Amidst the chaos and confusion, the night wind blew past my face. I clenched my fist, stood up, and shouted to the crowd: “Imperial Guards, listen up! No one is to be harmed tonight!”

The assassins were few and had no intention of prolonging the battle, already retreating while fighting. The Imperial Guards, locked in combat with the assassins, were startled by such an order, and the black-clad assassins retreated even faster.

“Pursue them quickly,” Xiao Huan’s voice suddenly rang out from behind, not loud but filled with cold authority, “all assassins are to be killed without exception.”

The Imperial Guards hesitated for a moment before pursuing the assassins with all their might. However, in that brief delay, the assassins had already scaled the rockery walls and escaped. The Mirror Pool was located in the northwest corner of the Forbidden Palace. Outside the city wall lay the larger Taiye Pool, and once the assassins took to the water, their traces vanished, making pursuit difficult.

“Cangcang,” a low voice called out near my ear as someone grabbed my sleeve. Xiao Huan coughed lightly, “Your identity as the Master of Fenglai Pavilion cannot be exposed.”

I reached out and slapped away his hand from my sleeve, turning back with a cold smile: “Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty.”

I sneered: “However, sacrificing a few of my disciples to protect my own identity is not something I enjoy doing.”

As the Imperial Guards arrived one after another and scaled the walls in pursuit, I turned and ran in that direction as well.

“Cangcang!” My sleeve was caught a second time. Rising to hold me back, Xiao Huan used great force. He coughed several times before speaking, “Cangcang…”

“Your Majesty,” the chaos had already alerted Stone Yan, the commander of the escort guard who was not usually on duty. He knelt on one knee at the bottom of the steps to report, “We have failed in our duty and lost track of the assassins.”

Looking at Stone Yan below the steps, the anger I had been suppressing suddenly surged. I turned back with another cold smile: “Listen to you? Listen to what? Listen to you say you noticed Fenglai Pavilion sent skilled martial artists who would escape. Or listen to you say leaving now would be too discourteous? Besides these, do you have anything else to say?”

His face grew even paler before me, and he said nothing more.

I bit my lip, broke free from his grip, and quickly descended the steps.

Hurrying through the now-chaotic banquet, I walked toward the exit.

From the moment I saw the Fenglai Pavilion mark on the flying dagger, I broke out in a cold sweat and nearly cursed aloud. Had these people all gone mad? Did they think the Forbidden Palace was a tavern or the Imperial Guards were paper tigers? Given tonight’s situation, the escort guard hadn’t tried their best. Otherwise, no matter if they were the pavilion’s elite, five out of ten would have been carried out horizontally.

As I hurried out while lost in thought, a figure suddenly appeared blocking my path—Duan Jingxue.

Wearing a gauze dress of goose yellow, with brilliant makeup, Duan Jingxue looked straight into my eyes and smiled without bowing: “Your Majesty the Empress.”

Currently, everyone in the courtyard was in chaos, and no one noticed our strange interaction.

Already full of irritation, I had no patience to waste words with this little girl. I sneered: “Duan Jingyi is your sister, isn’t she? Miss Duan Jingxue?”

Still staring at me, Duan Jingxue smiled like a flower: “Your Majesty is wise to remember my sister.”

“I didn’t remember at first, but after seeing someone who loves to act coy and spoiled so often, I finally recalled,” I sneered, “That fifth-ranked Lady Duan in the palace back then didn’t seem to enjoy playing cute as much as Miss Duan does.”

“Does Your Majesty know what happened to my sister after she left the palace?” Duan Jingxue smiled sweetly, “Surely Your Majesty wouldn’t have paid attention to the fate of a mere fifth-ranked consort after she was dismissed from the palace. Then let me tell Your Majesty—my sister, who excelled in both music and painting, who was gentle and virtuous before entering the palace, after leaving, married a merchant twenty years her senior. Three years after her marriage, while pregnant with her second son, she died in childbirth after being kicked in the stomach by her fat and ugly husband. All because he saw her exchange a few words with a cloth delivery boy—once a cast-off woman, always a cast-off woman, to be despised and insulted, even if the one who abandoned her was the Emperor himself.”

With her sweet smile unchanged, Duan Jingxue looked at me: “All these years I’ve been watching, thinking, wondering why those two people could still be so happy together, flying wing to wing. Wondering why among all those who praise the deep love between Emperor and Empress, not one thinks of those women who wasted their youth and left the palace in desolation. Your Majesty, you surely never thought about how miserable those women’s lives were compared to all your current happiness.”

Duan Jingxue continued smiling: “Your Majesty, I very much want to see, to see if this legendary love between Emperor and Empress is truly as undying as they say.” She smiled lightly, “Your Majesty, Eunuch Wu said I look very much like you did in your youth. Losing to a younger version of yourself would be quite an interesting feeling, wouldn’t it?”

She smiled one last time: “Oh yes, Your Majesty, if I were you, I would never neglect His Majesty at a time like this—such a handsome gentleman, there will be many eager to love him.”

Looking at her quietly, I smiled: “Miss Duan, you think I’m jealous of you, and that’s why I’m neglecting His Majesty?” I nodded with a faint smile, “Not bad, quite imaginative.” Meeting her eyes steadily, I smiled and said, “Unfortunately, I don’t recall having the leisure time to be jealous.”

“I have thought about it, thought about those consorts after they left the palace. I know some of them met tragic ends,” I said each word slowly as my smile faded. “But back then, every one of them volunteered, willingly entering the palace. Everyone must choose their path, and once chosen, they should understand what benefits and variables that path might bring. Every woman you speak of as pitiful and helpless walked into the Forbidden Palace on her own feet, and every one of them once schemed and fought for favor in the palace.”

“You want me to feel guilty towards them?” I laughed coldly, “I’m sorry, but I seem to remember that I am the Empress, and it wasn’t me who brazenly tried to steal another’s husband, but rather those pitiful consorts you speak of. So, I will never feel the slightest guilt for having won against them. I’m sorry, but I was born vicious and selfish—I’m neither accustomed to sharing my man with others, nor to being so charitable as to sympathize with everyone miserable.”

I smiled again after speaking: “As for Miss Duan saying she looks like my younger self. I never thought I would lose to my former self… moreover,” I smiled while looking her up and down, “I was much more lovely and beautiful than you back then.”

Suddenly dropping my smile, I stared into her eyes, enunciating each word: “His Majesty is my man. If I want to neglect him, I’ll neglect him; if I want to dote on him, I’ll dote on him. It’s not your place to speak. Like your sister, stay away from my people!”

With that, I moved past her and continued straight ahead.

As we passed shoulders, she suddenly raised her head, all smiles gone, and said word by word: “This isn’t over.”

“Ready when you are,” I sneered without stopping.

I practically flew back to Fenglai Pavilion, bursting into Su Qian’s bedroom with a kick to the door.

Su Qian had changed into pure white robes and was cleaning her flying daggers with an otherworldly air. Seeing me, she smiled slightly: “You’re back?”

“How could I not come back?” I was so angry I wanted to tear this enchantress apart. “That big thing you reported to me about the other day was assassinating in the palace?”

“With so many guests at the Mid-Autumn banquet, news of an assassination attempt certainly couldn’t be suppressed. Rumors will spread quickly,” Su Qian looked quite pleased with herself, “What perfect timing.”

“Perfect my ass!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry in anger, “You crazy woman! Your hidden weapons were poisoned!”

“Of course, hidden weapons should be poisoned,” Su Qian nodded, “Besides, we have the antidote.”

“What good is an antidote! Do you think Brother Xiao’s heart meridians can withstand another poisoning? Even if I cut you up and fed you to him it might not be in time!” I was so angry I started cursing. Earlier at the table when I saw that blue-glowing broken dagger, my breathing nearly stopped—I dared not imagine the consequences if the weapon hadn’t been intercepted.

Su Qian stood up from her chair: “White Master’s heart meridians are damaged to such an extent?”

“If it weren’t for Sect Leader Chen transferring all her internal power to Brother Xiao back then to protect his last breath, he wouldn’t have been able to return,” I glared at her. These details I had gradually pieced together over the years from what Xiao Huan and others had told me.

Xiao Huan always spoke of it lightly. The brutality of that battle could only be learned from others.

I heard it from Zhong Lin’s mouth—a thousand-li battle, hovering between life and death multiple times. At the final moment, blood almost completely drained, and only one breath remained in Xiao Huan’s heart meridians. Chen Luomo stood at the edge of a thousand-zhang cliff and asked him what he wanted to do when it was all over. He smiled then and said just two words: “Capital City.” So Chen Luomo transferred all her internal power, using yin cold internal force to suppress the extreme yang force in Xiao Huan’s body, preserving that last unbroken breath in his heart meridians, sustaining his life until today.

Su Qian’s expression had already changed: “You quarreled with White Master again today?”

I immediately became even more furious: “Hall Master Su, you sent all the assassins, watched them fight back and forth with the escort guard right before our eyes—how could we not quarrel?”

After her expression changed, Su Qian had already returned to her usual ice-cold demeanor: “Very well, if White Master dies, I will take my own life in apology.”

Hearing this made my vision darken further: “Enough, if anyone’s going to die together it won’t be you—don’t try to take advantage of the situation!” I sighed, “It should still be alright. Last year when Li Mingshang went to Yunnan to search for medicine, before leaving he said things would remain stable for five years.”

“No matter how stable, it can’t withstand your torment!” Su Qian’s expression remained blank, “Tell me, why exactly are you angry with White Master this time?”

How did this turn into her questioning me? After a pause, I spoke: “I don’t know.”

Why was it? I couldn’t say clearly.

On the surface, it seemed to be because of Qi Chengliang’s matter—resenting him for being too ruthless and forgetting old friendships, thus leaving the Forbidden City with a cold heart. But there should be other reasons too, right? The helplessness and fear that had been building day by day since his illness this time, seeing him every moment while dreading that I might never see his figure again. When I first heard Zhang Zhuduan say it was Xiao Huan who ordered the investigation of Qi Chengliang, my first thought wasn’t shock, nor did I speak up for Qi Chengliang’s sake. I only vaguely wondered if such bold and hasty reforms were preparations for a hundred years hence. I remained in a daze until returning to Yangxin Hall, seeing him waiting for me under the lamplight, yet not daring to let him see anything amiss, not daring to ask. After asking, if the answer was yes, what then?

Back then bidding him farewell on Tianshan, even having him linger in my sight for one more moment felt like enough. Later when he finally returned, every day was filled with incomparable joy, every day felt like walking on clouds, more perfect than even dreams.

Eight years is a long time, long enough to become an extravagant hope, yet such a long eight years still isn’t enough, not nearly enough.

During those two days, my thoughts had never found peace, becoming increasingly chaotic until finally, finding an excuse, they all poured out at once. Hurriedly sending the children to Fenglai Pavilion, I anxiously went to find him, only to run into Duan Jingxue. Someone I had never paid attention to before suddenly became particularly irritating at that moment. Perhaps Duan Jingxue was right—maybe I was jealous. Anger rushed to my head, and words spilled out mercilessly, impossible to take back. Even when leaving, I still deceived myself, thinking it would be good to take the children away so he could rest quietly for a few days.

“White Master came by,” after a moment of silence, Su Qian spoke, “He came the second day after you moved to the pavilion. That day, White Master came to see me, saying your body hadn’t fully recovered after childbirth and still needed care, giving many instructions about dietary matters.”

She sighed as she continued: “Regarding matters between you two, it’s not my place to say, but don’t keep things bottled up. You’re not the type who can hold things in—when you suppress things too long, they burst out all at once, causing even more harm.”

I forced a smile at her: “You’re something. Brother Xiao finally took the initiative to play riddles with me, giving me a way down, and you pull something like this. Now I have a headache trying to find another way down…”

Su Qian rolled her eyes: “With your thick skin, why do you need a way down?”

“No matter how thick-skinned I am, having a way down is still more comfortable!” I shouted at her angrily.

As the two of us were talking, a black shadow burst through the door, calling out urgently: “Cangcang? Is Cangcang here?”

The voice was clear, the face handsome—it was Hong Qing in his official robes.

I was stunned for a moment, about to ask how he could leave Ying behind to come here when he quickly grabbed my sleeve: “His Majesty fainted in Yangxin Hall after leaving the moon-viewing banquet, Cangcang you…”

Whatever he said after that, I couldn’t hear any more as I rushed out of the room.

My head filled with nothing but a buzzing sound as I rode from Fenglai Pavilion to Xuanwu Gate, then dismounted and rushed to Yangxin Hall. Not bothering to catch my breath, I grabbed Feng Wufu who was standing at the door of the warm chamber: “Where’s Brother Xiao? How is Brother Xiao?”

Feng Wufu’s face showed some confusion, and he immediately frowned: “Shh! Keep your voice down, His Majesty just managed to rest a bit.”

“How did Brother Xiao faint? Has the Imperial Physician come? What did they say?” After firing off these questions in succession, I finally calmed down slightly, seeing Feng Wufu’s continued confusion, I suddenly understood, “Brother Xiao didn’t faint?”

Giving me a reproachful look, Feng Wufu said: “If you make any more commotion, His Majesty will faint even if he hasn’t already—you’re making more noise than a newly arrived palace maid who doesn’t know the rules!”

That Hong Qing fellow, how dare he deceive me!

As the tension released, I realized my hands and feet had gone slightly weak. I let go of Feng Wufu’s clothes and lowered my voice: “Has Brother Xiao gone to sleep?”

“How could he sleep now? He just finished bathing and is resting his eyes.” As Feng Wufu spoke, he gave me another reproachful look, “Wasn’t General Qi’s matter enough? Can’t you let His Majesty have some peace of mind?”

Another one lecturing me, I could only sigh: “Alright, alright, you all can stop—isn’t it enough that I know I was wrong?”

As if he hadn’t expected me to admit my own mistake, Feng Wufu’s expression showed some discomfort. After a pause, he said: “It’s not that everything is your fault—if only your temper weren’t so quick.”

He paused again before continuing: “Regarding Miss Duan’s matter, this old servant wanted to tell Her Majesty about it the other day outside the palace. The first time Miss Duan entered the palace was because Lord Duan came to this old servant’s residence to ask for a favor—it really couldn’t be refused. Later, when Miss Duan entered the palace for the second time, that morning Lord Duan had come to Yangxin Hall with a memorial but left again shortly after with it. Then in the afternoon, His Majesty gave a verbal order allowing Miss Duan to enter the palace for an audience. This old servant dares not inquire about the complexities within. But for Her Majesty to doubt His Majesty because of this, even leaving the palace and taking both young masters and the little princess away—that’s too willful!”

By the last two sentences, Feng Wufu’s voice had become stern again.

He had been attending to Xiao Huan’s daily life since before Xiao Huan ascended to the throne. Though sometimes crafty and greedy, his loyalty and care for Xiao Huan were never in question—he was more like half an elder. In these years of interaction, he scolded me just as freely as an elder would.

“I know, I won’t dare do it again, alright?” I promised him with a sigh, then asked, “Is Brother Xiao in the East Warm Chamber?”

Feng Wufu nodded, adding: “Be gentle when you go in—His Majesty rarely gets to sleep.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll make sure he gets enough sleep tonight, okay?” Promising repeatedly, I quickly went to open the door.

It was very quiet inside. Carefully closing the door behind me, I walked in softly but didn’t dare go too close, stopping some distance from the couch.

Taking a deep breath, well, I’d come in anyway, and as Su Qian said, my skin was thick enough not to need a way down.

He was sleeping, a moon-white thin blanket draped over his legs, his long hair loose from the recent bath. His eyes were closed, his breathing light, the candlelight casting soft shadows on his face.

Still that familiar face, one I could trace in my mind’s eye even with closed eyes, unchanged by time all these years.

Suddenly I remembered long ago, at the One Water Court in Fenglai Pavilion in Jinling, when I had wounded him with my spear and then accidentally entered his room, seeing him sleeping against the bedside.

Thinking back now, I rather admired my past self—even though just one step forward would have made my body rush to embrace him uncontrollably in the next moment, I had somehow managed to stand there calmly for so long.

The thought made me want to laugh at myself: I truly brought this on myself, finding life too peaceful and perfect, insisting on making trouble. In the end, with such beauty before me, I could only look with my eyes.

Slowly, as noiselessly as possible, I moved to the corner of the couch and very carefully sat down.

He wasn’t disturbed. Not taking my eyes from his face, I sat on the couch watching him quietly for a while longer, then gathered my courage, leaned down to grasp his hand that lay outside the thin blanket, and lightly kissed his pale thin lips.

He moved slightly, finally waking, his black eyes still containing traces of sleepiness as he looked at me, his voice still deep: “Cangcang?”

I didn’t answer, lowering my head to hold his hand with both of mine, then looking up into his eyes, taking a deep breath: “I’m sorry, Brother Xiao.”

In all these years, I had never actually looked into his eyes and apologized, never said sorry to him. I always thought some things didn’t need to be said for him to understand, like how I had never stopped loving him, like my remorse after every time I hurt him. While stubbornly thinking he wasn’t honest enough, ignoring his hand reached out time and again, I never considered whether my expression was sufficient.

“I’m sorry,” looking into his eyes, I began, “Everything I said was spoken in anger. I never thought you would use your own body to threaten me. I hit your hand at the moon-viewing banquet earlier—I was so afraid something would happen to you, my mind went blank. I regretted it as soon as I said it. I’ve been afraid to look at your face these many days, not knowing what to say. I’m sorry, Brother Xiao.” Though it was just an apology, I felt the moisture in my eyes becoming uncontrollable, “I’m sorry…”

A slightly cool hand gently caressed my cheek, his voice gentle as always: “It’s alright, Cangcang, I know.”

At his words, all the heaviness that had accumulated these past days seemed to sweep away instantly. My hands moved faster than thought—I embraced him, burying my head in his collar, taking a long breath, and tears flowed down my cheeks, seeping into his clothes.

“Brother Xiao, I’m sorry…” Holding him tightly, tears still flowing, I kept saying, “I left you alone and went away. When you called me, holding my hand, I didn’t even look back, just left like that… I’m sorry…”

“Cangcang, don’t worry.” Holding my shoulders, he kept stroking my head and back, then paused, “What I wanted to say when I held your hand was… don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Still holding me, he lifted my face to look at him, smiling: “Cangcang, I’m fine, don’t cry.”

Still tearful, I stared at him blankly.

He continued smiling gently, looking at me, seeming to sigh lightly as he used his fingertips to gently wipe away the tears from the corners of my eyes: “You don’t need to say sorry so many times…” He smiled again, “I should be the one saying sorry, Cangcang, for making you worry…”

My eyes began to moisten again, but I didn’t let the tears fall this time. My lips curved up high as I threw myself into his embrace once more.

Never had there been a moment more relieved and content. I poked my head out from his embrace and suddenly remembered: “Brother Xiao, what did Duan Jingxue’s father use to pressure you?”

He hadn’t expected me to suddenly ask this, and after a pause, he smiled: “Just a memorial about ritual propriety. If I didn’t want the trouble of reviewing his memorial, I would have to see his daughter.”

“Was it denouncing me for not following inner palace regulations?” I continued asking. These years, frequently going in and out of Xuanwu Gate to Fenglai Pavilion, even done as discreetly as possible, had given those bored Ministry of Rites officials plenty to pick at. I knew they had long wanted to denounce me, but hadn’t expected old Duan Qingsu to use this to force Xiao Huan to see his daughter.

He smiled again but didn’t speak this time, only gently stroking my head.

I had said before that he had never been coerced by anyone. Though appearing gentle, he hated being forced the most. In all these years, even when facing his enemy Chen Luomo, he had always taken the initiative. This time meeting Duan Jingxue, he had been forced—to prevent the Ministry of Rites officials from attacking me en masse, he was forced to see someone he did not need to see. That day after Duan Jingxue left, he had involuntarily shown signs of exhaustion, yet he had still been chatting and smiling with her despite his obvious fatigue.

Slowly tightening my embrace of his body, I pressed my ear against his chest.

A series of footsteps disrupted the rare moment of peace, and Stone Yan’s voice came from the doorway: “Your Majesty, General Qi has arrived.”

Xiao Huan’s body trembled slightly in my embrace, then he spoke: “Please ask General Qi to wait in the rear hall.”

Stone Yan acknowledged softly and went toward the rear hall.

I released my arms from around him, helped him remove the thin blanket covering him, and assisted him to sit up, asking: “Do you need to change clothes?”

He shook his head, then smiled: “Just give me that flute over there.”

An old, worn bamboo flute lay on the table not far away. I picked up the flute and found a dark blue cape to drape over him.

He held the bamboo flute in his hands, lowered his head to smile at me, and took my hand: “Cangcang, come with me.”

Not quite understanding what he intended to do, I nodded, held his hand, and followed him out.

Walking around the corridor with Xiao Huan, I looked up to see a set of stone tables and chairs placed among the star-like blooming orchids in the rear hall.

The Mid-Autumn moonlight poured down like silver water. At the stone table laid with wine and food, a warrior in old clothes but still as steady as a mountain slightly raised his wine pot toward us: “Little Xiao, you’ve come? Did you bring the bamboo flute?”

“How could I dare not bring it when Brother Qi asks?” A soft laugh came from Xiao Huan as he slowly walked toward the stone table, holding my hand.

Raising the corners of his mouth in a smile, Qi Chengliang’s face showed an expression I had never seen before.

Stripped of his usual solemnity and reverence, at this moment he no longer appeared as the famous general who had spent half his life in military service, but rather like a jianghu swordsman waiting for an old friend under the moon.

Slowly approaching the table, Xiao Huan smiled: “With moon and wine, it’s perfect for meeting a gentleman, but I wonder what tune Brother Qi would like to hear today?”

Qi Chengliang burst out laughing: “Little Xiao, when did you become a brothel musician, taking requests from me?”

Though I knew Qi Chengliang and Xiao Huan had known each other for a long time, I hadn’t expected him to suddenly make such a joke, and was somewhat stunned, letting out a confused “Ah?”

Hearing the sound, Qi Chengliang turned his gaze to me, smiling at Xiao Huan: “Little Xiao, is this the young lady?”

“Yes,” Xiao Huan answered with a smile, “This is the young lady I mentioned to Brother Qi.” Holding my hand, he turned to look at me, “Cangcang, this is my good friend, Brother Qi, I’m introducing him to you for the first time today.”

Their tone and manner were both completely relaxed and natural as if I were truly meeting Qi Chengliang for the first time.

For a moment, it felt like returning to those carefree days of traveling the jianghu, when Xiao Huan was still that young man with a gentle smile, and I was still that naive, impulsive girl just starting. Following custom, I cupped my hands in greeting to Qi Chengliang: “Greetings, Brother Qi.”

Qi Chengliang nodded, smiling: “No need for such formality, sister-in-law. Little Xiao, don’t stand there—come, sit down, both of you.”

Xiao Huan smiled: “Alright.” He led me to sit with him on the wooden bench by the stone table.

After sitting down, seeing three large ceramic cups filled with wine on the table, I suddenly became alert and hurriedly spoke: “Brother Xiao can’t drink wine, let me drink in his place!”

Letting out a “pff” of laughter, Qi Chengliang looked at me: “I’m not trying to force your Brother Xiao to drink—what are you so nervous about, young lady?”

Only then did I realize that Qi Chengliang wouldn’t deliberately make things difficult for Xiao Huan. I felt a bit embarrassed: “Well… I just got nervous without thinking…”

Qi Chengliang burst out laughing: “Little Xiao, the young lady cares about you very much.”

Xiao Huan patted my head with a smile: “It’s alright, Cangcang.”

I nodded and leaned closer to him, listening as he and Qi Chengliang began chatting casually about military strategy, martial arts, poetry, and literature, their conversation flowing endlessly yet naturally.

As they talked, unknowingly the moon rose high in the sky. Qi Chengliang drank cup after cup, his eyes growing brighter with each drink, his manner becoming more unrestrained and romantic. Xiao Huan accompanied him, and even his large cup of strong wine gradually emptied.

After downing another cup of wine in one breath, Qi Chengliang set down his cup with a sound, his eyes half-closed, showing signs of intoxication: “Little Xiao, the time is near—play a tune for me on your flute.”

If he hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten—this reminded me that Qi Chengliang’s entire clan was being exiled, scheduled to depart on the sixteenth day of the eighth month. Criminal prisoners were usually escorted out of the capital at dawn when the city gates opened. Now the night was deep, less than two hours remained until dawn.

After a pause, Xiao Huan smiled without speaking, raised the bamboo flute he had been holding all along, and placed it to his lips.

Music flowed from the flute-like water, the melody distant and deep, extremely clear and elegant, echoing in the moonlight.

The moment he heard the flute, Qi Chengliang was slightly stunned, then slowly began tapping the stone table with his hand, keeping rhythm with the music.

The calm and profound melody, like a mirror-like river surface under the moonlight, suddenly changed—as if a thousand li of river water, after twisting and turning, rushed straight into a gorge, its turbulent waves roaring like the wind.

Tapping the rhythm with one hand, Qi Chengliang recited in a low voice: “Long absent from the southern masters, vainly speaking of northern emptiness. On the field with a single hand, still returning my ten thousand hero’s might. Laughing at myself, a grand Han envoy, like the vast river waters, still flowing only east. For now to bow in the nomad’s tent, soon to walk the boatman’s street.”

As the music grew urgent, Qi Chengliang’s recitation came through the night word by word, gradually becoming melodic, passionate as a song: “Yao’s capital, Shun’s land, Yu’s domain, within them surely there must be one or half who shame to serve barbarians. Ten thousand li of rank flesh so vast, where are the heroes of a thousand years? When will this tremendous force breakthrough? Why ask about the Hun’s destiny? The blazing sun shall reign supreme.”

This was a “Water Tune Song Head,” and what Qi Chengliang recited was Chen Liang’s lyrics from the Song Dynasty. The author wrote it to bid farewell to a good friend who was about to embark as envoy to the Jin state. At that time, the Southern Song’s national power was declining, suffering bullying from foreign tribes, yet there wasn’t a single word of sorrow or self-pity in the lyrics—only the heroic spirit of protecting home and country, soaring and sweeping clean.

As the tune ended, Xiao Huan lowered the bamboo flute and coughed lightly.

Qi Chengliang closed his eyes in silence. After a long while, he opened them and spoke, but addressed me: “Young lady, I met Little Xiao fifteen years ago.” He smiled and continued, “At that time, I was still a vice general in Cangzhou, my head full of book learning but only able to drill those crafty old soldiers in a camp of less than two thousand men. So I often went to drink myself drunk in the nearby town. That day I was half drunk when I hazily heard someone nearby playing ‘Water Tune Song Head’ on a flute. Without thinking, I recited the lyrics you just heard in response. As luck would have it, when that flute player heard my recitation, they suddenly changed the tune’s style, forcefully turning a single piece into something with the flavor of clashing armies. When the music stopped, I hurriedly searched for the flute player, only to find a youth in blue clothes sitting in a carriage by the window, smiling at me with a flute in one hand and a medicine box beside him.”

Here, Qi Chengliang smiled again: “It’s quite funny to think about now—my first thought then was to make this youth my sworn brother. Fortunately, I was worried about frightening him and didn’t mention it. That day I ordered wine and kept him to talk. He told me his name was Xiao Yunzong, and I called him Little Xiao. Little Xiao stayed in Cangzhou for more than ten days giving free medical treatment, and we drank and talked every day. In the years after that, we would meet from time to time. Later, when I was transferred to Fuzhou, Little Xiao made a special trip to bid me farewell. It wasn’t until the eighth year of Deyou when I was appointed to guard Shanhai Pass and saw clearly who sat on the throne in Qianqing Palace, that I understood to whom I owed my smooth career advancement all these years.”

Hearing this, I interjected: “Brother Xiao wouldn’t have promoted you just because he knew you.”

Qi Chengliang smiled, pride showing in his expression: “I believe in my ability—in leading troops, I stand behind no famous general. I also believe Little Xiao has the wisdom to recognize talent and wouldn’t carelessly favor personal connections in matters of state importance. Besides, even if I did achieve my position through personal connections, so what? If personal connections can help me serve the country and benefit the people, then I’ll use personal connections—what of it?”

There had long been rumors that Qi Chengliang was good at cultivating relationships with court officials, often using large amounts of silver to buy off those in power, which was why for ten years, no matter where he was stationed, he never had the common conflicts between military commanders and local governors.

I had seen many who stubbornly held onto so-called integrity and reputation, only to be blocked everywhere, achieving nothing and then blaming heaven and earth. Yet Qi Chengliang could break free from such constraints, compromising with the realities of officialdom while never forgetting his original purpose, leaving behind only outstanding achievements after his dismissal, with no excess wealth at home. Such a person truly lived magnificently and openly.

I smiled and cupped my hands: “Brother Qi, with these words of yours, Fenglai Pavilion’s efforts these days have been worthwhile.”

Qi Chengliang smiled too: “I’ve said so much, simply to tell you not to blame Little Xiao for my matter anymore.” As he spoke, he looked at me, “Please thank those friends who looked after me in the prison these past days on my behalf. If not for them, I fear I would have been in much worse shape.” He paused, then smiled, “Though I also don’t believe that throughout history, any prisoner whom the emperor tried every means to reduce punishment for and carefully kept in a private prison could have suffered too greatly in jail.”

I smiled with him, as I should have realized by now. Xiao Huan had been doing everything possible to reduce Qi Chengliang’s punishment. The initial charges submitted would have been enough for Qi Chengliang’s entire family to be executed. If Xiao Huan had simply let things be then, Qi Chengliang would have faced certain death. Yet in all those days after the memorial was submitted, Xiao Huan still worked day and night on the matter—not looking for ways to pile on charges against Qi Chengliang, but seeking ways to exonerate him.

Yet at such a time, I had questioned him, even mocked him coldly, and turned away without a second thought.

Gently holding Xiao Huan’s cool hand under the table, I looked up and smiled at Qi Chengliang: “Don’t worry, I won’t do it again.”

“That’s good.” Qi Chengliang smiled, his tone bright and half-joking, “After I’m gone, Little Xiao will be in your care.”

“I shall not fail this important task!” I answered with a smile.

Qi Chengliang stood up with a smile, raising his head to look at the full moon in the sky: “The song ends, the people disperse. Little Xiao, let us part here.”

Xiao Huan also stood, cupping his hands: “Safe journey, Brother Qi. Let us part here.”

Qi Chengliang bowed slightly, swept his sleeve, and without looking back, walked straight away.

Stone Yan was still waiting in the corridor. Seeing Qi Chengliang approach, he took out shackles to put on him and led him out.

After their figures disappeared, I was still holding Xiao Huan’s hand. I looked up at him with a smile: “Brother Xiao, there’s morning court tomorrow—let’s quickly go rest.”

He nodded slightly but then coughed once, his body trembling lightly.

I hurriedly supported him: “Brother Xiao!”

He shook his head, steadying himself with my arm, and smiled gently at me: “It’s nothing, Cangcang.”

His smile was still gentle in the moonlight, but his face was as white as snow.

I had almost forgotten—forgotten what a protective person he was.

Back at Fenglai Pavilion, for the sake of a few disciples who were killed, he could go out in the dead of night to destroy the Seven No Fort that had dominated the Yangtze for years. No matter how dangerous the mission, he always went himself. For anything he deemed needed protection, he always led from the front, never allowing others to encroach even slightly.

This time, although Qi Chengliang hadn’t uttered a single word of complaint from beginning to end, it was still by his hand that he investigated and exiled an old friend who had once been so close.

Smiling, I looked at the bamboo flute still in his hand: “Do you use this flute often, or was the one you gave to Duan Jingxue the one you use often?”

He was slightly stunned, then smiled: “That flute… “

“Quick, tell me,” I frowned, pretending to interrogate him, “how many times have you used that flute? No lying!”

“That flute looks nice, doesn’t it? Suzhou tribute xiang fei bamboo, Wufu just put it on the desk taking up space.” He laughed lightly while coughing, looking at me.

“So you’ve never played it?” I hadn’t expected this result, only now remembering that the bamboo flute I saw in Duan Jingxue’s hands that day had seemed unfamiliar. The one he held today was what he usually used, much plainer in appearance but well-worn from use.

I hadn’t paid attention before—eight years ago, after learning he could play the flute, whenever he was feeling well, I would often ask him to play a tune for me. Besides, I don’t know what Yun Zixin was thinking back then, insisting on seeing him strike that beautiful pose while carding cotton when he looked just as good holding a flute…

Holding his arm, I still couldn’t help complaining: “You haven’t played for me in so long, don’t blame me for being jealous!”

He was still smiling when I added: “But not today—quickly, let’s rest!”

There was morning court on the sixteenth day of the eighth month, but I quietly got up before Xiao Huan woke. Xiao Huan lay with his eyes closed, undisturbed by my movements.

He had always been a light sleeper—my poor sleeping habits, turning over and pulling at the blankets at night, could wake him.

But since waking from his unconsciousness this time, his spirit hadn’t shown much improvement, and he slept much more deeply than before. Today was the same—he had been sleeping so deeply since yesterday.

Bending down to kiss his lips lightly, I went out to wake Jiaoyan who was sleeping in the outer room, telling her Xiao Huan was still asleep. Then I quickly and quietly finished washing up, left Yangxin Hall, and walked along the corridor out of the palace.

Qi Chengliang had been sent off last night, but I still had to see another person.

Galloping through the early morning streets on horseback, I dismounted at the city gate and stood before the group of prisoners surrounded by soldiers. After showing them the waist token I had prepared, I made my way through the outer crowd, looking inward.

Besides Qi Chengliang’s clan members, there were also family members of other convicted military officials being exiled this time, altogether nearly a thousand people. Fortunes turned to nothing overnight—these people generally wore numb expressions on their faces, gathered in clusters, silent. After difficulty making my way past several groups of prisoners, I finally saw that familiar figure next to a dilapidated carriage.

“Lianming!” I called out excitedly as I walked over, grabbing her shoulders.

In just these few days without seeing her, her once rosy cheeks had turned pale. Seeing me, she gave a faint glance: “You came.”

“Sister Wu,” I hesitated, not knowing what to say, and after a moment of silence finally spoke, “I came to see you off.”

“See me off?” She suddenly smiled, with some mockery, “Back then when I left the Forbidden Palace, you saw me off, and now as I leave the capital, you’ve come to see me off again.”

“Sister Wu…” Looking at her, I took a breath, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Why say sorry?” she said flatly, “The one who should say sorry isn’t you. When the ruler wants a subject to die, the subject must die—and I’m not even dying, just being exiled to two provinces away, what is there to be sorry about?”

“Sister Wu, you can’t blame Brother Xiao entirely, he also…” I hurried to explain, seeing the clear resentment in her words, but suddenly choked—what about Brother Xiao? He knew Qi Chengliang was wrongly accused, and knew what would happen to the families of convicted officials, yet he still directed everything.

“I’m sorry.” I could only say sorry, “Sister Wu, I apologize…”

“The Lady is dead,” Wu Lianming said coldly, her tone flat, “She wasn’t in good health to begin with, and her spirit was proud. After just two days in prison, she became delirious, refusing food and water. She died last night.”

Qi Chengliang’s first wife was dead? Staring blankly at Wu Lianming, I couldn’t say a word.

“I often think, I can’t blame anyone for my life,” Wu Lianming continued, “Whether entering the palace or falling in love with His Majesty, these were all paths I chose myself. The first time I saw His Majesty in the Imperial Garden, I realized that some men could smile so gently. I desperately tried to make myself stand out, not caring if it would bring jealousy, until finally after being surrounded and cursed by several talented ladies, I received the summons tablet. I was almost crazy with joy, not because I could hold my head high, but because I thought that person would finally see me. But for the entire evening, apart from a few casual words at our meeting, nothing else happened. This was to support me. That morning when I left Yangxin Hall, I understood—he would never see me. Such a gentleman, he would deliberately summon me to prevent other consorts from bullying me, but in his eyes, there would never be me.

“After understanding this, I did many foolish things, things that would make it impossible for me to survive in the back palace. Deliberately provoking you in front of the Empress Dowager was one of them.

“In those days I couldn’t care about offending anyone or about my future survival, I just kept asking myself over and over: why wouldn’t that person love me? Why could I never reach his heart? Besides pitying me, would he even remember who I was or my name? Every day, I thought about it until I nearly went mad.

“I should thank you in the end. If you hadn’t woken me up, I don’t know how long I would have remained crazy. That day, covered in mud and kneeling before you, looking at you, I thought perhaps this is fate—some people are born to stand in high places, bright and graceful, while others are only suited to mediocrity. Even if they can jump out and stand in the spotlight for a moment, they’ll be forgotten in the blink of an eye.

“So from that day on, I no longer sought or hoped, only wished to endure silently and survive in the palace. Who knew that I had offended those who couldn’t be offended, and in the end was pushed out by Noble Consort De as a scapegoat, demoted to a palace maid? My father had hoped I would gain favor, bringing glory to the family, but when he heard this news, he fell ill with anger and within two months requested retirement to return home, not even sending someone to the palace with a message for me. When I finally learned this news, I almost threw myself down a well. Worked hard every day while enduring cold looks, and now even my parents didn’t want me—there seemed no point in living.

“But in the end, I didn’t die. When people are alive, it’s not so easy to seek death. Enduring day by day, even the most difficult days will eventually end.

“And truly, there came a time when things improved—leaving the palace, meeting my lord before reaching complete desperation, and encountering such an understanding and kind lady. These were good things I hadn’t dared to dream of in the Forbidden Palace.”

At this point, she gradually smiled, raising her head to look at me: “But unfortunately I wasn’t destined for such good fortune. Everything is gone now, like sleeping for a night and having a dream—everything is gone, nothing remains.”

“It’s not like that, Sister Wu,” seeing the deep despair in her eyes, I quickly grabbed her hand, “I can bring you back from the exile route, and then you won’t have to suffer in Liangzhou.”

“Suffer?” She looked at me and asked faintly, smiling, “What is suffering? Is not being exposed to wind and sun while wearing fine clothes and eating delicacies not suffering? Come back with you? Come back for what? So you can find someone to entrust me to?” She smiled sarcastically, “I don’t even know if my lord cared for me on His Majesty’s instructions, and now I should be entrusted again?” She smiled and shook her head, “I am a person, not goods to be placed anywhere.”

Pulling her hand from mine, she shook her head: “You should go. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Sister Wu!” Just as I urgently wanted to say something to her, the prisoner convoy began to move. The large and chaotic group was escorted by soldiers with raised guns, slowly beginning to move forward. The carriage Wu Lianming sat in was also driven forward by the driver.

In the swaying of the old carriage, Wu Lianming raised her head to look at me once, then withdrew her gaze, never turning back again.

As if nailed to the ground, I watched numbly as her carriage receded into the distance, watched as the elderly, weak, women and children around me passed by with difficulty, until finally, the soldiers escorting the prisoners asked somewhat impatiently if I had any other official business—I remained motionless throughout.

Having delayed too long outside, by the time I returned to Yangxin Hall, it was nearly noon.

Xiao Huan had already finished morning court and was reviewing memorials one by one. Seeing me, he smiled slightly while coughing: “You’re back?”

Still somewhat dazed, I walked over and sat close beside him, making a sound of agreement.

He paused slightly, then asked another question: “Cangcang, what did you do this morning?”

Still, in a daze, I answered casually: “Went to see Wu Lianming off.”

He was quiet for a moment, then after a while asked softly: “How is she?”

“Qi Chengliang’s first wife died…” I shook my head, suddenly not wanting to say more, “Brother Xiao, what’s right and what’s wrong—it’s getting harder and harder to tell, isn’t it?”

He remained quiet, then smiled faintly: “Cangcang, I’m sorry.”

Staring at him, I suddenly understood and smiled: “I just said sorry to Wu Lianming I don’t know how many times. The two of us could compete today to see who apologizes more.”

He also laughed lightly: “In that case, aren’t I far behind? It won’t be easy to catch up.”

“Mm, not easy to catch up.” I smiled, reaching for his hand, “Never mind that—I’m starving! Let’s eat first!”

He smiled and nodded in agreement, but just as he stood up, he suddenly had to steady himself against the table.

I quickly turned back to hold him. He closed his eyes, pressing his chest as he coughed lightly, then opened his eyes and smiled: “Just felt dizzy for a moment, it’s nothing.”

His face is this pale and he says it’s nothing? As anger started to rise again, I glanced at the pile of unreviewed memorials on his desk: “After eating you’re not allowed to tire yourself out again. Come with me to Fenglai Pavilion—it’s perfect timing to bring the little ones back.”

He was still coughing as he smiled: “When the master commands, how dare I not obey?”

Much quicker to agree than before—at least he knows what’s good for him. I hummed proudly.

After lunch, I forced him to lie down for more than an hour’s afternoon rest before we went to Fenglai Pavilion together.

The three little ones went crazy upon seeing Xiao Huan, clinging to him so tightly they couldn’t be pulled away.

I had thought we might find some peace at Fenglai Pavilion, but who knew these three little devils would give me such a headache? Yet faced with these same little monsters, Xiao Huan could still smile with perfect composure, making me stare in disbelief.

After a chaotic afternoon, it wasn’t until we returned to Yangxin Hall in the evening that we could escape those three unruly little demons.

After a comfortable bath, I had Xiao Huan half-recline on the soft couch while I dried his hair.

Every time after bathing together, I would insist on grooming Xiao Huan’s hair. Having him lean against the couch, I would carefully dry his black hair with absorbent cotton cloth, then comb it with a wooden comb, and finally tie it loosely with a silk ribbon to hang over his chest. The whole process took about half an hour.

As always, Xiao Huan smiled faintly, looking through documents while letting me fuss over him.

Today was much the same. I completed the final step, let out a long breath, and then ran to the front of the couch, circling to face him. After examining him from left to right, I nodded repeatedly in self-praise: “Perfect, perfect, my craftsmanship is just perfect. If only I could bring my male consort to the Hall of Imperial Brilliance looking just like this—that would be too perfect.”

Long used to my wild talk, he put down the memorial in his hand and laughed lightly: “Then shall I go to court like this tomorrow?”

“No, no!” I shook my head, pretending to consider seriously, “There are too many people in the Hall of Imperial Brilliance. If so many people saw my beautiful male consort, what if they tried to steal him from me?”

As we were joking, Feng Wufu hurriedly entered from outside, followed by an Imperial Guard in black clothes.

Walking straight in, the Imperial Guard knelt on one knee: “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

“No need for formalities, Chengxiang.” Xiao Huan sat up, smiling slightly, “How are things with General Qi?”

That Imperial Guard called Chengxiang paused but didn’t rise, answering: “Your Majesty, this servant failed in his duty to protect—this afternoon, General Qi’s secondary wife, Lady Wu, hanged herself outside the post station.”

My ears seemed to buzz as I rushed to ask: “What did you say? Who? Who committed suicide?”

“General Qi’s secondary wife, Lady Wu.” Still lowering his head, the Imperial Guard repeated.

Wu Lianming had taken her own life. The look of despair in her eyes when she left yesterday—she had truly made the most extreme decision she could. As if my throat was being strangled, for a moment my breath caught in a sob.

“Give her a proper burial,” after a moment of silence in the room, Xiao Huan spoke again, his voice still as calm as usual, “Bury her with the honors of a titled lady.”

Accepting the order with cupped hands, the Imperial Guard paused again: “Your Majesty, Lady Wu also left a final letter, saying there were four characters she wanted to be conveyed to Your Majesty.”

Xiao Huan nodded to him: “Speak.”

“The four characters Lady Wu’s letter asked to be given to Your Majesty were,” the Imperial Guard paused before saying, “Imperial favor is hard to bear.”

Coming out of my initial shock at the terrible news, I quickly turned to look at Xiao Huan.

He nodded very lightly, then smiled faintly: “I understand. Chengxiang, you may withdraw.”

I stared at him intently, not daring to look away, urgently calling out: “Brother Xiao!”

Without turning to look at me, the smile seemed to linger on his lips, and then he coughed very lightly, quickly covering his mouth with his hand, bending slightly—bright red blood dripped through his fingers into his sleeve.