While Shen Qingwu and Yang Su peered anxiously through the wooden door, worrying, Zhang Xingjian, seated against the earthen wall on straw inside the temple, was also weighing the current situation.

With the young emperor attacked, the court and public in Dongjing were bound to descend into chaos.

But that was fine—Zhang Xingjian had already anticipated a bad outcome like this. He’d known for a long time that the Imperial Princess had a plan; he simply hadn’t known, until now, what that plan actually was.

Looking at it now, this hardly seemed like something Li Linggo would do.

Li Linggo worked in roundabout ways, seeking a good reputation, seeking legitimacy above all. A mad scheme like assassinating the young emperor seemed more like the kind of thing done by someone who didn’t care about her reputation at all.

A month ago, Zhang Xingjian had already known that Shen Qingwu’s group had arrived in Dongjing.

The paired gu proved especially useful at times like this.

He had waited patiently, hoping Shen Qingwu would come see him, so they could discuss things together. He never got that chance, and he’d had no choice but to begin preparing for the worst outcome—Shen Qingwu would inevitably carry out some mad plan, and Zhang Xingjian had to at least ensure she didn’t fall into the court’s hands.

Zhang Xingjian had already done everything within his power to warn the young emperor.

The young emperor still didn’t trust him, insisted on marrying Shen Qingye—there was nothing Zhang Xingjian could do about that. And now, Zhang Xingjian had to admit something to himself—

Did he truly, deeply want to protect the young emperor from harm?

Not really.

Though he’d done everything within his power to warn him, he hadn’t given it his all.

Because Zhang Xingjian himself was torn: was a ruler this incompetent even worth supporting?

An incompetent ruler running wild, and a woman scheming with all her might to usurp the throne… what Zhang Xingjian thought about was how to minimize the harm to the people of Great Zhou, how to resolve everything by the gentlest means possible.

He didn’t care who became emperor.

What he cared about was what kind of future the country would face.

What kind of future the common people could accept; what kind of future they could not bear.

What Zhang Xingjian kept weighing was the cost of stopping the Imperial Princess—if he stopped her, would it spark an even greater war? If he didn’t stop her, was the Imperial Princess just as unlearned and incapable as Li Mingshu, and what benefit could Zhang Xingjian extract for Great Zhou from the situation either way?

And then there was the matter of the succession, the question of gender, the matter of the harem, the matter of imperial heirs… the impact an ambitious woman would have on the realm was hardly so simple!

The one holding the pieces treated the realm as a chessboard, but the realm was never merely a single game.

The victory Zhang Xingjian sought had never been the kind of victory Li Linggo and Li Mingshu were fighting over.

He had studied since childhood, trained himself in every skill since childhood… to become nothing more than a tool of ambition and power would be far too great a waste.

Zhang Xingjian had always wanted to become a true moon.

Unaffected by the sun, indifferent to its own blazing brilliance. Moonlight fell on clear, limpid lakes, and it fell equally on the muddy swamps in forgotten corners—

Torn between Li Mingshu and Li Linggo, Zhang Xingjian’s thoughts also turned to whether, if the young emperor died, he ought to prop up some other legitimate new emperor to oppose the Imperial Princess.

He hadn’t made up his mind.

He decided to wait and see a while longer.

With the young emperor attacked, the entire court would at least have witnessed Zhang Xingjian’s efforts to keep the new empress away from the young emperor. With Shen Qingwu and Zhang Xingjian both vanishing at the same time, the talk at court, by all rights, should be that “Shen Qingwu had kidnapped the utterly loyal Chancellor Zhang.”

The ministers, each fearing for themselves, would have their priorities in order: first, save the young emperor; second, hunt down Shen Qingwu. Only third would come rescuing the chancellor.

That Zhang Xingjian had been taken out of Dongjing was, even to himself, unexpected. But it wasn’t entirely a bad thing either… being outside Dongjing gave him the chance to observe more, to deliberate further.

As for whatever happened back in Dongjing—if anything truly went wrong, it should still be manageable.

After all, Zhang Xingjian, just in case, had already instructed Chang Lin—if the Zhang family ever faced a dire crisis, if things reached a desperate point, Chang Lin could go to where Bo Rong was being held and ask his advice.

Short of the final, most desperate moment, Zhang Xingjian would never allow the entire court to be led around by the nose by Bo Rong, handing the government over to the Imperial Princess—

Zhang Xingjian opened his eyes, and caught sight of two heads quickly vanishing from the window.

He fell silent.

He knew Shen Qingwu had been avoiding him this whole time, wavering over whether to send him back because of the risk it posed; and now, it seemed, this temple had gained one more occupant—a companion of Shen Qingwu’s.

Shen Qingwu was discussing plans with that person, but not with him.

Was it because she didn’t trust him? Or was it because the companion Shen Qingwu had been waiting for was someone she was especially fond of?

Whoever had followed Shen Qingwu to Dongjing, risking life and limb alongside her, must be a man—a man on good terms with her… Zhang Xingjian’s eyes dimmed slightly, and he looked down at the ceremonial robe he still hadn’t had the chance to change out of, with a touch of self-mockery.

Zhang Xingjian said softly: “General Shen, General Yang—I imagine the two of you have had a good enough look by now. Would you care to come out so we can talk?”

Shen Qingwu, who had shifted from the door to the window, heard the man’s clear, elegant voice inside and told Yang Su: “Every time he says ‘let’s talk,’ he’s about to start scheming. We need to be careful.”

Yang Su gazed at Shen Qingwu with a strange, admiring look.

They heard Zhang Xingjian’s calm, cool voice: “General Shen, I can hear you.”

Shen Qingwu brushed aside the loose strands of hair sticking to her cheek, putting on an air of indifference.

She felt a little uneasy inside.

Shen Qingwu and Yang Su bolstered each other’s courage, and went to meet this endlessly scheming Zhang San Lang.

Zhang Xingjian watched the two of them stand together at the doorway, arms crossed, one on each side, like a pair of temple guardian statues.

Zhang Xingjian said nothing for a moment.

Shen Qingwu’s tone was cold: “What is it you want to discuss?”

Zhang Xingjian said slowly: “For the rest of the journey, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you both to travel with me. If you intend to leave the north and cross the river back to Yizhou, you’ll need my help to manage it.”

He reminded them: “If I don’t give my consent, I guarantee you’ll be able to reach Dongjing, but you won’t be able to get back to Yizhou.”

Shen Qingwu and Yang Su both tensed.

Yang Su straightened up: “You know our plan?”

Zhang Xingjian smiled faintly. “I don’t. I’m simply reasoning it out from common sense. I can let the two of you get to Dongjing, because I too have certain aims I’d rather not reveal just yet…”

He didn’t want to tell them about his own hesitation over supporting the young emperor’s rule.

But fearing Shen Qingwu might misunderstand him, he added: “My considerations have nothing to do with you, and pose no harm to you either.”

Zhang Xingjian went on: “I’ve been considering, for some time now, whether to open a dialogue with the Imperial Princess, but being stationed in Dongjing, it’s simply not convenient for me. For now, though, before you leave the Central Plains, you won’t be able to reach the Imperial Princess, and I have no way to speak with her either. What I ask is this—take me with you out of the Central Plains, and help me carry a message to the Imperial Princess.”

Yang Su frowned.

Yang Su thought to himself: we can’t reach the Imperial Princess? But before…

Zhang Xingjian said evenly: “Before, that was only to lower your guard. Once you entered Dongjing, it was always my intention that you’d be unable to contact the Imperial Princess.”

He continued, mild as ever: “With the young emperor attacked, the Imperial Princess will surely be waiting for word from you. She might even want to launch a war, to seize Dongjing while it’s at its weakest. Please, General Yang, when the time comes, carry a message to the Imperial Princess for me—

“She must not start a war.

“If she goes to war, I guarantee the fighting will be brutal, and the consequences will be more than she can bear. Whatever it is she wants, let her come discuss it with me. I’m willing to negotiate in good faith, so long as she does the same.”

Zhang Xingjian nodded. “That’s roughly all I have to say. Once you’re out of the Central Plains, you’ll be able to reach her again—at that point, please have General Yang stop the Imperial Princess’s war plans. Ask her to give me three months. After three months, I’ll give her my answer.”

Yang Su glanced at Shen Qingwu.

Yang Su’s look silently asked: are we about to go to war? The Imperial Princess has a war plan? Why don’t I know about this?

Shen Qingwu didn’t know either.

Shen Qingwu said nothing.

But on matters of this kind, of scheming and strategy… Shen Qingwu said to Yang Su: “Do as he says. He’s never been wrong about things like this.”

Yang Su didn’t trust Zhang Xingjian, but he trusted Shen Qingwu.

Yang Su nodded silently.

But Yang Su couldn’t help asking Zhang Xingjian: “You really cut off everyone’s means of contact—you can’t reach Dongjing, and we can’t reach the Imperial Princess either? What’s going on in that head of yours? A’Wu said you saved her… you’re not still hung up on old feelings for our A’Wu, are you?”

Shen Qingwu kicked Yang Su.

Shen Qingwu, without so much as a glance at Zhang Xingjian, dragged Yang Su out of the room.

Zhang Xingjian heard Shen Qingwu scolding Yang Su as they left: “Don’t talk to him so much, it makes you look like an idiot.”

Yang Su’s voice faded as they walked away: “I was just curious how the minds of clever people like him work… A’Wu, how’s your injury? Are you doing alright?”

Zhang Xingjian heard Shen Qingwu cough twice.

But he didn’t catch what she said in reply.

Zhang Xingjian sat quietly in the now-silent ruined temple, letting the darkness fall and swallow him without protest.

He showed nothing at all—

The next day, Yang Su tossed a set of coarse clothing at Zhang Xingjian.

The kind of scholar’s robe worn by a poor student in some small town—on Zhang Xingjian, it showed none of the poverty or awkwardness one might expect, and instead lent him an air of refined, upright elegance.

Yang Su had originally meant the coarse clothes as an insult, but seeing Zhang Xingjian’s composed bearing after calmly changing into them, his lips moved without quite forming words. He found himself understanding Shen Qingwu a little better now:

if he himself had been a woman, seeing Zhang Xingjian like this, he might not be able to walk away either.

They couldn’t stay in the temple any longer.

According to Zhang Xingjian, the court’s soldiers would soon catch up with them. The court would never let go of whoever had assassinated the young emperor, or whoever had abducted the chancellor.

Yang Su wanted to regroup with the rest of their brothers, which meant traveling farther, and finding a stretch with fewer court soldiers, before they’d have any real chance of reuniting.

Yang Su couldn’t help asking Zhang Xingjian how many pursuers there might be.

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “I don’t know.”

He glanced at Shen Qingwu ahead of them, leaning on a walking stick, never once looking back, and said quietly: “Plans shouldn’t be made too rigidly—you have to leave room for others to improvise. That’s a lesson I’ve learned… how many pursuers you’ll face depends on the judgment of the ministers at court. I didn’t arrange that part in advance.”

Yang Su nodded.

Yang Su quickened his pace, catching up to Shen Qingwu.

Without the slightest hesitation, Yang Su threw an arm around Shen Qingwu’s shoulders, and gave her wrist a squeeze.

Yang Su said, “Are you doing alright?”

Zhang Xingjian watched them.

Zhang Xingjian asked softly: “General Shen… are you injured?”

Shen Qingwu’s spine snapped straight at once.

She glanced back at him. “That’s none of your business. Whether I’m injured or not doesn’t affect my ability to fight.”

Yang Su looked up at the sky.

Zhang Xingjian fell silent after that—

They spent the entire day walking mountain paths to avoid the authorities.

Their pace was slow, though whether that was out of consideration for Zhang Xingjian, the weakest fighter among them, or because Shen Qingwu’s injuries were genuinely severe, was unclear.

In any case… Yang Su walked ahead with Shen Qingwu the whole time, murmuring together, while Zhang Xingjian followed quietly behind them.

They weren’t even worried he might run off.

Zhang Xingjian thought, to Shen Qingwu these days, he was nothing but a nuisance; she was probably hoping he’d just run off and stop lingering under her nose.

Shen Qingwu’s attitude toward him had truly changed from before.

In the past, the moment she caught sight of him, she’d behave like a puppy spotting a meaty bone—even if she had no intention of eating it, she’d still come sniff at it, lick at it, pace around him, staking her claim; but now she went out of her way to avoid all contact with him, staying close to Yang Su, murmuring with him constantly, never once glancing at Zhang Xingjian.

Zhang Xingjian remembered that he’d known she’d come to Dongjing well before this.

He’d withdrawn the Zhang estate’s guards, foolishly hoping she might come see him—even just to look, without any intention of speaking to him.

But he hadn’t even gotten that much.

And truthfully, Zhang Xingjian himself didn’t know how to face Shen Qingwu either.

Seeing her filled his heart with joy, made him want to talk to her, want to draw close to her; but Yang Su was always right there beside her.

He wanted to ask where she was hurt, how badly, whether he could take a look; but Shen Qingwu would surely refuse, would surely stay on guard.

Seeing her together with Yang Su also left him unhappy.

But all he could do was watch—he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what he could possibly do to please her, to keep her from resenting him.

If she preferred being with Yang Su… then so be it—

At noon, the three of them fished by a mountain lake for lunch.

In truth, only Yang Su was doing any actual fishing.

Zhang Xingjian crouched alone beside a pile of dry firewood, working out how to build a fire, while Yang Su, trousers and sleeves rolled up, waded into the stream, and Shen Qingwu sat on a rock beside him, watching him fish.

Shen Qingwu snuck a glance at Zhang Xingjian, whose back was turned to them.

Shen Qingwu said, “Yang Su, don’t you think Zhang Yuelu’s being strange?”

Yang Su, focused on finding fish, said, “Strange how?”

Shen Qingwu said, “He’s barely said a word the whole way, hasn’t offered a single opinion. Wherever we go, he just follows along. Aside from bringing up wanting to contact the Imperial Princess at the start… he hasn’t made a single demand of us.

“And now he’s over there building a fire.”

Yang Su said, “That just proves you really did have good taste back then—a man with a temper that good, willing to endure any hardship, is hard to come by.”

Shen Qingwu said, “That’s not what I mean. I mean… he keeps watching us.”

Yang Su turned around.

The fire was already lit, and a rack for grilling fish had already been set up, waiting only for them to catch something.

Zhang Xingjian sat by the fire, quietly watching them chat and laugh together over there. He neither came closer nor moved away—he simply watched.

Yang Su couldn’t see anything unusual: “…A’Wu, stop being so paranoid. Sure, Zhang San Lang’s smarter than the two of us, but I don’t think he’s some kind of monster. Just because he’s not talking doesn’t mean he’s plotting to wipe us both out in one stroke.

“Besides, what good would killing us do him? The Imperial Princess’s generals aren’t just the two of us. And come to think of it, you’re his old flame, aren’t you? You think he feels nothing for you at all? I don’t believe that.”

Shen Qingwu felt a flicker of irritation.

She felt Yang Su completely failed to understand what she was talking about.

What she meant was—Zhang Xingjian just sat there, unmoving, watching them the entire time, from the moment they set out to now, resting. And yet he never said a single word!

He wasn’t even paying attention to her…

Not that she thought he needed to pay attention to her. It was just that it felt strange—

Back when she and Zhang Xingjian had gotten along best, there had always been a smile in his eyes, whether he was joking around or chatting idly with her; he’d always been so glib, so eloquent, and before long, he’d have coaxed her into agreeing to whatever it was he wanted.

But now Zhang Xingjian did nothing at all!

She and Yang Su kept talking the whole time, and he never made a sound. When she laughed happily at something Yang Su said, she’d catch, out of the corner of her eye, Zhang Xingjian watching her. The moment she turned to look at him, he’d look away.

…What was he even trying to do?

Yang Su listened absentmindedly for a long while and still didn’t understand what was troubling Shen Qingwu. Shen Qingwu had never been good with words, and the only person who’d ever been able to understand exactly what she meant had always been Zhang Xingjian.

Shen Qingwu gave up, deflated.

She got so worked up she coughed, and had to press a hand to her chest to suppress the sharp pain in it.

Yang Su asked immediately: “Are you alright?”

Shen Qingwu coughed violently, her vision swimming, and for a long moment couldn’t answer him.

Yang Su waded to shore and bent down to pat her back, saying with frustration: “You shouldn’t have come to Dongjing with me in the first place. Hurt this badly and still pushing yourself so hard—who knows what you went through in there…”

Shen Qingwu shook with pain, wondering if her wound had started bleeding again.

Yang Su kept patting her back, saying: “Why not just marry me already, and stop putting yourself through all this? Tell me, what about my background or my looks isn’t good enough for you? We’ve had years of friendship between us, as solid as gold—what more is there to hesitate over?”

Shen Qingwu ignored his recurring proposals of marriage, as she always did.

Through the gap in Yang Su’s arm, which kept blocking her view, she snuck a glance at Zhang Xingjian.

Not far off, Zhang Xingjian was watching them.

The stream babbled on, and Yang Su chattered without pause.

At this close a distance, Shen Qingwu didn’t believe Zhang Xingjian hadn’t heard Yang Su say the word “marry.”

But Zhang Xingjian showed no reaction at all.

He listened calmly to all of it, not even shifting his posture by the fire. When he noticed her gaze, he smiled faintly, then looked away again as though nothing had happened.

…He was too strange.

If he didn’t care, then he shouldn’t be watching her so constantly; if he did care, then he shouldn’t be so consistently silent about it.

What did Zhang Xingjian actually want?

Shen Qingwu suddenly recalled the idea Zhang Xingjian had once mentioned to her, about “coming at midnight and leaving before dawn,” about being kept as a mistress on the side… her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly forced herself not to think about it.

Zhang Xingjian surely wasn’t hoping to be kept as her mistress on the side.

There had to be something wrong with Zhang Xingjian’s head.

Perhaps… she’d provoked him too much, and something in him had come loose.

Shen Qingwu frowned, pressing her lips together, utterly unable to work it out.

But thinking about it was exhausting.

Shen Qingwu soon gave up trying—

On the second day of their journey together, it began raining from the moment the sky grew light.

Shen Qingwu and Yang Su emerged from the abandoned, uninhabited doorway where they’d taken shelter for the night, and saw Zhang Xingjian standing before the blue-tiled eaves, gazing up at the falling rain.

Zhang Xingjian turned and smiled at them. “It’s raining.”

Shen Qingwu and Yang Su exchanged a glance, both equally baffled.

Yang Su, considering Zhang Xingjian’s pampered habits, said kindly: “Why don’t we rest a day?”

Shen Qingwu said coldly: “Every extra day we rest is another day of added danger. Zhang Yuelu’s arrangements for hunting us down are unlikely to have many gaps—for someone so ruthless and cold-blooded, we have to be extraordinarily careful.”

Yang Su looked embarrassed.

He nudged Shen Qingwu and wiggled his eyebrows: Zhang Xingjian was right there, and she was calling him ruthless and cold-blooded to his face?

Shen Qingwu shot a look at the spineless Yang Su.

Zhang Xingjian, watching the two of them exchanging meaningful glances from the moment the sky brightened, silently communicating right in front of him, didn’t care to watch any longer. He turned his face away, continuing to gaze at the rain beyond.

Zhang Xingjian thought to himself that Shen Qingwu had once been unable to read other people’s silent cues at all.

He had taught her so much of that… and she had put every bit of it to use in her exchanges with other people.

The way of the world truly was interesting.

Zhang Xingjian smiled faintly.

Shen Qingwu noticed his light, faint smile, tinged with something almost sorrowful. He kept watching the rain outside, never speaking to either of them—was it that he simply looked down on her and Yang Su?

Shen Qingwu couldn’t help asking: “What exactly are you brooding over?”

Zhang Xingjian was quiet for a long moment before realizing Shen Qingwu wasn’t speaking to Yang Su, but addressing him directly.

He looked at her, startled.

His eyes, suddenly bright, were like stars fallen into a lake, rippling with scattered, glimmering light… such beautiful eyes that Shen Qingwu, rather unsettled, looked away.

Zhang Xingjian said gently: “I was wondering whether, with the rain growing heavier today, there might be thunder.”

Shen Qingwu didn’t understand. “What about thunder?”

She guessed at his meaning with ill intent: “Have you done so many wicked things that you’re afraid of being struck by lightning? You never used to…”

…he never used to have this problem, did he?

Zhang Xingjian smiled.

At that moment, a peal of thunder rumbled at the edge of the sky.

A cold flash of light lit the dim steps before the doorway.

Shen Qingwu saw Zhang Xingjian’s face drain of color in an instant, turning pale as paper. His body seemed to tremble too, his lashes contracting slightly.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved in a smile. “If the lightning really did strike me down, that would be for the best.”

Shen Qingwu said, “…What are you talking about?”

She couldn’t help stepping forward: “With me here… no, with Yang Su here, we’ll protect you and keep you safe no matter what. Are you afraid of our pursuers, or afraid of the danger of traveling in the rain? Aren’t you the chancellor of Great Zhou—even if the enemy catches up, it’s me and Yang Su they mean to kill, it has nothing to do with you at all.

“You—you need to take care of yourself. At a critical moment, I might even need to use you as a shield against a blade—you’re the chancellor, after all, they wouldn’t dare kill you.”

Yang Su nearly fainted.

Yang Su thought she truly had no idea how to talk to people.

Yang Su was about to step in and clarify that Shen Qingwu would certainly never actually use Zhang Xingjian as a human shield, when Zhang Xingjian laughed once and said: “Very well, I’ll do my best to stay in good health, so I can shield you both from harm.”

Shen Qingwu: “…”

Even she felt, this time, that she’d said the wrong thing.

Her lashes trembled once, and she glanced at him quickly.

Another peal of thunder rumbled low at the edge of the sky.

Zhang Xingjian’s body swayed, the sleeve hanging at his side twitching slightly. Shen Qingwu saw him take a small step backward, lean against the wall, and steady himself with a hand against it, just barely not collapsing.

Shen Qingwu stared blankly: what on earth was wrong with him?

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “Let’s continue on.”

Yang Su asked worriedly: “Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

Zhang Xingjian looked at the silent Shen Qingwu: “It’s fine. If we really do run into your pursuers, you can simply hand me over—wasn’t General Shen already looking to be rid of me?”

Shen Qingwu and Yang Su exchanged a glance.

Zhang Xingjian was the first to step outside, opening an umbrella, and the other two had no choice but to follow—

The three of them traveled on, and in the rain, aside from the official road, everywhere was muddy ground, making for difficult walking.

But it was Zhang Xingjian whose condition was worse.

Shen Qingwu herself was injured, and the rain made her wound ache more, but she felt she could bear it. Along the way, she kept glancing at Zhang Xingjian—every time thunder rumbled at the horizon, his condition grew a little worse, his face a little paler.

He couldn’t even eat at midday.

While she and Yang Su rested, she hesitated, then brought some rations to find Zhang Xingjian, only to see him doubled over against a wall, one hand pressed to his chest, the veins on his forehead trembling constantly.

His face was covered in moisture—not rainwater, but cold sweat.

Shen Qingwu grabbed his wrist at once.

Alarmed, she said: “Is it the gu acting up?”

—But how could that be possible?

She—wasn’t she right here? As long as the child gu and mother gu were together, shouldn’t it not act up at all? Unless that unreliable girl from the Miao borderlands had added some new problem to Zhang Xingjian’s condition…

It should have been cured!

Zhang Xingjian, surfacing from a wave of pain, heard the rain trickling into streams at the wall’s base, felt Shen Qingwu crouched beside him, her damp hair falling against his wrist.

His wrist was held in her grip.

All of it felt like a dream.

Zhang Xingjian sank quietly into this fantasy.

But it wasn’t a dream—Shen Qingwu looked up, her jet-black eyes searching his face in confusion: “Your pulse is a little erratic, but there’s no buildup of poison at all… the gu shouldn’t be able to act up. Why do you look like you’re in so much pain?”

Zhang Xingjian looked at her.

Zhang Xingjian murmured, “Do you care?”

Shen Qingwu frowned.

What did that mean?

Fortunately, Zhang Xingjian seemed to have said it unconsciously, and quickly tried to take it back: “Forget what I just said. What I meant to say was—you could try guessing why I’m in so much pain.”

Shen Qingwu said: “Zhang Yuelu!”

…who had the patience for riddles at a time like this?

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved.

There was a trace of amusement in them.

These past two days, there had been no trace of humor in his eyes at all, but now, with Yang Su elsewhere, with her crouched beside him, looking at him, worrying over him… even through the sharp pain, something like fondness stirred in his heart.

Zhang Xingjian smiled, eyes curving: “Guess why I’m in such pain—the answer might just satisfy you.”

Shen Qingwu was bewildered.

A muffled clap of thunder broke overhead, and his face went white again. She was close enough to see the fear that flickered through his eyes in that instant, the veins on his forehead pulsing almost violently…

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes stayed curved.

Shen Qingwu stared at him, unable to believe it.

She refused to believe it, refused to believe she could possibly have guessed the answer. So she kept her grip on his wrist, watching him break out in cold sweat from the pain, and waited, coldly.

A second peal of thunder rang out.

Though the thunder was impossibly far away, it seemed to explode right beside their ears.

Zhang Xingjian’s whole body swayed and tipped sideways. Unable to help herself, she moved forward and caught him in her arms, his face pressing into the curve of her neck, his wet hair tangling with hers.

Zhang Xingjian whispered against her ear: “Struck by heaven’s thunder.”

Shen Qingwu stared blankly at the sky, holding him without moving.

Zhang Xingjian said softly: “From that day on, I couldn’t bear the sound of thunder anymore. From that moment on, I’ve carried this affliction of the heart—do you need a bolt of lightning to strike me dead before you’ll be satisfied, before I can make up for my wrongs?

“My parasol tree…”

His whole body was soaked in cold sweat as he buried himself against her. He’d meant to keep his composure, to stay calm and detached, but with her right there beside him, and the thunder so vicious and near, he found he couldn’t.

Trembling, he raised a hand and wrapped it around her waist.

Zhang Xingjian’s breath came shallow, murmuring against her neck: “My parasol tree, it hurts so much… would you hold me, just for a moment?”—

In the nineteenth year of Tianlong, Shen Qingwu had sworn her love on a vow of being struck by heaven’s thunder.

She had never feared thunder.

In the twenty-sixth year of Tianlong, Zhang Xingjian had developed a lasting affliction of the heart because of it.

The thunder she had never feared had begun tormenting him instead—

He—he… he had actually started crying and carrying on like this.

How could there possibly be a man with this many problems in the world!

He was in so much pain, murmuring against her the whole time, almost as if he were pleading for comfort… what was she supposed to do!

Yang Su, help!