Inside the palace of Fengcheng, Zili felt a chill surge through every limb, from the tips of his toes to the tips of his fingers, the pain making him tremble uncontrollably. A fire brazier had been lit in the side hall. Charcoal burned beneath the bed. Large beads of sweat poured over his entire body, dripping onto the bed with a hiss, rising as faint wisps of smoke before instantly turning to vapor.

Only the tomb keeper of the imperial mausoleum stayed with him in the hall, again and again pressing golden needles with inner energy into his acupoints. “Your Majesty, if it hurts too much, cry out. It’s alright,” the tomb keeper gently urged.

Zili forced himself to endure, his body shaking uncontrollably. With a pop, one golden needle flew from his body and shot straight into the roof beam. Zili closed his eyes. It had been more than half a year, and A’Luo still hadn’t been found. She was in Xia Guo, yet he couldn’t see her. What kind of days had she been living through? The pain in his heart welled up—the Yuhua Hall was still empty. Even her presence was slowly fading. Would he never see her again? Zili suddenly began to hate himself.

What was this icy cold? Scraping at his bones inch by inch! Was this what pain felt like? Let it hurt! His A’Luo—he himself had pushed her into danger. Serves him right, he deserved this pain! Zili gave up circulating his energy to resist the cold fury raging inside him. The agony crashed over him like an overturning sea. He gave a great roar and tried to leap up from the bed, and every golden needle in his body was jolted loose. Seeing things going badly, the tomb keeper pressed a palm to his dantian, channeling true energy in, feeling the yin-cold force inside him growing heavier, surging wildly through his body—only barely managing to guide it for a moment. Zili had a brief moment of clarity and said with difficulty, “Stop my mouth—don’t let me cry out.”

The tomb keeper stuffed a piece of soft wood between his teeth. “Your Majesty, think of pleasant things, think of things that make you happy.”

Zili’s limbs were locked to the bed; the restraints helped him bear the pain that felt like flesh being sliced by blades all over his body. Think of pleasant things, happy things? Fragments of memories with A’Luo flickered before his eyes. The handsome young man by the riverside. Blinking those crystal-clear eyes.

“I’ve had a servant hold the horse and wait here. Brother Shan, can you ride?”

“Does being led along on a horse count as knowing how to ride?”

It was her first time on a horse, wasn’t it? Curled up in his arms, trembling with fear.

“I think Qianfeng Tower is probably used to serving rich families rich, greasy food, so they made you something plain and simple to try for a change. It really doesn’t taste like much.”

“Elder Brother, if there’s ever a chance, little brother will cook you a few dishes—guaranteed to make your tongue want to swallow itself from how good it tastes!”

The way she wagged her head giving her verdict had been so endearing. What had he been thinking at the time? If he hadn’t preferred men, he would certainly have brought her home.

“Elder Brother, next time could you take little brother to try some other famous restaurants? Sampling good food is one of little brother’s great passions.”

She’d looked at him with bright, pleading eyes—the first time she’d shown him such an imploring expression. Without a second thought he’d agreed: “Brother Shan, do you know that when you look at someone with that expression, one can never bear to refuse you?”

It was from that moment, wasn’t it, that something had taken root. Zili’s gaze slowly grew unfocused, sinking into memory. The tomb keeper let out a breath of relief—as long as he stayed this distracted, the night would pass more easily for His Majesty. He stood quietly to the side, not daring to disturb him.

“I want a thousand taels of silver, can you give it to me… as repayment! Saving your life wore me out half to death! Your life is worth at least a thousand taels… I’m not being greedy. Two thousand taels, and we’re even, we won’t owe each other anything from now on… I know martial arts, and we’ve only just met, so it’s natural you’re suspicious. But, I just don’t like… without money you can’t take a single step, with money you can travel the world! Silver is a good thing, loving silver is the same as loving life.”

She’d always been like that—straightforward, never coy. What she liked and disliked, she always drew a clear, sharp line. He’d wanted to look after her, to dote on her, and had told her then: “Brother Shan, how about big brother takes care of you?” She’d changed the subject. Did she really not understand?

She made him feel like he could fly. She told him people had to take responsibility for their own actions. She never agreed to his offer, because she knew he was going to marry Gu Tianlin. Zili seemed unable to hold back the pain again. His body felt as though it had been thrown down onto a board of needles, punctured with dense little holes, then lifted and thrown down again. He opened his mouth to cry out, but all sound was blocked back by the soft wood.

A’Luo had said, “I’m so lucky to have met you—I thought I wouldn’t meet any good men here.”

A’Luo had said, “Your eyes are so bright, like the stars in the sky…”

A’Luo, asleep on his lap, on a grassland full of starlight, blooming with clusters of northern star orchids, the night wind carrying a faint chill, her warm body, her faint scent.

Zili relaxed again. What a wonderful night that had been. After that night—the Crown Prince’s night banquet, he hadn’t dared take the risk, and had watched helplessly as she was taken away by Liu Jue… the grand wedding, Gu Tianlin’s eyes… the bamboo grove at the Chancellor’s residence… that gentle call in the princely mansion… Big brother, big brother, big brother…

Was it A’Luo calling him? Was it her, had she come back? Zili, drenched in sweat, struggled to turn his head—the hall blazed with fierce fire, only the tomb keeper stood quietly to the side with lowered eyes. She still hadn’t come back. Had she died in Xia Guo? A wave of scorching heat pressed in, his whole body like meat skewered and roasted over fire, the burning sensation coming in waves, his skin scorched and unbearable, the cold force inside him crashing around wildly. Zili’s limbs stretched taut, and inside his chest, roiling like an overturning sea, a name was smothered—at the instant ice and fire met, it hissed and rose in blue smoke, branding itself into him again and again.

“I only ever thought of you as… big brother… yes, I like him, I like him…” A’Luo’s eyes held tears.

“Is this how you treat A’Luo? If you truly cherish her, would you let her suffer as a mere concubine?” Liu Jue said disdainfully.

With a soft crack, Zili bit clean through the wood in his mouth, let out a miserable scream, and fainted.

Outside the hall, Gu Tianlin’s face was already streaked with tears. She had kept vigil for most of the night; there had been no sound from within. The sudden, wretched scream startled her to her feet, and she rushed to the side hall without a second thought. A group of palace attendants knelt to block her: “Your Highness, His Majesty has ordered that no one may enter!”

Gu Tianlin’s voice trembled, her eyes red: “Get out of my way!” The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and she was startled at herself—since when had she learned to curse like that? She didn’t care anymore. She pushed the hall doors open and went in.

Zili—her husband, her king. Gu Tianlin covered her mouth to keep from crying out. He looked so fragile, so helpless. She hurried forward. The tomb keeper knelt and said softly, “Your Highness, if His Majesty says anything at all, please remember to go along with whatever he says.”

He handed her a dry cloth.

The moment Gu Tianlin entered the hall, the heat brought sweat to her skin. She looked at Zili, gently wiping away his sweat. Carefully dabbing his lips—they were ice-cold to the touch. Tears welled up again.

Zili slowly stirred, murmuring, “Don’t cry, A’Luo, don’t cry…”

Gu Tianlin covered her mouth with one hand, wiping his sweat with the other.

“A’Luo, you’ve come back?” Zili suddenly opened his eyes. Through the swirling heat, she sat before the bed, weeping softly. Was she crying for him? He forced a smile: “It doesn’t hurt, A’Luo. Big brother doesn’t hurt.”

Gu Tianlin finally let out a sob, her body trembling violently.

Zili tried to reach for her, but his body had no strength left. Anxiously he said, “Big brother won’t force you, A’Luo, don’t leave!”

Gu Tianlin collapsed onto Zili’s bare body, crying too hard to speak.

Her body was still so soft, still so warm. Zili felt the last traces of cold leaving him. The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile: “Big brother is tired, A’Luo, stay and sleep beside me… let’s go camp on the grasslands and watch the stars…” Zili’s voice slowly faded, and he stopped moving.

Gu Tianlin cried out in alarm: “Your Majesty!”

“Please don’t call out, Your Highness!” The tomb keeper glanced at the sky—it was almost time. “It’s passed. Please step back, Your Highness. His Majesty is in no danger now.”

Gu Tianlin walked out of the side hall, looking back again and again with each step.

The tomb keeper released Zili, lifted him, and quickly placed him into a tub of medicinal water to soak. Half an hour later, he lifted him out again and called for the attendants: “Carefully carry His Majesty back to his bedchamber. Don’t disturb him. Let him sleep until dawn, that’s all.”

Chu Nan, in the end, still couldn’t bear to let Cang Xie use A’Luo as a hostage. The dozens of death soldiers at his side fought to the death to hold off Cang Xie, while he broke out of Black Wind Fortress with A’Luo. Before long, Liu Jue’s great army had surrounded the fortress. A’Luo, sighing, was once again pulled away by Chu Nan.

Chu Nan was covered in blood, but thanks to his formidable martial skill, unharmed. Pulling A’Luo, he had barely made it down the mountain and into the valley when a miasma began rising from the valley floor; he inhaled a mouthful and felt intensely nauseated. Holding his breath, he pushed through with his last reserves of strength to get out of the valley, but the moment he entered the vast forest, his strength gave out entirely, and he collapsed.

He had held onto A’Luo’s hand the entire way, never letting go. Now his tall frame crashed to the ground, and A’Luo was pulled down with him. After a while, she climbed back up. The light in the forest was dim. A’Luo gazed off into the distance at the hazy mountain silhouette of Black Wind Fortress in the dusk, then looked at Chu Nan, unconscious. Was she free now? Should she take the chance to leave? A’Luo’s heart began pounding wildly.

She only made it a few steps before stopping. Cang Xie had wanted to poison her, to use her to threaten Liu Jue at the base of the mountain—Chu Nan had thrown caution to the wind to block Cang Xie and save her, getting her off the mountain. But now, could she really just leave him behind and go back alone? A’Luo remembered how Chu Nan had shielded her from the rain, how at Huaicheng he’d wanted to let her go, how he’d rushed into the prison to carry her out, how he’d sacrificed dozens of loyal death soldiers who had followed him faithfully from Chen Guo…

A’Luo slowly turned back and walked to Chu Nan’s side. She forced herself not to think of Liu Jue—if he knew she’d had a chance to escape and given it up to look after Chu Nan instead, who knew how hurt, how disappointed he’d be! She sighed, bent down, and with effort turned Chu Nan over. His face seemed shrouded in a layer of black mist.

“There’s a black miasma that occasionally drifts out from the bottom of this valley—it’s poisonous, and unbearably foul-smelling, which is why it’s called Black Wind Fortress.” A’Luo recalled the words of little Bubble. Chu Nan must have been poisoned by the miasma. How was she unaffected? She didn’t understand it either. She felt around Chu Nan’s waist and found a small fire striker. A’Luo gathered up some dry branches and leaves, opened the striker, and fanned it against the wind until a fire caught.

Night had already fallen, and the forest around her grew ever more sinister. She looked at Chu Nan, took his short sword, and noticed a clump of bamboo nearby. She cut a tender stalk to make a water tube, then, listening for the sound of running water, carefully made her way over with the torch held high.

She hadn’t gone two steps before she froze in icy terror—lying on the ground before her was a large snake. Snakes in the jungle were probably venomous nine times out of ten. She felt cold sweat soak through her back. The snake flicked its tongue at her; A’Luo stared at it, the water source visible just beyond, not daring to move. After a while, the snake slowly slithered away without attacking her. She let out a breath of relief, quickly filled the water tube, and ran back as fast as she could.

The moment she returned to where Chu Nan lay, she was startled again—several insects were crawling on his body. A’Luo nearly burst into tears. Steeling her nerve, she swept them away with the torch, and the startled insects scurried off quickly. A’Luo approached Chu Nan and lifted his head to try to give him water. As she lifted his head, several more insects fell from his hair and darted away rapidly, as if afraid to touch A’Luo’s body. She paused, then boldly reached her hand toward an insect crawling away on the ground—it fled even faster.

A’Luo looked at her own hand and suddenly remembered that on her wedding day, she had swallowed the moon-frost flower Ming Zhu had sent. Was she immune to all poisons? Was that why she hadn’t been affected by the miasma? She laughed—not bad, so she’d finally gained some means of self-protection.

By the firelight, the black mist on Chu Nan’s face seemed to be growing heavier—perhaps he’d been bitten by some poisonous insect while lying there just now. A’Luo thought—could her own blood perhaps counteract poison too? She picked up the short sword, warmed it over the fire, and studied its sharp edge. Where should she cut? She was afraid of pain; the idea of casually slicing herself and acting unbothered, as in the books, was one thing, but now that she actually had to cut a wound and draw blood, she grew afraid again.

Gesturing this way and that, A’Luo finally drew a finger across the blade—instantly the pain made her jump. She dropped the sword and blew on her finger frantically. Looking at the fingertip, blood was already flowing. She hurried to pinch open Chu Nan’s mouth and drip the blood in.

Chu Nan felt a fragrance spread from his mouth, and a flicker of consciousness returned. His mouth opened instinctively and closed around A’Luo’s finger, sucking almost greedily at the sweet source.

A’Luo, delighted, squeezed her finger harder, saying over and over, “This can save you, right? If I save you, we’re even!”

Chu Nan slowly came to his senses, the nausea in his chest gone. He felt a sweet taste in his mouth, as if he were holding something. He opened his eyes gently; A’Luo’s tear-streaked, jade-like face flickered in the firelight.

Seeing him awake, A’Luo let out a breath of relief and went to withdraw her finger, but suddenly felt a sharp pain—Chu Nan had bitten down and wouldn’t let go. “Hey! Let go!”

Chu Nan reached up and held her wrist, gently sucking at the finger in his mouth, his tongue lightly licking it. A’Luo shuddered all over and pulled hard to free herself.

Chu Nan opened his mouth, lifted her hand and looked at the cut on her finger: “So your blood can cure poison! And you’re this stingy about it? Just a little nick on the fingertip?”

A’Luo blushed, thinking that if it had been Liu Jue instead, she’d have deliberated back and forth for ages before reluctantly making a tiny cut—she’d have long since slashed open a vein and tried to revive him with a flood of blood.

Chu Nan released her hand, watching her lower her head in silence, his heart tightening again. Chen Guo was gone, Xia Guo had surrendered—should he kill Liu Jue, kill Prince Li, and restore his kingdom? He calmed himself, closed his eyes, and sat to circulate his energy. When he opened his eyes again, he looked full of vigor. “Why did you save me?”

“We’re even! You didn’t hurt me either—you saved me from Cang Xie!” A’Luo said, adding wood to the fire.

“Aren’t you afraid that once I wake up I’ll kill you? Or use you to threaten Liu Jue?” Chu Nan asked slowly. “I’ve sworn I will kill him!”

A’Luo’s heart lurched—was Chu Nan a wolf in sheep’s clothing? She kept her tone as calm as she could: “You’ll fight him fair and openly, won’t you?”

Chu Nan thought of his elder brother, who had died by Liu Jue’s sword, thought of the pain of his kingdom’s fall, and said bitterly, “Against him, I’ll use any means necessary!”

A’Luo fell silent: “Seems I saved the wrong person. But I don’t regret it either—I no longer owe you anything.”

The branches crackled and burned. The poisonous insects feared her, and A’Luo, reassured, leaned against a tree and closed her eyes to sleep. Chu Nan watched her somewhat haggard face; the mountain nights were cold, so he stood, lifted A’Luo, and held her by the fire to watch her sleep. Looking at her, his gaze slowly softened, and a quiet, sweet peace settled in his heart.

At dawn, A’Luo woke to the smell of something fragrant. Chu Nan glanced at her: “It’ll be ready soon!”

He was roasting fish. A’Luo, feeling hungry, said, “I’m going to wash my face at the stream!” Chu Nan didn’t stop her. A’Luo walked to the stream; the forest by day was different from the forest by night, full of life everywhere, birds singing, flowers fragrant. She glanced back at Chu Nan sitting with his back to her, roasting fish, then looked toward Black Wind Fortress—her heart had already flown there. Chu Nan was fine now—could she outrun him if she tried?

“You missed your chance—there’s no way you’re getting away now,” Chu Nan’s voice came flatly. “The fish is ready, come eat.”

A’Luo sighed and asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“Right here on this cliff, waiting for Liu Jue to find us!”

A’Luo said nothing more and walked back to eat the fish.

Chu Nan handed her a banana leaf, the fish’s head and tail already removed, leaving only the plump body: “Eat carefully, not sure how many bones there are.”

A’Luo blinked, then lowered her head and ate quietly. Chu Nan smiled: “Are you touched? I have plenty more tricks like this for coaxing young girls!”

A’Luo said, “Hmph,” and added, “Not as good as Liu Jue—he’d have picked out every bone before giving it to me!”

Chu Nan’s expression darkened: “Is that so? Then why are you still eating it?”

“Gotta eat my fill so I have the energy to watch you two fight!”

“You mean watch how Liu Jue dies by my sword!” Chu Nan said fiercely.

Ming Yin, leading the Black-Robed Cavalry and soldiers, finally found them and sent up a signal. Liu Jue personally led twenty thousand troops to surround the cliff.

Looking down from the heights, every night the mountainside was dotted with torchlight. A’Luo watched, delighted, her eyebrows lifting with joy, until Chu Nan gave an angry roar: “Laugh again and I’ll kill you!” Only then did she quiet down and sit still.

Every day, two soldiers carried up various supplies—food, clothing, daily necessities. One day they even hauled up a gilded, carved chamber pot; the soldier who brought it up said, “The Marshal instructs: if young master Chu is willing, he can send men to build two rooms on the cliff right away. Young master may stay as long as he likes, until he’s willing to release the princess.”

A’Luo laughed so hard she had to hold her stomach. Chu Nan suddenly grew irritable and kicked the chamber pot flying, saying to the soldier, “Tell Liu Jue to come up here. Alone.”

A’Luo stopped laughing, her eyes not on Chu Nan but following the soldier’s descent down the mountain. Chu Nan strode over, grabbed her chin, and forcibly turned her head: “Look at me! Tell me—if Liu Jue came up here and saw you and me being intimate, what expression would he have?” His eyes were bloodshot, flashing with a beast-like light, utterly terrifying. A’Luo’s heart sank—was Chu Nan really going to… Not caring whether she could win against him, she lifted her leg and kicked at him.

Chu Nan sneered and blocked it: “Know your limits!” His hand had already reached her collar.

A’Luo closed her eyes and said quietly, “You won’t hurt me.”

Chu Nan’s hand trembled: “Why not? Liu Jue destroyed my kingdom, killed my elder brother—why shouldn’t I hurt the woman he loves most!”

“Because you’ve never hurt me, not once. From the moment you took me, you never actually harmed me.” A’Luo, eyes closed, spoke calmly. “No matter how much trouble I caused, you’d get angry, sure, but you never actually struck me… You shielded me from the rain with your own back, you let me go instead of making me a hostage of Chen Guo, and even here in this forest, whatever game you hunted, the best always went to me… Kill me now, if you want—if it will ease the hatred in your heart, let me die in his place. I’ll give myself back to you!”

Something jolted in Chu Nan’s mind, and he stared at her fixedly. These days spent wandering the mountains had left her even more haggard. He couldn’t help remembering countless nights when, afraid she’d catch cold, he’d carefully held her as she slept. Curled up in his arms, she’d murmur softly and sweetly in her sleep, like a docile little rabbit, only to wake and curse him out for holding her. His heart ached, and reckless laughter echoed across the cliff.

He stopped laughing, his face turning grave: “You’re wrong. I’ve long since regretted it—regretted not listening to my brother’s order to take you hostage. If it weren’t for that, that night I wanted to let you go… If I’d been at Huaicheng, I never would have hastily retreated and abandoned the city, letting Liu Jue take the strategic stronghold of Huaicheng! Now that I’ve taken you, I’m simply waiting for today, for Liu Jue to come up this mountain alone, to threaten him with you as a hostage, to make him worry over you so he’ll die by my blade! I haven’t hurt you because—even as ruthless as I, Chu Nan, am—I would never stoop to killing a defenseless woman! Today, you’ll watch Liu Jue die before your eyes!”

A’Luo opened her mouth to speak, but Chu Nan had already reached out and sealed her acupoint. “I’m sorry, Qingluo. What I can’t have, he won’t get either. I will kill him—no one can stop me!”

Liu Jue slowly climbed the mountain, his broad black robe cinched with a jade belt, the mountain wind stirring his handsome face into a brilliant smile, as if he were going to meet a lover rather than face a life-or-death battle. He was finally going to see her—Liu Jue couldn’t help the joy welling up in his heart, and he paid Chu Nan no mind at all.

Reaching the top, Chu Nan stood casually beside A’Luo, sword in hand, and smiled at him: “I’ve long wanted another match with you. This woman is merely bait.”

Liu Jue didn’t answer, only looked at A’Luo—thinner and dirtier, yet he couldn’t look at her enough. He frowned, his eyes flashing with impatience, as if he resented Chu Nan standing there, keeping him from her side. His grip on his sword tightened.

A’Luo smiled at him too, opening her mouth but unable to say a word. Liu Jue in her eyes was truly devastatingly handsome, born to look good in anything—though Zili was also very good-looking, more refined even than him, and Chu Nan too, more rugged and masculine than him. Why had she fallen for him? A’Luo forgot where she was, forgot the danger of the situation—from the moment she’d seen Liu Jue, her heart had begun to race, her eyes and heart filled with only him, deaf to everything else, standing there numbly, her eyes seeming to look at Liu Jue and yet seeing nothing at all. Liu Jue’s heart clenched at the sight, and he smiled even more brilliantly: “Harm her by even a fraction, and I’ll return it tenfold on you!”

“Good,” Chu Nan laughed. “I know you didn’t fight at full strength last time. That Prince Li wanted to destroy Chen and unify the realm isn’t your fault. This war was started by Chen and Xia overreaching themselves. I abducted the princess out of lust for her beauty—this fight is one Ning Guo can wage with a clear conscience. That young, gentle-seeming Prince Li has fooled the whole world!”

Liu Jue said flatly, “Are you saying you think he indulged you in taking A’Luo?”

Chu Nan lifted his chin: “After the battle at Meishan, I stopped underestimating you. You must have guessed—why go to such lengths for him anyway?”

“You’ve only seen a glimpse, not the whole picture. His love for A’Luo is no less than mine!” Liu Jue’s smile didn’t fade. “Let A’Luo go—it’s distracting me!”

“Ha!” Chu Nan laughed loudly. “You think I actually want a fair fight? I’m using her as a hostage, plain and simple.”

“Then what do you want?” Liu Jue asked calmly.

Yes—what did he want? Chu Nan smiled darkly: “Nothing much. First I’ll cut off her hand, then fight you. If you win quickly, she won’t quite die. If you can’t beat me, well, then you can just watch her die.”

Liu Jue stepped back, studying Chu Nan carefully. The corner of his mouth curved into a smile: “Never mind then, forget the fight. I’ll call up the archers and have her shot dead outright—spares me the grief of watching, and she’ll die quicker too. I’ll do it myself. Trust me, my aim isn’t bad!”

Chu Nan’s thick brows knit tightly, glaring at Liu Jue, then glancing at A’Luo. With an eerie smile, he actually swung his sword down. Liu Jue was shocked: “Stop!”

Chu Nan laughed wildly and withdrew his sword: “And here I thought you really couldn’t bear it!” Deep hatred showed in his eyes—this man had killed his elder brother and destroyed his kingdom. “Liu Jue, will it be you who dies, or her?”

A’Luo came back to herself, her eyes calm, looking at Liu Jue with an inward sigh—if Chu Nan had wanted to kill her, he’d have done it long ago. Why act now?

“If I die, your brother won’t come back to life either, and Chen Guo can never be restored,” Liu Jue said slowly.

“Yes, I know,” Chu Nan said, pain in his heart, glancing at A’Luo, then raising his voice: “Come then. If you want to save her, fight me first! If you die by my sword, I’ll take her with me!”

Liu Jue looked toward A’Luo, and their eyes met, locking together as if glued. Chu Nan gritted his teeth and struck first, his sword flashing toward Liu Jue. A’Luo’s eyes flickered with the gleam of the blade and a flash of terror. Liu Jue smiled faintly, parried with a turn of his body, and swung his sword out like a mountain breeze sweeping toward Chu Nan.

Chu Nan gathered himself fully and met the blow with a great shout. Both men’s skills were formidable. Before long, A’Luo’s eyes blurred, seeing only two shadows leaping back and forth, the clash of blades ringing out in sharp, clear notes.

Suddenly Liu Jue’s swordplay shifted, a chilling killing intent unfurling. His master had once said the Flying Snow technique was not to be used except as an absolute last resort—it was too vicious; once one reached the seventh level, using it meant death or injury for the opponent. Chu Nan had the advantage in inner strength. His short sword unleashed blossom after blossom of blade-flowers, every strike a killing move. The two traded blows, neither with a certain winning stroke. A’Luo didn’t want Chu Nan to die, and feared even more that Liu Jue would be hurt—standing to the side watching, her nerves were stretched to their absolute limit.

Chu Nan kept feeling that Liu Jue’s technique resembled that of the masked man he’d crossed swords with several times before. Something stirred in his mind, and he spun and leapt into the air, his short sword whistling down from above. Liu Jue, natural as the night, raised his hand to block it—Chu Nan, familiar with the move, was about to use the same technique he’d used to strike the masked man last time, more than half-confident it would land. But in that split second, he glanced at A’Luo. Seeing the terror in her eyes, her gaze fixed entirely on Liu Jue, with not a trace of himself in it—an endless well of pain spread through his heart. His strike slowed.

At that moment, Liu Jue’s sword was already coming naturally toward him. Chu Nan looked at A’Luo and paid it no mind, his eyes seeming full of longing, of despondency, of release, as his body met the blade. Liu Jue’s long sword, unable to pull back in time, drove straight into Chu Nan’s body. He froze, his grip loosening. Chu Nan’s self-sacrificing abandonment of his own strike left him utterly stunned.

Chu Nan staggered a few steps, sword still in him, and steadied himself. He looked down at the blade in his chest, gave a great shout, and pulled it out. His body slowly slumped to the ground.

Liu Jue rushed to A’Luo, released her sealed acupoint, and pulled her tightly into his arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps: “A’Luo, A’Luo!”

A’Luo’s throat tightened. She wrapped her arms around Liu Jue’s waist, closed her eyes, and breathed in his warmth. She wanted to say something to him but didn’t know what, so she just held his waist tighter, unwilling to let go.

Chu Nan lay on the ground, his blood nearly drained. He looked up at the leisurely white clouds in the sky, and a strange peace settled over his heart—so waiting for death wasn’t such a painful thing after all. All those ambitions and desires seemed to vanish completely in this moment. A bitter smile touched his lips—so even someone as ruthless as him could have moments of tenderness. For her sake, he no longer had any heart left to contest the world.

A’Luo suddenly thought of Chu Nan, pushed away from Liu Jue, and ran over. Liu Jue was startled but didn’t stop her. A’Luo knelt down and smiled at Chu Nan: “Thank you.”

Her voice was already choked with tears, which fell drop by drop onto Chu Nan’s face.

“My princess… go home. You… you really are beautiful…” Chu Nan looked at her and said softly, “That night… I could… never forget… your smile…”

A’Luo, hands trembling, closed those wild, untamed eyes. A trace of moisture clung to her fingers. She sat there in a daze—Chu Nan… if only he’d been crueler to her, if only he hadn’t been good to her, if only… how much better that would have been!

Liu Jue walked slowly over and gently pulled her into his embrace: “Let’s give him a proper burial.” A’Luo finally broke into sobs. All the longing, all the suffering of these past months, poured out with her tears. Liu Jue murmured her name over and over, letting her clutch his robe and hold on tight.

The mountain wind blew. A’Luo, exhausted from crying, fell asleep leaning against Liu Jue.

Holding her, Liu Jue didn’t move, sitting on the cliff with his eyes closed, finally letting his body relax—she was in his arms at last, his nerves finally easing. He felt so content he wanted to fall asleep too.

Xuan Yi and Ming Yin, after waiting a long while, finally couldn’t help but climb up the cliff. Seeing Liu Jue sitting on the rocks holding A’Luo, and Chu Nan dead, they let out a breath of relief.

“Give Prince Chu Nan a proper burial,” Liu Jue said without turning around, his voice flat.

Soldiers climbed up and carefully carried away Chu Nan’s body.

A’Luo didn’t know how long she’d slept. When she woke, thinking it was still Chu Nan holding her, she struggled hard: “Pervert!”

“Who are you cursing?” Liu Jue chuckled softly.

A’Luo froze, looked up to see Liu Jue’s smiling face, stunned for a long moment, then glanced to the side—empty. She reached out and gave Liu Jue’s face a hard twist.

“Ow, gently!” Liu Jue yelped.

A’Luo sighed and buried her head in his chest: “It’s not a dream!”

Liu Jue’s heart ached with tenderness. “I’m here. It’s not a dream!”

A’Luo finally looked up at Liu Jue after a long while: “You buried him? Let’s go home!”

Liu Jue held her close: “Are you touched?”

A’Luo wrapped her arms around his neck and suddenly bit him: “Yes!”

“And what about me? I brought twenty thousand men to fight one man!”

“Would you really not have brought your men to fight him?”

“At the Yellow Water Gorge battle, His Majesty said he likes to overwhelm the few with the many!” Liu Jue suddenly paused, his smile fading, his gaze drifting to the distant mountains. “A’Luo, I was moved by someone too, once. We both kept it from you without meaning to—all along, the two of us competed and schemed against each other, each harboring our own feelings, both wanting you.” He paused, releasing his hold on her. “Do you remember when we came back from the valley, and Zili said he’d make you a princess so the old rule about you having to enter the mausoleum to become his consort would no longer apply? That’s not actually the whole story…”

Liu Jue slowly told her the truth—that Zili had chosen to fetch the ice spring water to save her and taken the dragon whip’s lash for it. A’Luo stood up, looking at the green expanse filling the mountains and valleys—Zili’s smile, Zili’s sorrow, all those memories sweeping past her heart alongside that handsome figure, stirring up an ache deep inside. She wanted to cry but couldn’t, only felt a dull, heavy sorrow. Behind her, Liu Jue’s clear voice rang out: “If you’ve changed your mind, A’Luo, I won’t blame you. I want you to see your own heart clearly and truly, and marry the one you most want to marry.”

The one she most wanted to marry? A’Luo stood facing the wind—she was a soul who had crossed time and space to arrive here, searching in this strange world for family, love, and a place to belong. She’d been afraid of this unfamiliar world, naturally longing to be cared for and cherished. Zili was the first man here who had been good to her. “These past months living together, Chu Nan is someone easily provoked to anger, but rough as he seemed, there was tenderness in him too. He never truly hurt me, and I’m sincerely grateful for that. I don’t know why in the end he met your blade, but I saw the look in his eyes at the very last—those wild eyes carried both resentment and sorrow, and it moved me.”

“You were moved by him? And what about Zili?” Liu Jue stood behind her, his tone carrying a hint of reproach.

“Zili is different, do you understand?” A’Luo turned to face him. “I was moved because Chu Nan, even standing on the enemy’s side, protected me. Several times he could have used me as a hostage and chose not to. As for Zili…” A’Luo smiled faintly. “Would you really have me marry him just because of what he sacrificed?”

Liu Jue tilted his head—he told himself it was the sunlight making his eyes sting as he looked at A’Luo, the sun too bright. After a long moment he said, “Who told you to be such an ungrateful white-eyed wolf that can’t be tamed no matter how well it’s fed!”

A’Luo pouted: “Says who? On the day of the great snow, the white-eyed wolf took one look at the crabapple blossoms filling the courtyard and refused to budge!”

Liu Jue pulled her into his arms: “Zili, he…”

“Tsk tsk, I choose Zili and you’re not even jealous? I really have to wonder if you love me at all—a husband who doesn’t get jealous is no good husband!” A’Luo cut him off. She knew she owed Zili a debt she could never repay in this lifetime; every year on the day of heavy snow would be a sleepless night for her. All she could do was live as happily as she could.

Liu Jue laughed softly: “Yes. Actually, I already knew what your choice would be, but I still wanted you to choose, just once. If you’d chosen wrong, I would have… You’ve talked all this time, but you’ve never once said you were moved by me.”

A’Luo leaned lazily into his arms, blinking: “If you’re a bit better to me, I suppose I could consider being moved by you too, my Prince!”

Liu Jue couldn’t help bursting into laughter, and carried her down the mountain in his arms.