Yin Qing nodded slightly, “I never intended to stir up such waves in court. As long as you haven’t reached Shuzhou, this matter cannot be revealed in court. If His Majesty were to learn of it, with his thunderous methods, he would certainly not allow you to remain alive in this world.”

A light flashed in her eyes, disappearing just as quickly, and she said softly, “Indeed.”

Outside, the edge of the sky was turning white, the morning light gently swept across the window lattice, and the occasional sound of birds chirping could be heard.

Meng Tinghui rose, reached out to pinch out the slender flame of the candle, and said, “It’s getting late. I fear people from the Ministry will be searching for me everywhere. I’ll take my leave first.”

Yin Qing gazed at her, and after a long while, picked up her brush again and spread out a fresh sheet of paper.

Outside, the morning wind was bitterly cold, the distant sky a jumble of blue-white clouds and mist. Half a silver moon had not yet faded, still hanging at an angle by the corner of the palace hall.

As she walked, her entire body couldn’t stop shivering with cold.

Her feet seemed to be on soft clouds, each step into emptiness, as if one careless moment would cause her to fall.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t shocked or doubtful, but that shock and doubt were useless now.

Since childhood, she had wanted to know who her parents were, but never imagined that one day a deep blood feud would descend upon her from the heavens.

She couldn’t be certain that this was truly her identity, but whether she confirmed it or not no longer mattered.

The hatred of a fallen country, the vengeance for a destroyed family—those silver spears and clusters of sharp arrows had formed an all-encompassing net that precisely enveloped her, making it impossible to escape.

The reason those tens of thousands of survivors from the previous dynasty gathered in the North was simply because of her title as an heir to the former imperial line.

Whether it was true or not was not for her to decide at this point.

But in this world, what right or wrong, love or hate could ever be settled with a single word?

She had her loneliness; in the quiet of the deep night, she always longed to nestle against her parents like other children, to absorb that bit of warmth.

But the most deeply etched warmth in her life was from that night years ago, the strong and broad embrace of that young man.

…”If my life can save the people, I shall not begrudge it.”

How many people in the northern borderlands had been separated from their spouses and children due to the beacon fires and bandits? And how many children, just like her in those years, had permanently lost their parents with no one left to rely on? Was it truly worth sacrificing the joys and sorrows of countless common people just to avenge the fall of a country and the destruction of a family?

His royal father had executed her parents and her clan, yet because of that warm embrace in her youth, she had fallen hopelessly in love with him.

Willingly prostrating herself at his feet, giving to him without thought of return, no matter what she did or how she did it, she would never have any regrets.

Even if someday she had to die for him, she would not regret it.

How ironic it was.

That night by the snowy mountain hot spring, his words had cut to the bone, and now they echoed relentlessly in her ears in the early summer breeze.

…”If I were to fall in love, heaven and earth bear witness, with the realm and all under heaven as proof.”

In a trance, she recalled what Shen Zhili had said earlier that night—how cold-hearted His Majesty was, how personal feelings had never been enough to disrupt affairs of state.

She wondered, in this time of great chaos, if he were to learn of her background, would he choose his realm and all under heaven, or would he choose her?

Her heart felt numb.

He was her enlightened ruler, and more importantly, the enlightened ruler of all the common people. She did not wish to compete with the realm and all under heaven for him.

Before, she had been willing to do anything for him and his realm.

But this realm also belonged to countless common people. If she were to consider their welfare now, how could she not willingly make this sacrifice for him once more?

…If her life could save the people, she would not begrudge it either.

Just as the golden sunlight burst through the gaps in the clouds, she arrived at the steps of the Ruisi Hall.

The palace attendants waiting outside saw her approach and hurried over to greet her respectfully.

She asked, “Has His Majesty risen yet?”

The attendant lowered her head and replied, “His Majesty has not slept all night, and no one dared to disturb him.”

She nodded, and without asking anyone to announce her, she ascended the stairs directly to knock on the hall doors, saying from outside, “Your subject Meng Tinghui requests an audience with Your Majesty.”

There was no response from inside for a long time, so she simply pushed open the doors and entered.

He was reclining on a low couch beside the imperial desk, holding a memorial in his hand, but his eyes were slightly closed, his brow showing signs of fatigue.

The sound of her closing the door was rather loud, immediately alerting him.

When his eyes fell upon her smiling face in the morning sun, the deep creases between his brows smoothed somewhat, and he said in a low voice, “Entering the imperial presence without announcement—who gave you such audacity?”

She walked toward him, slightly pursing her lips, and then directly knelt before him, bowing her head and saying, “Your Majesty, your subject wishes to go as an envoy to the northern border for peace negotiations.”

He studied her intently, then barked, “Get out!”

She remained motionless, saying softly, “If Your Majesty will not permit your subject to go, then your subject will remain kneeling.”

He suddenly sat upright, his entire being radiating anger, and coldly said, “Meng Tinghui, do not force my hand.”

“Your subject is not forcing Your Majesty,” she raised her eyes to look at him, her gaze clear and pure. “At present, to pacify the northern territory, we must temporarily postpone northern affairs to eliminate the bandits. For the sake of the country and the people, the court must send a civil official as an envoy to the northern border. As a member of the Two Departments, how could I hold the position but not fulfill its duties? Minister Gu and General Fang’s words are correct—there is no other civil official at court more suitable than your subject to serve as an envoy to the northern border of Chao’an. Your Majesty’s refusal of this proposal is simply out of fear for your subject’s safety in the northern territories. But the Jin Gorge Pass is now controlled by our army; if your subject reaches the military camp, General Di will certainly protect your subject both internally and externally. It’s merely a matter of negotiating peace with the northern Jian envoy—what could happen? Please allow your subject to go to the northern border for two or three months. Once the bandit threat subsides, your subject will immediately return to the capital.”

His words were like a blade: “Absolutely impossible.”

She knelt properly and said, “Your Majesty, your subject wishes to remain by Your Majesty’s side for a lifetime, but must achieve meritorious service to do so. If this journey to the northern border can accomplish great things, then in the future, no one at court will dare speak ill of your subject, and your subject will have the qualifications to enter the Hall of Political Affairs, without causing Your Majesty any further difficulty.”

His rigid expression changed slightly when he heard the words “lifetime,” but he pressed his lips together and said nothing.

She gazed at him tenderly, thought for a moment, and continued, “Your subject once told Your Majesty that I hoped no more children would lose their parents and be left alone and suffering. Does Your Majesty still remember? The innocent people affected by the Northern war are so numerous. If the common people suffer, Your Majesty’s heart will not be at ease either. If your subject’s mission to the northern border succeeds, it will surely help end the war sooner. Why must Your Majesty be so fixated on the safety of your subject alone and not let your subject go?”

His gaze gradually changed. She knew he cared deeply for the common people, so she said nothing more, quietly waiting for his reaction.

After a long while, he closed his eyes briefly and said softly, “Meng Tinghui, have I not been good enough to you?”

The tip of her nose stung, but she held back her emotions and said, “It is your subject who does not know what is good.”

He leaned forward, pulled her up into his embrace, and pressed his thin lips against her forehead. “Since you are so determined to go, I will permit it.”

His embrace was as warm as always, so warm that it made her tremble to her very bones.

She also held him tightly, slightly choked with emotion: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He carried her up and walked toward the inner chamber, knocking over several things along the way without caring, laid her down on the bed with his arm, pulled down the imperial curtains, and turned to hold her in his embrace, with such force that she could barely breathe.

She felt as if her bones would be crushed by him, yet she still molded herself against him with the same intensity, wishing she could embed herself into his body.

Suddenly, he whispered hoarsely in her ear, “Meng Tinghui, you still owe me one thing.”

She remembered that he must be referring to the promise from his birthday night, and smiled slightly, “Has Your Majesty decided what to claim from your subject?”

He nodded slightly, his large hands firmly pressing against her back, as if afraid she might retreat or flee. His low voice penetrated deep into her heart: “Give me a child.”

Her whole body trembled, and her breath caught.

It seemed like an eternity before she realized what he had said to her. A bitter, sour tide rose in her heart, drowning her completely in its bitterness. Finally, she said, “Very well. When your subject returns from the northern border, I will fulfill Your Majesty’s wish.”

He lowered his head and gently pecked her lips, saying hoarsely, “You must not deceive your emperor.”

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, yet her lips curved into a smile as she said, “Even with the greatest courage in the world, your subject would not dare to deceive Your Majesty by even half a word.”