When Jinxi returned to the city, she learned that Huaiwei and Li Xuandu’s wife had both gone out — the details she gathered suggested that Huaiwei had seen her ride out and had gone after her, followed shortly by Pu Zhu and Li Xuandu as well. The exact destination was unknown, but from the details she pieced together, the reason seemed to be that she herself had been seen riding out of the city, and Huaiwei had given chase. Then Pu Zhu and Li Xuandu had followed after him in turn.

Though both of them had gone along with him, as night fell deeper and the three still had not returned, Jinxi grew increasingly worried. She also turned over in her mind whether her visit to see Jiang Yi had been witnessed by her son, and whether he might have misunderstood. Her heart grew more and more anxious.

She sent people out of the city to look for them, and waited in the palace herself. She waited until close to midnight before word came that they had all returned safely. She breathed a sigh of relief and immediately went out. She walked to the courtyard outside her chamber and encountered her son, who came rushing in. Both mother and son stopped in their tracks at the same moment.

The lamplight fell on Huaiwei’s face.

Perhaps it was from riding into the wind out on the open road for so long — his hair was wild and disheveled, and his eyes were slightly reddened.

Jinxi saw her son staring at her with those slightly reddened eyes, wide and unblinking. Her heart gave a sudden lurch.

But she only hesitated for a moment. She immediately stepped down from the stairs and walked toward him, extending her hand, just about to explain why she had ridden out of the city that evening — when suddenly she saw him come running up and bury himself headlong into her arms, holding her tightly.

Her son was only thirteen years old, yet he was tall and well-built — already taller than her.

But in her eyes, he was always the same as when he was small.

Her son himself, however, clearly did not see it the same way.

It was just within the past year or two — Jinxi felt, without knowing quite when it had changed — that he seemed to have grown reluctant to be affectionate with her the way he had been as a child. To say nothing of making a gesture like this one, throwing himself into her arms.

She was startled.

This was the reaction he had when he was little and had been wronged, or when he couldn’t bear to part from her — holding her tight and refusing to let go.

She became even more certain: her son must have found out about her meeting with Jiang Yi. Perhaps he feared she would drift away from him now, abandon him, and want him no more.

A complicated feeling welled up inside her.

It was a mother’s love for her child. And beneath it, a quiet ache.

On one side: her darling child, clinging to her just as when he was small, refusing to let go.

On the other: that man who had waited in silence for half her life, and today, seeing her again after so long, had only stood and gazed at her from across the river.

She felt guilty toward her son, and guilty toward that man.

She slowly closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened them, wrapped her arms around her son’s broad back, and softly patted him, speaking gently in a comforting voice: “Huaiwei — you saw, didn’t you? Don’t misunderstand. Your mother will always be your mother. Your mother promises you — she will never not want you…”

The young man in her arms suddenly pressed his face against her chest, the way he used to do as a child, and quietly wiped away his tears. Then he lifted his head, let her go, and said in a loud voice: “Mother, it is you who has misunderstood! When I’ve taken a wife, you can become a princess again! Tonight I went to find the General — he has something with him that he will return to you one day!”

Jinxi’s eyelashes gave the faintest tremor.

She looked intently at her son. After a moment, she softly called his name.

“Huaiwei…” But the moment the sound left her lips, she stopped again. She saw him raise his hand and quickly wipe his eyes.

“Mother, when I was little and went to the capital, I met the General for the first time at the post station. Even then I could feel that he liked me very much. Now I understand why. He likes you too, Mother — he likes you tremendously. When you like someone, you want to be with her. If you can’t be together — how heartbreaking must that be? I don’t want you two to be heartbroken. I’ll rule my kingdom well. When I’m grown, I’ll take a wife like Fourth Brother did — someone like Fourth Sister-in-law to stay with me!”

“That way, Mother, you can be at ease!”

He said his piece, looked at his mother, squared his shoulders, and put on an expression of unusual gravity.

Jinxi gazed at this half-grown boy before her, and her eyes slowly reddened.

Regardless of what the future held — whether she would truly be able, as her son said, to let go of his hand and leave this land she had once lived on, this land that had bound her for so many years — at this moment, hearing her son make her such a solemn vow, her emotion was beyond words.

“Huaiwei!”

Tears fell from her eyes. She reached out and pulled her son into her arms once more.

Huaiwei had been thinking of the day when this beautiful and gentle mother of his would leave him, and had grown heartsick and unable to contain it — he had thrown himself headlong into her arms. Now that his feelings had calmed, being pulled back into her embrace like this felt awkward to him. But seeing that his mother was in tears, how could he dare struggle free? He had no choice but to hold perfectly still and shrink obediently in her arms.

Then it suddenly occurred to him — Fourth Brother and Fourth Sister-in-law had both come to see him home just now…

He turned his head, and sure enough, there really did seem to be two shadowy figures still standing behind a cluster of flowering branches at the courtyard gate. He instantly felt deeply uncomfortable. Still murmuring softly to soothe his mother — “All right, all right, Mother, don’t cry…” — he twisted and squirmed, trying to wriggle his way out of his mother’s arms.

Li Xuandu and Pu Zhu shared a smile. He reached out and took her slender hand, and the two quietly slipped away.

Half a month later, the Prince of Qin and his wife said their farewells to Jinxi, led the remaining forces of the Western Regions coalition, and departed Yinyue City, setting out on the journey home.

The road stretched long and far, the east separated from the west by great distances. After this parting, when they would meet again, no one could say.

Huaiwei saw them off, and after leaving the city gates, saw them along the road one stage at a time, escorting them dozens of li out before finally parting from his Fourth Brother and Fourth Sister-in-law in tearful farewell.

The march thereafter went without incident, and they returned smoothly to Shuangshi City.

Li Xuandu prepared to make a brief stop here.

The kings of the many large and small kingdoms of the Western Regions had learned the news long ago: the Prince of Qin would soon be returning to the capital to ascend the throne as Emperor. Upon hearing in recent days that he was coming back, they had gathered from all four directions ahead of time to receive and pay homage to him, and now were vying with one another to send their princes as hostages and to petition for delegations to accompany the party to the capital.

These past years Li Xuandu had been pressed on all sides by his affairs and never free for a moment. Now that he had returned to the Protectorate Mansion, he was once again busy and without a moment’s rest. Yet there was also one welcome comfort.

He was finally able to reunite with his wife, to be together morning and evening, with every pleasure of a shared life.

On this particular day, it happened to be Luan’er’s first birthday.

When their son had turned one month old, Pu Zhu had brought him to He Xi. At that time, for various reasons, they had not made a large celebration. Now that his first birthday had arrived — the Eastern Di had been crushed and peace had settled across all four borders — it was cause for double celebration. That day, the Protectorate Mansion held a great banquet to mark the occasion, not only rewarding the soldiers — every man given meat and wine — but also filling the fortified estate with distinguished guests, full of laughter and lively noise. The kings, queens, nobles, and other honored guests who were fortunate enough to be invited to attend the Prince of Qin’s son’s first birthday celebration — including Madam Shuang, the Elder Princess, Li Hui’er, and others — all gathered together, talking and laughing, awaiting the centerpiece event of the day: the first-birthday lot-drawing ceremony.

Li Xuandu and Pu Zhu appeared with their son. He smiled contentedly, personally carrying his son in his arms, with Ju A’mu, Nanny Wang, Luo Bao, and the others following behind.

The father was of rare and striking handsomeness; the mother was a beauty without equal. The child they had produced — Luan’er — was naturally as lovely as a painting, like snow and jade. Today he was dressed in a fresh new outfit, with a gold collar around his neck. His little hands and feet were plump and round, his eyes big and shining like jet-black lacquer, and when he smiled, two tiny snow-white front teeth appeared. Utterly adorable.

He was carried by his father and sat down in a large gilded round tray placed in the center of the main hall, surrounded on all sides by small objects. Naturally, items representing intelligence and bravery for a boy — brush pens, books, a small wooden sword, a small bow, and the like — had all been placed deliberately within easy reach of his hands.

Once he was settled, Ju A’mu came forward and guided the little one toward the objects closest to him.

Luan’er looked around, and his gaze landed on a jade-barreled writing brush — the closest thing to his little feet. He reached out a hand and grabbed it.

The crowd was delighted and was just about to cheer, praising him as a star of literary genius reborn, when they saw him gnaw on it once, then “puh” — spit out the brush, reach back, and grab a gold ingot. He played with it for a couple of turns, then dropped the ingot too and grabbed the small wooden sword instead.

Laughter filled the room. Everyone in attendance offered flattery: the young lord, when he grew up, would surely possess both civil and military accomplishments, a dragon and phoenix among men.

Just as the merriment was at its height, word came suddenly from outside: a party of envoys had arrived from the capital.

The arrivals were the two imperial clansmen and the palace supervisor Song Changsheng, who had been sent by the court half a year earlier to He Xi to escort the Prince of Qin back to the capital and ascend the throne.

When the three of them had arrived at He Xi on that day, it so happened that Mili had launched his attack on the Western Di, and Li Xuandu had already marched west on campaign.

Unable to find the person they were looking for, naturally they could not return to the capital. They had therefore remained stranded in He Xi, waiting in misery for almost half a year. Finally they received word that the Prince of Qin had achieved a great victory in the Western Expedition. They were soon besieged by fresh urgent messages from the capital demanding they escort him back as quickly as possible. The three deliberated and came to an agreement: if they waited inside the pass, there was no telling how long it would be before the Prince of Qin and his wife crossed back in. Better to bring their own party out of the pass and head directly to the Western Regions Protectorate Mansion to collect them in person.

By a happy coincidence, they arrived on this very day, right in the middle of the young lord’s first birthday celebration. The three were escorted into the hall of celebration, where they offered their congratulations to the Prince of Qin and his Consort. Without pausing to rest from the rigors of their journey, Song Changsheng drew from a long case strapped to his back the imperial edict that the late Emperor Mingzong had left behind, and read it aloud before the assembly.

Every person in the hall dropped to their knees to hear the edict.

The great hall that had moments before been filled with laughter and cheer fell completely silent.

Outside the door, many soldiers had also gathered upon hearing the news. Seeing this, they knelt in a great wave as well.

The atmosphere was solemn beyond measure. Only the young lord, Luan’er, sat alone on the table, clutching his little wooden sword in hand, eyes wide and curious, staring at these uninvited visitors.

Pu Zhu hurried forward and picked him up, then came back, holding her son, and knelt together with Li Xuandu, her head bowed to receive the edict.

Song Changsheng read aloud the late Emperor Mingzong’s imperial edict in full, then presented it with both hands to Li Xuandu. He immediately led the assembled company to kneel before him once more and perform the full ceremony of obeisance, saying solemnly: “All the officials of the court and the tens of millions of the common people long for Your Majesty to succeed to the great succession and ascend the throne at the earliest opportunity, to receive the divine vessel, and to bring peace to ten thousand states. Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years, ten thousand years!”

His words fell, and from within the great hall and beyond its gates, a resounding cry of “Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years!” immediately rose up.

Li Xuandu held in his hands this edict left by his father. His gaze fell upon it, and he remained motionless — his expression somewhere between bewilderment and quiet contemplation.

Pu Zhu was worried their son might be frightened into crying. She carefully raised one hand to cover his ear from the side, trying to help muffle the sound. But to her surprise, the little one was roused by it instead. Far from being afraid, he grew excited — with a smack, he dropped the small wooden sword he’d been clutching, his eyes went perfectly round, and he wriggled and squirmed in Pu Zhu’s arms, gurgling and babbling along with everyone around him, drawing no end of gazes toward him.

Pu Zhu was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to scold, and hurriedly hushed and coaxed her son in a soft voice.

Li Xuandu also turned and looked at his son, his gaze full of tenderness. On an impulse, he took the item his imperial grandfather had left behind and handed it to his son.

Oh? What was this? All shiny and gold-colored.

Luan’er was immediately drawn to this new thing. He stretched out his two little chubby hands and happily grasped hold of the new toy his father had passed to him.

Li Xuandu laughed, then rose to his feet. He helped Pu Zhu up from the ground as well, and as he did, took from her arms the son who was now clutching his imperial great-grandfather’s edict tightly in both hands. He held him in the crook of one arm, swept his gaze across the assembled company, and said: “All rise! Continue the feast!”