanging by a thread. The Imperial Physician had been helpless.

Li Zhongqian found his sister’s illness strange and stayed by her side for several days.

Yaoying was unconcerned, saying she had just eaten raw fish and upset her stomach.

Having seen her suffering when coughing blood, Li Zhongqian naturally didn’t believe this.

He questioned the Imperial Physician but received no explanation.

Later, Yaoying recovered quickly, full of vitality, showing no signs of having been seriously ill.

Li Zhongqian could only suppress his suspicions.

He mounted his horse and softly sighed into the falling dusk.

Whatever Yaoying was hiding from him, as long as she was well, that was enough.

Half an hour later, Li Zhongqian returned to the prince’s mansion.

The front courtyard was bustling with activity, filled with laughter and chatter, packed with people inside and outside the front hall.

The Chief Secretary led Li Zhongqian around the front courtyard, smiling: “Your Highness, they’re distributing rewards in the front courtyard.”

Li Zhongqian’s lips curled: “Little Seven’s orders?”

The Chief Secretary nodded in agreement—whenever the Second Prince went to war or returned victorious, the Seventh Princess would order the steward to distribute rewards to all the mansion’s servants, both inside and out.

While the front courtyard roared with voices, the inner courtyard was also a scene of busy activity. The corridors were filled with open chests, and maids hurried back and forth carrying boxes and trays, their footsteps creating a jumble of sounds.

Yaoying stood at the doorway directing the maids.

The brilliant sunset filtered through layers of exuberant flower branches, gently enveloping her.

Amidst the dancing flower shadows, she stood before the steps, her figure graceful, with pomegranate-red lips and pearl-white teeth. When she turned to see Li Zhongqian approaching, her eyes curved slightly.

Born with naturally alluring eyes that seemed to hold autumn waters, her thick lashes fluttered, her gaze rippling with spring’s vitality.

“Elder Brother.”

She called to him softly, her smile radiant.

As if captivated by her dazzling beauty, all the flower branches in the courtyard trembled slightly in the twilight-tinged breeze.

Li Zhongqian’s mouth curved as he raised his hand to brush away an apricot petal that had fallen near Yaoying’s green-tinged temples.

The sister he had protected and cherished had grown up.

Yaoying pushed Li Zhongqian into the room: “You’re going to war tomorrow, sleep early tonight. No matter who invites you, you’re not allowed to go out drinking!”

Drinking could lead to mistakes—once when he was departing for war, he had been drunk, earning disapproving looks from the officials who came to see him off.

Li Zhongqian’s thick eyebrows lifted slightly as he drawled: “All right, you little housewife!”

Yaoying glared at him coquettishly.

She attended to various matters and checked the luggage, staying busy until the night before going to bed.

Perhaps because she had been worrying too much these past days, Yaoying slept fitfully.

She had a dream.

In the dream, rain poured heavily, and she was buried under piles of corpses, unable to breathe or move.

Dead bodies were everywhere. She lay soaking in rainwater stained red with blood, her whole body ice-cold.

“Little Seven! Little Seven!”

A voice anxiously called her name.

An eleven-year-old boy, his voice clear and young, called out trembling again and again: “Little Seven!”

In the torrential rain, he called until his voice grew hoarse, kneeling rigidly before the pile of dead bodies, his hands raw and bleeding as he turned over the rotting corpses one by one to identify them.

“Don’t be afraid…”

“Elder Brother is here…”

“Little Seven, don’t be afraid…”

Yaoying wanted to call out to him, but her throat was choked, unable to make a sound.

The long rainy night passed, but the rain hadn’t stopped, and the boy still searched persistently.

After what seemed like forever, the guard’s corpse pressing down on Yaoying was moved away, and bright light poured down.

Eleven-year-old Li Zhongqian knelt before her, his eyes bloodshot.

Looking at his face, Yaoying could no longer suppress her fear as tears fell: “Elder Brother… I’m scared…”

Li Zhongqian’s lips quivered, his whole body trembling as he held her tightly.

“Little Seven, don’t be afraid, Elder Brother has come to get you.”

Yaoying clutched his clothes tightly, crying out loud.

The next moment, the eleven-year-old boy vanished, and Yaoying found herself standing in a barren wasteland.

Fierce winds howled past her ears, the sky vast, yellow sand filling the air.

A dark bay horse leaped down the hillside like an arrow released from a bow. On its back, a young man sat tall and strong, with sword-like eyebrows and phoenix eyes, wearing dazzling golden armor, his helmet gleaming in the blazing sun.

War drums thundered as a squad of riders in dark armor suddenly charged from the shadows like a great net, rushing toward him.

The young man laughed heartily, his phoenix eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty cold light as he brandished a pair of drum-striking golden hammers, charging forward fearlessly, his snow-white cape flying in the wind.

Yaoying stumbled as she ran toward him.

“Elder Brother!”

She screamed desperately, her throat burning like it was being scraped by knives, “Elder Brother! Turn back! It’s a trap!”

Li Zhongqian couldn’t hear anything, swinging his hammers as he continued forward.

An eerie whistling sound cut through the air as arrows rained down like locusts, filling half the sky with countless black dots.

Gleaming arrowheads pierced his breastplate, one after another until his entire body was studded with them.

He was thrown from his horse by more than a dozen long spears, rolled once, then stood again, raising his hammers once more with hands of torn flesh and blood.

Yaoying pushed him, beat him, and cursed him through her tears.

Li Zhongqian stood there motionless, covered in blood, his robes in tatters, the bright light in his phoenix eyes slowly dimming.

Circling vultures dove down, their dark brown razor-sharp beaks tearing at his body.

Yaoying threw herself forward, driving away the vultures like a mad woman.

“Let go of my Elder Brother! Let him go!”

The vultures beat their wings and pecked viciously at Yaoying until she was covered in wounds, but she held Li Zhongqian tightly, both of them torn and bleeding.

…

“Elder Brother!”

Yaoying woke with a start, wiping her eyes, her fingertips wet.

She had had another nightmare.

A maid held a candle and lifted the gauze curtain, shining light on her face.

“Your Highness, were you having a nightmare?”

Yaoying was drenched in cold sweat, her clothes clinging coldly to her skin. She gave an absent-minded murmur of assent, her hands still trembling.

She often had this dream, but never had any version has been as vivid and clear as this one as if it had happened.

Moonlight flooded the windows, while outside lay a stillness like quiet water.

Yaoying felt around for the jade box by her pillow, opened the lid, and a pearl the size of a pigeon’s egg emitted a soft, clear radiance.

She gripped the moonlight pearl and, remembering what she had seen in her dream, her mind in turmoil, simply put on a robe and got up. She left her courtyard and walked toward Li Zhongqian’s northern quarters.

Li Zhongqian, confident in his martial arts, had sent his guards to keep watch in the outer courtyard, leaving only two servant boys in the northern quarters.

Yaoying walked straight in, the guards not daring to stop her.

The two servant boys were sitting back to back, dozing off. Seeing her approach, they stared blankly, thinking they were dreaming of a fairy, before suddenly coming to their senses.

Yaoying gestured for them to be quiet, tiptoeing inside. She stood behind the screen and lifted the gauze curtain to look in.

She didn’t want to wake Li Zhongqian—just wanted to see him for a moment, to confirm he was still alive and well.

The bed was empty.

Yaoying froze.

Suddenly a deep laugh sounded in her ear: “What’s Little Seven looking at in the dark?”

Yaoying let out a startled cry, instinctively throwing whatever she was holding in her hand.

Just as she released it, she realized what she’d done and lunged forward to catch it, but her foot suddenly slipped and she lost her balance, falling headfirst toward the screen.

“Careful!”

Li Zhongqian was also startled. He caught Yaoying by the waist, helping her stand steady.

With a clang, the moonlight pearl rolled across the floor.

Yaoying’s heart ached. She bent to pick it up, but as soon as she took a step, her ankle erupted in pain.

She must have twisted her foot when she lunged forward.

She drew in sharp breaths from the pain.

Li Zhongqian’s brows furrowed slightly as he called for the servant boys to light lamps, then carried Yaoying to the couch in the east room.

He had heard her enter the courtyard and, being unable to sleep anyway, had gotten up to wait for her to find him.

The room had been unlit, so she hadn’t seen him standing in the shadows when she lifted the curtain to look in.

On impulse, he had deliberately scared her.

Who would have thought she’d be so startled?

Yaoying stared straight at the faint light in the corner: “Wait, pick up the moonlight pearl first, don’t let it get damaged.”

Li Zhongqian frowned, his voice low: “Let’s check your ankle first.”

Yaoying sat back on the couch, trying to rotate her right foot, then sighed in relief: “It’s fine, just twisted it a bit. It’ll be better soon.”

Li Zhongqian said nothing, removed her silk sock, took the lamp from the servant, and examined her foot carefully.

After confirming that her right foot was indeed just twisted, with no internal injury, he helped her put the sock back on, then went to the screen, picked up the moonlight pearl, and brought it to her.

“It’s not some rare treasure. If it breaks, it breaks—I’ll find you an even better one.”

Li Zhongqian’s tone was stern.

The screen in his room was a full-length one inlaid with mica stone. If she had fallen into it earlier, she would certainly have split her head open—it was no joking matter!

Yaoying cradled the moonlight pearl, blew off the dust, and said with a smile: “Elder Brother, I just like this one.”

She made no mention of how he had scared her, remaining sweet and docile.

Li Zhongqian sighed helplessly, noticed the cold sweat on Yaoying’s forehead, and asked softly: “Did you have another nightmare?”

Remembering those dreams, Yaoying’s chest tightened. She nodded and raised her face, staring at Li Zhongqian without blinking.

Her expression was tense as if she feared he would disappear the moment she blinked.

Li Zhongqian didn’t ask further, saying gently: “It’s nothing, they’re just dreams.”

Yaoying lowered her gaze and made a sound of agreement.

She had already given her warnings too many times; there was no need to repeat them.

Li Zhongqian sighed, his lips curving: “Little Seven, Elder Brother promises you, I will return alive. If Elder Brother is defeated, I’ll surrender to them. No matter how they humiliate me, even if they make me kneel and kowtow before their army, it doesn’t matter—Elder Brother will come back alive.”

Yaoying lifted her face, her eyes wide, looking at Li Zhongqian in disbelief.

As a son of the Li family, with his mother’s family being the world-renowned Xie clan, how could Li Zhongqian, proud as he was, speak such unheroic words?

In the book, when surrounded by cavalry, he fought until his last moment without showing any fear, killing several riders before taking his final breath.

Elder Brother must be saying these things just to ease her worries.

Yaoying’s heart swelled with emotion, her eyes reddening.

Li Zhongqian raised his hand to tap her nose, saying with a smile: “Elder Brother keeps his word.”

Yaoying always thought he still carried some of the Xie family’s noble spirit, that he was upright and fought for the country, unyielding until death.

He didn’t dare let Yaoying know that he had already changed.

What did the Li family matter to him?

What did Great Wei matter to him?

What did the lives of common people matter to him?

All the world’s people, the chaos of troubled times, hundred-year strategies, internal and external threats… he didn’t give a damn about any of it!

He only wanted Little Seven to be safe and well.

Moonlight-like water, a pool of clear radiance before the screen.

Li Zhongqian carried Yaoying on his back to return her to her room.

After talking with him for a while, Yaoying felt more at ease. She lay obediently on his back, arms around his neck, saying: “Elder Brother, I’ll wait for your return.”

Li Zhongqian responded with a sound of agreement.

“It will be the end of summer when you return.” Yaoying calculated the time. “I want to go hunting in the Western Park.”

Li Zhongqian smiled: “All right.”

“They have dragon boat races every year in the Eastern Capital. Let’s take Mother to stay there for a few days.”

“All right.”

Li Zhongqian agreed to whatever Yaoying suggested.

Her voice grew increasingly unclear.

Li Zhongqian looked back to find Yaoying had fallen asleep on his back, her luminous face resting on his shoulder, her right hand clenched in a fist, still tightly gripping the moonlight pearl even in sleep.

He smiled.

She must have been exhausted from all her busy preparations these past days.

…

The next morning, Yaoying saw Li Zhongqian off to war.

She stood on the city wall without a veil, her hand on the battlements, watching the army march south.

Li Zhongqian, mounted on his warhorse, turned back to wave a pair of golden hammers in her direction, resplendent in golden armor and white robes, the picture of martial vigor.