Yelu Qianqian seemed to have been struck right at her most vulnerable point. She stood frozen by the door, pointing accusingly at Ziqing, yet utterly unable to get any words out!

Ziqing said nothing, simply waiting for her.

Then, after a brief moment, Yelu Qianqian suddenly spun around. Ziqing was mildly startled—was she leaving?

But instead, Yelu Qianqian slammed the door shut with a loud bang!

Only then did Ziqing let out a quiet breath of relief—she understood that if the girl had actually left just then, she wouldn’t have come back at all.

Ziqing rose and personally poured a cup of tea, setting it aside and gesturing for Yelu Qianqian to sit.

Yelu Qianqian sniffled but didn’t sit, laying down her terms first. “I’m only telling this to you, and you can’t tell anyone else—especially not Situ Haonan!”

“Mm.” Ziqing nodded seriously, though unease was already stirring within her.

“Once I return to Xijing, I’ll have to prepare to be married off to Xiliang,” Yelu Qianqian said, lowering her head in silence.

Ziqing was momentarily stunned, then asked without thinking, “Is this because of me?”

Though Xijing would ultimately emerge victorious in its war with Western Chu, the half-year conflict had drained a significant portion of Xijing’s military strength, and relations between Xiliang and Xijing had always been erratic at best, swinging between warmth and hostility.

Back around the time Ziqing had first entered Prince Yao’s household, the Crown Prince of Xiliang had sought Yelu Qianqian’s hand in marriage, and when she’d refused, tensions between the two nations had flared into open conflict—it was only when Xijing’s great general, Dugu Xianyun, mobilized a hundred thousand troops to the border that Xiliang had finally been forced to withdraw!

Though Xiliang wasn’t as savage as the Huns, it remained a rather uncivilized nation, with a rigid hierarchy of status and, in particular, a deeply entrenched, harsh disdain for women. Even marrying in as the honored Crown Princess would offer little real comfort.

For the Emperor of Xijing to agree to marry off Princess Qianqian now was, without question, a clear sign that Xijing’s military strength had been severely depleted, and that they now feared provoking Xiliang.

It was even possible that, in order to secure their rear and fight the war against Western Chu without worry, they’d already promised the marriage to Xiliang long before now!

It was something Ziqing should have realized sooner—only, she hadn’t expected to come to this realization at such a moment.

A wave of guilt washed over her at once. Toward those with genuine ill intent, she never showed mercy—but toward a girl like Yelu Qianqian, though she had no wish to grow close to her, she certainly didn’t want to see her life ruined either.

Without waiting for Yelu Qianqian to answer, Ziqing said at once, “I’ll help you think of a way!”

But Yelu Qianqian grew serious instead. “It’s not because of you. It’s my father—my father had already set his sights on Western Chu long ago. After the war between Western Chu and Da Zhou, when Western Chu’s strength was severely depleted, my father began scheming against them even then!”

Hearing this, Ziqing froze at once.

She’d completely overlooked the Emperor of Xijing.

On this continent, was there a single ruler who didn’t carefully weigh the times and seize every opportunity that arose? Who among them would ever pass up a chance to dominate Longyuan simply because Jun Beiyue happened to be preoccupied with curing the poison in her body?

“Last time, General Dugu led troops to repel Xiliang’s forces, and Xiliang dropped the matter of the marriage alliance entirely. This time, it was my own father who brought it up first.”

As Yelu Qianqian spoke, though she fought hard to hold back, her voice finally broke with a choked sob, and as tears slid down her cheeks, she hastily wiped them away!

Ziqing sank back into her chair, brow furrowed as she looked at this girl. Nothing was more ruthless than the ways of royal families—all the fine silks, all the wealth and glory, all the untouchable status in the world, yet never, ever the freedom to choose one’s own fate.

Yelu Qianqian’s eyes had already brimmed with tears, yet she kept stubbornly wiping them away, refusing to let them fall.

None of this had been shared with her by her father—he’d told her he’d been left with no choice, that he was thinking of Xijing’s people first, unwilling to let them suffer further through prolonged war. He’d also told her that the reason he’d agreed to the match with Xiliang was because the conflict between her and Chu Feiyan had sparked this entire war in the first place!

But in truth, she’d secretly looked into it herself.

All of this—these words, these truths—she’d had no one to share them with. She’d been holding it all in for so, so long, to the point where it had nearly made her ill!

One pair of eyes clouded with worry, the other blurred with tears—their gazes met, and the room fell utterly silent.

Ziqing wasn’t sure why she felt this way, but she did—she found herself wondering, if Yelu Qianqian were her own sister, what would she do?

Suddenly, Ziqing stood up. “Run away. Kidnap Situ Haonan and flee to the ends of the earth—I’ll help you.”

At these words, Yelu Qianqian, her eyes still swimming with tears, froze for a moment, then broke into unexpected laughter, her tear-streaked face blossoming into a smile that only made Ziqing’s heart ache all the more.

Yelu Qianqian’s smile was a bitter one. She shook her head. “My father has already given his word to Xiliang. If I ran away, I would truly become a criminal against Xijing—I’d bring disaster down on the common people of Xijing’s western frontier! I can’t leave.”

That this weak, willful, spoiled girl—so often unreasonable and difficult—could say something like that left Ziqing feeling almost ashamed of herself.

Thinking it over calmly, she realized her own suggestion just now had indeed been rather absurd.

“I’ll help you—I’ll come hunting with all of you!”

This was truly the most Ziqing could offer. She understood, woman to woman, exactly what Yelu Qianqian wanted, and she understood too that none of this could ever reach Situ Haonan’s ears.

Perhaps, someday, Situ Haonan would suddenly find himself unaccustomed to not having that clingy little Qianqian by his side anymore—but discomfort like that, given enough time, would eventually fade into habit too.

Fortunately, it was only habit, not deep love.

Hearing Ziqing’s words, Yelu Qianqian broke into a smile at once, her innocent, delicate face streaked with both tears and joy, the sight making it impossible not to feel happy for her, and equally impossible not to feel a pang of unspoken sorrow on her behalf.

Ziqing thought to herself, well done, little sister Qianqian—well done indeed!

“Han Ziqing, in my next life, I want to be just like you—born as a lesser daughter, free and unburdened, and then find myself a prince to marry!” Yelu Qianqian said with a laugh.

Such innocent thinking—being a lesser daughter and marrying a prince were worlds apart. There were countless lesser daughters in this world, but how many princes were there, really?

She and Jun Beiyue had simply been a matter of chance, perhaps.

She herself had no idea whether her own Lonely Isle bloodline might someday bring her the same kind of helpless, unspeakable suffering that Yelu Qianqian now faced.

With Ziqing’s promise secured, this ever-optimistic girl happily made her way back, content to let the future arrive whenever it would and to let the past remain behind her—all she wanted now was to cherish the present.

Watching Yelu Qianqian head off toward Situ Haonan’s quarters, Ziqing couldn’t help but curve her lips into a warm, gentle smile.

It was a pity she wasn’t strong enough yet—neither she nor Beiyue, nor Da Zhou itself, was strong enough yet to properly protect a good sister like this one.

She could only hope that, out at the hunting grounds, the Empress of Dongqin and Xuanyuan Zhaoxi wouldn’t cause any trouble.

Her stomach growled, and only then did Ziqing realize how hungry she was—and that she should go find Hongyi. What was taking that girl so long to bring dinner?

Just as she was about to head out to look for her, Hongyi returned through a side door, carrying a large tray of food—all dishes Ziqing particularly enjoyed.

“What took you so long? Slacking off?” Ziqing remarked casually, already reaching for her chopsticks. Hunger had a way of making everything taste wonderful.

“Not at all,” Hongyi replied just as casually, though her mind was in turmoil, uncertain whether she should tell her mistress what she’d overheard, and even more uncertain how she’d even begin to say it.

If she said nothing, she felt she ought to at least offer some kind of warning—but how could she possibly phrase such a warning?

On the journey to Nanzhao, she’d already reported on Shiliang once before, and had earned nothing but a cold look from her mistress for the trouble.

Watching her mistress eat with such evident enjoyment, Hongyi couldn’t bring herself to interrupt. After a moment’s thought, she simply asked instead, “My lady, when do you think my lord will be back?”

But Ziqing, distracted, replied, “I’m not sure myself. Go get things ready—tomorrow we’re going hunting. Have Yingzi and Physician Gu stay behind here. If anyone comes asking after my lord’s whereabouts, tell them he’ll explain it to the King of Nanzhao himself.”

Hongyi, at a loss, hesitated for a long moment before finally withdrawing.