The sword had already been taken from her hand, yet she still stood there in the same position, her body rigid, not even a single strand of hair trembling.

Xie Changgeng couldn’t help himself — he looked at her again.

Even the candlelight could not mask the pallor of her face, devoid of any trace of color.

Even her lips were colorless and wan.

Just moments ago, when he had pushed open the door and entered, he had found her standing with her back to the door. She had actually drawn his sword, and thinking she was merely playing around, he had walked over and taken it from her.

But now, looking at her like this, the situation seemed nothing like what he had assumed moments earlier.

He couldn’t help but suspect that this woman still harbored resentment over the failed separation from before. The people of the Mu Family surely knew that Empress Dowager Liu had long harbored ill will toward them, and yet this time she had been forced to come to the capital, and was now sharing a residence with him. She was likely filled with a thousand grievances, even to the point of deep resentment — and that was why she had been handling a sword in the room.

Displeasure stirred in his heart as well, but he revealed none of it on his face, and only said: “Your coming to the capital this time was not my intention. I only just returned myself and learned that the Empress Dowager had summoned you here.”

He paused for a moment, then glanced at the sword he had just hung back in its place.

“Get some rest.”

“After the morning court session tomorrow, I will take you into the palace.”

He said this coldly. When he finished, he turned around, removed his half-damp outer cloak, walked to the doorway, and shook the accumulated snow off it.

Mu Fulan forced her still-faintly-trembling hands to steady themselves, and slowly moved her leaden feet until she finally sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Nanny Mu had already heard the commotion and knew Xie Changgeng had returned. She hurried out from the side room where she had been resting nearby, and together with two coarse-work maidservants who were already attending to the daily household duties, she brought water in, then drew the door closed as she withdrew.

When Xie Changgeng finished bathing, he came out dressed neatly in a white inner robe.

Mu Fulan had already gotten into bed, pulled the covers over herself, and lay facing the wall.

His expression remained indifferent. He blew out the lamp and walked directly to the bed, lying down as well. A distance of more than one arm’s length separated their bodies. He then pulled the blankets over himself and closed his eyes.

Mu Fulan lay awake through the entire night. In the boundless darkness pressing down upon her, and amid the steady rhythm of the breathing from the man beside her, she kept her eyes open and waited for dawn.

He rose early, and after washing and changing into his court robes, he left. When the hour of Si was nearly upon them, the household steward came to invite Mu Fulan out, saying the carriage was waiting beyond the main gate, requesting that she depart for the Imperial Palace.

Mu Fulan had already finished dressing and putting on her makeup.

Xie Changgeng’s full official title was Grand Commissioner and Military Governor of Hexi, stationed in Liangzhou, and concurrently serving as the Military Superintendent of Liangzhou — a second-rank official by grade.

In her previous life, Mu Fulan, living in Xie County, had later also received an imperial conferment, and had been granted the official court attire of a titled noble lady.

She had no such title now, of course, so she wore a formal silk skirt in sky-blue, prepared in advance and far more dignified than her everyday clothes. The pattern was an all-over embroidery of gold and silver thread depicting a hundred flowers and butterflies, with gold and silver cord trim adorning the edges as well. It was exquisitely luxurious, though it veered somewhat into the stiff and old-fashioned.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, then stepped out and made her way to the door, where she boarded the waiting carriage.

The carriage carried her to the outer gates of the Imperial Palace. Cao Jin, the eunuch who had come to Xie Manor the previous day with a message, was waiting there. When he saw Mu Fulan arrive, he led her inside, and as they walked, he smiled and said: “The Empress Dowager is in the Wangxian Hall. Grand Commissioner Xie is waiting outside for the Imperial Princess.”

The Wangxian Hall was where Empress Dowager Liu resided after the morning court session.

Mu Fulan smiled and nodded to this Eunuch Cao, and followed him inside, passing through corridors and halls until they arrived outside the Wangxian Hall, where she saw Xie Changgeng standing there.

“Grand Commissioner Xie, the Imperial Princess has arrived.”

Eunuch Cao left Mu Fulan behind and hurried forward to Xie Changgeng’s side.

Xie Changgeng nodded, and his gaze moved toward Mu Fulan.

A ray of sunlight was slanting down from the glazed roof of the hall, falling directly upon her. From head to toe, gold and silver thread — a figure of wealth and nobility, perfectly befitting her station.

Xie Changgeng swept a glance over her, his expression unchanged, then withdrew his gaze and said: “Follow me.”

Mu Fulan drew her eyes away from him and Eunuch Cao, lowered them, and followed him inside. As they entered the hall, she looked up from a distance and saw the Head Eunuch Yang Guangshu coming out toward them.

“When you see the Empress Dowager, I advise you to behave yourself.”

A low murmur suddenly reached her ear.

Mu Fulan raised her eyes and stole a swift glance at him.

Xie Changgeng’s gaze remained fixed straight ahead, his expression blank, as he stepped forward toward Yang Guangshu who was making his way toward them.

Eunuch Yang soon drew near. His gaze lingered a moment on Mu Fulan, then he exchanged a few pleasantries with her before saying with a smile: “The Empress Dowager has always been one to cherish old ties, and when she later learned that the two of you were once again joined in wedlock, she had long been wishing to summon the Imperial Princess into the palace for a visit. This time, hearing that the Imperial Princess had been feeling somewhat unwell, she grew concerned and specially sent people with Imperial Physicians to look in on you. It is a relief that all is well — that is the best news. Knowing the Grand Commissioner is occupied with pressing matters and unable to spare the time himself, she simply had the Imperial Princess brought over. You two are newly wed after all, and must surely find it difficult to part. What is more, the Grand Commissioner had to leave home on his very wedding night due to the campaign to suppress the rebellion. The Empress Dowager has felt guilty about this all along, and this time, it may be considered doing a good turn for you both.”

Mu Fulan assumed a bashful expression and said nothing.

Xie Changgeng smiled and said: “Eunuch Yang speaks well. The Empress Dowager’s care and concern — Xie is deeply and most gratefully moved.”

While they exchanged these pleasantries, they made their way into the inner hall.

Mu Fulan kept her gaze lowered and followed Xie Changgeng before Empress Dowager Liu, and the two of them knelt in obeisance.

Xie Changgeng offered his thanks to the Empress Dowager. Empress Dowager Liu looked at the two of them with a smile and said: “Xie, there is no need to stand on ceremony with me. I am most gratified to see you and your wife reunited. Fulan lived in the palace for nearly half a year when she was a child, and I was always very fond of her back then. Knowing that you still have matters to attend to, you may go first — do not worry; leave her safely in my hands. Once I have finished catching up with her, I will send your beautiful bride back to you…”

Her words carried the teasing tone of an elder. When she finished, her eyes settled upon Xie Changgeng’s face.

Xie Changgeng’s reaction was minimal — a smile fitting the occasion, a respectful bow of gratitude — and then he rose, withdrew, and left.

In the hall, only the Empress Dowager, Mu Fulan, and Eunuch Yang remained.

Mu Fulan immediately sensed the shift in the Empress Dowager’s manner.

The smile remained on her face as she conversed with her, and there was none of the imperial dignity or intimidating air one might expect from an empress dowager of the realm. Her expression, too, was gentle. But Mu Fulan could see it clearly — from the moment Xie Changgeng departed, those two eyes had never once moved away from her.

She knew the Empress Dowager was watching her. Those sharp eyes would not miss a single small glance or movement from her.

Even without Xie Changgeng’s word of warning just now, Mu Fulan knew that this was absolutely not the moment for her to show any cleverness.

But she could not appear too foolish either. That would only arouse the other woman’s suspicion.

Too far in either direction would give her away — she understood this principle well.

She answered Empress Dowager Liu’s questions one by one, showing neither signs of cleverness nor any hint of excessive dullness.

She would be nothing more than a woman of middling talent — sheltered and doted upon by family, not yet well acquainted with the world, and unremarkable among a crowd.

The Empress Dowager spoke with her for a while, then suddenly asked whether she missed her aunt.

Mu Fulan nodded. The Empress Dowager then showed her favor, instructing Eunuch Yang to take her first to pay her respects before the spirit tablet of the late Empress Mu.

As the primary consort of the late Emperor, the late Empress Mu had naturally had her spirit tablet enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple upon her death. Several years later, however, a fire destroyed the side hall where her spirit tablet was housed. Since then, the inner court had made plans to rebuild, but owing to various delays, the construction had never been completed, and in time, no one asked after it any longer.

Her spirit tablet now remained in the rear hall — a subsidiary hall designated for imperial consorts who, after their death, were granted a rank of honor surpassing what they had held in life.

Mu Fulan was led by Eunuch Yang into that dim and somber rear subsidiary hall, where she knelt before her aunt’s spirit tablet and offered incense and prayers.

When she returned before the Empress Dowager, the corners of her eyes were still tinged with red.

The Empress Dowager reminisced with her about some of the late primary Empress’ past, and with an expression of wistfulness, sighed: “To think, in those days when your aunt presided over all under heaven, I was no more than an Imperial Noble Consort. Reflecting on her many virtuous and admirable qualities, the memory remains vivid to this day. What a pity that heaven envied such beauty, and took her from us so early. Your aunt and I were as close as sisters. From now on, whatever you may wish for or seek, tell me directly.”

Mu Fulan’s eyes reddened, and emotion showed upon her face. With a soft thud, she bent both knees and knelt before her.

“Your Highness, Fulan takes the liberty of speaking plainly. My aunt’s spirit tablet should rightfully be enshrined in the front hall. But I have heard that when the main shrine hall was being renovated, the construction kept collapsing repeatedly, and the rites officials said it was because an accompanying spirit of ill-fated destiny was causing interference — which is why it was never completed.”

“Surely they were mistaken. How could my aunt possibly be of ill-fated destiny? If the Empress Dowager would be so benevolent as to find some way to help move my aunt’s tablet back to the front hall, Fulan would be eternally grateful.”

As she finished speaking, her tears fell one after another.

The Empress Dowager agreed at once, saying she would find a way, and bade her rise. She then offered further comforting words, and only then did Mu Fulan turn her weeping into smiles.

That day, Mu Fulan was kept by the Empress Dowager until evening, was graciously invited to dine with her, and only then was she sent out of the palace.

Winter days are short, and by the time Mu Fulan returned to the residence, the sky had gone completely dark.

Xie Changgeng had not yet returned. She entered the room and looked up — the sword that had hung there yesterday was gone.

Xie Changgeng must have taken it away.

She stared at that now-empty stretch of wall and stood motionless for a moment. The various emotions she had suppressed in her heart throughout the day — the endless testing and probing she had endured before the Empress Dowager, playing the fool and the simpleton — now suddenly surged up all at once, like a tide, submerging her entirely.

After a sleepless night, and a long day spent on guard and pretense, she felt utterly exhausted. She soaked in a hot bath, came out, and went to bed early.

But the moment she closed her eyes, she thought of her Xi’er once more.

From the very day she had opened her eyes and found herself returned to the world, there had been almost no night when she did not fall asleep cradling a bone-deep longing for Xi’er.

Each time they met in her dreams, waking brought her nothing but a deeper measure of grief and hatred toward Xie Changgeng.

As for her own previous life — she had died early, in a wretched manner. But during those long ten years when her soul had lingered in the eternal lamp, she had been more consumed by self-loathing than by resentment toward her husband.

He had always been that kind of man.

In their previous life, on the very first night they spent together, the tenderness and affection he had shown her might well have been genuine.

He had likely never truly forgotten the debt of gratitude he owed the former Prince Changsha for recognizing and nurturing his talents.

When he witnessed the manner of her death at the end, he might even have felt some measure of guilt in that moment.

But that was all it had amounted to.

When those things became obstacles on his path to the summit, every trace of warmth would be completely stripped away.

That young man in blue robes she had glimpsed from behind on the mountain path beside the ancient cypress on Junshan in her thirteenth year — he had been nothing more than a silhouette.

The man who had come seeking marriage for his own gain, driven by ambition, contending for supremacy under heaven — that great and formidable figure — that was the true Xie Changgeng.

If she was going to hate, she should hate her own foolishness and weakness, which had nourished the selfishness and callousness in his very blood and bones, until they became the blade that ultimately destroyed her life.

Until the final moment arrived.

When she had witnessed with her own eyes as Xi’er drew his blade and took his own life before her own memorial tablet — in that moment, she had truly and deeply felt what it meant to be engulfed in hopeless grief and irresolvable hatred.

It was from that very moment that she had come to truly hate Xie Changgeng — this man who had once been the man of her girlhood dreams.

Xi’er had been gone just like that, carrying with him his resentment toward his own biological father.

Even though she had been given a new life, even though everything could begin again, and even though the Xie Changgeng of now had never stained his hands with Xi’er’s blood — she would not forgive him.

Because of Xi’er, she would never forgive him. Not in this life, not in any life, not through any cycle of reincarnation — never, ever.

Mu Fulan remembered with perfect clarity what Xi’er had said in his final words: that he would come to keep her company.

She had already been reborn into a new life. But where was her Xi’er now — where in the world was he?

That familiar ache — the one that had felt, ever since she awoke and returned, as though a piece of flesh had been gouged from her chest — came surging toward her once more.

She furrowed her brows, closed her eyes, and even in her dreams she curled in on herself in anguish, clasping her own arms like a newborn infant, drawing herself into a tight ball.

“Wake up.”

From somewhere far away, a vague and indistinct voice drifted toward her.

She felt a hand — as if it had patted her face. Just like the feeling, held in her memory, of Xi’er as a small child waking up and reaching out his little hand to touch her cheek.

“Xi’er!”

She cried out, and snapped her eyes open — and found herself staring up into a pair of dark, shadowed eyes looking down upon her.

Cold sweat drenched her hair and body. Her long hair clung tightly to her face and neck. For a moment, her mind went blank.

For an instant, she did not know where she was or who she faced. She simply lay there with wide eyes, the pain from the dream still lingering in her gaze, and in the dim candlelight softly filtering through the gauze curtains, she stared blankly and emptily at the man leaning over the side of the bed, looking down at her.

“What did you dream of?”

“Who is Xi’er?”

Xie Changgeng watched her for a moment, his gaze passing over her body still curled tightly in on itself, and asked in a flat and even tone.