Sunlight cast branch shadows on the window paper, gradually slanting westward.

A few petals of rosy powder fell from the peach blossom branch in the porcelain vase, while the peach blossom painted with red blood beneath Yu Lingxi’s collarbone blossomed inch by inch, brilliantly flowering.

Yu Lingxi’s cheeks, like the peach blossoms on her body, took on a charming redness. Her breathing became too hurried, causing her to turn her head and cough twice.

Ning Yin immediately raised his eyes to look at her, his thin lips lightly flushed, his slightly upturned eyes tinged with intimate darkness.

Their eyes met. Yu Lingxi’s gaze rippled like water as she deliberately said, “I’m dizzy, I have no strength left.”

The beauty reclining among the embroidered pile was just recovering from serious illness, the corners of her eyes reddened, appearing delicately fragile, quite pitiful.

In the past, Ning Yin would have lazily teased: “How unreasonable, Suisui’s flower blooms, yet she cares not whether her husband lives or dies.”

But today, he surprisingly didn’t try to discern the truth of her words. After looking at her for a moment, he slowly rose, placing a kiss on her moist eyelashes, then pulled over a blanket to cover the flower painting emerging on her thin shoulder.

Lowering his eyelashes, his cold, white, slender fingers methodically caressed her, smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt one inch at a time.

Ning Yin’s clothes were neat, still extremely elegant. His high-quality deep purple princely robe hung impeccably over the edge of the couch and beneath his white jade belt…

Well, perhaps not so elegant after all.

Yu Lingxi felt somewhat embarrassed, but after a while, she glanced again and quietly asked, “Are you… alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Ning Yin, expressionless, pinched Yu Lingxi’s nape, making her shrink her neck, before he lightly laughed, “To suffocate in Suisui’s embrace would not be a bad way to go.”

Yu Lingxi wanted to cover his mouth.

Ning Yin rose from the couch to wash his hands, wiping them clean with a handkerchief. As he sat down, he glimpsed the half-unfolded register of successful imperial examination candidates beside the desk and casually picked it up to look through it.

Several names had been circled on it. For some important ones, helpful notes had been written in cinnabar ink, describing the person’s suitable position and abilities.

Ning Yin looked at it for a long time, then said with interest, “Suisui’s eye for people is remarkably similar to mine.”

Yu Lingxi felt somewhat guilty: these people had all been his right-hand supporters in her previous life—how could they not match his preferences?

“I’ve seen Zhou Yunqing’s essays, they critique current affairs with bold, open strokes.”

Ning Yin pointed at the heavily circled name. “For a poor scholar who once received help from the Tang household to have such insight—quite interesting.”

“He’s quiet and reserved, yet impartial and upright; he could serve in the Court of Judicial Review.”

The flower mark had faded, and Yu Lingxi’s thoughts became clearer. Leaning on the couch as if boneless, she smiled, “These few people are all well-known; perhaps they can help you. As for how to use them, my husband will need to investigate and select them himself…”

Then, as if thinking of something, her voice imperceptibly softened.

If Ning Yin truly planned to retreat from the world with her, far from the imperial court, these talented individuals naturally could no longer belong to him.

Those years of ministers bowing their heads, of looking down upon the world, would ultimately remain in the distant previous life.

For some reason, a trace of regret secretly arose in her heart.

Ning Yin made decisions precisely and quickly. In the moment Yu Lingxi was lost in thought, he had already risen and summoned an attendant.

“After Zhou, the third-place scholar, rode through the streets with the first and second-place scholars, his whereabouts became unknown.”

The guard said, “I’ve inquired, and he hasn’t returned to his lodgings…”

Ning Yin closed the register, giving a cold sidelong glance.

The guard realized his mistake, tensed his posture, and immediately corrected himself: “I’ll order someone to invite him right away!”

Yu Lingxi rose from the couch, thought for a moment, then smiled lightly: “Perhaps I know where he is.”

…

Tang Buli had been quite troubled lately.

Her grandmother had passed away just two months ago. The mourning period wasn’t over, yet matchmakers had been coming to her door one after another, seemingly taking advantage of her status as a lone girl with no one to make decisions for her, coveting the Tang household’s substantial wealth.

If they were proposing secondary sons from noble families, it would be acceptable—at least they would have some breeding from their prestigious backgrounds.

But recently, those proposing through matchmakers were increasingly unsavory.

“…Although he’s taking a country lady as his second wife, as the saying goes, a man who’s lost a wife is a treasure who knows how to cherish people. Moreover, Scholar Li passed the imperial examination this spring, ranking eleventh! Once he takes office, he’ll surely rise to prominence.”

The matchmaker clutched her handkerchief, shamefully exaggerating the man’s virtues to the heavens. “He’s truly a person of both talent and looks. If the lady marries him, she can live in a mansion like a palace, be fed with golden spoons, be carried in a glass palanquin when going out—a lifetime of endless glory and wealth, with someone who knows her needs. Isn’t that better than struggling to maintain the family business alone? Ah, for us women, being born well isn’t as good as marrying well—it’s always been so.”

Tang Buli was fuming as she listened.

This Li was old enough to be her father. She was a beautiful eighteen-year-old; why should she marry a middle-aged man as his second wife?

She had never been a weak-willed person. Untying the long whip from her waist and flicking it, she shattered the cup in the matchmaker’s hand with a crack, and sternly said, “Uncle Tang, see the guest out!”

The matchmaker was frightened stiff, then her expression stiffened, and she rose awkwardly.

“The lady has high standards, but unfortunately there’s only one prince in the court. Even with a princess as a close friend, you don’t have the fate to become a princess yourself.”

The matchmaker smiled apologetically, but her words stabbed at Tang Buli’s core. “If a new imperial scholar can’t catch your eye, who in the capital would dare to propose to you in the future!”

Tang Buli let out a cold laugh, tugging at her whip. “What are you saying? Keep speaking in that sinister tone, and this lady will tear out your tongue!”

The matchmaker, fearful of her whip, grimaced and walked out.

Only after leaving the Tang household gates did she quietly spit and mutter, “A fallen household without father or mother, yet still dreams of marrying one of the top three scholars?”

Just as she was muttering, a cold voice came from a nearby palanquin: “According to our dynasty’s laws, those who slander others will, at minimum, receive twenty slaps on the mouth, or at worst, implicate their entire family.”

The matchmaker turned in surprise, examining the new small palanquin, not knowing which noble was inside.

The palanquin was set down, and immediately two elegant fingers lifted the curtain. A young gentleman in a crimson robe with a black belt stepped out with a bow.

This young man wasn’t extraordinarily handsome, but he was fair and tall, with a clean, cool temperament—a righteous man steeped in scholarly learning.

The matchmaker, having seen many people, immediately recognized his black cap adorned with silver velvet flowers and the red robe that only the top three imperial scholars were qualified to wear…

And among the top three scholars, only the third-place scholar would be this age.

Realizing she had just offended this new noble, the matchmaker completely changed her expression, hurriedly made a bow in apology, and fled.

Uncle Tang, who had come out to discard tea leaves, witnessed this scene at the gate and hurried back to report.

“Miss, he… he’s here!”

Uncle Tang, with his protruding belly, ran out of breath.

“Who’s here?” Tang Buli looked puzzled. “Has that loose-tongued matchmaker returned?”

“No… no!”

Uncle Tang supported himself on his knees, took a deep breath, and said, “The third-place scholar Zhou Yunqing, Young Master Zhou is here!”

Tang Buli spat out a mouthful of tea.

She froze for a moment before realizing who the name belonged to.

“What?”

Tang Buli suddenly stood up, inexplicably embarrassed. “Given my current situation, why has he come?”

Remembering how resolutely she had driven him away, she felt somewhat guilty.

It was the day after the Double Seventh Festival.

When she told him to pack up and leave quickly, Zhou Yunqing said nothing, only buried his head in frantically copying essays. Sheet after sheet of white paper filled the entire humble room, and his eyes were silent and desolate.

“Could it be that he harbors resentment for being thrown out back then, so he’s come to mock and seek revenge?” Tang Buli couldn’t help but think.

“I worry about that too.”

Uncle Tang sighed, good-naturedly advising, “Back then, the young miss should have left some face for him.”

“What use is saying this now?”

The fearless County Lady of Qingping now began to panic, hurriedly instructing, “Uncle Tang, go close the door! Don’t let him in!”

Uncle Tang accepted the order and withdrew, only to return moments later, sweating profusely, with furrowed brows: “It’s too late, the third-place scholar is standing at the main gate, and it seems he insists on seeing the young miss.”

Tang Buli collapsed into her chair.

She could endure the calculations of relatives, the mockery of others, wielding her whip to drive them all out of the estate, but with Zhou Yunqing alone…

As if bewitched, with him alone she showed fear.

When her grandmother was gravely ill, her mood wasn’t good, and indeed, she hadn’t handled things very properly.

After much hesitation, Tang Buli gripped the whip at her waist.

Enough, a quick death is better than a slow torment. No matter how impressive the third-place scholar is, isn’t he just a scholar? If she can’t outargue him, can’t she beat him?

Having made up her mind, Tang Buli bit her lip and strode toward the door.

Zhou Yunqing was indeed standing before the gate, standing straight, without the slightest impatience.

That crimson robe of the third-place scholar had stripped away his former poverty-stricken air, making his face appear as fine as jade.

Tang Buli paused her steps before continuing forward, warily asking, “What do you want?”

Seeing her unfriendly tone, Zhou Yunqing was somewhat surprised, but quickly lowered his eyes, returning to his former submissive demeanor.

He wasn’t good with words; it took him a long time to speak a single sentence. But once spoken, it was always incisive and sharp.

Zhou Yunqing opened his lips, and Tang Buli immediately tensed.

She huffed, wondering whether Zhou Yunqing would first boast of his current achievements or first mock her present destitution.

“The County Lady’s deep generosity in supporting me, Zhou will never forget. Now returning in glory, I’ve come specially to express my gratitude.”

With that, the third-place scholar solemnly gathered his sleeves and performed a deep bow.

“…”

The wind passed without sound, and all around was silent.

Tang Buli: “Huh?”

…

Yu Lingxi stopped taking medicine today. The imperial physician said that on this fine spring day, she should go out for more walks.

Ning Yin arranged a carriage and personally escorted her to the palace to appreciate flowers.

The road to the palace wasn’t far, but it was very crowded. People packed in front of various rice shops, all scrambling to buy rice and flour.

Yu Lingxi knew that with the court recently bereaved and leaderless, people were anxious. Once the war with the Yan tribe began, grain prices would surely soar, so households throughout the capital were stockpiling grain.

It seemed no one had confidence in the current Wei Dynasty, after all, this court hadn’t even established its ruler.

Just as she was watching with alarm, her view was obstructed as someone behind her lowered the carriage curtain.

Ning Yin reached out and gently turned Yu Lingxi’s head. Despite the noisy streets, those pitch-black eyes remained calm and cool, showing not a ripple of disturbance.

Yu Lingxi looked puzzled, her soft eyelashes blinking lightly: “What’s wrong?”

Ning Yin half-squinted his eyes, looked at her for a while, then said slowly: “Your lipstick is smudged.”

Yu Lingxi instinctively raised her hand to touch the corner of her mouth. Indeed, her fingertips were stained with a faint red—the result of Ning Yin’s reckless biting and kissing earlier.

She hurriedly took out a handkerchief and wiped the corner of her lips forcefully, softly complaining: “It’s all your fault.”

She had lifted the carriage curtain and looked outside for so long, yet hadn’t noticed her lipstick was smudged. If someone had seen it, it would have been too embarrassing.

Ning Yin laughed, without the slightest remorse. Instead, he leaned his head closer, using his lips to clean away the remaining trace of lipstick.

In the northern garden of the Imperial Palace stood a pavilion with an excellent view.

Climbing to the seventh floor, one could see the vast expanse of Penglai Pool’s emerald waves, with clusters of flowers. Countless snow-white pear blossoms weighed down the branches, floating and falling in a thick layer of white with the ripples.

The pavilion was furnished with fine wine and delicacies, with incense burning in beast-shaped censers.

Yu Lingxi leaned against the railing and gazed into the distance, feeling her heart open and her thoughts surge.

Ning Yin had no fondness for planting flowers, and consequently, there wasn’t a hint of spring color in the Prince of Jing’s residence. Just as Yu Lingxi was contemplating whether to transplant a few pear and peach trees into the residence, she felt a tightness around her waist as Ning Yin pressed against her from behind.

Yu Lingxi softened her body, fanning herself helplessly: “Aren’t you hot?”

Ning Yin held her even tighter, as if the more uncomfortable they were from the heat, the happier he became.

“Do you like pear blossoms?”

His voice pressed against her ear, deep and tingling. “It’s a pity there’s no white-red blood in the world.”

Well, it seemed His Highness the Prince of Jing was also thinking about how to “plant flowers.”

“I like them.”

Yu Lingxi took a deep breath of the flower-scented air, thought for a moment, and said, “When our hair is as white as these pear blossoms, we’ll still support each other and come here to view the flowers.”

Ning Yin rarely thought about “the future.” He had once been a person without a future.

But now, hearing Yu Lingxi’s thoughts about the future, he inexplicably felt that it would be an extremely beautiful picture.

Old lady Suisui, holding old man Ning Yin’s arm, walking slowly step by step, the sunset behind them casting long shadows, inseparable.

Ning Yin laughed out loud.

Yu Lingxi didn’t know what he was laughing about. Just as she was concentrating, she suddenly saw a gallant military officer with a bow and arrow on her back, leading subordinates on patrol.

In the sunlight, the female warrior walked with wind in her steps, so heroic that one couldn’t look away.

Yu Lingxi’s eyes brightened: “Elder Sister!”

The late spring sunshine was already somewhat scorching. Yu Lingxi guessed that her sister would have to run for half a day in this blazing sun, surely very exhausting. She scratched Ning Yin’s palm with her finger, just about to order someone to send some cool soup to her sister when she saw a young man in brocade robes approaching quickly from outside the palace gate.

Ning Zishuo called out something, and her sister turned around.

The wind blew, snow fell, and pear blossoms rained down. Ning Zishuo hurriedly raised his sleeve to shield her sister from the fluttering falling flowers.

Though they were two people with unruly personalities, standing together they created a harmonious and beautiful picture.

Yu Lingxi’s mouth quirked upward, and she abandoned the idea of sending cool soup.

Ning Yin pressed his finger on her upturned mouth corner and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Yu Lingxi took a deep breath of the fresh air, turned her head gently, and looked seriously at Ning Yin.

She thought of the aggressive Yan tribe’s disturbances, the chaotic capital, and the awkward, protective young man under the pear blossoms just now…

Her thoughts converged at that moment, gradually becoming clear.

Her eyes reflected the vast waves of the lake, the picturesque floating clouds, and also Ning Yin’s handsome face.

The wind stopped, the swaying pear blossoms calmed, but the light in Yu Lingxi’s eyes did not disappear.

She said softly: “Ning Yin, you should become emperor.”

Ning Yin’s fingertips paused slightly, his black eyes bottomless, saying nothing.