The day was getting late. After eating the breakfast prepared by the post station and taking a brief rest, the group prepared to depart.

Huang Zixia mounted her horse Na Sha, following behind Li Shubai. Di E walked to Na Sha’s side and nuzzled its neck. The riders atop their horses unconsciously brushed shoulders as well.

Li Shubai noticed the faint blue shadows under her eyes and slightly furrowed his brows, reining in Di E to ask, “Did you not sleep well?”

“Mm.” She nodded silently.

He said, “If we ride quickly today, we should reach Chengdu Prefecture. Don’t think too much. Wait until we get there and assess the situation before making plans.”

She raised her head to look at Li Shubai, seeing him so close, looking down at her. The distance between them was close enough to share breath. She dared not meet his clear, bright eyes and could only lower her head: “Yes.”

He stopped looking at her and spurred his horse forward.

Huang Zixia quickly urged her horse to follow. One in front and one behind, they set off on the smooth official road.

From Hanzhou to Chengdu, the road was filled with an endless stream of merchants and travelers. Huang Zixia was riding with her head down when, at a place where the crowd had thinned, she suddenly heard Li Shubai say, “Actually, these past few days, my heart has been quite unsettled as well.”

Huang Zixia looked up at him and asked, “Is Your Highness concerned about that talisman?”

“Mm.” He rode forward, lost in thought. “On that talisman, there were six characters: widower, disabled, orphan, alone, abandoned, and ruined. On the day my imperial mother passed away, the character for ‘alone’ was marked. Three years ago when I was assassinated in Xuzhou and my arm was nearly crippled, the character for ‘disabled’ eventually faded as I recovered. And this time…”

Before departing, that talisman had shown flowing blood-red marks, circling the character for “ruined.”

Decay, withering, abandonment – that is ruin.

Li Shubai, Prince of Kui of the Great Tang, was enfeoffed as prince at age six, left the palace at thirteen, and after seven years in seclusion, succeeded in crushing the court’s greatest threat Pang Xun while simultaneously restraining various military governors, wielding overwhelming power and authority across the realm.

However, how long could a life that bloomed too early continue to flourish unchecked?

At twenty-three, his fate pattern was disturbed, and on the talisman that foretold his destiny, ominous characters were being marked one by one.

Huang Zixia felt this matter was extremely bizarre but could find no thread to follow, so she could only comfort him saying, “Everything in this world ultimately has a reason. I don’t know why this talisman can predict Your Highness’s affairs in advance, but fundamentally, I don’t believe in matters of ghosts and spirits, and I think… Your Highness surely doesn’t believe either.”

Li Shubai turned back to look at her, his eyes containing a bright, penetrating light: “Stop pretending to be naive, Huang Zixia. As for what the truth is, you and I both already know in our hearts, don’t we?”

Huang Zixia silently lowered her head, avoiding his gaze, saying, “I dare not make presumptions.”

“In any case, what comes will come. I’ll wait and see.” He curved his lips in a slight smile, then spurred his horse forward.

Though the Shu roads were difficult, this was a major thoroughfare, and after years of Tang Dynasty development, it had become a broad highway. Di E and Na Sha were rare fine steeds, and Jing Yu and the others’ horses couldn’t keep up, falling behind. Only the two of them rode one before the other, galloping together.

On one side of the road were endless green mountains, on the other side was winding river water, with scattered houses nestled between mountain and water along the roadside. It was now late summer, and countless hollyhocks bloomed brilliantly – red, white, yellow, and purple, in strings and clusters. As they galloped past, the flowers blurred, as if every household’s garden was decorated with large patches of brilliant brocade.

In each home’s small courtyard, branches hung heavy with fruit. Plums, pears, and pomelos – some ripe, some not. But all along the way, the Sichuan pepper in the mountain gardens had already matured, like countless clusters of bright red coral beads dotting the green leaves, the wind carrying their faintly spicy fragrance.

Di E and Na Sha also slowed their pace. On this road of bright colors and warm fragrances, the two horses walked side by side, occasionally nuzzling each other’s necks, causing Li Shubai and Huang Zixia to repeatedly draw close, then apart again.

Worried that Jing Yu and the others had fallen too far behind, Li Shubai reined in his horse, standing at the cliff’s edge. In the distance, long winds crossed over, billowing white clouds swept across thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, and the sunlight at the horizon shifted between shade and light, flowing changeably across the earth ahead.

He gazed at the distant sky for a long while, then let out a long breath and turned to look at Huang Zixia.

Her face was slightly pale, her breathing somewhat rapid. Following behind him on this long ride, even Jing Yu and the others often couldn’t keep up, yet she had managed to persist throughout. Across these thousand miles of rivers and mountains, she was the first person who could consistently remain by his side.

For a moment, as he looked back at her, he suddenly smiled. The curve of his lips was like wind moving across water, rippling slightly, rising then quickly settling.

Huang Zixia was stunned for a moment, seeing him smiling at her, that instant in his eyes seemed to contain thousands of brilliant colors. Perhaps it was from galloping too quickly, but her cheeks unconsciously began to burn.

However, he shifted his gaze away, casually opening the box on Di E’s side and taking out a small bag of something, tossing it to her.

With one hand controlling her horse and the other catching it, she found it was a small bag of rock sugar wrapped in white cotton paper.

Unable to guess his intention, she could only look up at him in surprise.

But he merely sat on his horse in the wind. In the rustling breeze, his voice wavered like his clothes and hair: “After you fainted last time, I asked the doctor. He said women often lack blood and energy, and eating sweet things when tired can provide some relief.”

She did indeed feel somewhat fatigued, afraid that if she continued following him, she might faint like last time. So she silently took a piece of pale yellow rock sugar and ate it, then offered the paper package back to him.

Though he didn’t particularly like sweets, he took a small piece and put it in his mouth.

The endless green mountains and blue waters stretched to where their gaze could not reach. Late summer wildflowers bloomed lush and bright, near and far around them.

They gazed at the same scenery, and experienced the same sweetness on their tongues, in this moment of the same wind sounds, silent and wordless.

Huang Zixia lowered her head, holding the package of sugar, hesitating for a long while before finally putting it in her bosom. Then thinking that in the hot weather, the sugar might melt in her bosom, she took it out again and placed it in the small box on Na Sha’s side.

In the late summer weather, the thin sugar pieces had indeed begun to slightly dissolve, the white cotton paper dampened with a small yellowish spot—just like in her heart, melting into a sweet yet bewildering trace.

Di E and Na Sha, treading on wildflowers, slowly drew close to each other.

The murmuring river never stopped, rushing over dangerous shoals, ultimately flowing east to the sea.

But Di E and Na Sha merely brushed past each other, and they on horseback merely passed shoulder to shoulder, the only things touching being the corners of their clothes and strands of their hair.

They slowed their horses, slowly proceeding along the mountain path.

Near noon, Jing Yu and the others finally caught up. They had traveled over sixty li, and with the Tang Dynasty establishing a post station every thirty li, it was perfect timing for the horses to rest and relay. They had passed one post station, and while Di E and Na Sha were still fine, the other horses were breathing heavily and covered in sweat, needing to rest.

The post station official anxiously welcomed them in, setting out tea and pastries. After Li Shubai and Huang Zixia sat in the hall drinking a cup of tea, they suddenly heard bells ringing outside, clear and melodious, followed by a woman’s figure moving along the outside window lattice.

Seeing that person’s figure, Huang Zixia immediately stood up, not daring to sit together with Li Shubai anymore.

The woman wore a gosling-yellow gauze dress, walking along the corridor to the doorway with a smile, gazing at Li Shubai with that smile.

In the forest of bamboo shadows filling the courtyard, her dress swayed lightly, like a blooming daylily, brilliantly beautiful.

Huang Zixia bowed to her: “Greetings, Princess.”

This woman who suddenly appeared at the post station was Princess Qile.

Li Shubai stood up, slightly surprised: “Qile?”

“Hearing that the Prince of Kui was heading south to Shu Prefecture, I came here first to wait.” She entered the room, curtseying to Li Shubai, raising her almond-shaped eyes brimming with waves to look at him. Her expression held a “surprise!” kind of mischievous meaning, but her words apologized: “Please don’t mind, Qile just… has long been ill from birth, so I greatly look forward to seeing the beauty of the thousand-mile rivers and mountains. I can’t trust others from the capital, only the Prince of Kui… surely won’t despise me.”

Huang Zixia stole a glance at Li Shubai, seeing his expression was gentle as he gestured for Princess Qile to sit. She quickly tried to excuse herself, but as soon as she lifted her foot, Li Shubai’s gaze had already turned to her, so she had to kneel again beside them, pouring tea for Princess Qile.

Princess Qile held the teacup, lowering her head to smell the tea fragrance, smiling softly at Li Shubai.

Princess Qile’s attachment to Li Shubai was well-known throughout the capital. As a nobleman’s daughter, if the Prince of Yi had become emperor, she would now be a princess. With her noble status, waiting for Li Shubai at such a small post station and smilingly asking him to take her along, Li Shubai found it difficult to refuse outright and could only helplessly say: “Princess, you’re being too rash.”

“I’ve always been rash and stubborn, you know that!” She pouted, but hearing his helplessness and knowing he probably wouldn’t flatly refuse her, her lips couldn’t help but reveal a smile of joy, “Anyway, I’m all alone now. In this vast world, if I want to travel everywhere with you, who can stop me?”

Huang Zixia understood her meaning was to keep following Li Shubai from now on, and couldn’t help but laugh bitterly inside, with a bit of schadenfreude at watching the show, glancing at Li Shubai.

The Prince of Yi was originally from a distant branch that came to the capital, with thin blood ties to the current emperor. After the Prince of Yi passed away, only Princess Qile remained of that bloodline. The imperial family had designated a child to inherit and continue this line, but that child died young a few years later. Everyone said this branch was destined to decline, beyond salvation, so the imperial family deliberately neglected it, leaving only Princess Qile to guard the prince’s mansion. The mansion’s tutors and officials could hardly restrain such a willful girl who had been spoiled since childhood, so naturally, she did as she pleased, coming and going as she wished.

And Li Shubai, mindful that her days were numbered, had always treated her with particular kindness. Huang Zixia still remembered him telling her that when he was at his lowest, only she had held his hand.

Huang Zixia looked at Li Shubai frowning helplessly, thinking, now let’s see how you handle Princess Qile?

She heard Li Shubai say to Princess Qile: “Wan’er, while I should help fulfill your elegant interest, I have important matters to attend to in Shu this time, and fear I won’t have time to take you sightseeing to enjoy the scenery.”

Princess Qile pouted, her beautiful almond eyes full of grievance: “I know Your Highness is busy, but I only want Your Highness to take me into the city because I’m unfamiliar with Chengdu Prefecture, surely that’s not too difficult?”

Li Shubai frowned: “I have official duties and it’s not convenient to bring others along. Moreover, it’s not safe around me right now, if something were to happen to you, how could I explain to your household?”

“I came with dozens of guards too, I can take care of myself. Besides, maybe when you’re busy, my people and I could even help!”

Li Shubai could only say: “I’m not particularly familiar with Shu territory either, and truly cannot show you around. How about this – I’ll go with you to Chengdu Prefecture, and then the officials there will surely be happy to arrange an itinerary for you.”

Princess Qile was about to say something more, but Li Shubai had already glanced at Huang Zixia. Understanding his meaning, Huang Zixia had no choice but to steel herself and speak up: “Your Highness, you still have over a hundred unopened official documents accumulated these past days, and with Prefecture Lord Zhou newly arrived in Shu territory, it’s unknown whether he has met with Shu Military Governor Fan Yingxi yet, and Shu Prefecture’s affairs big and small are piled mountain-high, afraid Your Highness will need to attend to them…”

Before she finished speaking, Princess Qile had already glared at her glumly, saying resentfully: “Even the Prince of Kui’s little eunuch now dares to interrupt when I’m speaking with His Highness?”

Huang Zixia quickly lowered her head to beg forgiveness, then raised her head to look pitifully at Li Shubai, thinking in her heart, I’m not good at playing the bad guy!

Li Shubai gave her a “just bear with it” expression.