“Five years ago, you nearly killed Qing Luo. You thought you had hidden it from everyone. But everything you did — I know all of it.”

Cui Jinzhi spoke.

A long silence settled over the tent. Cui Jinzhi watched Li Shu’s face go slightly pale, her lips pressed shut, not saying a single word.

Then, abruptly, she turned away and strode toward the tent’s entrance with hurried steps — as if she could bear it no longer, as if she wanted to flee this place.

Wanted to flee him.

Li Shu almost never let any vulnerability show.

Watching her stumble away, Cui Jinzhi felt a strange, painful satisfaction rise in his chest.

Like an old wound that had barely healed, now having every ugly scab torn away.

Pain, and yet — a certain bitter satisfaction.

Cui Jinzhi caught up to her in a few strides, seizing her by the arm and wrenching her back around. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He leaned close.

“What are you running from? You did what you did — do you not dare own up to it? Or perhaps you do feel guilt. Do you feel remorse? Do you not dare face yourself?”

Old scabs torn open.

Li Shu had been yanked back sharply by Cui Jinzhi. His gaze held something close to vengeful satisfaction, pinning her in place with ruthless intensity. There was much layered in that look — not all of it was for Qing Luo — but Qing Luo was the only outlet he could use.

Li Shu had never seen Cui Jinzhi like this. On instinct she began to struggle. “Cui Jinzhi, have you lost your mind?! Let go of me!”

“I am asking you something!”

Cui Jinzhi suddenly bellowed. His ink-black eyes bore into Li Shu, pressing her against the side of the tent. “The things you have done — do you not dare acknowledge them?”

Li Shu stopped struggling.

The man before her was the very one she had followed for ten years, admired for ten years, loved for ten years. And for the sake of a woman of the pleasure quarters, he had cast her feelings aside like a worn-out shoe.

Li Shu grew completely calm. Meeting Cui Jinzhi’s gaze, she let out a short, sharp laugh.

“I dare acknowledge it. Why would I not dare. I admit that Qing Luo was nearly driven to her death by me back then. And so? Are you here today to drive me to my death for her sake?”

“Cui Jinzhi — a prince consort keeping a mistress is an affront to the imperial family’s dignity. If I were to tell Father Emperor about this, do you know what the consequences would be? You may continue to flourish under the protection of the Cui Family and the Crown Prince. But what of Qing Luo? Having a woman of the pleasure quarters put to death is as simple as crushing an ant.”

The grip on her arm slowly loosened. Li Shu fixed Cui Jinzhi with a cold stare. “I was able to drive her to the edge of death back then. Today, I could kill her openly and without censure.”

What Cui Jinzhi hated most was the casual, detached way Li Shu spoke of death.

He exhaled sharply, slowly releasing her arm, then turned his head away — as if he could no longer bear to look at Li Shu. He despised her.

“Viper-hearted. Li Shu, you are viper-hearted.”

The instant Cui Jinzhi turned away, something flashed in Li Shu’s gaze — a glimmer of something like tears — but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

She gave a cold laugh. “You have known me for more than a day.”

“Cui Jinzhi — in these past three years I have not laid a finger on Qing Luo. Do not mistake that for helplessness, as if I have no choice but to tolerate her existence. I have many methods to make her disappear entirely.”

Li Shu pulled her arm from his grasp and unhurriedly smoothed the wrinkled cuff where he had clutched her. She lifted her chin, and the familiar contemptuous smile settled onto her face.

“I have not touched her only because I have no wish to. Only because I cannot be bothered to care about you two. Now that you and I each live our own lives — you have yours, I have mine, and we do not interfere with each other — this arrangement suits me. From now on, unless it concerns the Crown Prince’s affairs, I will not exchange another word with you.”

The moment Li Shu finished speaking, something ached inside her chest — and yet she also felt a relief like setting down a heavy burden.

If it were possible to annul this marriage, she would have done so three years ago, and then never laid eyes on Cui Jinzhi again. But it was not possible.

The Crown Prince, the Cui Family, and herself — they had been bound together into an unbreakable alliance of shared interests. There was no freeing herself from this rope.

After those words, the tent fell quiet for a moment, and all that could be heard was the sound of Cui Jinzhi’s breathing. That sound had weight to it, pressing down on Li Shu in a way that made her uneasy.

Cui Jinzhi grabbed Li Shu’s arm again — more forcefully than before.

He closed the distance between them, his breath falling hot against her face.

The grip on her wrist was a raw ache. Li Shu heard Cui Jinzhi speak through clenched teeth: “What do you mean, ‘each living our own lives’? What do you mean, ‘your life’?”

He said, “Your life? Your life is just going off to find that Shen Xiao!”

Cui Jinzhi ground the words out from between his teeth, and in an instant the tent fell into a silence like death.

Li Shu froze.

Cui Jinzhi froze.

In a single moment, victor and vanquished reversed. The tide turned.

Li Shu suddenly understood something.

Facing Cui Jinzhi, she gave an abrupt, soft laugh. Cui Jinzhi turned his face away, not daring to meet her eyes, yet still he gripped Li Shu’s arm tightly.

“You are right… My life is going to find Shen Xiao.”

Li Shu took a step forward. Her sharp, clear-sighted gaze seemed to bore straight into the depths of Cui Jinzhi’s heart, forcing him to retreat a step.

Cui Jinzhi was silent for a moment, then spoke in a hoarse voice: “But he is the Second Prince’s man.”

Li Shu took another step forward. Cui Jinzhi retreated again.

“Shen Xiao entered my second elder brother’s service only because he was seeking an official post. If I can offer him a position, he will transfer his allegiance to me.”

Li Shu smiled. “As far as I am concerned, political allegiance is not what matters.”

Cui Jinzhi made a desperate last stand, grasping frantically for any argument he could find.

“Shen Xiao is too ambitious. He will only use you to gain power.”

Li Shu kept her eyes fixed on him and took yet another step forward. Cui Jinzhi retreated once more.

“I do not care.”

She said it lightly, with an air of complete indifference.

Cui Jinzhi suddenly spun around, glaring at Li Shu with fierce intensity — and finally, Li Shu had pressed out of him: “But I care!”

Layer after layer of defense finally crumbled. The words long suppressed came pouring out.

But when Li Shu heard this, she only took a step back.

She stared at Cui Jinzhi for a long moment, then said slowly, “Cui Jinzhi, you truly disgust me.”

What did he mean, “he cared”?

What right did he have to care?!

This marriage had become what it was today, and she had become this sharp-edged, bitter version of herself — all of it was his doing. Yet now he performed this reluctant, regretful act and said to her — I care.

What did he care about?

That her gaze no longer followed his every move, but had begun to turn toward someone else.

But when had his gaze ever turned toward her?!

Facing Cui Jinzhi, Li Shu felt disgusted for the very first time.

Cui Jinzhi stood there stupefied, his mouth opening and closing, unable to find any words.

He felt as if he had forced his innermost feelings out at great cost, only to have Li Shu toss them aside like a worn-out shoe in an instant.

A surge of shame and fury rose in his chest at the same time. Cui Jinzhi roared, “I disgust you?”

He bit the words out, advancing on Li Shu step by step. “And what about you? As a wife, you go behind my back to take a lover — you are the one who disgusts me!”

All their courteous facades were torn to shreds. Every bright and presentable garment was ripped away.

They stood before each other with nothing held back, each seeing the other in their most unadorned and most hideous form.

You disgust me.

Those words struck Li Shu like a blow, leaving her dizzy. She could not stop herself from taking a step back, beginning to tremble slightly.

Cui Jinzhi watched the color drain instantly from Li Shu’s face, and that sensation of painful satisfaction surged through him again, reclaiming his heart.

He clenched his fists tight.

“Li Shu, you are my wife. On what grounds do you go behind my back to seek another?”

Li Shu had no wish to tangle with Cui Jinzhi any further. She spun around swiftly and bolted toward the tent entrance with cold, decisive steps.

But Cui Jinzhi behind her refused to let her go. He lunged forward several steps and caught Li Shu again just at the tent’s entrance.

He seemed hell-bent on breaking her, pressing her again: “On what grounds?”

You are my wife. On what grounds do you seek another?

On what grounds.

Li Shu shoved him away with all her strength, heedless of everything, desperate to rush out of the tent. She could not bear this place. She had to leave.

But just as Li Shu lifted the curtain, in the blazing sunlight outside, she walked straight into the gaze of a woman whose eyes held deep anguish.

The woman before her, upon seeing her, dropped swiftly to her knees. “This servant pays her respects to Princess Pingyang.”

She knelt there, head lowered, her manner humble and compliant. Li Shu could see the graceful curve of her neck — a sight that moved one to pity.

In that very instant, Cui Jinzhi abruptly released Li Shu’s hand.

The sunlight, merciless and unsparing, poured down over Li Shu’s body. She looked at Qing Luo kneeling on the ground, then slowly turned back to face Cui Jinzhi.

She heard her own voice drifting in the air, as insubstantial as mist: “Just now, didn’t you ask me… on what grounds?”

Li Shu smiled. “On exactly these grounds.”

*

Princess Pingyang’s carriage departed Yongtong Canal as if in flight, swift and urgent. Cui Jinzhi stood in place as the dust kicked up by the carriage settled over him. He remained motionless for a long while.

Suddenly a pair of hands gently patted the dust from his clothing, followed by a voice that had once been the finest singing voice in the Changle Quarter: “Third Young Master, let us go inside.”

Cui Jinzhi pressed his lips together and stood there until Li Shu’s carriage was no longer visible. Then, with equal decisiveness, he turned away and went back into the tent.

His spine was drawn so taut it seemed it might snap at any moment.

Qing Luo followed Cui Jinzhi into the tent close behind him. She surveyed the space. Though the tent was spacious enough, everything bore the unmistakable signs of temporary, hastily assembled sleeping quarters — the Third Young Master had clearly been far from comfortable here these past days. Beside the campaign cot on the right, a bowl of medicine had been set on a small stool. Qing Luo walked over and reached out to touch the rim of the bowl. The medicine was long cold — it had clearly been sitting there for quite some time.

Qing Luo picked up the bowl and said to Cui Jinzhi, who sat in silence behind the writing table: “This medicine has gone cold. Let me take it out to be reheated.”

Her voice was very gentle. As if in passing, she added lightly, “The Princess was in the tent just now — how is it she did not think to remind Third Young Master to take his medicine?”

Cui Jinzhi raised his eyes, glanced at the bowl, then looked away.

Li Shu would never trouble herself with such small matters.

Qing Luo was about to carry the medicine out of the tent when Cui Jinzhi suddenly said, “No need. Bring it here. In this heat, cold medicine will do.”

And so Qing Luo obediently brought the bowl over and set it on the writing table.

Only then did Cui Jinzhi look at her properly. He noticed that wisps of hair had slipped loose at her temples and there was a faint sheen of sweat on her brow. At last his attention shifted away from Li Shu, and he asked, “What brings you here?”

The tone held concern, yet carried a note of displeasure.

This was Yongtong Canal, a place of official business. Li Shu’s coming was one thing — she was a princess of the current dynasty, and she was frequently involved in court affairs. But Qing Luo coming here — what sense did that make? What would others think of him?

Qing Luo, ever perceptive, sensed what Cui Jinzhi meant. Rather than answering directly, she hesitated for a moment, then furrowed her brow and said softly, “I should not have come. Just now — did the Princess leave in such haste because she saw me…”

Without waiting for Cui Jinzhi to respond, she answered the question herself, speaking as if to no one in particular: “It is all my fault for choosing such a bad time to arrive… I heard you were injured and feared there was no one here to care for you, so I rushed over in a panic. Had I known the Princess would come to look after you, I would never have come to spoil her mood.”

As she spoke, she pushed the medicine bowl a little closer toward him. “Have your medicine first.”

Cui Jinzhi looked down at the bowl before him.

Look after him?

He picked up the bowl, thinking to himself: Li Shu had not even reminded him to take his medicine — what manner of looking after was that?

The sole purpose of her visit today had been to have a fight with him.

Every time they met, it was either cold official business about court affairs, or hysterical quarreling. Never once had they sat down in peace and spoken calmly with each other.

Cui Jinzhi pressed his fingers against his brow in irritation and drank the medicine. Only then did he remember that Qing Luo had still not properly answered his earlier question.

He asked again: “How did you know I was injured?”

Qing Luo did not have Li Shu’s abilities, with informants spread across the court and the wider world.

Cui Jinzhi narrowed his eyes, and a sudden feeling came over him — a sense of being watched. Had she bribed someone among his attendants?

Qing Luo cleared the empty medicine bowl from the table, dodging the question with evasive words: “I… I was at home when I suddenly felt uneasy in my heart, fluttering terribly, as if something had happened to you. So I came as quickly as I could…”

She kept her eyes cast down, not daring to meet Cui Jinzhi’s gaze. Her long lashes cast a faint shadow across her pale and delicate face, trembling slightly.

She was plainly lying.

Cui Jinzhi’s frown deepened. He had just been through an argument with Li Shu and his temper had not yet settled; now to see Qing Luo telling such a blatant lie, his patience snapped at once.

Cui Jinzhi said coldly, “I am asking you — how did you know I was injured?”

Qing Luo had just picked up the medicine bowl from the writing table when she was startled so badly by Cui Jinzhi’s tone that her hands shook, and the bowl slipped and shattered on the ground.

A sharp crack.

“I…”

She stood among the shards of porcelain, still hesitating, still not daring to meet Cui Jinzhi’s eyes.

“I… today I brought a maidservant out to walk the streets, and by chance I spotted Cui Lin riding past on horseback at full gallop. I quickly called out to him and stopped him — that was how I learned you had been injured. The moment I heard, I grew frantic. Afraid there would be no one to care for you in the camp, I begged and pleaded until Cui Lin agreed to bring me here.”

Outside the tent, Cui Lin had been peering in through a gap in the canvas. Cui Jinzhi caught sight of him immediately.

Caught red-handed, Cui Lin had no choice but to slink inside.

Seeing Cui Lin enter, Qing Luo quickly said, “I know it was wrong of me to come to Yongtong Canal — it is not fitting for a woman to linger in a place like this. Cui Lin truly did not want to bring me, but he could not hold out against my pleading.”

Cui Lin glanced at Qing Luo, then gave Cui Jinzhi a quick, cooperative nod. “That’s right… Miss Qing Luo was worried about you and was absolutely determined to come. I had no other choice…”

Cui Jinzhi swept him with a glance and said nothing.

Qing Luo continued: “Seeing that Third Young Master is unharmed, my heart is at ease. It really is improper for a woman to stay in a military camp — people will gossip. I shall take my leave now.”

With that, she began to move toward the tent entrance with light, delicate steps, ready to depart.

There was still a thin layer of sweat on her brow, and she was about to set off on the sweltering journey back.

Cui Jinzhi kneaded his brow, then sighed. “There is no need.”

“The sun is at its most fierce right now. Wait until the afternoon cools before you leave.”

With that, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. Whether it was because of the medicine or not, he felt profoundly exhausted at that moment.

The injury, Shen Xiao, Li Shu… this entire morning had not offered a single moment of respite, with everything pressing in on him at once and no gap through which to breathe. He felt as if he were being crushed beneath the weight of court affairs.

A fragrance of osmanthus drifted close, and then a pair of soft hands settled on his brow, gently kneading his temples.

The deep furrow between Cui Jinzhi’s brows slowly eased.

It was as though he had at last shaken free of every entanglement of court politics, drifting back in dreams to those free and carefree days of long ago — days untouched by court affairs.

*

After seeing Cui Jinzhi settled into sleep, Qing Luo quietly cleaned up the broken pieces of the bowl and slipped out of the tent.

She had only taken a step or two when Cui Lin appeared from around some corner, and at once bowed his hands toward her in a gesture of gratitude.

“Many thanks to Miss Qing Luo for covering for me.”

Qing Luo gave a faint smile and said quietly, “It is nothing. If I said I came of my own accord to see him, he would not blame me. But if it had come out that you brought me here on your own initiative, he would surely have blamed you.”

Cui Lin had gone to Princess Pingyang’s residence to summon an imperial physician, intending to ask Li Shu to go to Yongtong Canal and check on Cui Jinzhi. But Li Shu’s expression was always so detached that it was impossible to tell whether she truly cared or did not care at all.

So on his way back, Cui Lin had made a detour to bring Qing Luo along.

What no one had expected was that Qing Luo would run straight into the Princess.

Acting on one’s own initiative was a servant’s gravest transgression. Had it come to light, Cui Jinzhi would certainly have punished him — the great households were all strict in their rules for managing servants.

It was a great stroke of fortune that Miss Qing Luo had covered for him and helped him escape this disaster.

He truly had every reason to be grateful to her.