After returning from the banquet, Li Shuang seemed a bit dazed. Noticing the Western Rong envoy also returning from outside, she stared at him for a moment. The sharp-eyed old man quickly locked gazes with her, raising his cup slightly to toast her from afar.
Li Shuang remained motionless. Seeing this, Sima Yang lifted his cup and said, “General Li can’t handle much alcohol. Why don’t I drink this cup on her behalf, Envoy?”
The old man immediately spoke up, exchanging a few pleasantries before drinking and sitting down.
Not long after, Sima Yang claimed he couldn’t drink anymore and left early. With the emperor’s departure, the banquet slowly dispersed. As he left, Sima Yang deliberately walked over to Li Shuang, tapped her head lightly, and whispered, “If you can’t drink anymore, tell me in advance next time.”
His intimate attitude surpassed that of a ruler and subject, and even the imperial concubines likely didn’t receive such doting treatment from Sima Yang.
The astute ministers present would surely spread the word of the emperor’s affections throughout the court by the next day.
Li Shuang, however, just stared blankly at Sima Yang until he disappeared into the crowd. At that moment, she had no other thoughts. Fortunately, Sima Yang hadn’t noticed anything amiss, attributing her behavior to drunken sluggishness.
Li Shuang rubbed her brow, recalling the scene she’d witnessed earlier across the lake: Jin’an meeting with the Western Rong envoy. Though the night was dim, she couldn’t mistake Jin’an’s figure, and the old man leaning on a cane matched the envoy’s appearance perfectly.
The old man stood respectfully before Jin’an, bowing deferentially. This suggested that Jin’an held a high rank among Western Rong royalty. With the old king gone and a new one ascending, for the envoy to risk a clandestine meeting at the palace, Jin’an must be an important prince. His identity…
And for Jin’an to agree to meet the old man, he must have remembered his true identity.
Pondering this, his recent silence and thoughtful glances at her suddenly made sense. He’d remembered who he was. His body had merged with the parasitic insects, no longer changing between day and night. With his memory restored, he no longer clung to her as before. Jin’an… had likely returned to normal. Had he overcome the Jade Silkworm parasite?
Lost in her chaotic thoughts, Li Shuang absently returned to the general’s mansion. She sat motionless in her room for a long time, debating whether to seek Jin’an in his courtyard. Suddenly, she heard movement on the roof. As she turned, she saw Jin’an had somehow already entered the room.
She glanced at the empty, silent courtyard and the guards standing rigidly outside. Li Shuang closed the window as usual. Turning to face Jin’an, she looked into his eyes and suddenly felt a hint of unfamiliarity there.
“You’ve remembered who you are?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jin’an replied without evasion. “Aodeng, the new king’s only son.”
The only son of the new Western Rong king—upon returning, he would become crown prince and future king. Indeed, a most noble status.
Li Shuang fell silent for a moment before asking, “With such an identity, why didn’t Western Rong search for you when you disappeared?”
“The former king was paranoid. My father dared not deploy troops to search for me. Moreover, the Five Spirits Sect’s witch acted in secret, imprisoning me at the border between Great Jin and Western Rong. As you know, that area has always been tense, making investigation impossible.”
Li Shuang nodded. She knew the small forest where the dungeon was located had long been uninhabited. Though technically outside Great Jin’s borders, it was under their control. The Changfeng Camp kept watch daily, never allowing Western Rong troops to cross. Yet they only observed; barring incidents, they wouldn’t investigate the area. It was indeed an ideal hiding place.
“You came to find me today…” she began.
“I’m returning to Western Rong,” he interjected.
Jin’an rarely interrupted Li Shuang before. Whenever she spoke to him, it was like a gift from heaven. He would gaze at her intently, his eyes shining with her reflection alone.
Now he cut her off with words tinged with the coolness of farewell. He spoke without hesitation, merely informing Li Shuang of his decision.
Li Shuang remained silent for a long time before responding, “That’s for the best.” Her reply was equally businesslike as if concealing all emotion.
In truth, this was always the best outcome Li Shuang could envision: him remembering his identity, knowing his homeland, having a future beyond her, and having goals in life besides her. He was now an independent, complete person.
Beyond “That’s for the best,” Li Shuang truly didn’t know what else to say.
“I plan to leave in two days. The envoy will help me depart from Great Jin,” he continued.
“Mm.” Li Shuang nodded. “Don’t let the word spread. If His Majesty learns of your identity, he certainly won’t let you leave easily.”
Their conversation remained polite yet cold. Li Shuang avoided Jin’an’s gaze, afraid to see the courtesy and distance in his eyes. The Jin’an without memories had eyes only for her—he belonged to her. Now, this person was no longer Jin’an.
She stood for a while, then finally took a deep breath in the increasingly awkward silence and moved to open the door. “I’ll send the guards away. Find a time to return first. While in the general’s mansion, no one can touch you.”
Before she could open the door, Jin’an’s hand grasped her arm. The familiar warmth and scent, yet his words no longer felt familiar.
“I came today to thank you,” Jin’an said. “Thank you, General, for your recent care.”
Li Shuang’s lips trembled slightly. Suddenly, the window creaked open. She whirled around, but the room was empty.
She rushed to the window and looked out. Only the guards peered cautiously into the courtyard, asking, “General? Do you have any orders?”
“No,” Li Shuang replied. “It was stuffy. I opened the window for some air.”
She sat down in the room, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Rubbing her chest, she took several deep breaths, feeling inexplicably constricted despite being neither ill nor injured.
It felt as if something had been ripped away, leaving a painful, oppressive ache that defied description.
Still, this outcome was good, she told herself. Everything had returned to its proper course.
Li Shuang sat before the mirror all night, thinking thus. As dawn approached, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the general’s mansion—an extremely rare occurrence.
Soon after, the head steward hurriedly sought out Li Shuang.
“Someone’s come from the palace with an imperial edict, demanding the northern guest’s immediate audience with His Majesty. The Imperial Dragon Guards have arrived with swords drawn. The General is currently receiving them in the main hall… Ah! Young Miss!”
Before he could finish speaking, Li Shuang sprinted towards the northern courtyard. As she approached, she saw Dragon Guards advancing from another path.
Heart racing, Li Shuang used her lightness skill to leap into Jin’an’s courtyard. Surveying the area, she didn’t see him. Just as she pushed open the door to his room, a voice behind her asked, “What’s wrong?”
Li Shuang turned to see Jin’an holding a sword, sweat glistening on his brow as if he’d been practicing for some time. “I was practicing swordplay when I heard someone approaching,” he explained.
His senses were sharper than anyone’s.
“No time to explain. You need to leave now,” Li Shuang urged. “If you disappear, they’ll lock the city gates immediately. Don’t rush to leave the city. There’s an abandoned courtyard behind the Bai Temple in the southern part of town with an underground chamber. It has everything you need. Hide there and wait for things to calm down before finding a way back to Western Rong.”
Li Shuang spoke rapidly, but the Dragon Guards’ heavy footsteps could already be heard outside. Jin’an remained calm, his eyes narrowing with a sharp glint. “Qin Lan?” he guessed the informant’s identity.
Li Shuang said nothing, pushing Jin’an. “Trust no one. Go.”
Jin’an gazed at Li Shuang, the scene reminding him of that night in the northern frontier. In the stone chamber, forced to part from Li Shuang due to the witch’s arrival. Before losing consciousness, Li Shuang had looked at him just like this—brow furrowed with unresolvable worry, making him want to pull her into his arms and kiss away the creases between her eyebrows.
But there was no time left; the guards were almost upon them…
With a loud bang, the Dragon Guards burst in. Li Shuang snatched up a sword from the ground and pointed it at the courtyard gate, her starry eyes flashing like the cold gleam of a blade.
The Dragon Guards were startled.
Li Shuang held the sword at her side. “Dragon Guards?” she asked, puzzled. “Why have His Majesty’s guards barged into my mansion so early in the morning?”
“General,” the leader, Tian Shoudu, addressed her. He was Sima Yang’s confidant, having grown up with the emperor. He and Li Shuang had been acquainted before, but their relationship had cooled since her departure for the northern frontier. Now meeting again, his manner was extremely formal. “We’ve come on imperial orders to invite the esteemed guest here to an audience with His Majesty. We apologize for the intrusion, General.”
“Oh? This place houses only a commoner who once helped me. How did he become His Majesty’s esteemed guest?” Li Shuang inquired.
“That, I do not know. We ask for the General’s cooperation,” Tian Shoudu replied.
Li Shuang nodded, smiling politely. “If it’s an imperial edict, I must comply. However, I haven’t seen the person in this courtyard since returning to the mansion yesterday. I was hoping to discuss swordsmanship with him today, but he hasn’t shown up. Captain, perhaps you can wait for him in my stead.”
She placed the sword on a stone table in the courtyard and gestured inside, inviting the Dragon Guards to search.
Tian Shoudu studied Li Shuang for a moment before waving his men into the courtyard. Their search proved fruitless. Li Shuang stood casually to one side with her arms folded. Tian Shoudu left two men in the courtyard and departed with the rest.
After they left, Li Shuang turned to see her uncles and cousins rushing over, alarmed by the commotion. Li Xing, his hair still disheveled from sleep, came to find her. “Sister, who exactly is this person you rescued? Why have the Dragon Guards come to arrest him?”
Li Shuang shook her head. “I don’t know either.”
At first, she truly didn’t know.
But when Li Shuang asked herself if she would have gone to South Changshan to save him had she known his identity from the beginning, the frightening thing was that her first thought was—”Yes.”
She would still have recklessly saved him, just as she had done today.