Di Wuyou stared at Zhan Liyue without blinking, his entire body completely rigid.

He composed himself and only then processed Ye Luosha’s words.

“Why has Mo Bai not come yet?” Di Wuya called out in a cold voice.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, I will go and check at once.” Elder Shi rose and strode away.

The moment they heard the news, Di Wuya and Di Feimu had rushed over; Yu Jingfeng had gone to find Mo Bai.

“Go and prepare the finest medicinal herbs. Quickly!” Di Wuya fixed his gaze on the two army physicians, his voice rising again.

“Yes, yes.” The physicians nodded and hurried out.

“Go on then — why aren’t you moving!” Ye Luosha fixed her gaze on Di Wuyou, truly wishing she could go over and drag him there herself.

“Cold Star, Wuyou… do not… force him! I… Wu…” Zhan Liyue’s hand, which she had just stretched out, dropped and fell in midair.

She let out a soft cough, and black blood continued to pour from her mouth.

Di Wuya glanced at Di Feimu, and Di Feimu immediately moved forward to support Zhan Liyue.

“Wuya, do not!” Zhan Liyue struggled, and black blood surged continuously from her mouth. “Do not… waste your strength. There is still a hard… battle ahead.”

“All of you… go out. I wish to say… a few words to Wuyou. All of you, go… out.”

Zhan Liyue, leaning in Di Feimu’s arms, looked at Di Wuya, the corners of her mouth curling slightly upward.

“To be able to see you all anxious… for my sake — I have… no regrets.”

“Mother.” Suddenly, Di Wuyou’s voice rang out inside the tent.

Instantly, everyone looked at him — and of course, so did Zhan Liyue.

Zhan Liyue looked at him and drew in a sharp, fierce breath.

“Wuyou, you must… live… well… live… free from sorrow and worry… live…”

Having spoken the last complete sentence, Zhan Liyue’s head tilted to one side and her eyes fell shut, yet the corners of her mouth still carried a smile.

“Sister.” Ye Luosha knelt down and took Zhan Liyue from Di Feimu’s arms into her own.

“Do not die! You cannot die! Sister, if you die and leave me alone, how could I possibly manage those three brothers?”

“Sister, open your eyes quickly. Quickly!”

No matter how Ye Luosha shook Zhan Liyue, she kept her eyes tightly closed with not the slightest response.

……

In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.

Zhan Liyue’s passing had caused Di Wuya to delay his plan to send out troops.

To stabilize the morale of the troops, the news of Zhan Liyue’s passing had been concealed by Ye Luosha.

She announced only to the outside world that Her Majesty the Empress had been the victim of an assassination attempt, had sustained injuries, and had been settled in the city to recuperate — nothing more.

Since that day, Di Wuyou had not spoken another word.

Ye Luosha, worried that something would happen to him, had barely left the military camp — all for the sake of keeping watch over this foolish young man.

That day at noon, Ye Luosha, as she had done before, carried the midday meal and lifted the curtain of Di Wuyou’s tent.

“Time to eat.” She glanced at the person sitting on the sleeping platform and said lightly.

Di Wuyou had maintained his current posture for exactly two full days; he sat on the sleeping platform, holding a cloth sack in his arms.

Ye Luosha looked at the untouched morning meal on the table and shook her head.

For these past two days, every time she came, the situation was the same.

Even through the night, he sat like this, like a statue.

Ye Luosha let out a soft sigh, set down the tray in her hands, and turned to look at Di Wuyou.

“The dead cannot return to life. If you fall ill, she would still worry for you.”

Zhan Liyue’s departure had been a heavy blow to Ye Luosha as well, but she was an elder; at such a critical moment, how could she allow herself to remain downcast?

She deeply resented herself, and she resented Di Wuyou too — but later, she had thought it through.

Everyone knew what Di Wuyou had endured all these years; how could she blame him?

As for herself — having indirectly caused the death of her own elder sister — the only thing she could do was to complete what Zhan Liyue had left unfinished.

Ye Luosha drew a deep breath, ladled out a bowl of congee, turned around, and walked toward Di Wuyou.

Yet to her surprise, the person who had not moved at all suddenly stood up and strode toward the outside.

Ye Luosha casually set the bowl on the chair beside her, turned, and quickly gave chase.

“Wuyou, what are you doing?”

When Ye Luosha came out, Di Wuyou had already leapt onto a horse and was galloping swiftly forward.

Two soldiers came rushing over and asked quietly: “General Ye, what has happened to the Third Prince?”

“A horse, quickly! Go and prepare a horse.” Ye Luosha looked all around but could not find any horse, growing very anxious.

“Yes.” One soldier nodded and ran off.

“Go and inform His Highness the Crown Prince that the Third Prince has fled.” Ye Luosha said to the other soldier.

“Yes.” The other soldier also nodded and turned to leave.

As Ye Luosha turned, she saw a soldier coming on horseback; she glanced at Di Wuyou’s receding figure and strode toward the soldier.

The soldier on horseback, seeing Ye Luosha approaching, immediately dismounted.

Ye Luosha leapt up, barely seated on the horse, immediately pulled the reins taut, and set off at speed.

“Wuyou, what are you doing? Stop right now! What are you doing?”

Emperor Ji, worried about Di Wuyou’s condition, had had no choice but to ask Ye Luosha to stay and keep watch over Di Wuyou.

Having witnessed Zhan Liyue die before his very eyes, Di Wuyou finally stopped doubting his own identity.

But it was too late for everything; he had caused the death of his own birth mother.

Since Zhan Liyue’s passing, Di Wuyou had not said a single word, like a mute.

Di Wuya had not forced him to speak about what lay behind it all.

Up until now, no one besides Di Wuyou himself knew why he had regarded Zhan Liyue as the enemy who had killed his parents.

Di Wuyou held the reins with one hand, and with the other gripped the bulging cloth sack held against his chest.

He rode the horse onward without stopping, and every now and then, Zhan Liyue’s voice rang in his ears.

“From now on, you shall be called Wuyou.”

“Wuyou, come — eat with your mother.”

“You are my Third Prince; from now on, we are your family.”

“Wuyou, can you talk with your mother?”

“He is my son, my Wuyou — it cannot be wrong!”

“A mother and son are connected by heart; he must be my Wuyou.”

“From now on, live well…”

“Wuyou.”

“Wuyou.”

Zhan Liyue’s voice kept ringing in his ears; Di Wuyou tightly knitted his brow and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes once more, he even seemed to see her face.

His mother’s face was covered entirely in scars; at the beginning, so as not to affect his appetite, she had even covered it with a gauze veil.

His mother had asked him many times whether he minded her ugliness.

On one occasion, he had casually replied “No” — he had only said it because he found her too bothersome and wanted to give her an answer.

He had not expected that she would happily pull off the veil and tell him she had long grown accustomed to her own face.

It was fortunate that he did not mind, she had said — after all, this face could not be healed any longer.

At the time, all he had felt was irritation, his mind filled with nothing but hatred.

But now, he seemed to want to look at that face again — so desperately, so desperately wanted to!