In summer, the lotus flowers in the lake bloomed in full splendor, their delicate fragrance drifting now and then across the water.

The four of them sat around the small table, sipping mountain flower tea and eating pastries, utterly at ease.

Feng Jiu’er savored a bite of pastry contentedly, then looked up at Long Buqu. “Uncle, do you know what Grandfather and I were just talking about?”

“What about?” Long Buqu asked gently.

“About finding you an aunt.” Feng Jiu’er shot Long Di a meaningful glance.

“That’s right.” Long Di caught on and nodded. “Just look at you—at your age, and still not moving on it.”

“My own son is four years older than you, and his daughter is already old enough to marry. Where’s your daughter? Where’s your son?”

“Grandfather, you should ask him where his wife is.” Feng Jiu’er looked at Long Di, smiling as she prompted him.

Grandfather’s spirits had been improving more and more, and he had come to accept the fact of her mother’s death—this was the thing that comforted Feng Jiu’er most.

“Right, right, right.” Long Di nodded with a smile, then glared at Long Buqu. “Where’s your wife? Where is she? How much longer do you want me to wait? Do I really have that much time left to live?”

“Grandfather, you’ve gotten it wrong again.” Feng Jiu’er looked at Long Di and shook her head.

Long Di met her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly.

Feng Jiu’er looked at him and instructed earnestly, “You should say: ‘Even though I may live to be a hundred, you still can’t keep dragging this out forever.'”

“Right.” Long Di nodded with great seriousness, then looked at Long Buqu again.

“Even though I may live to be a hundred, you still shouldn’t keep dragging this out forever.”

“The older you get, the less good-looking your children will turn out—isn’t that a waste of good genes?”

“That’s not right.” Long Di’s graying brows knit together as his gaze returned to Feng Jiu’er. “Jiu’er, what does ‘waste of genes’ mean?”

“A waste of genes is just a waste of genes.” Feng Jiu’er met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Just teach Uncle exactly like that—he’ll understand.”

“All right.” Long Di nodded, turned his gaze to Long Buqu. “Don’t waste your genes, understand?”

“Mm.” Long Buqu nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

A small table, a few plates of pastries, a pot of tea, four people—simple, yet so very warm.

…

The day after Ye Xuening was executed, Di Wu Ya ascended the throne.

The entire nation celebrated together; the imperial city was packed with people, bustling with life.

After a long series of ceremonies, the emperor returned to the palace to receive the kneeling homage of his officials.

In the great hall, Di Wu Ya sat upon the dragon throne in his dragon robes, looking utterly majestic.

Tall in stature, breathtakingly handsome, and possessed of an overwhelming presence, he had only to sit upon the throne—without doing anything at all—to command everyone’s willing submission.

Qiao Mu and Zhao Yusheng had come representing Black Canyon, seated off to the side, watching everything unfold within the hall.

Qiao Mu’s admiration for the man seated on the dragon throne had never once wavered—but there was one thing she truly could not understand.

More than ten days had passed, and the emperor still had not gone to see Jiu’er.

He clearly loved Jiu’er deeply—so why, for more than ten days, had he made no move to find her?

Jiu’er was just as stubborn—even with imperial decrees arriving daily, she refused to set foot inside the palace gates again.

If this had happened before, no matter how busy the emperor was, he would surely have made time to go find Jiu’er.

But to Qiao Mu’s disappointment, Di Wu Ya had done no such thing.

The two of them, who had been perfectly fine that very day, had suddenly become like strangers to one another—Qiao Mu simply couldn’t make sense of it.

Suddenly, a eunuch made his way to the hall’s entrance and slipped quietly inside.

The officials were still kneeling one by one in homage; Qiao Mu’s and Zhao Yusheng’s seats had been arranged farther toward the edge.

The eunuch came up to Qiao Mu, leaned in to murmur a few words by her ear, then quietly slipped away again without disturbing the proceedings in the hall.

After hearing the news the eunuch had brought, Qiao Mu frowned and looked toward Di Wu Ya seated on the throne.

As a group of kneeling officials rose and turned to leave, Qiao Mu stood up and strode forward into the hall.

“Your Majesty.” She came to a stop not far from Di Wu Ya and cupped her hands in salute. “This subject has a matter to report.”

“Granted.” Di Wu Ya waved a hand.

Qiao Mu hadn’t really wanted to bring up such a private matter in the great hall.

But after hearing the news, she’d been overcome with anxiety.

“Your Majesty, this subject… has received word that Miss Jiu’er has… left the city.”

Qiao Mu had been certain that on hearing Jiu’er had left, Di Wu Ya would be consumed with worry.

But never in her wildest dreams had Qiao Mu imagined that Di Wu Ya would show absolutely no reaction at all!

This truly left her deeply disappointed!

Could it be that now that he had become emperor, matters of the heart no longer mattered to him at all?

Qiao Mu’s expression darkened, a knot of frustration tightening in her chest.

With a wave of her hand, she said, “This subject has other urgent matters to attend to—I take my leave!”

And with that, ignoring the emperor’s authority entirely, she turned and walked away.

This—this was far too brazen!

Behind her, murmurs broke out as the officials whispered amongst themselves, yet none dared say anything aloud.

The moment Qiao Mu stepped out of the great hall, she vaguely heard the chief eunuch speaking.

And what he spoke of was still nothing but court affairs!

Di Wu Ya truly was completely unmoved!

Could it be that even she had misjudged him?

Qiao Mu was both furious and anxious, but the most pressing matter now was to catch up with Jiu’er first!

…

At the gates of the imperial city, lanterns and decorations hung everywhere, the scene lively and festive.

A woman in a white riding outfit sat astride her horse, quietly gazing at the bustling street.

After some unknown stretch of time, she drew a deep breath and gave a faint smile. “Farewell, my Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, took hold of the reins, and was about to ride out of the city.

Behind her, someone came galloping up on a swift horse. “Jiu’er, wait! Wait for me!”

Qiao Mu, drenched in sweat from urgency, finally managed to catch up with Feng Jiu’er just before she left the city.

“Jiu’er, are you really going to look for your father? You’re… you’re just going to abandon everything like this?”

“It’s not as if I’m never coming back.” Feng Jiu’er turned and gave her a smile.

But within that smile, a faint trace of disappointment could be seen.

The person she’d been waiting for hadn’t come.

A wave of helplessness washed over Qiao Mu. “Jiu’er, he… he’s still in court. He’s not… going to come.”

But Jiu’er only smiled. “Is that so?”

Within her line of sight, a single horse came charging forward, cutting through the wind.

It moved so fast that by the time Qiao Mu turned to look, she couldn’t even make out the rider’s face.

The figure had already swept past them.

Without the horse slowing in the slightest, a large hand came down on Feng Jiu’er’s arm.

With just a gentle pull, Jiu’er was lifted clean off her own horse, and in the blink of an eye, found herself in his arms.

“Zhuiyue, follow!”

Jiu’er’s abandoned blood-sweating steed let out a whinny and bounded after them with delight.

No other horse could possibly keep pace with Zhuifeng and Zhuiyue’s speed.

In what felt like no time at all, the two riders and their two horses had vanished from sight.

Left behind, Qiao Mu watched the dust rising on the road, and the heart that had ached for so long finally, finally relaxed.

Who said he loved his kingdom more than his beloved?

Now, hadn’t he just abandoned his entire kingdom for the sake of his beloved?

The Ninth Prince would never, ever disappoint…

The sunlight that day was golden and brilliant.

The wind brushed against them, warm, carrying with it a sweet, lingering scent.

After some time, Zhuifeng finally slowed, walking forward at an easy pace.

“You… you were crowned today. As the sovereign of an entire nation, how could you just run off?”

Though she said this, Jiu’er, nestled in Di Wu Ya’s embrace, found she never wanted to leave again.

Di Wu Ya’s large hand came to rest on her head, gently ruffling her hair.

“Still upset with me for not coming to find you all these days?”

“No.” She glanced up at him—and saw faint shadows beneath this man’s eyes.

How exhausted must he have been, these past days?

She had never seen him look so weary before.

Di Wu Ya pulled her tightly into his arms, lowered his head, buried his face in the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes.

“I’ve given this entire realm to Feimu.”

“Ninth Imperial Uncle—” Feng Jiu’er’s heart jolted, and she tried to see his face.

But he kept his face buried in the curve of her neck, giving her no chance to look!

He had given the entire kingdom to Di Feimu!

Was he giving up being emperor entirely?

Yet Di Wu Ya’s thin lips curved up slightly. “What use is a kingdom to me, without you in it?”

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er bit her lip, her heart aching, tears nearly spilling over.

So this whole time, the reason he hadn’t come to find her was that he’d been endlessly busy.

Busy stabilizing the kingdom he had only just reclaimed.

Busy handling every last matter so that he could hand the entire realm over to Di Feimu!

Her Ninth Imperial Uncle was a man who accomplished great things—but every great thing he did was for the sake of giving her the future she truly wanted.

And yet she had been petty enough to sulk and stay angry at him.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m sorry…”

“Why apologize? Is it because I now have nothing at all, and you no longer want me?”

“You know perfectly well that’s not what I meant…”

Jiu’er didn’t want to keep saying words of self-reproach.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they held the most radiant smile in all the world.

“It’s all right, Ninth Imperial Uncle—you’re so good-looking, you can just be my kept man. From now on, I’ll take care of you!”

Jiu’er pulled at the reins, her face turned toward the brilliant sun, her smile blooming like a flower.

“Once we find Father, we’ll make our home wherever we go and live a free and easy life.”

“Zhuifeng, Zhuiyue—let’s go!”

The two riders and their two horses went galloping off through the forest once more.

Behind them, a trail of dust rose into the air.

The road ahead still stretched on far and long, but as long as you were by my side, however long that road might be, it would always be a broad, sure path toward happiness.

From that day on, wherever you were, that was home.