The colder the weather grew, the longer the nights became. In summer, the fifth watch brought the first light — yet now that autumn had arrived, the sky remained in heavy darkness still.

Shen Xiao gathered up his clothes from the floor and, with his back to Li Shu, dressed himself piece by piece. Li Shu sat on the daybed with her garments draped loosely before her, covering the essentials.

She was exhausted and drowsy, yet she forced herself to remain awake and watch Shen Xiao.

“Will you have me go tell Imperial Father, or will you submit the petition for the marriage yourself?”

Shen Xiao turned at this.

All the intoxication had receded, and he was once again that composed and upright court official — all feeling tucked away, nothing revealed before Li Shu.

Since he had promised her he would marry Jincheng, he would play the role in full. Otherwise, if she were to learn his true intention, she would certainly interpose obstacle after obstacle.

Shen Xiao furrowed his brow slightly in the manner of one calculating carefully. After a moment he said: “His Majesty has not issued a direct edict, which suggests he is still sounding out the mood — or perhaps fears that I may refuse the marriage for various reasons, causing an embarrassment for the imperial family.”

“Your Highness came to me the very day this was raised, to ask my intention — which means you have not yet gone to speak with Princess Jincheng. Might you first go and ask what Princess Jincheng herself thinks? She is, after all, the true subject of this matter. Even if I wish to petition for the marriage, I should at minimum know what the true subject’s own wishes are.”

Shen Xiao’s voice was neither hurried nor slow.

His tone was very calm — like the many occasions on which he had spoken of court affairs and plans, steady and deliberate, with a quality of calculation but without any personal feeling.

Composed to an extreme. Rational to an extreme.

His gaze did not even fall upon Li Shu’s exposed skin — he looked only directly into her eyes, and nowhere else.

A moment ago they had been at the height of intimacy, murmuring close in each other’s ears; now they were at the height of estrangement — she calling him Lord Shen, he calling her Your Highness.

Observing the decorum of sovereign and subject.

She knew full well it was her own insistence and her own demand. Yet for some reason, seeing Shen Xiao speak so composedly of going to marry Jincheng, Li Shu felt within herself a trace of… displeasure.

She pinched her own thigh sharply in the shadows and cursed herself silently — how can you want to be shameless and yet want to be virtuous all at once.

The pain in her leg pulled her thoughts back to the matter at hand. She said: “Very well. I will go to the palace today and ask Jincheng’s thoughts.”

Li Shu hesitated a moment. “Jincheng should… not object.”

A young girl’s heart beginning to stir with first feeling — Li Shu had seen Jincheng clearly. Not only would she not refuse, she would be thoroughly pleased.

Shen Xiao frowned slightly upon hearing this. He had lived alone for a long while and was in truth rather slow when it came to affairs of the heart — all feeling-related thoughts had been placed upon Li Shu, and he had simply not noticed any particular sentiment from Princess Jincheng.

Having met on only two occasions, even if there were anything there, it would be no more than the shallowest of delights — the kind of feeling that could be forgotten before long. What deep and bone-rooted admiration could it possibly be?

Shen Xiao’s thoughts did not linger on Princess Jincheng. Instead he said: “Today… perhaps you should not go to the palace.”

Shen Xiao paused, the tips of his ears going faintly red. He assumed an air of cool composure, but his gaze drifted off to one side.

The second time he had not held back as much — he feared her legs might be unsteady.

And besides, after a night of no sleep, she would be exhausted.

Shen Xiao cleared his throat lightly and explained in a perfectly solemn manner: “These past few days I have a great deal on my hands. Even if you have laid all the groundwork, it will take me a while before I can free up the time to submit the petition.”

Li Shu glanced at him — it was unclear whether she had seen through his half-truth or not. She gave a nod. “Very well.”

So long as Shen Xiao was willing, waiting a few days was no difficulty. Imperial Father had set no particular deadline.

Shen Xiao added: “Could Your Highness lend me use of your private network of messengers?”

Seeing Li Shu’s frown, Shen Xiao explained: “The Seventh Prince is overseeing the riverbank works along the Yellow River. I have matters to discuss with him. My person already carries the name of cultivating a relationship with Your Highness — I do not wish to add the further name of cultivating a relationship with an imperial prince. Therefore, going forward, I would like to be more discreet in the correspondence I exchange with the Seventh Prince.”

Li Shu naturally had no reason to refuse. “Very well.”

Her couriers were not only private but swift — eight hundred li at urgent pace, running from Henan Circuit to Chang’an in a single day and night — far faster than the official relay stations.

The business concluded, a silence settled between them.

Both windows and doors were tightly shut, the air within the room unstirred — the cold of dawn gradually seeped in from outside, diluting the dense, heavy atmosphere of the night’s intimacy.

Just as between the two of them — from the most intense, now turned toward the most distant.

If he truly married Jincheng, Shen Xiao thought, he could of course remain in Chang’an — high office and comfortable circumstance — and even, by virtue of the family connection to Li Shu, see her more frequently.

But what good would that be? Their meetings would be nothing but pleasantries; their private conversations nothing but affairs of state. That sort of estrangement — better not to meet at all.

Shen Xiao withdrew his gaze and glanced at the water clock.

It was almost the fifth watch — time to go.

Shen Xiao looked at Li Shu one last time, assumed an air of indifference, and turned to walk out toward the door. Yet at the threshold, he could not help himself, and stopped to say: “The weather has turned cold. Dress more warmly from now on.”

Her body ran cold — even holding her, one could feel the chill of her.

Before Li Shu could turn over the many-layered care concealed within those words, Shen Xiao had stepped out the door without looking back.

He still had to rush back to the residence to change into official robes and hurry to the office to report for duty. If he did not leave now he would truly be late — and at this exposed moment, he had no wish to add another point for which he might be impeached.

After Shen Xiao left, Hong Luo finally slipped inside.

She had been keeping watch outside the door all night. The sounds within had not been light, and she had heard everything. What was more — when the first encounter ended, Shen Xiao had draped his robe over himself, opened the door of his own accord in broad manner, and ordered her to go fetch water.

The manner of a master of the house, commanding her as a matter of course — as though he had already entered the house with full standing as the consort.

Hong Luo knew nothing of court affairs. She thought privately: Would Lord Shen become the princess’s new consort?

Hong Luo walked to Li Shu’s side. She saw Li Shu’s expression was unusually dazed — the princess was tilting her head slightly, as though listening to a sound carried from outside the window. In the silent, still small hours of the avenue, the sound of Shen Xiao departing into the distance gradually faded away.

—

With a single impeachment memorial from Cui Jinzhi, the eyes of the court had all converged on one point. One was Princess Pingyang, whose imperial favor was firmly in hand; the other was Remonstrating Counselor Shen Xiao, who was at the height of his prestige and influence. So these two… had a thing between them — and moreover, this relationship had been exposed by the former husband.

Setting aside the political dimensions of it entirely — just the three-way relationship alone was enough to fuel speculation about a thoroughly scandalous dramatic affair.

For a time, how many ambiguous glances fell in that direction.

Well then — so Princess Pingyang, who seemed so cool and aloof in public, so self-possessed and above it all, had in private been this indulgent.

In the minds of countless officials, images of Li Shu’s dissolute conduct took shape.

No matter the era, no matter the occasion — when a matter of romantic scandal surfaced, people would invariably focus their gaze first upon the woman involved. Regardless of whether she was the wronged party in the matter, regardless of how high her position might be.

To be a woman meant, by nature, to be subjected to probing glances laden with insinuation from head to toe. This was the original sin.

And so Shen Xiao was very angry. Cui Jinzhi could employ any political means against him — even underhanded schemes — and there were ten thousand ways he could have impeached Shen Xiao. But why did he have to drag Li Shu into it?

Cui Jinzhi had been occupied entirely with his power struggle. He had given no thought whatsoever to how humiliating this would be for Li Shu afterward!

The person he had given everything to protect — and yet Cui Jinzhi had placed her in the midst of swords and fire. How had he ever deserved to be called her husband?

Shen Xiao clenched his fist and made his way into the palace precincts toward the government offices. Along the entire route, he did not know how many probing glances he had to meet. He had never been well-liked in the court — from his first day as an official, he had done nothing but make enemies. Now that such a massive affair had suddenly landed on him, those who openly or secretly mocked him were very numerous.

Shen Xiao arrived at the Department of the Imperial Secretariat precisely on time. When he stepped through the main hall, the other officials had long since arrived, a low drone of conversation filling the air. Upon seeing Shen Xiao enter, all talking ceased at once, and every gaze settled on his face.

Shen Xiao seemed not to feel it at all. He turned into the relative quiet of the side chamber, flipped back his official robes, and sat down. In a cold voice he issued the instruction: “Bring me whatever new memorials came in yesterday.”

He raised his eyes, and that pair of dark, weighted irises pressed forward. “Do not leave out a single one.”

Shen Xiao leaned back in his chair and listened to the low murmur of conversation resume outside. The fifth watch had just passed, and the autumn sun rose slowly, its light filtering through the window lattice and falling across his desk.

Shen Xiao drummed his fingers lightly, thinking: had she taken a carriage back to her residence by now, or had she simply gone to sleep at the Golden Jade Chamber? That daybed was not comfortable — if she really slept on it, she would not be able to stretch out fully, and would likely wake up with an aching body.

He had no means of truly showing concern, and could only turn things over and over in his mind.

By his calculation, correspondence back and forth with the Seventh Prince would take about five or six days. His Majesty’s patience would not extend much longer — within those five or six days, he would be expecting the petition for marriage to be submitted.

In truth, His Majesty’s intent was more one of probing than of genuinely wishing to see the marriage made.

Shen Xiao had considered taking the gamble. If he truly submitted the petition, there was a more-than-even chance that His Majesty would refuse on account of the male consort affair — at which point he would have cleared his name and also avoided the marriage.

But… Shen Xiao had no wish to submit the petition. He could not place the hopes for his entire second half of life upon the unpredictable heart of an emperor.

Emperor Zhengyuan’s feelings toward his lower-born children were exceedingly thin. Shen Xiao had previously assumed that Li Shu — a princess who had climbed out from the cold palace — must have reached her position today because His Majesty cherished her greatly. But in fact, it was not so. His Majesty’s regard for her was in truth far more exploitation than affection — and now look at what he had driven her to become.

There was no one around her who truly loved her.

Her husband had schemed by every means to harm her. Her father had pushed her without mercy. Her crown prince elder brother had ruthlessly sought to kill her. If she had not ground her heart into something hard and cold, she would not have known how to endure all these years.

And so, between power and feeling, she had abandoned the latter. Shen Xiao did not truly blame her for it.

He did not know why — but he just had that kind of forbearance for her.

Perhaps, as she herself had mocked, he was just born with a taste for punishment.

Shen Xiao feared that if he took the gamble and submitted the petition, there was a chance His Majesty might truly disregard Jincheng’s face and take this opportunity to push her into a political marriage with a man of humble origin.

And the matter of the male consort?

Once the Emperor had given his word, declaring that Shen Xiao had never served as a male consort — then he simply had not. Shen Xiao’s exonerating memorial was a private document; no one else knew of it. By that point, His Majesty could condemn Cui Jinzhi in a few words for making baseless accusations, clearing Shen Xiao’s past and sending him forward — pure and unblemished — to become a royal consort.

The one-in-ten-thousand possibility was one he could not risk. He could not marry someone else. If he married someone else — what would become of her.

There was no other way. He could only take the worst path. Even if the price would be higher.

Shen Xiao drew out a sheet of writing paper and composed a private letter to Li Qin, who was far away supervising the Yellow River embankment works.

If he left Chang’an, would she miss him?

—

The third day.

News traveled slowly within the inner palace — especially anything from the outer court, which barely filtered through at all. Jincheng had no particular connections to rely upon, and her information was exceedingly scarce.

But this time it was different. This time the matter touched upon Li Shu and Shen Xiao — one her revered elder sister, and the other… that Lord Shen.

How could someone like Lord Shen have ever served as a male consort?

When Jincheng first heard the news, she had been momentarily stunned. By instinct she was reluctant to believe it — half out of trust in Li Shu, and half out of the blind faith she herself clung to.

And besides — Imperial Father had not yet demoted or censured Lord Shen on account of this. Did that not mean something?

Jincheng had spent the entire journey thinking it over before the carriage stopped outside Princess Pingyang’s residence. Yesterday Li Shu had sent an invitation, specifically asking her to come to the residence for a visit.

When Jincheng stepped out of the carriage, it was nearly midday — yet the handmaiden led her all the way to Li Shu’s bedchamber. Li Shu sat before her dressing mirror in only a single layer of clothing, having apparently just risen not long ago, while a handmaiden was combing out her hair.

Jincheng drew close and called out: “Sister Pingyang.” Li Shu turned and gave her a faint smile, but the depths of her eyes were clearly without any smile — only weariness.

Not the weariness of insufficient rest, but rather… the weariness of having lost interest in everything, yet being compelled by obligation to go on.

And so Jincheng could not help but think again of the matter between Sister Pingyang and Lord Shen. The two of them… truly?

But Li Shu had no wish to explain. She rose and drew Jincheng forward, settling her before the dressing mirror, then stood behind her, her gaze looking downward at Jincheng.

“Why are you still wearing last autumn’s clothes?” She furrowed her brow slightly, with a trace of displeasure.

Jincheng quickly explained: “The Empress has not been managing affairs lately, so this season’s clothing has not been distributed yet.”

The Empress was under house restriction, and the inner palace was in disarray. And Emperor Zhengyuan did not particularly concern himself with the inner palace.

Upon hearing this, Li Shu turned and gave the instruction: “Hong Luo — did I not just have several new garments made recently? Go pick out whichever fit Jincheng, and bring them over.”

Jincheng quickly moved to decline, but Li Shu raised one eyebrow — not with any impatience — and Jincheng immediately fell silent, only murmuring: “Thank you, Sister.”

Li Shu gave an indifferent sound of acknowledgment and looked again at the hair ornaments on her head — also somewhat old and in modest quality. So she lifted her hand lightly, and a handmaiden stepped forward, pulling open the drawers of the dressing table one after another. The gleam of pearls and precious stones filled the eye.

Li Shu said casually: “See what suits Jincheng.”

The handmaiden answered and came forward to undo Jincheng’s hair. Jincheng’s heart was puzzled — was it that Sister Pingyang’s purpose in asking her to visit today was simply to dress her up? How could she, in good conscience, accept so many fine things from her elder sister without cause?

Yet when she looked sideways, Li Shu was standing to one side with arms folded, her head tilted slightly downward. Though her expression showed nothing, Jincheng could sense the quiet desolation that pervaded her entire person.

This afternoon, Li Shu was going to take Jincheng to meet Shen Xiao. After all, they were to be husband and wife — to spend an entire lifetime together — and if they could cultivate their feeling for each other, so much the better.

That was why she had wanted Jincheng to be properly dressed.

No princess or prince in the inner palace was ill-favored — those whom the Emperor had deigned to notice and bestow favor upon were naturally all of decent appearance, and their children would be no different.

Jincheng had only grown accustomed to keeping her head down and making herself small, which made her appear timid and meek. But if she were to carry herself with the bearing of a princess, she had a dignified, composed look about her — quite presentable.

Shen Xiao will like her, Li Shu thought, looking at Jincheng in the mirror — a fifteen-year-old girl who needed no powder or rouge; hers was a naturally sweet and lovely color.

Unlike herself — the moment she was short of rest, her complexion was a bloodless pallor. With wounds on her lips, it looked even more raw and haggard. Without powder and rouge, her entire face wore an expression of world-weary indifference.

Li Shu looked at her own reflection in the mirror and thought: how could Shen Xiao like someone like her? He must have read late into the nights until he had ruined his eyes — that was the only way he could have taken a fancy to such a person as she.