Aside from the hidden pigeon-signal lookouts of the Black Guard, the first to spot the firework was Liu Ying outside the palace gate. His thoughts were preoccupied with A’Luo; today being the new king’s coronation, Xiao Yu had wanted to see the excitement, so he had brought her along.

The square outside the palace gate was packed with people, the palace gates leading straight to the main hall thrown wide open. The commoners could see from a distance the officials bowing in the main hall. Imperial guards controlled the palace gates; security within the city had also been heightened.

Zili sat high upon the dragon throne, golden crown and yellow robe. Below, the hundred officials knelt prostrate; looking out from the hall, one could see the crowds thronging the square outside. In that moment, he truly, fully felt the authority of an emperor.

Just as A’Luo released her firework, Prince Anqing and his son, along with the other officials, were receiving their titles and honors. A palace attendant solemnly read out the imperial edict, granting rank one by one to meritorious officials.

Liu Ying knew that Prince Anqing and his son were within the great hall; unable to enter himself, he had a sudden idea and, pulling Xiao Yu along, bought firecrackers and fireworks. He lit them, and the commoners, following suit, also lit off their own firecrackers in celebration; the square outside erupted with thunderous noise. Zili, watching this, allowed a smile to bloom on his face.

Chancellor Li seized the moment to step forward: “Our people too know that Your Majesty is a wise and sage ruler — this is joy welling up straight from their hearts!”

Zili smiled inwardly — no wonder Chancellor Li had remained in favor for so many years, no wonder emperors always liked to keep one or two flattering courtiers around; it was pleasant to hear.

Liu Ying set off various fireworks in succession, one of which carried a signal only the Black Guard would understand. Liu Jue’s gaze flicked outward, and he suddenly caught sight of the signal. This signal was exclusive to the Blue Squad, meaning urgent trouble to the west. West of Wind City? Impossible — all three gates were heavily guarded; if there were troublemakers, it wouldn’t require the Blue Squad, which protected the princely residence, to respond, especially since the residence was in the East City. Unless — west of the royal palace? The imperial garden? Liu Jue suddenly realized this was Liu Ying using the Blue Squad’s signal to tell him A’Luo was in the imperial garden.

His heart abruptly raced. He was in the middle of the ceremony and could not leave. His anxiety was like a cat clawing at his insides. Finally, he heard the attendant finish reading the long list of appointments. Next came the new king receiving homage from the consorts of the various palaces and titled ladies among his relatives. The officials withdrew, and the ranked ladies, led by the Empress, entered the golden hall.

Zili sat calmly, watching Gu Tianlin enter the hall in her formal finery, moving gracefully. He had to admit — his Empress truly was beautiful. Involuntarily, his thoughts turned to A’Luo — if she were dressed like this, what would she look like? His eyes remained on Gu Tianlin, but his heart had already flown back to the side hall of Jade Dragon Palace.

After leaving the golden hall, Liu Jue looked west. The firework hadn’t fully faded yet; a faint bluish-violet tinge lingered in the air. He thought for a moment, then, relying on his familiarity with the palace grounds, swiftly made his way toward the imperial garden.

Before he even arrived, he could already hear several anxious voices from the attendants: “Hurry and find her! What will we do once the ceremony ends and His Majesty wants to see her!” Along with the attendants’ voices came the sound of a team of palace guards and about a dozen attendants scattering in all directions. Several were already searching the imperial garden.

Liu Jue thought — they must be searching for A’Luo, no doubt. So she was safe after all? A’Luo, you really are clever, hiding in the imperial garden. He used his lightness skill to slip past the attendants, and soon reached the spot where the firework had gone off. No one was around here; anxiously, he lowered his voice and called out: “A’Luo, are you here? A’Luo!”

A’Luo, heart pounding with fear, crouched in the thicket, peering through the gaps and waiting. She still couldn’t make sense of what had happened — that maid calling her “my lady” over and over had left her deeply unsettled. Had something happened? She didn’t want to marry Zili, didn’t want to stay in the palace. Never before had she longed for Liu Jue this much — she only wanted to see him, her heart consumed only with thoughts of him. Only now did she realize how deep her feelings for him truly ran. Every minute of waiting was torment; she felt as though time had crawled by so long she’d nearly given up hope. Then, suddenly, hearing Liu Jue’s voice, she felt as if worlds away, momentarily stunned.

Liu Jue called twice with no response, growing more anxious, and called softly again: “A’Luo, are you there? Is that you?”

She wanted to call out to him but somehow couldn’t make a sound; in her urgency, she brushed against a branch. Liu Jue’s eyes flashed, and he leapt over. Pushing aside the thicket, he saw A’Luo curled up pitifully, looking at him, covered in dirt and grass, tears welling in her eyes, lips trembling. Liu Jue’s heart ached; he reached out his hand and called softly: “It’s me. Come, come out, A’Luo.”

A’Luo snapped awake, scrambling and crawling out of the thicket to throw herself into his arms, bursting into loud sobs. Liu Jue held her tightly, urgent: “Don’t cry — this is the palace! Don’t make a sound!”

A’Luo buried her face in his chest, muffling her sobs; Liu Jue felt her body shaking violently, and held her even tighter, his ears alert to any sound around them. After a good while, A’Luo finally calmed down, and said, her voice choked: “That maid called me ‘my lady’ — I panicked, Liu Jue, I panicked! What is going on!”

Liu Jue did not answer. He loosened his hold slightly to look her over — she was unharmed, and his heart eased somewhat, but he pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tight. Zili had ordered the maids to address her this way — she had entered the mausoleum, she could only be his consort now — how could he possibly answer this, how!

His hands were so strong, his chest so warm. A’Luo murmured: “Take me away. I don’t want to be in the palace — the moment I entered, I felt uneasy all over. It’s full of scheming here, I hate it.”

A’Luo’s words felt like a knife splitting Liu Jue’s heart clean in two, an agony that tore through him: “A’Luo, I can’t take you away right now!”

“Why not?”

“Because you are his imperial consort — I cannot take you away!” Liu Jue finally forced the words out with difficulty.

A’Luo was stunned. She’d woken up and somehow become Zili’s little wife? She looked at Liu Jue in confusion, her eyes full of incomprehension: “I never agreed to marry him, did I? I haven’t married him either, have I?”

“Whether you agreed or not, whether you’ve married him or not, you are!”

“That’s absurd!” A’Luo cursed in her anger. She couldn’t fathom what had happened in the span of two days — today Zili had taken the throne: “Zili isn’t that kind of person! How could he possibly do something like this right after ascending the throne!”

Liu Jue smiled bitterly: “He didn’t do it. It was me — I was the one who sent you into the palace.”

A’Luo looked at him in shock: “Why?”

“Because—” Liu Jue was about to explain when he suddenly sensed someone approaching. He pulled A’Luo to leave, but hearing the movement, he stopped. He sensed the newcomers had already surrounded this section of the imperial garden. From the sound of the accompanying footsteps, it was Zili. He released A’Luo’s hand and stepped back two paces; letting Zili see this scene, Liu Jue sighed inwardly, his eyes sorrowfully turned toward A’Luo.

She was struck still by his gaze. Why did Liu Jue look so pained, his face so helpless? She opened her mouth, about to speak, when her eyes caught sight of a group of guards approaching. Startled, she looked toward Liu Jue, but he had turned his face away, looking to the east.

Liu Jue could not possibly hand her over to Zili, could not! Was it really Zili forcing him into this? Newly ascended to the throne, it seemed unlike him. A’Luo stood there, motionless, her mind swirling with countless thoughts.

Once the ceremony ended, an attendant had already reported to Zili. Furious, he wondered how someone could vanish the moment his back was turned. He searched palace after palace until finally an attendant reported hearing voices in the imperial garden. He rushed over still in his dragon robes.

Spotting the two figures standing in the distance, Zili did not rush over, but walked slowly toward A’Luo and Liu Jue.

Liu Jue dropped to one knee: “Your Majesty!”

“Rise!” Zili said flatly, a surge of anger already stirring faintly within him.

Liu Jue stood and remained silently to one side. Zili gazed tenderly at A’Luo: “Why so mischievous, running off to play hide and seek here?”

A’Luo looked at him — the resplendent golden dragon robe, the jeweled crown atop his head — familiar and yet strange: “Zili…”

“How dare you speak His Majesty’s name so brazenly!” An attendant beside Zili scolded A’Luo in a shrill voice. The sudden sharp sound startled A’Luo.

Zili shot the attendant a cold glance, then turned back, his face once again full of tenderness: “Your clothes are all dirtied — come back with me to the palace and change.”

A’Luo grew more and more confused: “Tell your people to leave — I have questions for you both!”

Zili glanced at Liu Jue: “So it seems the Prince of Pingnan hasn’t told you yet. You may all withdraw.”

Only the three of them remained in the imperial garden. Zili said with a smile: “No need for formalities — Yunzhi, will you explain, or shall I?”

Liu Jue looked calmly at A’Luo and said: “That day, you were poisoned with the Lost Soul Jade Luring Incense by Wang Yanhui. You were unconscious for two days — the only cure was to soak in the Imperial Mausoleum’s ice spring. But the only woman permitted to enter the mausoleum is His Majesty’s consort. If you were not his consort and entered the mausoleum anyway, you would have died.”

A’Luo understood somewhat, and yet not entirely. She looked toward Zili: “Can I still call you Elder Brother?”

“Of course.” Zili said with a faint smile.

“I understand — to save my life, I had to enter that mausoleum of yours, and the rule is that whoever enters must be your consort. But, Elder Brother, I cannot marry you!” A’Luo finally understood the whole picture. She couldn’t help but silently curse — soaking in a spring pool required marrying someone? What a ridiculous rule.

Zili’s heart ached with a pang of sorrow — thank goodness he hadn’t brought her into the mausoleum after all. But — do you really not want to marry me at all? Knowing that not entering the palace as my consort means death, you still don’t want to? Zili’s smile remained fixed on his face: “A’Luo, you must understand — neither Yunzhi nor I could bear to watch you die.”

Liu Jue chimed in: “So, you must become his imperial consort!” He understood well enough — even if A’Luo were unwilling, without proper preparations there was no way to take her away — she would absolutely not be able to escape, and if caught, only death awaited her. At that point, not even Zili could protect her.

A’Luo, hearing the two of them speak in turn as though the matter were already settled, grew furious and shouted: “What kind of ridiculous rule! What’s so special about the mausoleum? Even the Thirteen Tombs got blown open for treasure hunting! This is your rule, not mine!”

“I won’t allow you to be so willful! If you don’t become his consort, you will die! Do you understand?” Liu Jue cut her off sharply. If she kept ranting like this and word got out, a pile of memorials would demand her execution.

A’Luo was stunned by his shout, feeling deeply wronged in her heart. Right — to save me, must I really sacrifice the rest of my life? And then fight tooth and nail with Zili’s other wives and concubines?

“A’Luo, does marrying me really distress you this much? Do you not hold even a small place for me in your heart at all?” Zili asked sorrowfully.

A’Luo’s heart softened, tears welling in her eyes again: “Elder Brother — you are my elder brother!”

Zili gazed steadily at her; every time he saw her like this, his resolve seemed to falter. And yet that unwillingness to accept still rose in his heart — had the answer really come this quickly? Not even a full day had passed, and already her feelings lay plainly before him. He looked scornfully at Liu Jue, betraying nothing.

Liu Jue’s heart shattered into countless pieces. Zili looked at him — what could he say? Comfort her in front of Zili, tell her to be patient, that once arrangements were made he would take her and flee? Liu Jue turned his face away, not daring to look at A’Luo: “From now on, you’d best forget Liu Jue. Today I will go to the Chancellor’s residence to break off the engagement!” Having said this, he bowed to Zili: “Your Majesty, she now knows the truth — this subject takes his leave.” With that, he resolutely walked away.

A’Luo watched, mouth agape, as Liu Jue walked away. He was just leaving, like that? She couldn’t help but cry out: “Liu Jue!”

His body paused for a moment, but he did not turn back.

A’Luo couldn’t help but sink to the ground, tears streaming down in strings.

Zili crouched down and reached out to wipe her tears; A’Luo turned her head away. Her mind was in chaos — Liu Jue didn’t want her to die, wanted her to become Zili’s consort instead — what should she do to leave the palace? She turned back to look at Zili, pleading: “Elder Brother, I beg you, I don’t like the palace. Let me go, won’t you? There are plenty of ways — feign death, find a substitute — anything, please?”

A spark of fire finally ignited within Zili’s heart: “You really don’t want to marry me this much? Your heart holds only him?!” His voice softened again: “A’Luo, why? Knowing you’ll die, you still won’t agree? Neither of us could bear to watch you die, so no matter what, I will never let you leave.”

“Elder Brother, how can feelings be forced? Before, I didn’t understand, but now I understand very clearly — I truly don’t like the palace. If you’re not going to kill me, well, your rule says I have to die if I don’t become your little wife anyway!”

Zili closed his eyes, suppressing the fire rising within his chest; the pain on his back had not yet faded, that bone-piercing chill suddenly surging up again. He had endured that suffering for her, and she — she would rather die than become his consort! Her heart held not the slightest place for him! Zili burst into laughter, the sound carrying boundless desolation. He bent down and scooped A’Luo up into his arms, and spoke each word deliberately: “I will not let you die. This, is not up to you.”

A’Luo, both furious and desperate, screamed for him to let go, weakly beating at him with her hands and feet.

Zili paid her no mind, carrying her straight out of the imperial garden. A’Luo, seething, bit down hard on his shoulder. Zili flinched, stopped for a moment, and looked at her with pained eyes: “I told you — I won’t let go. Especially since it was Liu Jue himself who sent you here — I certainly won’t let you leave.”

Zili’s expression was grave and serious. A’Luo, with no way out, her anger and desperation surging together, and her body not yet fully recovered from running so far — her vision went dark, and she fainted.