The second year of Longxing, second month. Liu Jue led the great army back to the capital in triumph.

Zili personally rode out twenty li beyond the city walls to greet them. From afar he saw the procession approaching. His gaze fixed intently on the palanquin in the middle of the column. Closer, closer still. Zili heard the sound of his own heart pounding—thump, thump—each beat forming into an unspoken name he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. His fists, hidden in his wide sleeves, clenched tighter, as he forced himself to keep his composure.

The procession slowly came to a stop. Liu Jue rode up beside the palanquin and lifted the curtain. A’Luo smiled, lowering her head as she stepped down. Zili watched him lead her over, walking until they stood before him. Before they could kneel in greeting, he had already reached out and pulled A’Luo up, smiling as he looked her over from head to toe: “Prince Pingnan, no need for such formality. Thin as a scrawny monkey—A’Luo, come into the palace with big brother!”

At the words “into the palace,” A’Luo, remembering what Zili had done for her, felt her body visibly shudder. Zili, pretending not to notice, said with a smile, “Prince Pingnan, if you’re tired, you may rest for a month before the wedding, or if…”

“Your Majesty, how could I possibly be tired? Thinking of how I fought for our great Ning dynasty, and of Your Majesty’s boundless imperial grace, my spirits are already restored!” Liu Jue said, looking straight at A’Luo, word by word.

“Oh, is that so, An Guo…” Zili glanced sideways at him, a teasing look crossing his face.

“Ha ha!” A’Luo burst out laughing, her heart seeming to relax at last.

Zili looked at her tenderly: “No day like the present—tomorrow…”

Liu Jue cut in before he could finish: “Thank you for Your Majesty’s gracious decree. Tomorrow, I, Liu Jue, will personally come to escort the princess to the mansion for our wedding!” Without waiting for Zili to respond further, he turned and called out loudly, “Tomorrow the Marshal weds the princess—all generals, if you don’t mind, please come to the mansion for a cup of wedding wine!”

Zili smiled and shook his head: “A’Luo, let’s go.”

A’Luo glanced at Liu Jue, then broke into a smile: “I’ve gotten so much thinner, big brother!”

Zili said, “I know. I’ve had a lot of good food prepared…”

A’Luo had meant to change the subject, but when Zili picked up on it so readily, she felt an inexplicable pang of sorrow in her heart. Still, she kept a cheerful smile on her face, chatting with Zili about amusing stories from Xia Guo the whole way.

Entering the palace, Zili led A’Luo by the hand to Yuhua Hall: “Stay here one more night. Tomorrow, you’ll be married into the Marshal’s household!”

“Mm,” A’Luo lowered her head; she still couldn’t bring herself to meet Zili’s eyes.

“Look at me, A’Luo.” Zili said with a faint smile: “Don’t worry. Big brother is just big brother, not the King of Ning. You don’t need to be so nervous your hands are sweating.”

A’Luo wiped her hands on her clothes, her heart hesitant. Seeing Zili again, she felt she had so much she wanted to say to him, yet didn’t know where to begin. After turning over countless thoughts along the way, she finally decided to say nothing at all.

“Big brother takes back what he said before. I want you to be happy, truly happy, A’Luo. Don’t be afraid of me,” Zili said softly.

She suddenly looked up, her eyes glimmering—Zili! Her heart ached, and her eyes reddened. She lowered her head, paused, then looked up again and finally smiled: “Big brother!”

Zili let out a breath of relief: “That’s more like it! Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow you’ll be the most beautiful bride there is!” He turned to leave, then paused, his gaze settling deeply on A’Luo: “I still can’t help wanting to know, A’Luo—you don’t need to be afraid, big brother won’t…” Zili’s face carried that familiar faint smile from before: “Tell me now—back then, did you ever have feelings for me?”

Such a familiar smile, such a familiar look in his eyes—those deep eyes once again held that faint melancholy that had always ached her heart. A’Luo’s heart trembled, and she stepped back, murmuring, “You want to know?” So he still wanted to uncover that secret buried deep in her heart.

“Yes!” Zili’s eyes held resolve.

“Flowers worth plucking should be plucked while you can—better to cherish the one before your eyes! Big brother, Sister Tianlin truly loves you with all her heart.” What was past was past; what mattered now was what lay ahead. A’Luo’s eyes were clear.

Zili gazed deeply at A’Luo: “Tomorrow, you’ll… be married…”

After a long silence, Zili heard the words he had wanted to know, and would spend the rest of his life regretting having asked. “Her elaborate hairstyle now loosened and rearranged, her light makeup freshly done, red mist and green haze veiling her graceful form, drifting threads unsettled in the breeze. After the music and songs faded and the wine’s haze slowly cleared, in the quiet courtyard under the bright moon. Better never to have met than to meet and then part—was it love, or something like indifference?… That night after the Crown Prince’s banquet, after big brother left, this poem came to my mind.” A’Luo said softly, walking slowly into the hall. “Tomorrow, A’Luo will bid big brother farewell at the golden hall!”

Zili stood frozen outside the hall as if struck by lightning. A voice inside him cried out—she had. She’d had feelings for him! Back then, her heart had held him! She’d known his forbearance, his suffering, his hatred; she’d known he had to become the King of Ning, had to become emperor of the realm, had to marry the Chancellor Gu’s daughter and would have other women after her, one after another… And so she’d let Liu Jue into her heart instead, scrubbing away every trace of feeling for him, never to look back.

Zili could no longer hold his smile. The throne was already in his grasp, the whole realm within reach—so why did he feel this hollowness, this sense of having nothing to hold onto?

He walked slowly away from Yuhua Hall, step by step. Gain and loss—sometimes the distance between them was no more than a hair’s breadth. One step back, and in that space of ambiguity, mountains upon mountains stretched between.

From nearby Yufeng Palace drifted the soft sound of a zither: “Oh, such a beauty, wandering leisurely, indulging herself. Her spirit has fled and does not return, her form withers as she dwells alone…”

Zili stopped in his tracks: “Bring me the flute.”

The flute’s notes rose, winding and mournful, even more sorrowful than the zither. Gu Tianlin slowly stopped her hands, letting the flute’s sound cry alone. She sighed softly, rose from the zither. The flute suddenly stopped. She listened again—it truly had ceased. Tianlin stood in a daze.

“Why has the Empress stopped playing?”

Gu Tianlin turned with a start. Zili stood there, smiling faintly at her. “Tomorrow A’Luo marries. I would trouble the Empress to help dress her. She must make Prince Pingnan’s breath catch at the sight of her. Mm, and if the Empress manages this, I shall play a tune of ‘The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate’ in thanks!”

What was he saying? Gu Tianlin didn’t respond, standing there in a daze, and by the time she came to herself, Zili had already left. Her legs gave way and she sat down on the ground; the attendants, startled, rushed to help her up. Gu Tianlin waved them off, tears streaming down her face—had he really said he would play “The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate”?

Leaving Yufeng Palace, the smile had already vanished from Zili’s face. He remembered what he’d said to A’Luo on his wedding night. “…I looked at Gu Tianlin, so shy and uncertain, waiting like every new bride for her husband’s affection, both anxious and joyful. For the strength and support she can give me, I must cherish her too. Having married her, I will take her under my wing. How could I let my father’s wishes go to waste, how could I hurt a woman who has given her whole heart and body to me?”

Zili looked out at the elegant halls scattered throughout the valley. In the future, all manner of women would come to live within these walls, all waiting for his favor, all to bear him heirs. He looked back toward Yufeng Palace—inside was a woman devoted to him, waiting to love him. She and her family had both supported him, depended on him. He looked again toward Yuhua Hall, and said quietly, “A’Luo, now I want you to be happy. As long as you’re happy… if I’m good to Tianlin, to the women of my harem… will you, seeing it, be happier for it?”

The truest pain, it turned out, wasn’t watching her fall in love with someone else, regretting the past. The truest pain was completion—smiling as you saw it through. Taking this bitter fruit and treating it as a delicacy, savoring its praised sweetness day after day.

Zili walked into Yulong Palace. Dismissing all attendants, he took out a bottle of wine and drank alone, slowly, choking on it several times. He wiped the wine from his lips with his hand; the wine stains on his robe had already soaked deep, drop by drop. He rubbed at them with trembling hands, never quite able to clean them off. Suddenly he noticed another wet patch on his robe—just as he reached up, the back of his hand felt cold. Zili froze. Was he crying without even realizing it?

The eighth day of the second month. Prince Anqing’s mansion was in an uproar.

“How does this robe look on me?” Prince Anqing changed this way and that, never quite satisfied.

Qing Ying held back a laugh: “My lord! Today is young master’s wedding!”

“But it’s been so long since I’ve seen A’Luo, I need to make a good impression!”

“The princess won’t even see you. Once the ceremony’s done, she goes straight into the bridal chamber. And it’s not you who lifts the veil!”

Prince Anqing froze, then suddenly shook his head: “I don’t believe it. Let’s make a bet—go, spread the word, set up a wager!”

Liu Jue came in beaming: “Father! How do I look today, son?”

“A’Luo won’t even see you!” Prince Anqing, watching his son—who commanded armies of thousands with perfect composure—now grinning like an idiot, felt a flash of irritation.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, go on, go on! They’re waiting for you at the palace!” Prince Anqing shoved his son out the door with both hands, his face blooming into a smile again. “Qing Ying, now that A’Luo’s been made a princess, I don’t have to call Chancellor Li my in-law anymore, do I?”

“My lord, he’s still the princess’s father!”

“…”

Red candles flickered, the bustling noise had died down. A’Luo rather enjoyed all this busy, tense ceremony. She finally understood why weddings needed to be so lively—it was to announce to everyone that she was his wife, and he was her husband.

Liu Jue’s features were already achingly familiar to her. But thinking of him coming to lift her veil, she still couldn’t help looking forward to that moment when the red silk would part and their eyes would meet.

The door was gently pushed open, and a chorus of congratulations rang out in the room: “Congratulations, my lord!”

A’Luo’s heart skipped a beat. The corner of her mouth curved into a smile.

Liu Jue’s brows lifted with joy, he patted his own face—his cheeks ached from smiling so much, yet he couldn’t stop. The palace had sent a bottle of imperial wine as a gift from Prince Li, and an attendant stood by under royal order to see him drink it all—fiery frontier liquor. Chancellor Gu came to offer congratulations, saying Gu Tianxiang had already sent a bottle of “Traveler’s Intoxication,” today he must drink it down as a token of his sincere wishes—he laughed and drank it all. Cheng Shiyue came running with her son in her arms, laughing as she brought wine she’d carried back from Xia Guo—he laughed and drank that too. All the soldiers and generals raised their bowls to toast him, and he refused none of them!

The old man watched him happily, then leaned in and said mischievously in his ear: “Everyone’s betting you won’t even get to see A’Luo tonight. Your old man loves you, so I’m letting you know!”

Liu Jue laughed: “Father, you really do dote on your son. Did you place a bet too?”

Prince Anqing froze, then cursed with a laugh: “You little brat!” He shook his head and walked off, muttering under his breath: “A thousand taels, betting you won’t see her. Qing Ying! Liu Ying! Xuan Yi! And Ming Yin too—take the brothers and go toast your master!”

Trying to set me up? Liu Jue’s smile only grew brighter. “Come, brothers, drink! Do you know what it means to drink a thousand cups without getting drunk? Tonight I’ll show you!”

“…”

“All of you go on,” Liu Jue said, still smiling, giving orders. He’d drink a while, then slip outside and use his inner energy to make himself vomit it back up. Drink more? Even three days and three nights of drinking wouldn’t put him down! He smiled smugly to himself.

The people in the room withdrew. Liu Jue slowly walked toward the figure seated on the bed. She sat quietly at the bedside, motionless. Liu Jue watched her for a moment, imagining how beautiful A’Luo must be beneath the veil. Thinking that she would soon be his, his heart swelled with joy pressing against his chest. He called out very gently: “Have you been waiting long? A’Luo!” For a moment he couldn’t bear to lift the veil, and instead kissed her cheek through the red silk.

A’Luo still didn’t move.

Liu Jue chuckled: “So you get shy too? Let me see, are you blushing?” His hand moved gently, lifting the veil—and his expression instantly changed: “You! Why is it you!”

Beneath the veil, Qing Ying glared at him, on the verge of tears—he’d been struck mute and unable to move. Liu Jue, furious, reached out and released his acupoint: “Who did this? Where’s A’Luo?”

Qing Ying said miserably, “The princess is somewhere in the mansion anyway. The old lord says, you’re to find her—if you haven’t found her by dawn, he wins the bet!”

“I—I— old man!” Liu Jue’s teeth ground in fury. Even on his son’s wedding night, his father had to stir up trouble? His face darkened terrifyingly. “And who else was in on this?”

“Everyone except me!” Qing Ying declared.

“What?” Liu Jue didn’t understand.

Qing Ying backed away two steps and suddenly shouted, “Master, everyone had a hand in this except me!” Then he leapt up with a “whoosh” and bolted out the door.

Liu Jue, gnashing his teeth in fury, hurled the red veil to the ground. Except him? That meant it wasn’t just the old man—the Black-Robed Cavalry too, and—His Majesty? Cheng Shiyue? Gu Tianxiang? And… A’Luo?! Well then, everyone had banded together to mess with him?! Liu Jue wanted to murder someone.

Prince Anqing walked into the bridal chamber, alternately making promises and pleading. A’Luo giggled and nodded in agreement, removed the veil, and changed into the wedding gown, watching with amusement as Xuan Yi carried Qing Ying in. She watched the maids dress Qing Ying in bridal attire, personally placed the veil over his head, and whispered to him, “Remember to tell me what Liu Jue’s face looked like when he lifted the veil, okay?” Then she followed the old prince out of the bridal chamber.

Finding it all great fun, A’Luo asked curiously, “Where should we hide? Somewhere we can actually see his expression!”

Cheng Shiyue, beaming, emerged from around the corridor, smiled at A’Luo, and suddenly struck her acupoint: “The bridal chamber, of course. It’s the safest spot—and you’ll see every expression on his face!”

Prince Anqing’s old face broke into a wide grin: “Yes, yes, this is the best spot! Heh heh!”

A’Luo glared at the two of them, inwardly cursing herself for being tricked. Helpless, she was carried by the two of them back to the bridal chamber and hidden behind the screen. The moment Liu Jue entered, he’d sent the maids away, his eyes and heart fixed entirely on Qing Ying in bridal dress on the bed—he never even noticed there was someone behind the screen. A’Luo, listening to the commotion, was in agony, wanting to laugh but not daring to make a sound, thinking bitterly, this insult will not go unanswered! Old fox, you’re done for!

Liu Jue stormed out of the bridal chamber and ran through Songfeng Hall, but everyone seemed to have vanished, no doubt fearing his temper would flare. Liu Jue stopped, glanced back suspiciously at Songfeng Hall, and a look of realization crossed his face. Slowly, unhurriedly, he made his way back to the bridal chamber. He listened carefully, then walked straight to behind the screen. The corner of his mouth curved into a smile.

A’Luo was staring right at him. Liu Jue reached out and patted her cheek: “So you trust them more than me? Now you know what happens? You were in on it too, weren’t you?”

A’Luo blinked, trying her best to look innocent.

Liu Jue scooped her up and laughed loudly: “Tonight I’m lighting every lantern in the house!”

A’Luo blushed. Liu Jue set her down on the bed and reached out to release her sealed acupoint. A’Luo cried out: “Get out!”

“No!” Liu Jue leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I know they’re all hiding around the house—I’m not afraid!”

A’Luo buried her face hard against him: “I am!”

Laughter erupted from all around the room, and a few figures dropped down from the rafters: “Master, we’re convinced. Thank you, Master!”

“Don’t thank me, go collect your silver from the old man before he runs off!”

“Yes!”

Finally, the room grew quiet. Liu Jue said softly, “No need to be afraid now!”

A’Luo looked at him, a sense of peaceful happiness settling in her heart, and a charming smile slowly curved at the corner of her mouth.

Liu Jue’s fingers traced gently around that smile: “What are you thinking?”

A’Luo reached out to touch his face, the fine straight bridge of his nose, his sharply defined features. She said softly, “I was thinking—which one is the real you?” Memories flickered past like scenes from a film…

In the peach blossom grove, he’d been furious: “Looking at you, you’re no proper lady of good family. Whichever household’s maid you are, if you were in my household, you’d have been beaten into proper manners long ago.”

At the mid-autumn palace banquet, he’d been radiant: “So you’re the Third Miss of Chancellor Li’s family—finally found you.”

On the fragrant pleasure boat on the Duning River, he’d been shamelessly cheeky: “…This lord is an extremely responsible man. Being alone with the Third Miss deep in the night—how could I let some ignorant child ruin the Third Miss’s reputation? The Third Miss isn’t even of age yet—I couldn’t bring myself to do something that would ruin someone for life.”

At the Crown Prince’s night banquet, he’d rushed to her rescue, escorting her back to the Chancellor’s residence, gentle and silent.

Riding horses by the river, they’d made a bet, and Liu Jue, lazily at ease, had said: “Even if I just stood here without moving, you couldn’t push me, hit me, or kick me over.” And she’d found a way to cheat and leave him laughing helplessly in spite of himself.

Ambushed in the eastern outskirts, he’d made his first deeply emotional confession: “Trust me, A’Luo, I’ll be good to you, I’ll protect you, for the rest of our lives.”

In Linnan city, he’d been calm and sincere: “…At first I truly didn’t know I’d come to care for you this deeply. At the peach blossom banquet, I was genuinely moved by Miss Gu’s playing of ‘Pei Lan’… later, painting her portrait at home, I unconsciously drew your eyes onto her face instead… I’ll admit, at first I inserted myself between you and Zili on purpose, just to tease you, to play with you. But somewhere along the way, without realizing it, my heart had already fallen…”

In the mansion, he’d been hurt and upset: “I forgot—three years ago I should have already understood, you have no heart, you’ve always drifted, never giving me a definite answer. You never even lied to me and said you liked me.”

After that act with Zili, he’d been consumed with jealousy: “Fine. He’s shown you such deep feeling, and you were moved. What about me? Did you throw away everything I feel for you into the Duning River?”

To save her, he’d been resolute and decisive: “A’Luo, Zili really has been wonderful to you, you… I can’t watch you die. Even if it meant letting you become his consort, I would… I would agree to it!” And still he’d taken her and fled, without a second thought.

…

A’Luo gazed at Liu Jue tenderly, murmuring, “How can you have so many different sides, so many things about you that move me?”

“Because I’m the only one among the Five Young Masters of Fengcheng who combines everyone’s strengths—dashing, handsome, unrivaled in martial arts, and accomplished in letters—Prince Pingnan!”

A’Luo burst out laughing. She gazed at him, dazed. Crossing over into this world, more than a decade of living here, she’d always been searching for a place where she truly belonged—and it turned out her home was here, in his arms. A’Luo gently reached out and untied Liu Jue’s sash, smiling playfully at him.

Liu Jue rolled over on top of her, opening his eyes to look at A’Luo: “From now on you can only think of me, only love me! Only—you’re mine…”

His voice faded, and his kiss fell deep upon her. “Beauty like jade, wine like jade, drunk, reclined, within the mandarin duck curtains…” Liu Jue reached out and swept the gauze curtain closed, letting a room full of romance settle into stillness.

(The End)