Zili waited anxiously, yet also with anticipation. Looking left and right, every corner of Jade Glaze Palace pleased his eye. Gu Tianlin had already been brought into the palace; he found her especially demure and gentle today, and could not help but compliment her: “Tianlin, this outfit really suits you.”

Gu Tianlin’s cheeks flushed, her eyes shimmering, her skin all the more fair beneath the sky-blue gauze silk.

Zili had told no one that he would go to the Imperial Mausoleum’s ice spring tonight. Gu Tianlin, assuming he was simply pleased about tomorrow’s coronation, said softly: “My lord — ah, Your Majesty — tomorrow will be busy. You should rest early.”

“Yes, tomorrow’s ceremony will be exhausting. Tianlin, rest early — I still have matters to attend to.” He glanced at Gu Tianlin; the disappointment in her eyes was so obvious that his heart softened: “Tomorrow’s affairs will be complicated…”

“This concubine understands. Your Majesty mustn’t overexert yourself. This concubine will take her leave now!” Gu Tianlin quickly understood Zili’s meaning, secretly chiding herself for not being able to hold back this time.

The palace attendants had just carried the soft sedan to the rear hall when Zili hurried over. Anxiously he lifted the curtain, and saw A’Luo deep in sleep. Her lips were dry and cracked, her face pale, her expression listless. Zili calculated silently — she had gone two full days without water or food. He reached out and touched her face; A’Luo did not stir at all. Zili’s heart ached unbearably, and he said in a deep voice: “Change to the sedan for the mountain — to the Imperial Mausoleum!”

“Yes!”

An hour later, the sedan stopped outside the Imperial Mausoleum. The moon hung aslant in the sky, its pale light spilling across the snow-covered mountain — what a serene world!

Zili lifted the curtain and surveyed the icy, snowy landscape. He carefully draped a fur robe over A’Luo. The pure white fur collar nearly covered her entire face; Zili laughed softly: “Still such a tiny face.”

Zili did not step out of the sedan. The palace attendants stood quietly to one side. He cupped A’Luo’s face: “Once we go in, you will be my consort. Are you willing, A’Luo?”

A’Luo did not answer.

He asked again softly: “But I must save you — if I truly cannot have you, I would rather destroy you than let anyone else so much as touch a hair on your head. So, you can only be my consort. Are you willing?”

A’Luo remained deep asleep.

Zili gazed at her for a long while. A’Luo, if I bring you in like this, once you wake you will have no choice but to be my consort. What if you’re unwilling? I long for you to agree, to become my woman just like this. And yet, there’s a question in my heart — I have my own pride. I don’t want you to end up with me merely because of some rule. Even if you become my consort simply because you entered the mausoleum, I will forever wonder — was it only circumstance forcing you to marry me, rather than your heart truly holding me? A’Luo, how should I choose? Won’t you tell me?

He stared at her blankly, then tucked her robe more snugly around her, and finally sighed long and stepped down from the sedan. Walking to the mausoleum entrance, he called out loudly: “The thirteenth King of Ning, Liu Fei, requests entry into the Imperial Mausoleum!”

From the jade-carved gate, eight figures slowly emerged, all dressed in white, kneeling prostrate on the ground: “Long live our King!” After the ceremony, the eight rose; one among them spoke: “The sixth generation of Mausoleum Keepers respectfully invites Your Majesty to enter.”

Zili waved his hand, and the palace attendants carried the small sedan toward the hillside to one side. He walked slowly into the mausoleum. This was his first time entering the Imperial Mausoleum. The tomb keepers followed close behind, leading him from hall to hall, bowing before each.

He finally saw his father. He lay upon an ice bed, lifelike as though still living. “Might this humble one accompany Father alone for a moment?”

“As Your Majesty wishes!” The tomb keepers withdrew.

Zili was secretly astonished — the skill of these tomb keepers was truly unfathomable. Outside the mausoleum he had noticed they left no footprints in the snow, and wore only thin garments. Living year-round in the snowy mountain peaks without profound internal cultivation, one could never survive.

He gathered his thoughts and knelt before Prince Ning: “Father, Zili misses you so much. I’ve finally endured to become King of Ning today. Only the King of Ning may come here to see you — from now on, Zili will come every year to keep you company… Zili is very lonely. Alone, and now I must hold up an entire kingdom — it will be exhausting, Father.”

Zili looked at Prince Ning upon the ice bed, feeling he had endless words to say, endless bitterness to pour out — things he had never dared say before could all be spoken freely here. But he knew that if he didn’t hurry to revive A’Luo with the ice spring water, it would delay the coronation ceremony. Reluctantly, he stopped, glanced once more at his father, and walked out.

“Take me to the mausoleum’s ice spring,” Zili instructed.

“Yes!” The tomb keepers led the way, passing through the ice palaces where generations of emperors rested; a tomb keeper pushed open a moon gate carved from cold jade. Inside was a small courtyard; Zili stepped in and saw, to his astonishment, strange red flowers blooming within — upon closer look, they were carved from exquisite red chalcedony. The leaves were fashioned from top-grade emerald. He stood stunned for a moment.

“The treasures of our Ning Kingdom are all stored within the Imperial Mausoleum — these here are mere decoration. Over three hundred years, such astonishing wealth has accumulated!” the tomb keeper said with pride in his voice.

“Treasure that cannot be put to use, however great, is merely dead and useless,” Zili said flatly.

“The ancestors left behind a final decree — descendants who unify all under heaven may draw upon the treasury when the state coffers run dry. And should Ning Kingdom ever fall, future descendants may also draw upon it,” the tomb keeper answered respectfully.

“So you’re saying, I have the authority to use these treasures?”

“Yes, only Your Majesty may access them!”

“Then, if I take ice spring water to save someone?” Zili shifted the subject.

The tomb keeper’s expression turned solemn: “Does Your Majesty know of the Punishment of the Dragon Whip? To take the ice spring water without authorization requires enduring three lashes from us, your servants. And we will show no mercy whatsoever — Your Majesty can surely sense our strength.”

“Rules are dead things, but people are alive — why must a mere spring of water be treated with such gravity?” Zili said lightly.

The eight tomb keepers knelt before him: “Only past emperors and we, the hereditary tomb keepers across generations, know this secret. The remains of our founding sage-emperors are delivered to the mausoleum gate and welcomed in by us keepers, but once within the mausoleum, they must first soak in the ice spring for three days before being placed in the ice palace, so as to preserve their imperial countenance. This ice spring purifies the sacred bodies of our ancestor-emperors — how could it be casually taken to save someone? Thus our ancestors established this rule: the ice spring water must never be taken without authorization. If Your Majesty takes the water, you must endure the Dragon Whip to atone for the sin of defiling the sacred body!”

Zili finally understood why obtaining the ice spring water was so difficult, and sighed long: “Let me go in and take a look.”

The tomb keeper walked to the ice wall within the courtyard and activated a mechanism. Zili stepped inside; within the hall carved of cold jade, mist swirled thickly, and he shivered involuntarily. Straining his eyes, he could faintly make out, amid the cold fog, a pool of green water bubbling forth.

“If Your Majesty bathes in the ice spring here every year, it can calm the spirit and clear the mind. In one’s lifetime, only one imperial consort may ever be brought here — this is an unparalleled honor for the reigning king,” the tomb keeper reminded him. “But if one has endured the Dragon Whip’s punishment, soaking in the ice spring afterward is seeking death.”

Zili struggled inwardly — should he bring A’Luo here, or not? Two thoughts warred in his mind. By the time he stepped out of the stone chamber, the moon had already tilted east. He made up his mind: “This king will take the water to save a life!”

The eight tomb keepers started, and knelt together: “Your Majesty’s sacred body is of the utmost importance — please reconsider!”

“My mind is made up, there’s no need to persuade me further. Only — tomorrow morning is the coronation ceremony. Will the whip affect it?”

“With the eight of us assisting Your Majesty, there will be no trouble!”

The lead tomb keeper issued a series of commands, and a line of white-robed figures emerged from within the mausoleum, taking up jade basins to draw water from the spring. The palace attendants waited outside; before long, the water had been poured into a pre-dug pit in the snow, curtains set up around it to enclose the space. A’Luo, wearing only her inner garments, was submerged in the pool of green water.

Zili did not go back outside. He walked to his father’s ice palace and knelt, kowtowing three times. In a low voice he said: “Your son is unworthy. Today I could have brought your imperial daughter-in-law to see you, but I could not bring myself to do it, nor did I think it right. Zili bids farewell to Father here, and will return next year to pay respects.”

He walked out of the ice palace, and the tomb keeper led him into a great hall. Upon the walls hung portraits of Ning Kingdom’s twelve generations of kings; around the ice walls were carved scenes of the founding wars. Zili’s gaze swept across them, and pride at being emperor once again rose within his chest. In the future, he would surely surpass all his ancestors and unify the five kingdoms!

His eyes fell upon the soft cushion at the center of the hall. A’Luo, I choose to endure the Dragon Whip’s punishment. I will not use my ancestors’ rules to bind you — will you choose me? Even if you don’t choose me, even if I suffer to death every year on that day, it is my due retribution. Back then, after all, I did not refuse the betrothal and insist on marrying you! Zili sighed softly, slowly knelt, and with one hand pulled off his upper garment, revealing his bare back: “I’m ready.”

The tomb keepers stood behind him; one of them gave a flick of his hand, revealing a whip of silvery white, wisps of cold air trailing from it: “Your Majesty may channel all your internal energy — this servant begs pardon for any offense.”

Zili silently raised his internal energy to protect his heart meridian. He heard a loud shout from behind, felt the Dragon Whip already pressed against his body — a piercing pain accompanied by an extremely yin, cold energy suddenly bored into his body. His internal energy resisted like ants trying to shake a great tree; the freezing energy, like a wild dragon, shattered his defenses in an instant. His breath caught, his vision went black, and both hands pressed hard against the ground to keep himself upright.

Another loud shout: “Second lash!”

He had thought he’d already reached the limit of pain, yet the second lash proved even more agonizing. Bone-piercing cold and pain howled through him together. His internal energy was entirely useless now, as the icy dragon rampaged unchecked within him. Zili opened his mouth to cry out, but a mouthful of blood spurted out instead. His whole body seemed nailed to the ground.

The tomb keeper behind him shook the Dragon Whip; the whip, made from dragon sinew, was translucent throughout, exhaling wisps of cold mist, writhing in his hand like a true dragon, eager to take flight. The tomb keeper looked with admiration at the new king, who had still not collapsed, and shouted loudly: “Here comes the third lash!”

When the third lash struck, Zili let out a miserable cry, his mind going utterly blank, his entire body frozen stiff, unable even to tremble. Three bloody welts burst across his back, coiled like dragons.

Once the three lashes were done, the eight tomb keepers leapt forward together, palms pressed against Zili’s body, channeling true energy into him. They sealed that icy dragon within his body into a corner of his dantian, while simultaneously prying open his mouth to feed him miraculous medicine, the eight of them taking turns continuously channeling their power.

Half an hour later, color gradually returned to Zili’s face. He slowly opened his eyes, raised his internal energy, and felt no abnormality throughout his body — his meridians even more open and unobstructed than before. He smiled and stood up; his back throbbed with the searing pain of the whip wounds, but for one with cultivation, this was nearly negligible: “Very good!”

The eight knelt prostrate: “On the day of heavy snow, this servant will send someone down the mountain to help Your Majesty through the ordeal.”

“Good. Next year, I’ll come again!” Zili’s heart was preoccupied with thoughts of A’Luo. He made his way out of the mausoleum.

The tomb keepers escorted him to the mausoleum gate: “Respectfully seeing off Your Majesty!”

Zili lifted the surrounding curtain and saw A’Luo soaking in the water — amid the ice and snow, a pool of green water, mist rising from its surface, her face veiled within the fog, seeming both real and illusory, her features as clear and lovely as a new moon. A flush gradually rose to her cheeks, as though she felt no fear of the spring’s chill at all. Beside the ice and snow perched a hawk, its sharp eyes fixed intently on A’Luo, both bewitching and eerie, beautiful to the extreme. The sight before him left Zili transfixed. This was the first time since returning to Wind City that he had truly, carefully looked at A’Luo. Just as he had once declared — she truly was breathtakingly beautiful. Zili sat cross-legged by the pool’s edge, watching her without moving.

She truly was beautiful — beautiful in a way that made him unwilling to let another man so much as glance at her twice. Zili’s heart began to struggle once more. Should he tell her everything once she woke, and let her choose for herself? Should he hide it from everyone, so that from now on she would be his alone? Zili felt a twinge of regret at not having brought her into the mausoleum — if she had entered, wouldn’t this difficult choice have been avoided? He gave a wry smile — but if that had happened, he would never have known why she had entered the palace to become his consort. He murmured softly: “A’Luo, today I endured the Dragon Whip’s punishment. Even if I suffer this pain for the rest of my life, I will never regret it!”

A’Luo slowly began to regain consciousness. In the darkness, everything around her felt so cold — was she still in Wang Yanhui’s underground chamber? That gloomy stone room. She had inhaled some kind of fragrance before losing consciousness. Suddenly a wave of heat washed over her, driving away the chill throughout her body. Ah, the kind of heat you’d only feel in a sauna’s dry steam. A flash of joy — had she returned? Had it all been a dream — Ning Kingdom, the Chancellor’s residence, Zili, Liu Jue? She felt pain again too, though she wasn’t sure where — her whole body ached. After alternating between cold and hot, pain and soreness, her limbs gradually grew pleasantly warm and relaxed. She sensed she was soaking in water — a hot spring? But why was the air she breathed so cold? She struggled to open her eyes.

Seeing her eyelashes flutter, Zili leapt up in alarm, sprang across the water, scooped her up, pressed her sleep acupoint, and called out repeatedly: “Quick, bring a blanket!”

The palace attendants fumbled to hand over a blanket. Zili, unwilling to wait for the sedan down the mountain, wrapped A’Luo up and carried her himself. Once he held her in his arms, the desire to never let go, to hold her like this for a lifetime, overpowered everything else. There was no choice left — only one decision! Zili turned back to the attendants, his gaze stern: “If anyone dares breathe a word of what happened today, this king will show no mercy!”

The attendants all knelt: “Your servants would never dare!”

“Bring that hawk along, and follow with the sedan down the mountain!” Zili scooped up A’Luo and used his lightness skill to leap down the mountainside toward the palace complex below.

He carried A’Luo into the side hall of Jade Dragon Palace, handing her to the palace maids who had long been waiting. Seeing the sky beginning to lighten, he hurried back to Jade Glaze Palace.

Two hours later, A’Luo’s sealed acupoint naturally released. She opened her eyes; the surroundings, gleaming with gold, gave her a fright — had she time-traveled to yet another dynasty? Having to grow up again from age six was more than she could bear. She hurriedly checked herself — her limbs unchanged — and breathed a sigh of relief. She tried to sit up but found her whole body weak and soft.

At that moment, a palace maid lifted the gauze curtain: “My lady, you’re awake?”

“What?” A’Luo, upon speaking, realized it was still her original voice. She looked at the maid in confusion: “What did you just call me?”

“His Majesty instructed this servant to address my lady as such.” The maid deftly finished arranging the gauze curtain, then added: “My lady must be hungry — the porridge is ready. This servant will serve my lady.”

“Wait — who is His Majesty? What am I — you’re calling me ‘my lady’? Is this Ning Kingdom?” A’Luo could not make sense of it.

“Yes, this is Ning Kingdom. Today is His Majesty’s coronation ceremony — by now the palace’s main gate should be open for the officials to pay homage and the common people to view the ceremony.”

“Today is the eighteenth of March? Who became king? Liu Fei?” A’Luo thought she must have been unconscious for two or three days. Still, she couldn’t make sense of it at all.

The maid was terrified: “My lady, His Majesty’s name cannot be spoken aloud — it’s punishable by beheading!”

Ah, so Zili had successfully taken the throne. Then what about Liu Jue? Why hadn’t he come to bring her out of the palace? A’Luo suddenly startled: “Did you just say — His Majesty instructed you to call me ‘my lady’?”

“Yes!”

Heavens, unconscious for two or three days and suddenly she’d become Zili’s consort? What on earth had happened? A’Luo grew frightened, and pushed herself up to get out of bed. The maid came over to support her to the table: “His Majesty said my lady hasn’t had water or food for days and is weak — a little food will help you recover.”

Only then did A’Luo feel her hunger. She thought, better eat my fill first and figure things out after — she drained an entire bowl of clear porridge in three mouthfuls, startling the maid so badly she cried out: “My lady, please slow down!” A’Luo gulped down four bowls in quick succession, smacking her lips: “More!”

“My lady, it’s not good to overeat!” The maid was thoroughly alarmed — she had never seen a lady eat so much.

A’Luo sighed: “It’s not that I eat that much — it’s that the bowls are too small. Never mind, I’ll eat something else.” Chopsticks flying, she swept clean two small side dishes as well. Now feeling her stomach no longer empty, her strength had also mostly returned. She stood up, moved around a bit, and felt walking posed no problem. She said to the maid: “I’m leaving.”

The maid dropped to her knees: “My lady, please don’t go out! His Majesty instructed that he would come once the ceremony was over — if you leave, this servant won’t know how to explain it!”

A’Luo really wanted to go out and see what was happening. Looking at the maid kneeling on the floor, she said: “Come here.”

The maid approached timidly. A’Luo raised her palm and struck — the maid yelped in pain but dared not fight back. A’Luo looked at her palm and sighed: “I meant to knock you out, so you’d have an excuse. But I have no strength right now — you’ll just have to pretend to faint!”

The maid knelt again: “My lady, I beg you, please don’t go out.”

A’Luo, thoroughly annoyed, shouted loudly: “Stop calling me ‘my lady’ — I haven’t married him yet!”

The maid, startled by the shout, knelt frozen, not daring to say a word, but her hand still gripped the hem of A’Luo’s skirt tightly. A’Luo crouched down: “Let go, won’t you? I don’t want to knock you out, and I don’t have the strength anyway. If I use something else to hit your head, it’ll hurt you too.”

The maid raised her face, tears already glistening in her eyes. Her hand still would not let go. A’Luo sighed: “Fine, I won’t go out. I’m still weak anyway. Go make me a cup of tea — I’ll wait here for your King.”

The maid smiled with delight and rose to prepare the tea. A’Luo steeled herself, and the moment the maid turned her back, lifted a brocade stool and struck her down. The maid collapsed. A’Luo sighed: “If I don’t knock you out, your king will blame you. And besides, hearing ‘my lady’ makes my skin crawl.”

She looked at the silk skirt she was wearing, and with some effort, stripped off the maid’s outer robe and put it on. Looking in the mirror, she tucked a few strands of hair down over her forehead, picked up the teapot, and walked out the hall door.

Just as she descended the steps, she saw the imperial guards posted every few steps — with the new king’s coronation, security was naturally tight. She looked around and noticed a lush, green area to the right that looked very much like an imperial garden; she recalled the map of the palace grounds she’d once had Liu Ying sketch for her. Since the main gate was open today for the commoners to view the ceremony, that route out through there was the only way to slip past — the officials would surely all be gathered outside the main hall.

Could she see Liu Jue? A’Luo headed toward the palace gate. She had barely gone fifty meters from the side hall when two palace attendants approached. She lowered her head, holding the teapot, and stood still. She heard one ask: “Is my lady awake? Why aren’t you attending to her — why are you out here?”

“My lady woke and wanted tea, but complained this water tasted off, so she sent this servant to fetch fresh water. This servant is on the way to the Jade Spring Well to draw water for tea now.”

The two attendants murmured in acknowledgment: “Be quick about it — don’t let anything go wrong. That’s the Chancellor’s third daughter, and His Majesty dotes on her.”

“Yes!” A’Luo, head still lowered, replied in the maid’s soft voice, mimicking what she had heard earlier.

She walked a few more steps and glanced back to see the two attendants had already pushed open the hall door. Her heart lurched, and she quickly slipped into a side path. There were few guards here; A’Luo hurried along with her head down, and seeing no one to either side, lifted her skirts and broke into a run. She soon heard voices calling out behind her.

Toward the main gate, guards were densely stationed; her body hadn’t fully recovered, and she wouldn’t make it to the gate before being caught — who had ever seen someone running heedlessly through the palace like this, breaking all etiquette? She thought of the maze-like imperial garden and, without further thought, ran straight into it. As luck would have it, today, with the new king’s coronation, all the titled ladies of the harem and court were gathered in the side hall beside the main hall awaiting audience — the garden had no attendants and no guards in sight.

A’Luo recalled the layout from her last visit and headed persistently toward the western palace wall. Suddenly her legs gave out and she sat down. Panting, she thought — I should have eaten a bit more just now. Good thing my constitution is solid, that I could still manage to run this far.

She looked around, crawled into a thicket to hide, and, still catching her breath, strained her ears to listen for any sound. She patted her flushed, sweaty face and inadvertently touched her ear. The earring! She quickly removed one earring — every single thing on her had been changed out, except this earring, cleverly crafted as a Black Guard signal firework, a bead the size of a pearl. A’Luo pried open the earring’s floral setting; Prince Anqing had given her three of these originally, and she had kept them stored inside the hollow flower-shaped bead. A small green pellet spun in her palm. A’Luo hurled it to the ground with force; the pellet bounced into the air and burst open, shooting out a streak of bluish-violet firework light.

A’Luo watched the firework, thought for a moment, then crawled on hands and knees to hide in a thicket ten zhang away from where the firework had gone off. She closed her eyes to rest, waiting for the Black Guard to spot it and come rescue her.