After returning to the banquet, Li Shuang appeared somewhat dazed. Seeing the Western Rong envoy also return from outside, she stared at him for a while. The old man’s gaze was sharp, and he quickly fixed his eyes on Li Shuang, raising his wine cup in a distant toast to her.
Li Shuang didn’t move, but Sima Yang, noticing this, raised his cup first: “Since General Li cannot handle more wine, shall I drink this cup on her behalf, Envoy?”
The old man immediately spoke up with a few polite phrases before drinking and sitting down.
Not long after, Sima Yang claimed an inability to drink more and left first. As the emperor departed, he specifically detoured to Li Shuang’s side, tapping her head lightly and saying softly: “If you can’t drink anymore, tell me in advance next time.”
His attitude was intimate, far exceeding the normal bounds of ruler and subject—even among the imperial concubines, few likely received such doting treatment from Sima Yang.
The officials present were all astute; the emperor’s intentions would spread throughout the court by the next day.
Yet Li Shuang only stared blankly at Sima Yang until his figure disappeared among his entourage.
At this moment, she had no other thoughts—fortunately, Sima Yang hadn’t noticed anything amiss, attributing her behavior to drunken sluggishness… Li Shuang rubbed her temples, thinking of the scene she’d witnessed earlier, of Jin An meeting with the Western Rong envoy across the lake.
Though the night’s darkness made it hard to see, Li Shuang could never mistake Jin An’s figure, and the hunched old man with the walking stick matched the Western Rong envoy perfectly.
The old man had stood respectfully before Jin An, adopting a reverent posture, suggesting Jin An must be Western Rong royalty. With the old king gone and a new king ascending, for the old man to risk meeting in the imperial villa, Jin An must be a noble son of the royal family, his identity…
And Jin An’s willingness to meet this old man indicated he must have remembered his identity.
Thinking this through explained his silence along the journey and those contemplative looks he often gave her.
He had remembered who he was, his body had merged with the Gu, he no longer changed between day and night, his memories had returned, and he no longer clung to her as before. Jin An… had probably returned to normal, hadn’t he? Had he conquered the Jade Silkworm Gu?
Li Shuang’s thoughts were chaotic as she returned absently to the General’s Manor. She sat in her room for a long time, debating whether to seek Jin An in his courtyard. Just then, she heard movement on the roof, and as she turned her head, she saw Jin An had somehow already entered the room.
She glanced at the empty, quiet courtyard and the guards standing straight outside, then closed the window as usual. Turning to face Jin An, looking into his eyes, she suddenly felt a strange unfamiliarity there.
“You’ve remembered who you are?”
“Yes.” Jin An didn’t evade the question. “Ao Deng, the new king’s only son.”
The new Western Rong king’s only son—that meant he would be Crown Prince upon returning, the future King of Western Rong. Indeed, a most noble identity.
Li Shuang fell silent for a moment: “With such status, why was there no search when you disappeared?”
“The old king was suspicious by nature, so my father dared not deploy troops to search for me. Moreover, that Five Spirits Sect witch acted in secrecy, imprisoning me at the border between Great Jin and Western Rong. You know that area has always been tense, making investigation impossible.”
Li Shuang nodded. She knew—that the dungeon’s location in the small forest had long been untrodden, lying outside Deer City. Technically not Great Jin territory, it was still under Great Jin’s control, with Long Feng Camp maintaining constant surveillance, never allowing Western Rong cavalry to cross that area.
Yet Long Feng Camp only watched; without incident they wouldn’t investigate the area, making it an ideal hiding place.
“You came to find me today…”
“I’m returning to Western Rong.”
Jin An rarely interrupted Li Shuang before—when she spoke to him, it was like heaven’s candy, and he would stare at her fixedly, his eyes holding only her image, shining brightly.
But now he interrupted her with words carrying the distinct chill of farewell.
He spoke without hesitation, merely coming to inform Li Shuang.
Li Shuang remained silent for a long time: “That’s good.” Her response was equally businesslike as if all emotions had been covered up.
In truth, this was the best ending Li Shuang could have imagined—he remembered who he was, knowing his homeland, having a place to belong in the future, and having life goals beyond just her.
He was an independent, complete person.
Beyond “That’s good,” Li Shuang truly didn’t know what else to say.
“I plan to leave in two days. The envoy will help me leave Great Jin.”
“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.”
The conversation remained polite and calm. Li Shuang avoided Jin An’s gaze, not looking into his eyes, somehow afraid to see the courtesy and distance there.
The Jin An without memories had eyes only for her and belonged to her, but now, this person was no longer Jin An.
She stood for a while, and in the increasingly awkward atmosphere, she finally took a deep breath and moved to open the door: “I’ll send the guards away. Find time to return first. While in the General’s Manor, no one can touch you.”
Before she could open the door, Jin An’s hand caught her arm.
The familiar warmth, the familiar presence, but his words could no longer feel familiar.
“I came today to thank you,” Jin An said. “Thank you, General, for your recent care.”
Li Shuang’s lips trembled slightly, and then heard the window creak. She whirled around, but the room was already empty.
She rushed to the window, looking out, but saw only guards carefully peering into the courtyard, asking questioningly: “General? Do you need anything?”
“No,” Li Shuang said. “It was stuffy, just opening the window for air.”
She sat down in the room, looking at her reflection in the mirror, then rubbed her chest, taking several deep breaths, thinking how unreasonable it was—without illness or injury, she truly felt chest pain.
As if something had been pulled away, somewhat painful and somewhat suppressing, a discomfort impossible to describe.
But it was fine, this outcome was fine, everything returning to its original track.
Li Shuang sat before the mirror all night, thinking this way, and before dawn the next day, a sudden commotion arose outside the General’s Manor. This was extremely rare.
Soon after, the head steward hurriedly sought out Li Shuang.
“People from the palace have come with an imperial edict, demanding the northern guest immediately enter the palace for an audience. The Imperial Dragon Guards have come with swords drawn. The Grand General is receiving them in the front hall now… Ah! Young Miss!”
Before he could finish speaking, Li Shuang had already sprinted toward the north. As she approached the northern courtyard, she saw Dragon Guards approaching from another path.
Heart racing, Li Shuang used qinggong, landing in Jin An’s courtyard in a few moves. Looking around, she didn’t see Jin An in the yard. Just as she pushed open the door to his room, a voice came from behind: “What’s wrong?”
Li Shuang turned to see Jin An holding a sword, sweat still fresh on his brow, as if he had been practicing swordplay for some time: “I was practicing when I heard movement approaching.”
His senses were sharper than anyone’s.
“No time to explain. Leave this place first. If you disappear, the capital’s gates will surely be locked immediately. Don’t rush to leave the city—behind the White Temple in the southern city is an abandoned courtyard with an underground chamber. It has everything you need. Hide there and find a way back to Western Rong after things calm down.”
Li Shuang spoke quickly, but during her words, the Dragon Guards’ heavy footsteps could already be heard outside. Jin An remained calm, his eyes narrowing, their light sharp: “Qin Lan?”
He guessed the informant in one sentence.
Li Shuang didn’t respond, pushing Jin An: “Trust no one. Go.”
Jin An looked at Li Shuang, and this scene suddenly reminded him of that night in the Northern Frontier, when Wu Yin’s arrival forced him to separate from Li Shuang. Before losing consciousness then, she had looked at him just like this, with unresolvable worry, brows tightly knitted, making him want to embrace her regardless of consequences and kiss the wrinkles between her brows.
But people were almost here, no time to delay…
With a bang, the Dragon Guards pushed open the door. Li Shuang picked up the sword from the ground and turned toward the courtyard gate, her star-like eyes as cold as the light on a blade.
All the Dragon Guards were startled.
Li Shuang held the sword at her side: “Dragon Guards?” Her voice carried surprise. “Why have His Majesty’s guards burst into my General’s Manor so early?”
“General.” The leader was the Dragon Guard Commander, Tian Shoudu, Sima Yang’s confidant who had practically grown up with the emperor. He had once been friendly with Li Shuang, but after she went north to the frontier, such friendships had gradually faded. Now meeting again, his manner was purely formal: “We have come with an imperial edict to invite the noble guest here to speak with His Majesty. We apologize for disturbing the General.”
“Oh? This place houses only a common man who once helped me. How did he become His Majesty’s noble guest?”
“This humble servant doesn’t know either. Please, General, grant us passage.”
Li Shuang nodded, smiling politely: “With such an imperial edict, I must comply. However, strangely, I haven’t seen the person in this courtyard since returning to the manor yesterday. I had hoped to discuss swordplay with him today. Since he hasn’t returned after a long wait, Commander, please wait here for me.”
She placed the sword on the courtyard’s stone table, gesturing inside, and letting the Dragon Guards proceed as they wished.
Tian Shoudu looked at Li Shuang for a moment before waving his guards into the courtyard. Their search naturally proved fruitless. Li Shuang stood casually to one side, arms folded. Tian Shoudu left two men in the courtyard and departed with the other guards.
After they left, Li Shuang looked back to see various uncles and cousins of the manor rushing over in alarm. Li Ting, woken by the commotion, came to find Li Shuang with his hair still disheveled: “Sister, who exactly was this person you saved? Why did even the Dragon Guards come to arrest him?”
Li Shuang shook her head: “I don’t know either.”
She truly hadn’t known at first.
But when Li Shuang asked herself if she would still have gone to South Long Mountain to save him had she known his identity from the beginning, frighteningly, her first thought was—”Yes.”
She would still have saved him regardless of everything, just like today.