The fish soup in the pot was already boiling, with white bubbles like milk rolling up one after another, filling the small kitchen with rich aroma.

Xin Mei lowered her head with a knife, concentrating as she carved the tofu. The tofu was soaking in cold water, and in the depths of winter, her hands were frozen red and somewhat clumsy, so she could only slowly outline the facial contours, holding her breath and focusing intently, afraid of making the slightest mistake.

Today was already the first day of the first lunar month. Tonight at the usual time, she would meet Lu Qianqiao at the cliff’s edge, and she wanted to make something delicious to bring him. After much consideration, she decided to carve a tofu Xin Mei—this would be more interesting.

She remembered the previous times she went to see him, he would arrive late each time, seeming rather reluctant, but later he began waiting for her early at the cliff’s edge. His words gradually increased too, no longer like at the beginning when she would say ten sentences and he wouldn’t reply with even two words.

…Was she about to succeed?

Xin Mei joyfully placed the carved tofu in a steamer. On the stove were two other steamers already steaming hot, filled with small buns and dumplings—these were for the demons in the Imperial Tomb. Since Lu Qianqiao wasn’t there, Si Lan had no mood to cook, and although the demons didn’t need to eat, it was still New Year after all, and how depressing it would be if everything was cold and cheerless.

“So fragrant, so fragrant!”

Manager Zhao, who was buried in the underground palace concentrating on writing the second part of “Destined Resentful Couple,” would occasionally come out for air. Smelling the aroma, he drooled and rushed in, his eyes glowing green at those round, white, tender pastries.

Xin Mei smiled as she ladled him a bowl of fish soup and offered several buns: “Manager Zhao, taste and see how it is.”

“Made by the young lady herself, how could it not be delicious!”

Manager Zhao buried half his face in the bowl, eating until his beard was covered with crumbs. Suddenly remembering something, he looked up at Xin Mei.

“Miss, are you going to Changgeng Pass tonight to talk with the General?”

“Of course.” This was something that would happen rain or shine.

“Then please help us bring a message to the General too.” He rummaged around in his wrinkled sleeve, and after a long time, finally pulled out a crumpled letter, placing it solemnly in her hands.

“Everyone wrote their names on it, and each person secretly said something to the General.” Manager Zhao picked at the crumbs in his teeth. “We wanted to give this to you a few days ago, but you never came to the underground palace so we never ran into you. In any case, everyone misses him very much. War Ghosts, transformations, perfection—we demons don’t understand these things. After living together for so long, leaving without even a word, does he still consider this place home or not?”

Xin Mei opened the envelope and saw a piece of white paper folded many times, densely covered with the demons’ names. Tao Guoguo and his little brother couldn’t write, so each attached a golden yellow feather inside, and the little brother even left a plump palm print on the paper.

“Si Lan was originally clamoring to go with you to see the General, but everyone held him back.”

Manager Zhao smiled lewdly at her: “This romantic moonlit rendezvous, this sweet intimate world for two—how could we let him go and spoil the mood? Miss, tell the General to hurry back. I’m almost finished writing the second part of ‘Destined Resentful Couple,’ just waiting for him to return so we can start performing. This time I’ve made many changes, guaranteed not to have another tragedy like last time.”

“Another one dies and one goes mad?” Xin Mei looked at him skeptically.

“No no, this time it’s absolutely different! An ending you’ll never guess!” Manager Zhao mysteriously stroked his beard and whispered: “I have the General’s mother contract a fatal illness. The mother’s dying wish is for the General to marry a War Ghost noble lady. The General is torn between loyalty and filial piety, so you have to sadly withdraw. Fifty years later, the General stands before your grave silently shedding tears, then draws his sword and kills himself to follow you!”

…How was this any different from before?

Xin Mei snatched the remaining few buns from the steamer and stuffed them all in her mouth at once. This crow-mouthed old man—good food really shouldn’t be given to him.

Seeing that the morning hours were almost over, and the journey from the Imperial Tomb to Changgeng Pass was long, Xin Mei hurriedly packed the food in a box and carefully carried it in her hand as she prepared to leave.

Manager Zhao escorted her to the edge of the Yunwu Array, smiling: “Miss, isn’t this quite good now? You’ve changed a lot too, not so childish anymore. Hurry and become an even better woman to win the General back.”

“I was already a good woman.”

Xin Mei giggled and turned to leave the Yunwu Array.

Unexpectedly, whereas normally as soon as she left the Yunwu Array she would inevitably see the Great Monk sitting in his gorgeous long carriage waiting for her—though she still didn’t know why this person insisted on sticking to her, his carriage flew fast and she didn’t have to endure the cold wind in the open, making him a perfect free coachman—he wasn’t there today.

Xin Mei circled the area but couldn’t find his carriage anywhere. She was about to take out the talisman paper where Qiuyue resided when she suddenly heard the pleasant chirping of a bird of paradise overhead. The Great Monk descended with his robes fluttering, smiling as he apologized: “Sorry, I’m late today, but fortunately you didn’t leave first.”

She pulled five boxes of pastries from the large food container and handed them to him: “One box for you, Happy New Year. Please help me deliver the other four boxes to Xinxie Manor.”

The Great Monk’s eyes lit up with his smile: “Thank you so much, how thoughtful of you to think of me. But if I go to Xinxie Manor to deliver pastries, who will take you to Changgeng Pass?”

Xin Mei thought about it: “How about I ride Qiuyue first, and you catch up after delivering the pastries.”

…Just as he thought! She really was treating him like a coachman plus servant! The Great Monk touched his aching heart, enduring until his face turned pale as vegetables.

“False monk, did something good happen to you today?”

Xin Mei looked at his face and asked casually.

The Great Monk’s eyes flickered slightly as he smiled: “Why do you ask that?”

“You look particularly happy today.”

Although he was usually cheerful and smiling, today… how to put it, it was completely different from usual. There was an indescribable joy emanating from his heart—eyes don’t lie.

He smiled again, placed the food box in the carriage, and said: “Well, after waiting so long, it finally wasn’t in vain. I suppose it counts as great news. But whether it succeeds still depends on heaven’s will.”

What good news exactly? She was a bit curious.

“Although I’m a monk, I’m also a man. A man’s secrets are not told to women.” He jumped onto the long carriage and whistled, and the bird of paradise spread its wings and flew into the sky.

“Go ahead then, I’ll catch up later.”

This person was really mysterious.

Xin Mei rode on Qiuyue’s back, patting its head: “Good Qiuyue, let’s go to Changgeng Pass.”

On the first day of the first lunar month, the repeatedly offending peasant soldiers didn’t come to attack—everyone was probably celebrating the New Year. The usually grim Changgeng Pass was also rarely warm, with soldiers following their respective hometown customs, either making dumplings or preparing eight-treasure rice. The aroma of food covered the ever-present smoke and bloody smell.

Lu Qianqiao sat in the main tent looking at maps, with a box of eight-treasure rice and a steamer of dumplings beside him—gifts from the soldiers.

He took a spoonful of the colorful eight-treasure rice and put it in his mouth—too sweet.

He ate a dumpling—too bland.

He was rarely restless, looking up at the sunlight, estimating there were still one or two hours until dusk, when Xin Mei would come. He was hungry but didn’t want to eat anything, only because she had said she would personally cook for him today.

It seemed like… it had been a long time since he’d tasted her cooking.

He finally understood a hint of what longing felt like, only hoping the sun would hurry and set—he missed her, he wanted to see her earlier. This time, he wanted to try leaping across the cliff to stand beside her and touch her cheek.

The killing intent in his heart had gradually disappeared long ago, and his chest, which used to ache vaguely, hadn’t hurt in a long time.

When she didn’t come, all of Changgeng Pass seemed black and white. The bloody smell no longer made him excited and restless—he wanted… he wanted to truly smell her scent again.

Embracing her seemed like something from a previous life.

He put down the map and picked up the Heavenly Lady that had been sitting on the table, sometimes adjusting her sleeves, sometimes combing her hair, and sometimes taking out a small knife to repair worn and rough spots.

Suddenly there were panicked shouts from soldiers outside the tent, followed by someone lifting the tent flap as Limin, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, walked in with a chill.

“General! He, he forced his way in…”

The guard soldier stammered.

“It’s fine, go out.” Lu Qianqiao put down the doll and stood up.

Limin walked up to him, saw his mismatched red and black eyes, his expression both surprised and complex, and immediately put his hands together to bow: “Young Master! You truly inherited Madam’s noble bloodline!”

Lu Qianqiao didn’t look at him, only asked with a face dark as water: “What is it?”

“Madam has long known about Young Master’s situation. Due to the Fox clan’s frequent provocations recently, she didn’t dare leave the clan rashly. Today there’s finally an opening—she’s waiting for you at the top of Lishan Mountain ten li away.”

Lu Qianqiao still didn’t look at him: “I won’t return to the clan.”

Limin wasn’t anxious either: “Madam instructed that although she would very much like to see Young Master maintain your rationality and not kill your beloved, she also wouldn’t mind personally taking action to solve these troubles for Young Master.”

He finally turned around, his ice-thin eyes meeting Limin’s. Limin’s heart shuddered and he involuntarily stepped back, lowering his head, not daring to offend.

“She… killed Father, and now wants to use Xin Mei to threaten me?” Lu Qianqiao reached out, took the black long whip from the couch, turned and walked out of the tent. “I can go see her. If you don’t want to die, don’t follow.”

…Were this mother and son destined to fight each other after all?

Limin silently watched him walk away, paused, then followed, not daring to go in the same direction, retreating to wait on the eastern hilltop.