Night gave way to dawn, the sky’s light filtered through grey clouds, and a bitter cold wind cut to the bone. After the old Emperor spoke those words, he sat in his sedan chair and closed his eyes. Several generals went to report to the old Emperor about the situation in Jianye, while Prince Chen Liu Shu remained where he was, his expression rigid as he turned to look at Prince Henyang Liu Mu, who was surrounded by subordinates.

Though surrounded by concerned followers and covered in wounds both large and small, the youth remained unconcerned and, unusually, in very good spirits. He believed his relationship with his brother had been mended, believed that the imperial brother who had once cherished him had returned… Liu Shu watched him laugh so carefreely, and his heart wrenched again.

Liu Shu knew how heartless the Emperor could be. This Emperor had sacrificed too many things for the throne in those years, and emotions were a luxury to him. Having finally become Emperor, he naturally wanted to enjoy everything he had previously coveted, thus his extravagance, luxury, fondness for women, and pursuit of immortality. But uniquely, he cared nothing for emotions and naturally cared even less for Liu Mu.

…A dignified prince who had just rescued the Emperor from enemy hands, and his reward was to be killed because the Emperor feared his embarrassing situation would become known?

“Father Emperor, Father Emperor—”

As Prince Chen stood silent like a statue, Liu Mu noticed Liu Shu’s subtle gaze, and across the crowd, the youth looked over, his eyes showing innocent questioning. Liu Shu stood motionless, with large armies on his side and control of the entire Sima Temple. But the order to kill Liu Mu was too difficult to carry out.

It was too worthless.

As the captives were being held and the northerners surrendering, just as Prince Chen showed slight resistance, more dust rose in the distance, growing closer – Prince Zhao Liu Huai arriving late. Liu Huai tumbled from his horse, falling awkwardly to the ground, his face full of grief and eyes brimming with tears. In the imperial family, whose acting skills were worse than whose? Pushing aside the troublesome Liu Shu, Liu Huai threw himself before the Emperor’s carriage, crying out with seeming sincerity: “Your son was careless, arriving late to save you, please don’t blame me, Father Emperor…”

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” The advisors beside Prince Chen Liu Shu urged their lord. Though their lord had beautiful features, he usually acted decisively – why hadn’t he dealt with Prince Henyang even though Prince Zhao had already arrived?

“What’s wrong?” Liu Mu finally noticed something odd in Liu Shu’s gaze and pushed through the crowd to walk toward his nephew.

Liu Mu thought Liu Shu’s strange look meant he had discovered some other Northern army plot, so he naturally came forward without hesitation. But Liu Shu remained silent while his advisor spoke urgently: “Your Highness, Your Highness!”

—Your Highness, please give the order quickly, don’t forget that Prince Zhao is waiting to clear his name and steal the credit!

But Liu Shu delayed giving the order: while the Northern army watched like tigers and the South desperately needed talent, sacrificing a prince skilled in military command for the Emperor’s personal preferences was too worthless.

“Prince Chen, His Majesty sent me to ask, what’s wrong? Do you have any questions?” A general squeezed next to Prince Chen Liu Shu.

“Whoa—” The thundering of horses approached, the red sun rolling overhead, quickly drawing near. The leading young man dismounted gracefully and came to pay respects to the startled Emperor, followed by his attendants. Seeing Prince Zhao’s evasive glance, his extraordinarily handsome face showed an intrigued expression as he paused briefly.

Then, unhurriedly, Lu Yun glanced at Liu Shu.

Liu Shu tensed. He raised his eyes, his pupils like the cool of midnight after dusk, looking toward Liu Mu opposite him. Under such constant subtle hints in that gaze, Liu Mu finally sensed something and inconspicuously stepped backward.

Liu Shu spoke: “Seize him.”

Those around had been waiting for this order, and as soon as Prince Chen spoke, they pounced like tigers toward Liu Mu and his attendants. Liu Mu’s attendants were shocked, and Liu Mu’s eyes suddenly constricted. He immediately resisted, raising his arm as Liu Mu roared: “Liu Shu—”

But he had only called Liu Shu’s name before he realized, his gaze weak and hollow as he looked incredulously toward the Emperor’s carriage. The rising sunlight stabbed pain into the youth’s eyes, and while his ears seemed to still echo with words about brotherhood being most precious, in reality, his imperial brother had once again raised weapons against him…

Liu Mu mumbled: “Why…”

Liu Shu’s heart felt heavy as he watched the youth initially resist but quickly be pressed down by the soldiers, and forced to kneel. His knees struck the cold, solid earth as the Emperor’s carriage was lifted and the grand procession returned to Jianye. Even Prince Zhao, who had conspired with the northerners, faced no consequences at this moment, while Liu Mu, who had just risked his life to save the Emperor, was now held by the same soldiers he had just fought alongside.

Liu Mu roared: “Why?!”

“What did I do wrong?”

“What do you want from me?!”

Liu Shu turned away his eyes, ordering coldly: “Arrest Prince Henyang. The northerners caused trouble in Jianye, this matter must be thoroughly investigated, we need to detain Prince Henyang for questioning.”

His advisor: “Your Highness!”

His Majesty’s order had been to kill him on the spot, why take these unnecessary steps? These unnecessary steps wouldn’t earn Liu Mu’s gratitude, and would only invite the Emperor’s blame. Why should Your Highness involve yourself in such troublesome imperial family grudges?

Liu Shu didn’t explain. His eyelashes were thick and long, his features rather delicate, but his heart was cold and strong, rarely showing indecision. Once he made a decision, he would carry it through.

Liu Shu was unwilling to kill Prince Henyang. Prince Henyang was a military talent, and the South needed him. Liu Shu was unwilling to kill Prince Henyang just because of one statement from the Emperor.

But with everyone watching, he had no reason to release Prince Henyang on the spot. That would give others something to gossip about and create trouble for himself.

Only by imprisoning him first could he use the excuse of being “unable to turn against him in public” to temporarily placate His Majesty. If Liu Shu didn’t act, someone else would eagerly take over this nasty task. To protect Liu Mu’s life, Liu Shu could only take the matter into his own hands first.

Liu Shu had never feared trouble or avoided dangers; he always considered what was best for the South.

After the order was given, Liu Mu was led away by soldiers, his face pale and dazed. His attendants were furious, cursing loudly, but Prince Chen remained unmoved, letting the insults fall where they may. Prince Chen only looked back once at Third Young Master Lu, who smiled slightly.

These two friends exchanged a glance, and Liu Shu understood he had been set up by Lu Yun—this kind of scene was probably exactly what Lu Yun wanted him to face. To directly witness the Emperor’s cruelty, Prince Zhao’s ambition, Liu Mu’s innocence, and the South’s unstable future.

Liu Shu said nothing, mounting his horse with a cold expression, his heart inevitably holding some resentment toward Lu Yun. Resenting how he could set him up like this? After mounting, the troops followed to return to the city, and as the iron cavalry moved forward, Liu Shu suddenly heard the horse bell sound shift in one direction. He turned his head to see an old man standing breathlessly about ten zhang away to the side.

The old man wore hemp clothes and straw sandals, too exhausted from running, as bedraggled as a fleeing refugee. The old man leaned against a tree catching his breath, with a servant carrying bundles beside him. The old man’s face was full of weathered wrinkles as he watched everything in bewilderment and shock.

He blurted out: “Your Highness—”

Liu Mu’s whole body trembled as he raised his head, his gaze sharp, immediately spotting Master Kong. Master Kong had returned to the capital with him, but being elderly, he couldn’t keep up and had to desperately rush by carriage behind them. Master Kong had finally caught up, only to witness everyone being arrested.

Liu Mu immediately forgot his self-pity and shouted: “Leave—”

His face cold: “I dismissed you, you’ve been monitoring me for the Empress Dowager all these years. I’ve had enough, get out! Don’t let me see you again!”

Master Kong’s body trembled, his clouded eyes contracting as if in pain. He saw the current situation was wrong and stepped back, but being old and frail, he realized he couldn’t escape and had to stop.

Master Kong stepped forward trembling: “Prince Chen, I don’t know how my young master has offended you, he’s young and hot-tempered, doesn’t know when he’s done wrong, please show mercy…”

Liu Mu cursed loudly: “Old fool, who asked for your plea?! Get out, get out, get out, you think I don’t know what you’re up to? Old fool, get out of the way, don’t block the road!”

Master Kong continued pleading with Prince Chen: “Your Highness…”

The old man begged while the youth cursed and swore, both with reddened eyes and trembling bodies. This friendship was so much deeper than his father emperor’s stone heart. Liu Shu watched quietly and said slowly: “Why does this old man block the road? Step aside, don’t delay my return to the city.”

Someone beside him: “Your Highness, he is clearly…”

Liu Shu: “Do I not know this myself, need you remind me?”

Liu Shu was typically cold and spoke little. Because he spoke little, each word carried weight and brooked no argument or dispute. His subordinates had no choice but to make way, watching Prince Chen ride past, knowing they should arrest the old man but had to let him go.

Liu Mu sighed in relief.

As Liu Shu rode past, he heard the youth’s extremely soft: “Thank you.”

Liu Shu’s face suddenly tensed, looking extremely ugly—to commit such an evil deed and receive thanks, what shame!

…

His Majesty the Emperor returned safely to the palace, falling gravely ill upon his return. The old Emperor aged instantly, trembling all day, fearful and suspicious, not daring to take one step from his chambers.

The missing Northern Princess was said to have been killed on the road, with Third Young Master Lu finding a female corpse, but the old Emperor was too disgusted and frightened to even look at it. The old Emperor hid in his chambers cursing the North, denouncing their shamelessness.

Sometimes his gaze would turn strange as he anxiously inquired whether Prince Henyang was still alive, why hadn’t he been killed yet. He paced back and forth in the magnificent gold-inlaid dragon hall, waving his arms neurotically, his gaze peculiar as he muttered: “I am still Emperor! I have done nothing improper! It’s all Liu Mu’s fault!”

Prince Chen was frequently questioned by him, and the way he stared at this son was also very strange.

His attitude toward Prince Zhao was similar—someone had reported that Prince Zhao had cooperated with Northern spies, causing the chaos in Jianye. Prince Zhao hurried to clear himself, angrily denouncing the Northern spies for making false accusations to cause internal strife in the South. Prince Zhao knelt before the Emperor in tears, begging Father Emperor not to believe the rumors of those with ulterior motives. The old Emperor remained half-believing, half-doubting.

The old Emperor: “I hope you are truly innocent.”

Prince Zhao: “It’s all nonsense from those Northern spies, your son has not betrayed the country. Prince Chen… yes, he has always disliked your son, Your Majesty giving him the task of investigating the spies is allowing him to eliminate his opposition. Father Emperor, your son is innocent! You cannot listen to Prince Chen’s one-sided words…”

He anxiously used the old Emperor’s suspicions about Prince Chen Liu Shu to desperately fight against his fate of being dragged into the quagmire by the Northern spies.

The old Emperor indeed grew suspicious of Prince Chen. Mentioning Prince Chen reminded him that Liu Mu was still imprisoned, and still being investigated… What was there to investigate? Liu Mu had been at the border—how much could he know about the chaos in Jianye? Prince Chen’s investigation of Liu Mu was just too delayed!

The old Emperor said disappointedly: “Prince Chen is becoming more and more disobedient.”

He couldn’t understand where the former Liu Shu had gone—the one who would do whatever he said without question, never asking for reasons or making excuses, whose capability had been extremely reassuring. Why over the past year had Liu Shu either been forging imperial edicts or protecting rebels and traitors…

The old Emperor collapsed into his seat, covering his face and muttering like a madman: “Changed, all changed… I am still Emperor!”

Prince Zhao Liu Huai standing below responded: “…”

His eyes contracted as he realized Father Emperor’s mind was becoming confused after this shock. To escape, he would have to find his way. Prince Zhao’s eyes turned cold—Prince Chen was using those Northern spies to suppress him. As long as the entire court forced those spies to their deaths, no one would be able to implicate him.

Thus, when Prince Chen was conducting the investigation, Prince Zhao actively lobbied up and down, trying to persuade the court officials. The officials’ attitudes were ambiguous, having received kindness from the Lu family that night, they were unwilling to offend Lu Yun now. This made Prince Zhao even angrier, and in his desperation, his self-preservation became more aggressive.

Perhaps even he knew this was just the final struggle of a grasshopper after autumn. But so what? If he was going to suffer, Prince Chen wouldn’t be much better off.

…

On a day of heavy rain, water poured from heaven like a flood arriving from the horizon, filling the sky with its tremendous roar.

Without servants attending, Prince Chen Liu Shu sat quietly in a corner window of the study. Before him were brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, with the character for “kill” written starkly on the paper, but he had remained motionless for a long time.

Because his embarrassment had been witnessed, the Emperor wanted to kill Liu Mu. Then after killing Liu Mu, the next to be dealt with would likely be himself. Father Emperor had never cared which of them lived or died—he had too many sons, if one wasn’t suitable, another would do. How chilling.

How could the South’s future be entrusted to such a ruler?

Third Young Master Lu had made him witness this cruel, heartless side of his father firsthand—if he didn’t resist, he would be the next to die… Lu Yun was forcing him…

Liu Shu closed his eyes, muttering: “Lu Xuezhen… you bastard!”

He suddenly stood up, taking an umbrella to go out. When servants inquired, Prince Chen was already in his carriage: “Going to find Third Young Master.”

…

The heavy rain drizzled steadily, a thick fog rising between heaven and earth.

Having just left her brother-in-law and sister’s courtyard, Luo Yunsha hummed a tune while playing in the rain, hopping and skipping with her umbrella. As she twirled her umbrella, she accidentally bumped into a beautiful maid coming from the opposite direction.

Jingyue: “Oh my, young miss!”

While other maids held umbrellas, Jingyue was carrying scrolls half her height. She had been walking carefully, but when turning the corner was bumped by the hopping young miss, and the scrolls in her arms fell to the ground.

Jingyue panicked: “Quick, quick, check if the scrolls are wet! These were sent by the retainers for the young lord, they can’t be damaged.”

Luo Yunsha quickly apologized, crouching down to help hurriedly pick up the scrolls. Her brother-in-law, Third Young Master Lu Yun, was sharp-tongued—if her carelessness caused Sister Jingyue to be punished, how guilty the young miss would feel. Fortunately, when the scrolls fell, the maids who had served Third Young Master Lu for years were extremely capable in emergencies. They quickly picked up the scrolls and after a careful inspection found that only the outer covers needed to be wiped clean, the writing inside hadn’t gotten wet.

As Jingyue sighed in relief, she saw Luo Yunsha holding one scroll—the young miss had already stood up but was still reading… Jingyue smiled and snatched it back, saying jokingly: “Young miss, these are all confidential government matters, you can’t read them carelessly.”

Luo Yunsha froze, biting her lip, and after a while softly made an “oh” sound. She wasn’t as lively as usual, wasn’t chasing after Jingyue asking this and that as she usually would; she walked away holding her umbrella, looking lost. The young lady was gradually growing up, her retreating figure beginning to show some of the grace of a beautiful maiden… Jingyue wondered: “What’s wrong with little Sha’er now?”

Jingyue and the other maids naturally didn’t know that when Luo Yunsha helped pick up the scrolls, she had seen an execution list. The first name was one she hadn’t heard, but the second was Yue Zihan.

She only knew “Brother Zihan,” she didn’t know who “Yue Zihan” was. But,… how could there be such a coincidence in the world? Whether Brother Zihan was that Yue Zihan, whether he had committed terrible crimes, whether brother-in-law was going to kill him… Luo Yunsha returned silently to her chambers, lying face-down on her desk in deep distress.

She was starting to grow up, developing some matters of the heart of her own. She couldn’t tell others, could only nurse her wounds in silence when alone.

When the maid Lingxi realized she hadn’t heard the young miss’s lively chatter for quite a while and came to check, she discovered the young miss had caught a chill, her forehead burning hot. Lingxi panicked—being typically timid and indecisive when the young miss fell ill, and the first person she thought of was Lady Luo Lingyu.

Luo Lingyu had been with Madame Lu and the newly wedded Second Young Mistress, the women competing over household management matters, which was somewhat interesting. Learning her sister was ill, Luo Lingyu directly brought a physician to visit. While the physician was taking the young miss’s pulse in the inner chamber, Luo Lingyu sat in the outer chamber, both asking the maids about the cause of her sister’s illness and taking the piece of silk paper that Lingxi tremblingly handed over—

“Your servant took this from the desk, it was written by the young miss.”

Luo Lingyu lowered her eyes, her eyelids twitching slightly as she saw written on the paper: Yue Zihan.

After the physician came out, Luo Lingyu went to the inner chamber to accompany her sister for a while. Holding her fever-dazed sister in her arms, she stroked her forehead and asked softly: “Sha’er, who is ‘Yue Zihan’? What did your brother-in-law do to you?”

The maids said Luo Yunsha had fallen ill after returning from Lu Yun’s place. There must be some reason for it.

Luo Yunsha, delirious with fever, mumbled something unclearly, and Luo Lingyu couldn’t make it out, so she had to give up. After instructing the maids to take good care of her sister, Luo Lingyu took away the note with the name “Yue Zihan” written on it. It wasn’t that she wanted to be harsh on Lu Yun or thought he would bully her sister. Given Third Young Master Lu’s fondness for her sister, he probably wouldn’t even scold her, let alone say anything wrong to Sha’er… Luo Lingyu felt somewhat sour about this.

However, Lu Yun worked at the government office during the day, he wasn’t at home, so he shouldn’t have encountered her sister at all.

Luo Lingyu returned to her chambers, the courtyard quiet, with maid Jingyue standing in the corridor winking at her, finger to her lips making a “shh” sound, then pointing inside the bamboo curtain. Luo Lingyu pressed her lips together, her heart-stirring.

In the dim night, the corridor lanterns swayed in the rain. Luo Lingyu entered, lifting the beaded curtain to walk inside, and indeed saw a young man lying on the couch. He hadn’t changed out of his crimson court robes, and even while sleeping casually on the couch, the red robes remained proper with the brocade belt at his waist. His fine clothes emphasized the young lord’s cold, aloof air.

A book lay open covering his face, his black hair spread like thick ink, and the fingers resting on the book were long and strong, yet with the warm luster of jade.

Luo Lingyu felt the rain-dampness at the edge of his clothes and paused, bending down to remove his outer robe when she also smelled the faint scent of wine on him. She took away the book covering his face and saw his tired expression, her heart suddenly aching for him. He still had his eyes closed, dark circles visible, clearly unaware his wife had returned.

As Luo Lingyu sat by the couch, lost in thought while gazing at Lu Yun’s sleeping face, a maid outside hesitantly said softly: “My lady, the young lord earlier instructed us to prepare a bath. The hot water is ready now.”

Luo Lingyu: “He’s already asleep, how can he bathe? Let’s wait until tomorrow.”

Maid: “…But isn’t my lady here? The young lord has been drinking, it’s not good for him to sleep like this?”

Luo Lingyu: “…”

She had been thinking of asking Lu Yun who “Yue Zihan” was, but was the maid suggesting she help Lu Yun bathe? This, this, this… wouldn’t be proper?!