◎Thus with each dream meeting, there is one less meeting, and fate diminishes by one portion◎

The Yin hour, also called Pingdan or dawn, is the juncture between night and day that brings the first glimmer of light from the east.

An imperial physician administered acupuncture to the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort. After confirming she was safe, he began flattering the Grand Imperial Grandson: “The year’s plan begins in spring, and the day’s plan begins in the Yin hour. This subject has heard that Your Highness’s childhood name is Tiger. The tiger is most mighty and fierce during the Yin hour, which is why the twelve zodiac animals assigned the Yin hour to the tiger.”

“The so-called ‘adding wings to a tiger’ is nothing more than this. That the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort awakened at this hour is surely due to Your Highness’s sincere devotion moving heaven and earth.”

However, the Grand Imperial Grandson had not forgotten that none of these people dared speak the word “poisoning.” He laughed coldly. “Is that so? If it’s due to my efforts, then what use are all of you?”

The imperial physician had delivered his flattery wrongly. Breaking out in cold sweat, he fell to his knees with a thud, begging for mercy.

The Director of the Imperial Medical Bureau was somewhat better at speaking. He said: “The Yin hour is called ‘Feathers Moving in the Palace.’ Wind comes from the east, and its sound nourishes the liver and kidneys, which is best for the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort’s body, so she awakened.”

He also knew that this time it would be difficult to escape punishment. With a sigh, he knelt on the ground pleading: “A thousand mistakes, ten thousand mistakes—they are all this subject’s mistakes. Please, Your Highness, raise your noble hand and spare the others.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson merely smiled. “These words—you should say them to His Majesty.”

When an imperial physician wouldn’t speak truthfully even to the imperial family, he had become useless. How could the Emperor, with his suspicious nature, feel comfortable using these people?

After this incident, the Imperial Medical Bureau would certainly need to replace this entire group.

The Director understood this principle. Prostrating himself, he pleaded miserably: “The words ‘poisoning’—Miss Su may say them, but this subject cannot. When we had not diagnosed poisoning through pulse examination at the time, how could we subjects speak carelessly? This would cause great chaos!”

He continued: “This subject indeed had selfish motives, but the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort’s pulse was strange—it truly seemed like it was caused by wind-cold. Though she never awakened and her life was in danger, yet there was no sign of death…”

It truly was strange.

The Grand Imperial Grandson’s gaze darkened. “No sign of death?”

Matters having reached this point, what did the Director have left that he couldn’t say? He shook his head. “Indeed, there was no sign of death.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson: “Why didn’t you say so at the time?”

The Director kowtowed. “Your Highness, this subject… dared not speak. If she awakened, all would be well. But if in the end she hadn’t awakened, wouldn’t it have been false hope?”

Better to muddle through in confusion—perhaps in the end, things could still be smoothed over.

The Grand Imperial Grandson laughed in anger. “Good! What an excellent Imperial Medical Bureau! What excellent ‘dared not speak’!”

But after his laughter, a wave of desolation arose within him.

A dynasty doesn’t begin rotting from one place alone. If the core of a fruit has worms, how can the other parts remain sound?

When Lan Shanjun arrived, he dismissed everyone else, keeping only her to speak.

Once the door closed, he no longer had his earlier imposing manner. He didn’t even sit in a chair, but instead sat on the floor, leaning dejectedly against the wall. “Shanjun, thank you.”

Lan Shanjun stood straight. “As I should. Though my status is humble, I also regard him as my own kin. Those he wishes to protect, I am also willing to protect.”

With that single word “he” between the two of them, no more needed to be said—both understood whom she meant.

The Grand Imperial Grandson’s eyes reddened. In a low voice he said: “Sit. You and I are siblings—no need for formality.”

Lan Shanjun didn’t refuse. She sat on the floor and asked with concern, “What did the imperial physicians say?”

The Grand Imperial Grandson recounted what had just occurred. He said through gritted teeth: “If not for the storax incense being present, they would certainly have brushed this off as an acute wind-cold illness!”

But Lan Shanjun contemplated for a moment, then asked: “When His Majesty forced Your Highness to go to Changle Palace, if Yu Qingwu and I had not been present, whom would Your Highness have intended to leave guarding the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort?”

The Grand Imperial Grandson was startled, then said without thinking: “Yuanniang and my wet nurse, Nanny Sun.”

At that time, when Lan Shanjun wasn’t present, it had been Nanny Sun leading the two children.

Lan Shanjun knew of Nanny Sun. Having been in the Eastern Palace for some time, she also knew the palace maids and eunuchs here. Nanny Sun was the head matron of the Eastern Palace—whether storehouse or other matters, she managed everything.

Lan Shanjun drew in a sharp breath.

She dared not suspect, yet she couldn’t help but suspect. In a soft voice she said: “Your Highness, if someone had set up a scheme—first using the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort’s unconsciousness as a pretext, guessing His Majesty’s thoughts, requesting that you go to Changle Palace to pressure the Empress, and when you returned, the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort had already died… would you suspect Nanny Sun?”

He would certainly suspect her.

The Grand Imperial Grandson’s heart grew increasingly desolate. “If Nanny Sun is His Majesty’s and Prince Qi’s person…”

Lan Shanjun fell silent.

She said: “You’ve investigated so many people—why not investigate her thoroughly as well?”

The Grand Imperial Grandson remained silent for a long while, then nodded. “Truly surrounded on all sides by enemies.”

Lan Shanjun then thought of the previous life.

At that time, if the situation had also been like today’s—the Grand Imperial Grandson kneeling to beg the Empress to come to the Eastern Palace, but when the Empress arrived, the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort had already died from illness.

He should not have seen the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort one last time.

Her gaze grew increasingly melancholy. The more she deduced the events of that year, the more she discovered that their entire group had actually been calculated precisely by Prince Qi.

With the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort dying in that manner, not seeing her one last time, once the Grand Imperial Grandson came to his senses, he would certainly investigate Nanny Sun.

Would Nanny Sun be the Emperor’s person?

If her speculation was correct, then under those circumstances, the Grand Imperial Grandson returning barefoot and in single garments would certainly not have been rational.

She said softly: “Prince Qi’s scheming is truly formidable.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson deeply felt this was so. He solemnly stood up and performed a formal bow to Lan Shanjun. “I—even performing the full ceremony of three kowtows and nine bows would not be excessive.”

Lan Shanjun stood up and returned the courtesy, her gaze becoming gentle. “No need to thank me.”

Because the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort lived, her own life felt secure.

The melancholy that had pressed upon her heart these past two years had dissipated somewhat more.

The two sat facing each other. No longer speaking of the Grand Imperial Grandson’s Consort, they tacitly turned to discussing Duan Boyan.

The Grand Imperial Grandson asked, “When did you learn of… his identity?”

Lan Shanjun: “I saw his calligraphy at Yu Qingwu’s place.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson: “I see.”

He consoled her: “You needn’t fear. I will protect you.”

But Lan Shanjun didn’t speak immediately. When she finally opened her mouth, she spoke only five words.

She said, “I want to kill Prince Qi.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson was slightly startled. “What did you say?”

Lan Shanjun enunciated each word seriously: “I want to kill Prince Qi.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson didn’t know why, but his hair stood on end. A surge of heat from an unknown source flooded into his heart, causing all his defenses to drop in this moment. He almost pursued the question urgently: “Is it to avenge your great-uncle?”

Lan Shanjun nodded. “Yes.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson couldn’t speak.

He even felt ashamed.

He murmured: “Your great-uncle taught you well…”

But he himself had already entered into the treacherous winds and clouds, unable to extricate himself.

The Mao hour—sunrise.

Lan Shanjun glanced at the sky and stood to take her leave. But before departing, she said softly: “Earlier outside, Yu Qingwu told me that the Yin hour belongs to the tiger.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson raised his head to look at her.

“When I was young, I never understood why I had this name. Now, I finally understand.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson’s eyes slowly widened.

Between Lan Shanjun’s brows and eyes, everything revealed her emotion: “I was thinking at that time—Your Highness’s childhood name should have been that ray of dawn light for him back then.”

She smiled, though her heart felt somewhat bitter. The words that emerged carried a hint of choking emotion: “And I… am that ray of dawn light for him in the time that followed.”

The Grand Imperial Grandson lowered his head in shame.

Lan Shanjun said with determination: “He also taught Your Highness a saying, didn’t he?”

“When the six-line divination begins, know yet do not avoid.”

She bowed deeply. “You and I both come from the same source. Repeated and reversed divination—fate is already determined. If I don’t struggle, I will certainly die.”

She turned to leave. The Grand Imperial Grandson sat dazed. Only after a long while did he come to his senses, murmuring: “Repeated and reversed divination, fate is already determined… When the six-line divination begins, know yet do not avoid.”

These were indeed words his great-uncle had spoken.

He supported himself against the wall and stood, looking toward the heavy snow outside the window.

“Great-uncle, giving Shanjun her name was truly right. A’Hu… is unworthy.”

…

The Chen hour—Lan Shanjun and Yu Qingwu left the palace.

Having not slept all night, she was utterly exhausted. She had thought the excitement in her heart would prevent sleep, but when she awakened, she was already at home.

The sun outside shone in, the snow had stopped, and she heard Nanny Qian leading Fu Chun, Xuan Xia, Yin Qiu, and Ning Dong sweeping snow outside.

Whether it was a habit carried over from her previous life or not, in this life her ears were always her most sensitive feature.

Wind rustled past, tree leaves fell with a whisper.

And also…

She tilted her head slightly, looking toward Yu Qingwu at the edge of her bed.

His breathing was uneven, as though trapped in a nightmare. Half his body leaned below the bed frame, with only his head resting beside hers.

It appeared he had been watching over her the entire time.

Lan Shanjun wanted to rise, but discovered her hand was held in his.

She froze. A strange feeling arose in her heart, yet there was also an indescribable sensation. She gently tried to free her hand, but who knew such a small movement would also wake him.

He raised his head in alarm, only to see her quietly watching him, watching his hand.

Yu Qingwu’s eyes slowly widened, then he said in a low voice: “You—you were holding me and wouldn’t let me leave—”

Lan Shanjun’s suspicious heart turned to embarrassment. “Is that so? I truly apologize.”

Yu Qingwu lowered his head. “It’s nothing. In your dream, you kept calling for Master… Did you dream of General Duan?”

Lan Shanjun made a sound of acknowledgment. “He doesn’t often appear in my dreams. Today I did dream of him.”

She dreamed the old monk said her pork buns were truly delicious.

But the small version of herself, while steaming buns in the kitchen, shouted out in frustration: “Then why won’t you gain weight! You’ve eaten so many buns, yet you haven’t gained a single bit of flesh!”

The doctor had said that if he continued losing weight, he couldn’t be saved.

Lan Shanjun said softly: “This is the only time this year I’ve dreamed of him.”

Yu Qingwu then said: “I once heard someone say that we dream of the deceased because our fate with them is not yet exhausted. Because there is fate but we cannot see each other, we dream of them instead.”

“Thus with each dream meeting, there is one less meeting, and fate diminishes by one portion. That you don’t dream of General Duan is precisely because your fate with him is not exhausted—he is unwilling to end this connection.”

This was the first time Lan Shanjun had heard such an explanation. She couldn’t help but ask, “Really?”

Yu Qingwu: “Really.”

Lan Shanjun smiled. “Then I’m relieved.”

She said softly: “Then let’s… dream less often.”

Nanny Qian heard the sounds from inside and came to knock on the door. “Time to eat!”

She must have been starving all night!

She had made braised fish chunks, bean pepper scrambled eggs, stuffed pork tenderloin, stir-fried lamb with scallions, smoked pig’s ear… everything one could want.

As Nanny Qian served food to Lan Shanjun, she said: “They say Sichuan cuisine is easy to make—just focus on the three fragrances, three peppers, and three seasonings, seven flavors, eight tastes, and nine varied dishes. But making it is difficult—I can’t learn the authentic flavor.”

Lan Shanjun lowered her head to drink fish soup, smiling: “As long as it’s spicy, I love eating it.”

Nanny Qian: “I know, I’ll make spicy stir-fried chicken for you tomorrow!”

She looked at Yu Qingwu, who hadn’t spoken at all. “Young Master Yu, I know—you love sweet things.”

Yu Qingwu: “…Huh?”

Nanny Qian: “You ate so many candied hawthorns last time!”