Seeing Li Wei suddenly walk away, Wei Rao looked puzzled. Then she remembered that Li Wei had seemed to be looking behind her.

Who could make Li Wei abandon their lantern festival meeting with just one glance?

Wei Rao didn’t dare turn around, gripping her daughter’s small hand tightly.

A’Bao was still watching Third Uncle Li leave. Although she had her father now and didn’t need Third Uncle Li anymore, Third Uncle Li was handsome, and she didn’t dislike him. Third Uncle Li had clearly smiled at her just now, but then walked away—A’Bao found it very strange.

“Mother, why did Third Uncle Li leave?” A’Bao looked up and asked.

Wei Rao smiled, “Perhaps he had some business.”

A’Bae accepted this explanation. With one hand held by her mother and the other carrying her lantern, she happily continued walking forward.

Lu Zhuo was right behind the mother and daughter, watching Wei Rao accompany their daughter as if nothing had happened, watching Wei Rao smile at Li Wei like a blooming flower. He had also noticed early on that the lantern their daughter carried only depicted the two of them, mother and daughter. Had she truly let him go? Did she no longer want him? Even though he had returned, was she still determined to exclude him from her and their daughter’s life?

Lu Zhuo had never seen such a heartless woman.

He knew how much pain Wei Rao would have felt when news of his death first spread—he didn’t doubt her feelings for him at that time. What Lu Zhuo wasn’t certain of was now, in these three long years, Wei Rao’s feelings for him had faded to nothing. That’s why she would consider other men, why she kept delaying meeting him.

A month—Lu Zhuo had been back for a month and had waited for her for a month.

But on this night, when the capital was decorated with lanterns everywhere, Lu Zhuo couldn’t wait any longer.

He wanted to see Wei Rao. He wanted to ask her if she could truly forget.

“Father!”

A’Bao, who had inadvertently turned around, called out in delighted surprise.

Wei Rao closed her eyes and released her daughter’s hand as the child wanted to leave.

A’Bao threw herself into her father’s arms.

Lu Zhuo crouched down to embrace his daughter.

“Doesn’t Father need to read books tonight?” A’Bao asked happily.

Lu Zhuo smiled, “Not tonight. Father will accompany A’Bao to admire the lanterns.”

A’Bao was overjoyed. Leaning in her father’s arms, she turned back to look at her mother.

Only then did Lu Zhuo pick up his daughter and stand straight, his gaze also turning forward.

Wei Rao had already taken the opportunity while Lu Zhuo was talking with their daughter to study him for a moment.

Lu Zhuo’s three years wandering the grasslands had already become the talk of the capital upon his return. The Lu Zhuo in Wei Rao’s imagination should have been weathered and down-trodden, but the man before her wore a moon-white brocade robe with a black cap, revealing the handsome face from her memories. His left cheek indeed bore a shallow scar—that scar didn’t diminish his elegance but made Wei Rao feel sad.

When Lu Zhuo stood up, Wei Rao looked away, then glanced back at him, smiling and nodding, “Is the Young Master also out admiring lanterns?”

Lu Zhuo returned the smile, looking at his daughter in his arms, “Indeed. I wonder if I might accompany the Princess and the young princess?”

Wei Rao also looked at their daughter, “Naturally. A’Bao misses you very much.”

After speaking, Wei Rao continued admiring the lanterns at the stalls.

Lu Zhuo also withdrew his gaze, smiling as he asked A’Bao, “Where would A’Bao like to go?”

A’Bao felt that the way Father and Mother spoke to each other was strange, not at all like other families’ fathers and mothers.

But A’Bao couldn’t say what was odd about it.

She pointed to a lantern stall nearby.

Lu Zhuo carried his daughter over there.

Wei Rao silently followed behind the two.

With things to play with, A’Bao quickly forgot her earlier confusion, directing her father to carry her wherever she wanted to go. Having Father along was wonderful—Father could carry her the whole time without getting tired, Father would buy her delicious treats, Father could guess lantern riddles and win lanterns, giving her all the prizes he won.

A’Bao had such a delightful evening.

Wei Rao followed along the entire way, seeing Lu Zhuo’s doting love for their daughter and their daughter’s affection for her father. As for herself, apart from their daughter remembering to share treats with her and to give her some of the prizes won, in Lu Zhuo’s eyes, she seemed not to exist at all.

Wei Rao wasn’t without sadness, but fortunately, she had already guessed this outcome and was mentally prepared, so it wasn’t unbearable.

As they wandered, A’Bao fell asleep, sprawled on Lu Zhuo’s shoulder, her small hands relaxing and dropping the two lanterns she held.

Those two lanterns—one was the one she and her mother had made together, the other was newly bought by Lu Zhuo.

Lu Zhuo’s large hand swooped down, saving the one he had bought, while the other lantern fell to the ground. The flame burned the lantern paper, which Lu Zhuo stamped out with his black boots in a few steps.

The fire was extinguished, but the lantern was ruined.

After all, it was made by a mother and daughter together. Wei Rao felt sorry for it, looking at it again and again.

Lu Zhuo said indifferently, “I’ll escort you back to the carriage.”

Without waiting for Wei Rao to speak, he was already carrying their daughter back the way they had come.

Wei Rao had no choice but to follow.

Lu Zhuo walked very quickly, saying nothing the entire way. They soon reached the Princess’s carriage.

Wei Rao got into the carriage first, then turned around to receive A’Bao.

Lu Zhuo lowered his gaze, trying to hand their daughter down, but A’Bao’s small hands were tightly clasped around her father’s neck, unwilling to let go.

Wei Rao tried coaxing their daughter, “A’Bao, come here. Let Mother hold you.”

A’Bao mumbled a few sounds and continued burrowing into her father’s arms.

In this situation, if Wei Rao forcibly took A’Bao away, the child might cry.

Wei Rao finally looked at Lu Zhuo.

Ever since A’Bao had fallen asleep, Lu Zhuo no longer concealed the cold expression on his face. Meeting Wei Rao’s gaze, he looked at their daughter and said flatly, “I’ll escort you back to the Princess’s mansion.”

As a father doting on his daughter, Wei Rao had no reason to object. She moved back to make room, lifting the curtain for the father and daughter.

Lu Zhuo, holding his daughter with one hand and supporting himself on the carriage with the other, leaped up in one motion, entering without looking sideways.

Only then did Wei Rao enter.

Once everyone was seated, Wei Rao instructed the coachman to depart.

When the carriage left the bustling East Main Street, the road suddenly became quiet.

Wei Rao leaned against one side of the narrow couch, quietly closing her eyes, listening to the wheels rolling along the frozen ground.

After an unknown amount of time, a cold voice suddenly came from beside her, “I heard the Princess is selecting a prince consort. Have you found a suitable candidate?”

The familiar sarcasm made Wei Rao’s lips curve upward.

She had known this moment would come eventually. She refused to remain a widow for him and openly considered other men—how could Lu Zhuo not harbor resentment?

“Still choosing. When it’s decided, I’ll send wedding invitations to the Duke’s mansion.” Wei Rao opened her eyes and glanced at him.

From her angle, she could see Lu Zhuo’s unmarked right profile—handsome and cold like a block of ice. When they were far apart outside the carriage earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now, sitting close, Wei Rao realized his face was indeed more weathered than before. One could imagine that during his wandering days on the grasslands, he could no longer care about such refinements.

Wei Rao looked away again.

Lu Zhuo turned to look at her instead, “A’Bao doesn’t know about your plans. She keeps begging me to come to the Princess’s mansion to bring you both back. When do you plan to tell her the truth? I don’t want to continue deceiving my daughter.”

Wei Rao didn’t want to talk to him, saying carelessly, “Fine. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

Lu Zhuo pressed his lips together.

The carriage fell into deathly silence.

They arrived at the Princess’s mansion.

Wei Rao got out first. When Lu Zhuo descended carrying their daughter, Wei Rao reached to take the child, but Lu Zhuo coldly avoided her hands and walked directly into the Princess’s mansion.

Was he worried their daughter wouldn’t sleep peacefully?

Wei Rao thought silently.

A’Bao slept in Wei Rao’s courtyard, in the eastern side room specially prepared for her.

Wei Rao signaled Liu Ya to guide Lu Zhuo while she, exhausted in body and mind, went directly to her room.

Collapsing on the bed, Wei Rao closed her eyes, her mind filled with Lu Zhuo’s cold face.

However gentle he was with their daughter, that’s how cold he was with her.

Footsteps sounded outside—it was Liu Ya.

“Has he left?” Wei Rao sat up, covering her face with a tired yawn.

Liu Ya said anxiously, “Not yet. The Young Master requests that you come out, saying he has something to discuss with you.”

Wei Rao was stunned. What did he want to discuss? Who would raise their daughter?

Pulling herself together, Wei Rao tidied up briefly and went out.

Lu Zhuo stood under the corridor eaves. The moonlight was blocked by the corridor roof, making his expression unclear in the shadows.

Wei Rao walked toward him, stopping three steps away, addressing the distant night sky, “What does the Young Master want to discuss?”

Lu Zhuo looked at her disdainful expression and smiled.

He wanted to discuss many things with her—why she could be in such pain over his death that she vomited blood, yet could forget him in just three years; why when he returned alive from the brink of death, she could be so heartless as to not even see him once; what kind of prince consort she planned to find; whether she could let him raise their daughter.

Each question had emerged when he glimpsed her indifferent face while accompanying their daughter through the streets. Each question made his heart ache.

But this woman who was nearly driving him mad was standing right in front of him now. Between them, there were no endless wars, no vast grasslands stretching thousands of miles, no three years, no new prince consort she had yet to choose! Lu Zhuo didn’t want to discuss anything—he only wanted her!

Like a wolf that had lurked long enough, Lu Zhuo suddenly stepped forward, grasping Wei Rao’s shoulders and slamming her against a nearby corridor pillar.

Before Wei Rao could react, the man’s burning lips were already pressed against hers, rough and punishing in their intensity.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as Wei Rao bit back!

Lu Zhuo paused for an instant, then pressed her even tighter against the pillar. Wei Rao’s thin back pressed against the corridor pillar, aching faintly.

The more it hurt, the more it proved the man before her was real—she wasn’t dreaming. Lu Zhuo had truly returned, and he still wanted her.

Wei Rao held Lu Zhuo tightly, so tightly that Lu Zhuo’s narrow waist ached from her grip.

Lu Zhuo finally tasted her tears.

So she hadn’t forgotten—wasn’t that right?

As long as she hadn’t forgotten, nothing else mattered.

Cupping her tear-stained face, Lu Zhuo kissed her deeply, wishing he could merge her into his embrace.

The corridor pillar concealed the two entwined figures. Liu Ya wiped the corners of her eyes and quietly withdrew, leaving the moonlit courtyard to the man and woman reunited after a long separation.