Autumn grew cooler, even the wind carried a refreshingly cold essence. The lotus flowers in Taiqing Pool had already withered miserably, and the phoenix tree leaves covered the lake embankment. The great hall was as still as a clear, waveless autumn lake. Sun Di’s voice, like the lingering fragrance from a gilded bronze tripod, floated quietly through the hall, making the emptiness all the more profound.

“Princess Yunkang, the First Lady of Huayang, the Consorts of Prince Runan, Prince Duanqing, and Prince Jing’an have all submitted memorials expressing their willingness to enter the palace to raise Your Majesty. Prince Runan, Prince Duanqing, Prince Jing’an, General Situ, Imperial Son-in-law An, and Commandery Prince Yun have also submitted statements of support. The court and country are currently divided into two factions. The military officials mostly support Prince Jing’an, while the civil officials advocate for the three royal consorts to jointly raise Your Majesty, with the three princes jointly serving as regents.”

A gentle breeze blew, causing the moonlight reflecting on the flowers and trees outside the window to shatter. Chu Qiao sat on a soft mat, wearing an inner chamber brocade robe of cotton white. One hand rested on the windowsill, supporting her chin as she gazed quietly at the phoenix trees under the moonlight outside. Her wide sleeves hung slightly low, revealing a section of snow-white forearm. Her face was thin, her eyes calm, not indicating her thoughts.

“General Xie Xu of the Ministry of War has brought seventy thousand Southern soldiers to Xizhao Mountain and will reach the capital in a few days. Xie Xu was once Prince Jing’an’s house servant, so we must be cautious about his approach with troops. I have ordered General Xu Su to set up defenses at Hanshui. If Xie Xu comes under the banner of paying respects to the new emperor, he may only cross the river alone and not bring any soldiers.”

“Xie Xu?” Chu Qiao leaned by the window without turning her head and said quietly, “When Prince Luo rebelled, we didn’t see him being so loyal to the emperor and patriotic. Now he’s become so domineering.”

Sun Di’s voice remained unchanged as he said solemnly, “Without proper legitimacy, words lack persuasion. No wonder many court officials harbor different intentions.”

Chu Qiao turned slightly to look at Sun Di, seeming to understand what he wanted to say, but ultimately didn’t respond or give him a definitive answer. She merely turned her head back silently to look at the rippling blue waves outside, remaining silent for a long time.

“Additionally, Liu Yuanzong, the son of Elder Liu, has privately approached me, expressing willingness to mobilize some of the Liu family’s former subordinates to assist you at an appropriate time. However, we still need the right opportunity and justification.”

At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the hall. Both turned to look and saw the Emperor wearing a small golden dragon robe, barefoot without even boots, his face streaked with tears as he ran into the great hall and threw himself into Chu Qiao’s arms, crying loudly. Two elderly palace maids followed behind, immediately kneeling upon seeing Chu Qiao and Sun Di.

The child’s body was small and soft, his two hands tightly holding Chu Qiao’s waist, crying and shouting, “Aunt! Mother came to find me, Mother came to find me!”

Chu Qiao compassionately pulled the little Emperor up, took out a handkerchief to wipe away his tears, and said softly, “Did Your Majesty have a dream again?”

The child’s little mouth trembled as he cried, “Mother’s head was covered in blood, and it all rubbed off on me.”

Chu Qiao comforted him, “Don’t be afraid, Your Majesty. It was just a dream, not real. The Empress Dowager loved you so much when she was alive, how could she frighten you?”

“Aunt—”

Imperial Consort Li clutched Chu Qiao tightly, refusing to let go.

Sun Di looked at the Emperor and said with regret, “Your Majesty is still so young. If he falls into the hands of those with ulterior motives, who knows how much suffering he might endure?”

Suddenly, a trace of annoyance arose in Chu Qiao’s heart. Without even looking at Sun Di, she coldly said, “It’s late. Sir should not remain in the palace any longer. Meixiang, see the guest out.”

Sun Di wasn’t offended. He politely bowed to Chu Qiao and unhurriedly turned to leave.

Meixiang glared at Sun Di’s back, her expression showing resentment. After he left, she said indignantly, “Miss, don’t listen to this man’s nonsense. At worst, when the Fourth Young Master arrives, we can take His Majesty away.”

Before Chu Qiao could speak, Emperor Li Xiuyi in her arms raised his head and asked, “Where is Aunt going?”

Chu Qiao lowered her head, looking at the child’s pitch-black eyes. Vaguely, through these eyes, she seemed to see the shadow of another person. Back then, amid flying catkins, the cold wind was as sharp as a knife. Despite nationwide opposition and questioning, he had led troops to rescue her from the chaos of battle. His armor was so cold against her cheek, yet like a windbreak mountain, towering like a magnificent palace, seeming as if it would never fall.

She gradually tightened her arms, holding the child in her embrace firmly.

The white candles burned brightly. The night in the deep palace was always so long.

The side gate beside Tai’an Gate slowly opened, and Sun Di emerged in light robes, walking elegantly.

Tie You crouched in a dark corner and approached him inconspicuously upon seeing him emerge. Sun Di looked at him with a faint smile, casually saying, “Commander Tie, are you looking to share a drink with me?”

“Did you kill Empress Dowager Yuan?”

Tie You asked in a deep voice, his eyes as calm as water.

Sun Di’s face remained undisturbed, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth as he replied openly, “What does Commander Tie mean? Empress Dowager Yuan died by hitting the wall. Everyone in the palace saw it, and you witnessed it yourself. What does that have to do with me?”

Tie You frowned and said in an unchanged tone, “Qingyuan said that the night before the palace coup, you sent a secret letter from prison specifically addressed to Empress Dowager Yuan. After reading your letter, the Empress Dowager went to His Majesty’s sleeping quarters and didn’t leave until the night of the coup. The maid serving the Empress Dowager said she cried all night and didn’t eat anything. What did you tell her?”

“What could I say? I merely advised the Empress Dowager to be cautious of the Zhan siblings.”

Tie You suddenly stepped forward, his eyes fixed intently on Sun Di, and said gravely, “Then why did you secretly execute the young eunuchs who delivered the letter for you, and last night search Yixin Hall thoroughly under the pretext of clearing the palace?”

Sun Di’s expression also grew cold. He turned around sternly and said coldly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With that, he moved to leave.

“Sun Di!” Tie You suddenly shouted, startling the distant guards who all looked in their direction. His chest heaved as he lowered his voice and slowly said, “If you want others not to know, then don’t do it yourself. There are hundreds of eyes watching you in the palace. Do you think you can do things flawlessly?”

The moonlight was cold, casting silver-white light on Sun Di’s back. His blue robe fluttered elegantly, simple and unadorned, yet an inexplicable brilliance emanated from this young nobleman.

He slowly turned around, his eyes gazing quietly at Tie You, and said deliberately, “Tie You, you haven’t forgotten your origins, have you?”

Tie You was stunned, a flash of displeasure crossing his face as he said coldly, “I, Tie You, came from humble origins, naturally cannot compare with Sir Sun.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Sun Di said softly. Under the cold moonlight, his face was handsome and mischievous. The man’s back was straight, his robes fluttering, as he said quietly, “I meant to ask, you haven’t forgotten His Majesty’s kindness to us, have you?”

Tie You was momentarily stunned, but quickly said coldly, “Killing the young Emperor’s only mother, stirring up discontent throughout the court and country—is this how you repay His Majesty’s kindness?”

“What else could be done? Let His Majesty ascend the throne with Empress Dowager Yuan as regent. Hmph, if that were the case, within three years, the Great Tang dynasty would belong to Prince Jing’an Zhou Yun and become surnamed Zhou.”

A cold smile appeared at the corners of Sun Di’s mouth, his young eyes as cunning as a fox. The night wind blew, making his clothes flutter, as if he were not of this world.

“Indeed, His Majesty had anticipated such a situation before his death and made detailed instructions and arrangements. Yet I deliberately chose not to follow them. I deliberately let the Great Tang fall into chaos, deliberately let the traitor Zhan Ziyu die by General Xiuli’s hand so that she could establish this merit. Even if Empress Dowager Yuan had not taken her own life that day, I would have killed her afterward. She was wise enough to know her limitations and made her choice early, saving me much trouble. I stirred the waters of the court myself. Only by forcing the situation to this point could I make General Chu serve me and not leave the Great Tang with Zhuge Yue.”

Tie You listened with wide eyes. The iron-red city walls looked heavy and oppressive. Night birds flew over the high Jinwu Palace, making harsh cries. Tie You frowned deeply, his mouth slightly open. After a long while, he finally said in disbelief, “You’re mad!”

“No, it’s not me who is mad.”

Sun Di raised his head, his clothes fluttering in the wind, his upright figure like a spear pointing toward the distant northern night sky, his gaze sharp as he said, “Can you hear it? The war drums in the north have already sounded. There are hundreds of thousands of corpses beneath Yanming Pass. The Great Xia is nearly falling apart. Yan Bei’s Yan Xun is ambitious, with unparalleled military strategy and unmatched ruthlessness. The reason Great Xia can still contend with him is only because Zhuge Yue’s Qinghai army threatens their flank. Once Zhuge Yue leaves, how can Zhao Che alone contend with Yan Bei? Moreover, with internal intrigue and continuous civil strife in Great Xia, various clans acting independently, and Zhao Yang not being one to willingly submit to others, once Great Xia is breached, our Bian Tang will lose its northern shield. By then, with Yan Bei threatening from the southern waterways in the west, Yan Bei’s main army attacking from the north, Nalan Hongye with close ties to Yan Xun in the east, and internally having Prince Jing’an and others with sinister intentions coveting the throne, how can our Great Tang survive?”

Tie You was completely stunned. Sun Di continued, “After the battle with Prince Luo, the Great Tang suffered heavy casualties. After His Majesty’s passing, internal forces wishing to replace the Li family remain ambitious. If we maintain this divided situation, we still have a fighting chance. Once the situation breaks and Great Xia falls to Yan Bei, that will be the time of Great Tang’s destruction. His Majesty’s kindness to us is as heavy as a mountain. Now that he is gone, how can we sit by and watch the Great Tang’s thousand-year foundation be destroyed?”

“But… you shouldn’t have killed Empress Dowager Yuan. She was, after all, His Majesty’s consort and the young Emperor’s mother!” Tie You’s face was red as he shouted.

“Just a useless woman,” Sun Di snorted disdainfully and said solemnly, “The current priority is to do everything possible to preserve Great Xia, so we can have time to breathe. Before Yan Bei destroys Great Xia, if we cannot annex Huaisong, we will certainly fall into multiple encirclements.”

As he spoke, his gaze suddenly showed a hint of fanaticism. He turned around, staring intently at Tie You, and said in a deep voice, “As long as General Chu remains in our Great Tang for one day, Zhuge Yue will not leave Xia to return to Qinghai. As long as he doesn’t leave, Yan Xun cannot ignore Cuiwei Pass and deploy all his forces to attack Yanming Pass. As long as Great Xia doesn’t fall, we will have time and opportunity to recover. Moreover, given General Chu’s relationship with both Yan Xun and Zhuge Yue, she will surely bring us political support from both sides. If internal forces stir, they must consider the attitudes of the other two countries. The young Emperor’s throne will remain stable, and even if Prince Jing’an and others want to interfere, they will have some reservations. Furthermore, the Xiuli Army is extremely powerful and loyal, no less than His Majesty’s Wolf Army, making it the best guarantee for the royal army. General Chu herself has exceptional military and political talent, is highly respected by the remnants of the Great Unity Guild, is capable of great responsibilities, has feelings of loyalty to His Majesty, has no relatives or family herself, and as a woman, has no ambition. In today’s world, can you find another person like her to serve as regent?”

Tie You was left speechless, only able to stare blankly at his colleague as if he didn’t recognize him.

Sun Di looked at him and said quietly, “If you want to watch the foundation of the Great Tang be destroyed and become a sinner for all ages, you can tell others what I just said. As colleagues, I won’t blame you for being heartless, only that my thoughts cannot be understood by others.”

“But you want General Chu to… aren’t you ruining her life?”

Sun Di shook his head with a smile, lightly patted Tie You’s shoulder, and said softly, “Although I believe General Chu has no ambition, I cannot help but be wary of others. If in the future Zhuge Yue marries her, would we let the wife of the King of Qinghai serve as regent for our Great Tang?”

The bright moon shone in the sky, spreading silver on the ground. The man turned and walked away with his head held high. His voice came drifting from afar, carrying a hint of indescribable desolation:

“The path of an emperor cannot afford womanly mercy. The depths of hell are so profound that no one dares to go, so let me go alone…”

The moonlight slanted, the autumn wind blew desolately, and the ground was covered with phoenix tree leaves, presenting a clear, lonely scene.

Mihe Residence was still as quiet as ever, but it had now become the liveliest place in the entire Jinwu Palace—at least it still had the movement of living people, while in other places, it was said, even night birds were unwilling to fly there.

Jinwu Palace suddenly became quiet, with no more singing and dancing, no more banquets, no more Eastern Hu dancers with honey-colored skin and blue eyes, and no more performers singing through the night.

The entire palace became lonely. Even the nightingales tactfully flew away from this silent palace. The palace suddenly became so quiet that one could hear one’s breathing while walking. Everyone was living in silence as if speaking a little louder would disturb the spirits of the recently deceased who had not yet dispersed. The white mourning cloths in the palace were like white arms of women; vaguely, the splendid prosperity and extravagant luxury that had been here not long ago flashed before one’s eyes, but in an instant, all had returned to dust and disappeared.

Everything here was missing that person, including the continuous phoenix trees and clear blue waters, and every flying eave bracket, every courtyard rockery.

The Emperor had just fallen asleep, lying on Chu Qiao’s lap. This child had witnessed Empress Dowager Yuan’s suicide with his own eyes and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for days. Even now, his little brow was still tightly furrowed, as if afraid even in his dreams. Prince Rong lay in a nearby cradle, sleeping soundly, the corners of his mouth turned up, looking exactly like his father.

Chu Qiao sat by the window without a hint of drowsiness. A white candle burned quietly, the wax tears hanging low, with a hint of vermilion under the firelight, like a woman’s rouge-stained tears rolling down.

In her hand, she held a thick stack of letters, their seals intact, all unopened.

She sat there for a full two hours.

Sun Di’s words involuntarily returned to her mind. She slowly turned her head to look at the two young children, her heart filled with a blank confusion.

There were already thirteen letters. He must be extremely anxious. If not for the current situation in Great Xia, he would likely have come personally already.

A faint smile crossed Chu Qiao’s lips as she imagined his angry appearance in her mind: his brows would be tightly furrowed, his eyes glaring at her, his lips pressed into a straight line, like a pouting child.

What would be written in these letters? Would he angrily scold her? Resent her? Or would he earnestly advise her?

Perhaps all of these. But she no longer wanted to look. This path was so cold; she couldn’t turn her head to look at the firelight on other paths. Once she looked, she feared she would no longer have the courage to continue forward.

The warmth in her chest cooled inch by inch, gradually congealing into a lump of ice. She vaguely recalled his words to her that night. The osmanthus trees swayed gently, the moonlight was beautiful. He turned to look at her, his gaze so clear and handsome, slowly asking, “The journey hasn’t reached its end yet, there might still be other changes. Are you afraid?”

The wind was so gentle then, the weather was warmly cozy. Her sleeves were puffed up by the wind, like butterflies about to fly. She had cast aside all her misgivings and quietly smiled, saying she wasn’t afraid. Then he smiled warmly, which was rare—without awkwardness, without sulking, without bickering, without argument. He smiled at her from the bottom of his heart, then slowly bent down in the moonlight and gently kissed her lips. His strong hand encircled her waist, his lips rubbing against her softness and fragrance, savoring the sweetness he had yearned for over many years.

However, this dream had not even begun before it was about to end.

For her, time had already become a thousand cuts of lingchi, dismembering and splitting. Fate was empty and vast, like a raging wildfire that had burned through a barren plain, unquenchable, never extinguished, never peaceful, never tranquil.

She slowly stretched out her hand, picked up the letters, and placed them above the candle flame. The flame rose high, burning the envelope slightly curled, gradually turning yellow. The tongues of fire spread, finally turning the letters to black ash.

“Miss!”

Meixiang entered carrying a late-night meal, startled by a light exclamation. She ran forward in a few steps, pushed the candlestick over, and asked in surprise, “What are you doing?”

Chu Qiao remained silent, just quietly looking at the half-burned letters. The remaining half was also black and curled, broken beyond repair, like a spiderweb covered in black dust with a thousand holes, having a hazy light under the lamp.

“Miss!” Meixiang exclaimed in surprise with rounded eyes, suddenly grabbing her thin shoulders and asking worriedly, “You’re not… not planning to listen to that Sun Di, are you?”

Chu Qiao just raised her head quietly, looking at Meixiang. Meixiang suddenly felt that Chu Qiao’s eyes seemed to have died, turning into a pile of ashes without any vitality. She nervously grabbed Chu Qiao’s hand, gripping it tightly, anxiously saying, “Miss, you can’t be foolish about this. This is a lifelong matter. Although the Tang Emperor treated you well, he is gone now. You are just a woman. Why should you bear the entire Tang dynasty on your shoulders?”

Chu Qiao still didn’t speak. Meixiang grew so anxious that her forehead sweated, tears welling in her eyes, her voice trembling as she said, “Miss, you cannot disappoint the Fourth Young Master again. You cannot agree. Wake up, you cannot be foolish!”

A sudden gust of wind blew, raising the ash of the letters from the ground. A few pieces of letter paper that had not completely burned flipped over. Under the lamplight, a few clear, flying characters could vaguely be seen: “Wait for me…”

Wait for you…

Chu Qiao’s eyes grew blurry, but no tears fell. The lamplight crawled up from the hem of her skirt, covering her inch by inch with faint light. Her heart ached with pain, but she was too choked to speak.

“Miss!”

Meixiang suddenly burst into tears, falling to her knees with a thud. The child on Chu Qiao’s lap was startled awake, sitting up with sleepy eyes. Seeing Meixiang crying, he was somewhat frightened, staring blankly at Chu Qiao. He opened his small hands and softly called, “Aunt.”

The child’s voice shattered the silence in her heart. Chu Qiao stood up, about to check on the child, but Meixiang grabbed the hem of her dress. The woman looked up at her with tearful eyes, her voice so mournful as she cried, “Miss, why should the living live for the dead?”

Chu Qiao’s steps froze immediately. She turned back in a daze, looking at Meixiang’s red eyes, her pale hands unconsciously beginning to tremble.

“Miss, you cannot disappoint the Fourth Young Master again, you cannot.” Meixiang’s tears flowed freely as she said sorrowfully, “Have you forgotten that song? The moon shines on your soul, urging you to return home soon. Miss, must you lose something before you know regret? If you repay your debt to the Tang Emperor today, who knows if you’ll have a chance to make it up to the Fourth Young Master in the future? The dead are gone, should the living forever live in pain and sorrow?”

Meixiang knocked her head on the ground and cried loudly, “Miss, go with the Fourth Young Master, I beg you, go!”

“Bad person!”

Li Xiuyi suddenly jumped down from Chu Qiao’s lap and pounced on Meixiang, knocking her over. The small child, like a little beast, tried hard to pull Meixiang’s hair, hitting her while shouting, “Bad person! You’re a bad person! You want to take my aunt away, you want my aunt to leave! Bad person!”

Chu Qiao quickly took Li Xiuyi in her arms, but the child still struggled, his eyes full of hatred as he looked at Meixiang, like a wolf cub who had lost its mother wolf.

“Bad person! Rui has already lost his Imperial Father and Imperial Mother, and now you want to take away my aunt too, bad person!”

The child’s voice was like a knife, sharply piercing Chu Qiao’s heart. At that moment, it felt as if blood had congealed in her throat, almost bursting forth.

Li Qingrong had also awakened. The child stared with pitch-black eyes, quietly looking at the people in the room. Suddenly seeing his little brother crying, he too opened his mouth wide and began to wail.

The wet nurse quickly ran in from outside, not daring to say much, just picking up Prince Rong and taking him to the outer chamber to nurse.

The candles in the great hall crackled, the shadow of the phoenix tree by the window swayed, and the night was so quiet that she could hear nothing except the children’s crying.

“What Fourth Young Master?”

Li Xiuyi’s small face suddenly turned cold as ice, with a rare murderous aura. He pushed Chu Qiao away, ran to the bedside, and grabbed her treasured sword. With a swoosh, he drew the sword almost as tall as himself, calling out fiercely, “I’ll kill him for trying to take my aunt away from me!”

“Yi’er!”

Chu Qiao snatched the sword away and scolded angrily, “What are you doing?”

The child’s little mouth trembled, rolling tears falling from his eyes as he cried loudly, “Aunt doesn’t want me anymore, I know, you’re going to leave, you don’t want me anymore!”

Chu Qiao knelt on the ground dejectedly, holding the child tightly in her arms, her heart aching as if being slowly sliced, too choked to speak.

“Aunt, don’t go.”

The child put his small hands around her back, sobbing, “Yi’er will grow up quickly, I will protect aunt like Father Emperor did, aunt, please don’t go.”

At this moment, a beautiful little girl like white jade suddenly ran in from outside, wearing a fluffy little jacket, standing foolishly at the doorway. Her little face was white and chubby, her eyes as black as grapes soaked in water.

Seeing her, Li Xiuyi ran from Chu Qiao’s arms, rushed over in a few steps to take the little girl’s hand, and said sobbing, “Xiao Xiao, quickly kowtow to aunt, kowtow to aunt and she won’t leave.”

The little girl was Li Ce’s daughter, only four years old this year. Because the palace had been unstable recently, Chu Qiao had brought all three children to live in Mihe Residence. But Xiao Xiao was used to sleeping with her wet nurse, so she slept in the outer chamber not far away.

Xiao Xiao was stunned, perhaps not understanding her brother’s words, and remained standing still.

Li Xiuyi became angry immediately, shouting, “I told you to kneel and kowtow! Didn’t you hear me?”

Xiao Xiao burst into tears with a wail, falling to her knees with a thud. Her two little hands pressed against the ground as she kept knocking her head, crying and murmuring incoherently, “Xiao Xiao won’t misbehave anymore, Xiao Xiao won’t dare, aunt, wuu—”

Chu Qiao grabbed Li Xiuyi, who was also about to kneel and kowtow and held both him and Xiao Xiao in her arms. The bitterness in her heart was like a vast blue sea, boundless and overflowing.

“Aunt won’t leave, aunt won’t go anywhere.”

She said each word deliberately. The two children buried themselves in her embrace, crying from fear. Their voices echoed in the empty Jinwu Palace, merging with the dripping water clock, conveying their grief into the deep autumn.

Meixiang looked at the three figures, her heart sinking heavily. She sat there, turning her head slightly, pressing her lips tightly together. A clear tear slid from her eyes and fell into her mouth, so bitter, so astringent.

“It’s all fate.”

She helplessly forced a smile, like aged bitter root.

The next day, when Sun Di came, Chu Qiao had already finished washing up. She wore a deep red gold-embroidered solemn attire with long golden lily lapels hanging down her chest, looking magnificent and splendid.

Sun Di glanced at Chu Qiao, seemingly a bit stunned. After a while, a smile suddenly bloomed at the corner of his lips as he said quietly, “It seems the lady has made up her mind.”

The woman sat in the main seat of the hall. The morning sunlight shone on her, with a radiance that made people unable to stare directly. Even in such magnificent clothes, the sharpness in her brow and eyes didn’t diminish at all but rather made her appear more dignified. She looked steadily at Sun Di, her voice cold as she slowly said, “I hope I haven’t disappointed Sir Sun.”

Sun Di’s spirit immediately tensed, but he still calmly bowed his head, “The lady’s words are too kind.”

Chu Qiao didn’t say more, coldly waving her hand, “I presume you already have everything planned. How to arrange it all, I leave entirely to you.”

“Yes, this subject will not fail the trust placed in me.”

In an instant, the form of address had changed. Chu Qiao turned her head away, feeling that even a cold smile was too much effort.

Sun Di hesitated for a moment, then ventured to say, “Three days from now would be an auspicious date.”

“Three days?” Chu Qiao raised her eyebrows slightly, “Isn’t that too rushed?”

“It’s fine. I will urge the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Works to speed up preparations.”

“What about the imperial edict and proclamation?”

Sun Di smiled slightly, quite self-satisfied as he said, “Has the lady forgotten? The late Emperor’s edict for your Princess title hasn’t been filled with an honorific yet. With just slight modifications, it can be completed. The timing is also without error, as it was personally written by the late Emperor, making the court officials more convinced. With the lady’s current prestige, presumably, no one would dare to object.”

“Hmph, you’ve thought of everything.”

Chu Qiao said indifferently. Sun Di suddenly felt a chill down his spine and said solemnly, “Then I shall go prepare.”

“Mm.”

Chu Qiao nodded faintly, her expression somewhat weary. Sun Di hurriedly turned to leave. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, an extremely faint voice suddenly came, with the woman saying softly, “This is the last time.”

Sun Di’s footsteps immediately faltered. He turned back but saw that Chu Qiao had already entered the inner hall.

Was it an auditory hallucination?

He frowned tightly.

The autumn day was high and distant, the sky clear and blue. Sun Di suddenly laughed freely, raising his face to look at the sky. Vaguely, he seemed to see that man who was both sovereign and friend smiling at him.

“What I’m doing, you must be happy about too. Even if you put on that virgin-like sacred and inviolable righteous appearance, you’re probably blooming with joy inside.”

Sun Di took a deep breath and quietly closed his eyes.

Even if you hate me, it doesn’t matter. As long as the Li family’s bloodline is preserved, everything is worth it.

On the fifth day of the tenth month, the Jinwu Palace issued the late Emperor’s posthumous edict, bestowing the title of Imperial Noble Consort on General Xiuli Chu Qiao, giving her control of the Phoenix Seal of the palace, and promising the realm that if she were to give birth to an imperial son in the future, she would be made Empress of the Great Tang.

Because the date on the signature was three months ago, when Li Ce was still alive, Chu Qiao became the only woman to be immediately elevated to Imperial Noble Consort upon her first appointment. And everyone in the world knew what kind of marriage this was—this Beautiful Imperial Consort would never be able to conceive Li Ce’s child in her lifetime, so she would forever remain just an Imperial Noble Consort.

The conferment ceremony was scheduled for three days later. The entire Tang capital was hung with black banners, and the Ministry of Rites had hurriedly created the first black phoenix robe in the Great Tang’s thousand-year history. Officials from all regions hastily prepared gifts, and the postal routes were filled with galloping horses heading toward the capital.

Everyone was waiting for this ghost marriage three days later. The eyes of various countries were all focused on it. The world was once again shocked by this woman, because everyone knew that this was not just an Imperial Consort, but the true master of the Great Tang for the next ten years. This former slave from the Great Xia had finally climbed to the peak of power through legendary experiences.

When Yan Xun learned of this news, he was hosting guests in the palace. Fengzhi quietly approached him, leaned to his ear, and whispered a few words. His expression suddenly changed, his wine cup tilted, and half a cup of grape wine spilled onto his black robe.

The rugged guest smiled slightly, inquiring not without curiosity, “What’s wrong, Great King?”

Yan Xun smiled in realization, shaking his head, “An old horse that I had raised for many years just died. I’ve startled the honorable envoy, I’m truly sorry.”

“So it was just a horse.” The guest laughed heartily, “Yan Bei is vast and rich in resources. In the future, when the Great King conquers Great Xia, the whole world will be in the Great King’s hands, and you can have anything you want. But since the Great King loves good horses, I will immediately send people back to bring one thousand top war horses for the Great King, wishing the Great King a smooth journey east and a triumphant victory!”

Loud laughter immediately rang out from Shuofang Palace, echoing far across the Yan Bei plateau.

The world was so vast, and fate was truly like an arrow shot forward—once released, there was no turning back.

That night, Yan Xun took his attendants to Nada Palace on Sunset Mountain, a palace that looked like floating clouds, beautiful. He sat in the cloud-deep palace like the Jade Pool for a long time without coming out. The sun gradually set, the sunset a brilliantly fiery red, like the flame-red flowers on Huolei Plain.

As strong liquor slid down his throat, his vision gradually blurred. His gaze was no longer sharp, becoming somewhat hazy. With no one around, he could allow his thoughts to take a temporary break.

“Achu, marry me.”

“Mm…”

“I will always be good to you.”

“I will always believe in you.”

“Achu, once the eastern battle is over, let’s get married.”

…

“Achu, all storms have passed, and we are still together.”

Everyone will change, but we won’t change.

We… won’t change…

A low, brief chuckle came from Cloud Sea Palace. Fengzhi was slightly startled and turned his head, only to smell the lingering fragrance of wine. In the past, His Majesty never drank, but ever since—ever since that person left, wine had become a necessity here.

Thinking of that person, Fengzhi suddenly felt a soreness in his nose.

In the end, they were two heartbroken people, scattered across the world, living on the edge of a knife, neither finding true peace.

The wind in Yan Bei was gradually getting colder; winter was coming again.

At this moment, at the dock of Xianyang, a group of people had just landed. Several men with wind-beaten faces led a few horses and said in a deep voice, “News came from home that no one knows the young master is away. The Seventh Master instructed that the young master should focus on his affairs and return within ten days, without worry.”

The man in purple frowned slightly, his appearance handsome, his lips crimson, his eyes like deep pools, profound and shimmering.

He nimbly mounted a horse, his face slightly showing signs of travel.

“To Tang capital from here, taking the shortcut would only be a three-day journey, though there aren’t many large towns along the way, which might make for a bumpy ride.”

“Time is pressing, let’s take the shortcut.”

An attendant turned to the man in purple and said, “Young Master, shall we prepare a carriage? You haven’t had a good sleep for days.”

“No need,” the man shook his head and asked in a deep voice, “Any news from Tang capital?”

“After the lady defeated Zhan Ziyu, the court quieted down. Recently, there’s been some clamor about who should serve as regent, but it doesn’t concern the lady—it’s Bian Tang’s internal affairs.”

The man nodded and said, “Let’s go.”

Everyone followed him onto their horses. Hooves splashed, and in the blink of an eye, they disappeared on the ancient road of Xianyang. Soon, they passed through the western city gate and went along the remote postal road.

An hour later, the royal envoy entered Xianyang City, announcing the edict that Chu Qiao had been appointed as the Beautiful Imperial Noble Consort. The city guard of Xianyang knelt in homage, then hurried back to his residence to organize the wealthy households of Xianyang to prepare congratulatory gifts for the new mistress.

After a long separation, everything had changed completely.

Time flew like a shuttle; in the rush, ten years of tumultuous events were revealed. Vaguely, she was no longer the young girl with hanging locks, nor was he the stubborn youth of the past. Time had drawn countless boundaries between them: family hatred, national grudges, love, war, vicissitudes, wandering, life and death, parting. Eventually, friendship and debt also took their places, like the layers of embroidered silk, no matter how much one pulled, the endless threads could not be exhausted.

The long wind blew from the distant Yan Bei, swept across the vast territory of Great Xia, entered the deep autumn of Bian Tang, passed through the beautiful flowers of Huaisong, and toward the vast blue sea in the extreme east, submerged in the snow-white waves.

“The road hasn’t reached its end yet, there might still be other variables. Are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Remember, I’m waiting for you.”

The night was cold, the moonlight bright, covering the ancient road and forest.

That warm fragment of memory was ultimately washed away by endless bloody storms and flashing swords, leaving only the cold reality that clearly distinguished the expectations of the past from the current situation.

Hooves rolled continuously day and night. The long-missed ancient city of Tang was now in sight.