Having lived so long, I had only ever experienced being cared for by others, but had never tended to anyone myself.

And it was actually a man other than my prince consort, no less.

Yet in this mortal world, aren’t there countless unpredictable things beyond just one or two?

After Xu Fang drank that bowl of medicine, he vomited blood incessantly. Qinggu expended tremendous effort to suppress the toxicity flaring up within his body, but after that, he never regained consciousness.

Qinggu said that if he showed no improvement within three days, I feared there would be no salvation.

I kept vigil by Xu Fang’s bedside day and night without rest, wiping him clean and feeding him porridge water.

Xu Fang’s complexion grew worse by the day, his pulse becoming increasingly weak and thready. Apart from shaking her head, Qinggu eventually stopped saying anything at all.

Outside the room, I asked her, “Surely there must be some other remedy?”

Qinggu replied, “He himself has lost the will to live—what more can I do?”

I said in bewilderment, “He promised me he would try hard to wake up. How could he lack the will to survive?”

Qinggu said, “Though he’s currently trapped in unconsciousness, he may not be completely without perception. But each time I check his pulse, it remains eerily calm without the slightest fluctuation. Sigh, even if he were to wake up, what then? Your guilt toward him is so obvious that even I, an outsider, can see it—how could he not see it? If he woke up, it would only put you in an impossible position. Better for him to just pass away like this—at least then you might retain some fond memories of him in your heart.”

I: “…”

Qinggu said, “You don’t believe me? Mark my words—if you start whispering in his ear right now, ‘As long as you wake up, I’ll marry you,’ he’ll probably wake up by tomorrow!”

I: “…Qinggu, saying things like that makes me suspect you two are in cahoots, you know…”

Though I knew Qinggu was grasping at straws, I was moved by her words.

That night the moon was full and the stars sparse, the evening breeze gentle and leisurely.

I sat by the bedside in the moonlight, gazing at Xu Fang for a long while before steeling my resolve and slowly beginning to speak: “Xu Fang?”

His brows and eyes didn’t move a fraction.

“Having known each other for so long, I don’t think I’ve ever told you my name, have I?”

“Well… when I was born, the garden in front of our home was full of blooming crabapple blossoms, their graceful beauty enchanting and delicate. My father hoped I would be like those flowers, so he named me Qitang.”

“Actually, when I was small, I lived happily every day. Father and Mother loved me dearly, and I had an elder brother who doted on me so much he would have plucked the stars from the sky if I asked.”

“But somehow, later on, Father became busier and busier, Mother grew increasingly distant toward me, and Big Brother was occupied helping Father with his worries. I felt lost and alone with nowhere to turn. Once I even ran away from home and fell into a trap in the mountains—I had never felt so helpless in my life.”

“At that time, someone descended from the heavens and rescued me.”

“My heart never left his side after that.”

“Later, many things happened, and I was no longer the naive little girl I once was. But even when he treated me poorly—very poorly—I never betrayed the heart I had given him.”

“Xu Fang, you are the second person to rescue me from danger when I felt helpless and at a loss.”

“You treat me so well, truly so well. In all my years of life, you were the first person to tell me that I deserve to be treated better than anyone else in this world.”

“These past few days… I’ve occasionally wondered, what if the person I met at thirteen had been you instead…”

I deliberately paused without continuing, and only after a long while did I go on:

“If you simply sleep away like this, your past and your future—all of it will vanish like smoke. You’ve devoted yourself wholeheartedly to me, but I may not necessarily shed tears for such a stranger version of you. But if you wake up, though the future may be uncertain, at least there would be a future.”

I pondered for a long time, but in the end didn’t speak the final words.

Though I fear that even if I spend my entire life, I’ll never be able to forget him.

Finally I grew tired of talking and dozed off leaning against the bed. The next morning I was awakened by brilliant sunlight, and when I opened my eyes, I met another pair of eyes—clear and bright.

When Qinggu arrived and showed a smile, I asked Xu Fang with a stuffy nose, “You’re not having a final surge of energy before death, are you?”

A warm, sunny smile bloomed across Xu Fang’s paper-pale face.

I had always thought that after Xu Fang woke up, I could tell him openly that actually, everything I said that night were well-intentioned lies—I did it to save you, and now that you’re recovered I’m at peace too. I’m leaving now, don’t be sad, tomorrow will be better.

Then I could make my escape.

But the reality was that shortly after he woke up that day, he fainted again. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Qinggu said, “Post-poisoning aftereffects—this is perfectly normal. Don’t worry, he’ll gradually recover, but he can’t endure any major shocks, especially psychological ones.”

Hearing this, I silently withdrew the hand that had been packing my bundle.

Just like that, I ended up staying in this town for another month. My leg injury healed almost completely—I no longer needed crutches and could go shopping on the street.

Though Xu Fang wouldn’t let me go out alone, fearing I might catch something from the refugees who occasionally fled through.

The plague in the neighboring village still hadn’t subsided. Nearly half the village had already died from the disease, and the epidemic was spreading so rapidly that even the imperial physicians from the capital were helpless. I estimated that the court was reaching the point where they’d have to make harsh decisions.

After much thought, I took advantage of Xu Fang’s rest time to go out and meet with the local magistrate.

Though I had no identifying objects on me, Magistrate Huang trembled and knelt down the moment he saw me. As I had suspected, given Father Emperor’s temperament, when I ran away alone, he must have had my portrait painted and sent to government offices throughout the realm.

I had originally only wanted to understand the situation with the epidemic and disaster relief, but unexpectedly learned news that Father Emperor had fallen ill from missing me.

I wanted to rush back to the capital immediately, but seeing the sun setting in the west and unable to catch a boat, I decided to set out first thing the next morning.

Being anxious and preoccupied, I buried myself in thought on the way back, not paying attention to my surroundings. Suddenly I heard someone shout “Watch out!” and was tackled to the ground.

Looking up, I discovered my rescuer was Xu Fang.

Looking more carefully, I saw another person lying on top of him—someone who was barely breathing and collapsed to the ground the next moment, foaming at the mouth.

The passersby around us had long since scattered in fright.

Seeing that I was unharmed, Xu Fang quickly let go of me. He seemed afraid that he might have been infected and could transmit it to me, so he carefully took two steps back, frowning as he looked at the collapsed vagrant.

After examining the man more closely, I said, “Put your mind at ease. His hands, feet, and skin are clean and pale, and there are no signs of any rash on his neck. He just fainted from hunger and hasn’t contracted the plague. Besides, the officials would never allow infected people to leave the village.”

Only then did he seem to breathe a sigh of relief. “As long as you’re all right. Why did you go out on the street alone?”

I looked up at the sunlight filtering through the tree canopy onto his face, the dappled light and shadow making him look quite handsome.

At that moment I realized what a huge mistake I had made.

To save someone, I had spoken so many ambiguous words, and for over a month I hadn’t had the heart to speak the truth.

Princess Xiangyi’s dream could wake up at any time, but the dream she had woven for Xu Fang would never come true.

I lifted the vegetable basket and stuck out my tongue. “I wanted to add some meat to our meals, but who knew the plague would cause such chaos that there’s no poultry to be found. Looks like we’ll have to keep eating vegetables.”

Xu Fang took the basket from me, as if carrying it a moment longer would break my hand. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

He took me to the riverside to buy fish.

I watched him walk toward the distant sky and remembered our first meeting—the river water unchanged.

Under the shade of trees by the riverbank, several young women were pasting paper and weaving lanterns. Xu Fang had finished buying fish and returned. Seeing me lost in thought, he said, “Are they making sky lanterns?”

“Hmm?”

He said, “In two more days it will be the Qiqiao Festival. We have a custom here—unmarried young ladies personally make sky lanterns, write their names and wishes on them, and release them into the sky. When the lanterns come down, if a man finds one, he can bring the lantern to find that young lady. If she finds him appealing, it might result in a marriage.”

I said incredulously, “But what if some hideous monster picks it up?”

Xu Fang laughed. “She can refuse.”

“And if the young lady who released the sky lantern doesn’t appeal to the man, can he back out after coming to find her?”

Xu Fang thought for a moment and said, “I imagine those who come looking already harbored secret feelings…”

I said, “That seems rather difficult, doesn’t it? If it’s a custom, then that night there must be sky lanterns filling the heavens. Are they supposed to search for a needle in a haystack?”

Hearing this, Xu Fang smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that. But I’ve heard that in past years, men have truly found the sky lanterns made by their sweethearts among all those in the sky, becoming legendary romances. Perhaps when the heart points the way, the body can follow.”

I smiled without comment.

Xu Fang joked, “What? Do you want to try it too?”

I shook my head. “Didn’t you just say this is only for unmarried young ladies? Since I’m already married, it would be rather improper to join in…”

Xu Fang seemed about to speak but held back. I quickly interjected: “…Besides, I probably won’t be here for the Qiqiao Festival.”

Xu Fang looked at me in puzzlement.

I said, “I have to set out for home tomorrow.”

Xu Fang froze completely, as if he hadn’t processed what I’d said.

I pretended not to see his expression and naturally turned to look at the sky ahead. “Some time ago I wrote a letter to my father to report that I was safe, but today I unexpectedly received a letter from him reporting that he wasn’t safe. He said he missed me so much he made himself sick, and if I don’t return soon, I’ll be an unfilial daughter and get expelled from the family. Sigh.” I sighed and continued in one breath, “So tomorrow morning I have to catch the first boat across the river. Um, it might be very early, so if you can’t get up, you don’t need to see me off. Tonight… shall we eat grilled fish as my farewell meal?”

Xu Fang remained silent.

I turned back to look at him. “How about we buy some wine to drink?”

He still said nothing. Just as I was thinking of what else to say to lighten the mood, his voice sounded above my head: “So you’ve finally said it out loud.”

I was stunned.

“From the day I woke up until today, you’ve finally found a reason why you must leave, haven’t you?”

When the words were laid bare, I actually felt relieved.

Xu Fang asked, “Will we… never be able to see each other again?”

The night breeze blew his forehead hair, making it flutter and flutter, fluttering until my heart felt restless. I actually wanted to say something like “fate will reunite us across a thousand miles,” but when the words reached my mouth, they somehow became: “Yes, it would be better if we never meet again.”

Rather than ethereal fantasies.

I closed my eyes. “Xu Fang, let’s never see each other again.”

I waited for his response, but heard no reply. In the silence, he asked, “Why?”

“I won’t force you to do things you’re unwilling to do—you know this very clearly.” Xu Fang’s voice betrayed no emotion. “I think we’re at least friends. Why would you say such words to a friend—that you never want to see them again?”

Sadness spilled from his eyes, and I didn’t dare look at him.

“Because facing such a friend,” I said, “I feel guilty.”

He looked at me quietly. “If you were afraid of guilt, would you be saying such words to me right now?”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re not guilty—you’re afraid.” He stared at me intently. “You’re afraid that if I stay by your side, someday I might shake that person’s position in your heart.”

At that moment I was suddenly terrified. Xu Fang’s words pierced like a needle point into the confusion and unease I’d felt these past days.

Ripples appeared in his dark eyes. “You think you’ve been deceiving me all this time, but actually…”

I didn’t like him talking to me this way. “Stop.”

He continued, “You’ve been deceiving yourself.”

I said impatiently, “Who do you think you are? And do you even know who I am? Yes, you saved my life, and I’m very grateful to you. But if it weren’t for me, could you be standing here safe and sound right now? Xu Fang, let’s call it even—we owe each other nothing.” With that, I turned to leave.

But he grabbed me.

He said nothing, but I couldn’t shake off his hand and had to turn back around. “You’re right, I am afraid. The better you treat me, the more I fear you. The better you treat me, the worse he seems in comparison. He did save me, but not by risking his life like you did. He was occasionally considerate, but not as attentive as you in every detail. He has so many, so many good qualities in my heart, but once compared to you, they all seem so weak and small. Do you think I’m afraid of falling in love with you?” I shook my head. “No, Xu Fang, no.”

“I’m afraid I’ll stop loving him.” Tears fell unknowingly as I spoke. “Xu Fang, I can’t imagine, I don’t dare imagine that someday I might not love him anymore. I already love him to such a degree—what would you have me do?”

The grip on my hand gradually loosened.

Xu Fang looked at me with eyes that seemed almost retreating.

I let go of his hand, wiped away my tears with my sleeve, and walked straight back without paying him any more attention. He followed me quietly all the way, saying nothing.

Until we reached the front door, when I thought tonight’s fish was definitely not going to be eaten, he suddenly blocked my path. “That night when I was at death’s door, I heard you say something that made me fight desperately to open my eyes.”

I looked up extremely slowly.

“You said, if the person you met at thirteen had been me, if you hadn’t met anyone else but only me…” He asked, “Would you have loved me?”

A desolate emotion surged in my heart. I had asked myself this question countless times too…

I finally sighed. “I don’t know. I only know that in this world, there are no ‘what ifs.'”

That day I didn’t sleep all night. Strangely, Qinggu also didn’t return all night. At dawn when I heard the rooster crow, I left a letter and departed with my bundle.

Xu Fang didn’t come to see me off. Though this was expected, later whenever I thought of it, I wondered—if he had come that day, would I not have experienced the terrifying events that followed?

On the way to the dock, I inadvertently glimpsed Qinggu’s hurried figure. Seeing that it was still early and thinking of her care these past days and treatment of my leg injury, I decided it would be better to say goodbye before leaving.

She wove through the forest and stopped. I was about to catch up when I looked carefully and discovered another person standing before her. The next moment I saw Qinggu kneel on one knee and say respectfully, “Master.”

That person wore a black robe with hands clasped behind his back, his voice somewhat low and aged: “How is the young master?”

I hid behind a tree, my heart jolted. Young master? What young master?

I heard Qinggu say, “Most of the severe poison in his body has been neutralized, and his body is also recovering.”

Poison? Was Qinggu talking about Xu Fang?

The man asked, “Has he remembered anything?”

Qinggu replied, “His memory hasn’t recovered as expected after the forced detoxification. It may require more time.”

The man scolded harshly, “Do everything in your power.”

Qinggu acknowledged this, then said, “Master, why don’t you see him personally and tell him the truth of what happened…”

The man said, “His temperament has changed greatly due to his amnesia. There’s no guarantee what he might do after learning the truth. These days the Emperor is watching closely. If he hadn’t suddenly fallen ill and become too preoccupied to pay attention, I probably couldn’t have gotten away either. For now, let the young master stay hidden here. It’s actually better this way. Watch over him carefully and don’t let any more incidents occur.”

“Yes.”

Since that person kept his back turned, I couldn’t make out his appearance. I saw Qinggu hesitate for a moment, and without turning his head, the man asked coldly, “Is there something else?”

Qinggu said, “The young master rescued an injured woman several months ago and seems to… have developed feelings for her.”

“A woman? What’s her background?”

Qinggu said, “This subordinate doesn’t know, but judging from her clothing and behavior, she’s definitely not from an ordinary family…”

At this point in stories, the eavesdropper usually accidentally steps on a branch and gets discovered. Naturally I wouldn’t be so foolish, but unfortunately, while all my attention was focused ahead, I failed to notice someone approaching from behind.

When I heard “Who are you, and why are you hiding behind a tree listening to others’ conversation,” I turned to see a young girl with braids looking up at me innocently. My heart skipped a beat—now we were both doomed.

When I turned back around, I met Qinggu’s gaze directly. The black-robed man had also turned around. Though his face was covered and I couldn’t see his features, from his sharp eyes I clearly and unmistakably saw—killing intent.

When I tried to flee, Qinggu had already glided to my side. She glanced at me, and without giving me a chance to speak, knocked me unconscious.

The world went dark.

I vaguely felt myself being wrapped in a burlap sack and dragged across the ground.

This dazed state lasted I don’t know how long. When I could barely open my eyes, I found myself lying on a wooden bed in a hut.

The hut was dilapidated—not Qinggu’s wooden hut.

But Qinggu was sitting in the hut, as if waiting for me to wake up.

I tried to prop myself up, but found my limbs had no strength. My whole body burned like fire, and every breath felt obstructed and extremely oppressive.

Qinggu didn’t come over, just watched me quietly. I tried to speak but found even making a sound extremely difficult.

After a long silence, she said, “Don’t waste your energy. You’ve been infected with the plague—I personally administered the epidemic poison to you. Within two days, you will surely die.”

I pulled up my sleeve and looked at my arm covered in red sores.

Qinggu said, “Originally we planned to kill and bury you just like that little girl, but who would have thought the magistrate had already seen you? If you disappeared without a trace, the first place the people from the imperial city would search would be here. Rather than ruin Master’s grand plan, it’s better to let you die here from contracting the plague…”

She actually killed that little girl?

My palms broke out in sweat as I asked hoarsely, “This is… Chen Village?”

“You are indeed clever.”

Chen Village had been sealed off completely. In my current condition, there was no way I could escape.

“Princess, you are already a dying person.” Qinggu’s brows and eyes were full of pity. “Since we’ve known each other for some time, if you have any doubts or unfulfilled wishes, you might as well speak them—better than dying with your eyes unclosed.”

My chest suddenly felt suffocatingly blocked, and when I tried to catch my breath, I couldn’t help but start coughing.

She said, “If you don’t want to die too painfully, you mustn’t get agitated.”

I calmed myself and leaned back weakly against the pillow. “You go.”

“You’re not going to ask?”

I said woodenly, “Ask what? Ask what conspiracy your master Marquis Xia Yang has, or why your young master heir has amnesia?”

Qinggu said in shock, “You…”

I looked at the ceiling. “Someone who could recognize me at a glance but whose voice I couldn’t identify must not be an official who regularly has audiences in the capital. Since he calls Xu Fang ‘young master,’ they’re most likely father and son. Xu Fang lost his memory a year ago. Counting the time, among the officials in the Lingnan region who lost a son a year ago, there’s only one person.”

“Marquis Xia Yang, Nie Guang.”

“And Xu Fang is actually the heir, Nie Ran.”

Qinggu looked at me with almost horrified eyes.

“Though Marquis Xia Yang is a founding hero, he’s also a general who surrendered from the previous dynasty,” I met her gaze. “For my father emperor to monitor but not dare move against him, there’s only one reason.”

“Biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to rebel.”

The room fell into deathly silence.

“Princess Xiangyi truly lives up to her reputation.”

The next moment, the short blade from her sleeve flew swiftly toward my neck.

After a moment of stillness, I saw her eyes full of surging emotion.

She should have killed me without hesitation.

Why couldn’t she bring herself to do it?

But she didn’t give me an answer and left without looking back, disappearing without a trace.

I felt a bit sorry for Nie Guang in my heart—he really had raised a subordinate who wasn’t dedicated to her duties.

But when I finally managed to move to the door and tried to push it open to see what was outside, I realized I was wrong.

The door was locked tight, with only a wooden window that even if I removed the frame, I couldn’t crawl through.

Rumble.

As if my situation wasn’t miserable enough, thunder followed, and torrential rain poured down.

I stuck my head out the window. In the entire village that looked like ruins, apart from corpses lying on the ground, there wasn’t a single living person to be seen.

The world was dim and eerie, permeated with the aura of death.

The pouring rain seeped through cracks in the roof. Bean-sized raindrops soaked my hair, and the bone-chilling wind blew against my already burning body.

I stared blankly as moisture spread along the fabric and dripped from the hem of my clothes. Supporting myself with one hand on the table, I staggered a few steps before collapsing onto the bed, my limbs too weak to exert any strength.

That was the first time in my life I truly realized death—realized my own helplessness, and more terrifyingly, realized that waiting to die was more frightening than death itself.

I thought and thought, from running away from home to leaving Xu Fang, trying hard to understand exactly how I had tormented myself to death before dying.

But heaven wouldn’t even grant me this small privilege. I woke and fainted, fainted and woke again, until finally I could only feel my life ebbing away bit by bit and could no longer think.

After a day and night like this, when the second day dawned and bright sunlight through the window completely dried my soaked clothes, I found I had regained a little strength.

But this wasn’t because my body had conquered the disease. When I lifted my clothes and saw my torso covered in red rashes, when every inch of my skin felt like countless insects were ravaging and churning through it, I thought I had truly come full circle—in this lifetime I had finally experienced a final surge of energy before death.

Therefore, when I discovered that the sealed door had been blown open by last night’s storm, I felt no joy at the prospect of escape.

I even curled up in the corner, unwilling to move.

Going outside would mean dying in the street—what an unseemly way to die.

In the end, it was the commotion outside that drew me out.

The court had issued its final ultimatum: burn the village at sunset.

So all the villagers who still had breath left went mad trying to break through the soldiers and rush out, but the result was merely becoming souls under the blade earlier than expected.

I leaned against the doorframe in a daze, pondering that rather than being burned to death, I should think of a quick way to end myself. Across from me, a ten-year-old girl emerged from a small wooden hut, clutching several bamboo strips in her hands, red rashes already spreading up to her cheeks.

Her expression was even calmer than mine: “Sister, you’re not dead yet, are you?”

The dilapidated room was filled with various colored cotton papers.

She said her name was Xiao Ning.

Her parents had already died in that earthquake, and the grandmother who had been caring for her had also died of illness not long ago.

She said she wanted to make a kongming lantern to pray for her relatives in heaven.

I remembered that day when Xu Fang invited me to spend the Qiqiao Festival together, and how resolutely I had refused.

I sat down to help Xiao Ning paste paper.

As I pasted, I couldn’t help but laugh.

…Laughing at the tricks of fate.

Time spent waiting to die always passes faster than time spent studying.

When the setting sun painted the sky red, we finally completed a lantern.

Xiao Ning was amazed by my red-orange-yellow-green-blue-indigo-violet colored lampshade, saying she had never seen such a unique sky lantern in all her years.

I said proudly that this was a rainbow lantern—wouldn’t seeing a rainbow at night be one of life’s great pleasures? Then I told her to quickly write her wish on it.

—Any later would be too late.

Yesterday heaven sent heavy rain, today the air was dry—perfect weather for releasing lanterns and setting fires.

The mountain light suddenly set in the west, the new moon gradually rose in the east.

Stepping outside, I saw sky lanterns in all directions like a starry sky, flowing with brilliant colors.

Among them, most were released by young ladies seeking suitable husbands.

At the village head, fierce flames were already burning, the acrid smell carried toward us by the eastern wind.

Xiao Ning came out holding the lantern.

I sighed deeply in my heart—there was also a dying girl releasing one for her parents in heaven.

She handed me the brush, smiling brilliantly despite her labored breathing: “Sister, you write your wish on it too.”

A wish?

I shook my head. “I don’t have any wishes.”

She tilted her little head and forcibly stuffed the brush into my hand. “Just now when you were making the lantern, I saw you lost in thought the whole time.”

I was lost in thought?

At this point, what could I still be unable to let go of? I clearly remembered not thinking of anyone.

Oh yes, Xu Fang.

I was thinking about what Xu Fang said about finding sky lanterns—I wondered if when he saw that sky lantern, would he discover it was one I released?

Thinking this way, I didn’t realize my hand had unconsciously put brush to the lampshade.

“Song, Langsheng?” Xiao Ning’s voice interrupted my tangled thoughts. “Who is he?”

Song Langsheng.

These three characters were clearly etched on the rainbow lantern, etched deep into bone and heart.

Even though my mind was trying hard to think of another person, my body had betrayed my will.

My vision suddenly became blurred, tears welling up and obscuring everything before me.

I still remembered this year’s Lantern Festival, when the palace inside and out was decorated with lanterns and colored streamers.

When my prince consort and I came out from the palace banquet, the snow was too thick so we had to walk back to the residence.

He walked ahead, I behind, admiring those myriad lights.

For some unknown reason he was in good spirits—walking along, he came to walk alongside me.

Fireworks bloomed in the distant sky.

He suddenly said, “I once saw daytime fireworks among the common people—the sight was no less magnificent than at night.”

I turned to look at him. The corners of his mouth carried a smile, and thinking he was remembering his former lover, I felt quite displeased and said, “What’s so great about that? This princess has even seen nighttime rainbows.”

Song Langsheng snorted with laughter, too lazy to even acknowledge me.

I stamped my foot and stopped. “What are you laughing at? You don’t believe me?”

Song Langsheng continued walking forward. I hurried to catch up, saying, “I’m telling the truth—nighttime rainbows are much more beautiful than daytime ones.”

Song Langsheng simply burst out laughing.

Xiao Ning lit the lamp oil, and I looked up watching the sky lantern slowly rise.

The rainbow light was dazzling.

If my prince consort were here, I would definitely tell him: Look, I didn’t lie to you—nighttime rainbows are ten thousand times more beautiful than daytime ones.

Even though the night moon had disappeared, even though flames scorched people, even though the rainbow lantern had already drifted away with the wind…

“Sister! Watch out!”

Xiao Ning’s voice seemed to come from very, very far away.

The moment I turned my head, what I saw in my pupils was a burning beam collapsing toward me.

I didn’t dodge.

Instead, I closed my eyes.

Thinking of one person, madly thinking of that person.

When thinking of that person, heaven and earth suddenly became distant, all things would disappear, leaving only that one person.

But suddenly my waist tightened, my body felt light, and I heard the long cry of horse hooves.

“Princess…”

That familiar voice rang out, branded on the tip of my heart.

I didn’t dare open my eyes.

I didn’t dare believe.

I felt myself being held tightly in someone’s arms, felt the warm body temperature, felt the rising and falling on horseback, felt that none of this was an illusion.

When the horse reached the village gate stockade and soldiers moved forward to try to stop us, the person holding me declared with magnificent presence, word by word: “I am Prince Consort Song Langsheng of Daqing! Who dares stop me!”

I turned my head.

Behind him were thousands upon thousands of sky lanterns, but when the firelight reflected on his face, it seemed all the radiance in the sky was crushed by those clear pupils.

Such elegance, such unparalleled refinement—there was absolutely no second like it in the world.

——————————————Second Update——————————————————

I couldn’t help wanting to touch his face to see if everything would dissolve into bubbles.

But I saw my own hand covered with red sores.

When recuperating at Qinggu’s home, she had said: “This plague is highly contagious—anyone who has contact with a patient will hardly escape infection.”

I stopped the hand reaching toward him.

He focused on urging the horse forward, light and shadow making his face appear and disappear.

The bumpy, swaying journey didn’t let him notice my strange behavior.

Actually I very much wanted to ask him: Didn’t you leave? Why would you appear here?

I tremblingly removed the hairpin from my head, my long hair scattering in the wind.

But did any of this still matter? What could be more important than his appearance?

I stabbed the hairpin toward the hand that was holding me, took advantage of the opening to leap toward the slope of the mountain path, no longer afraid in my heart.

But I heard a loud shout: “A’Tang——”

My body didn’t tumble down the mountain. I looked back to see that hand, that hand flowing with blood, gripping me tightly.

In a moment of distraction, he also leaped from horseback, his other hand also encircling me, pressing me firmly against his chest. His whole body fell backward, sliding along the rough, uneven ground, but never once letting go of me.

Until we stopped, stopped for a very, very long time.

The hands holding me never relaxed even slightly.

I turned my head and saw a trail of blood, saw his entire back and legs soaked with blood.

The strongest yet softest place in my heart was shattered by him.

I couldn’t control my tears at all. I didn’t know if it was from fear or anger, but I almost roared at him: “Song Langsheng! Are you insane?”

But when I looked up, I saw those eyes that rarely showed emotion had become unbearably red, shouting at me with even more anger and loss of control than mine: “Yes! I am insane! If I weren’t insane, would I have run through every street and alley in the capital when you left the palace? If I weren’t insane, would I have spent four whole months doing nothing but searching for you? If I weren’t insane, would I have ridden five horses to death racing here non-stop for three days and nights after learning you appeared at the magistrate’s office?!”

He was looking for me?

He had been looking for me all along?

Such shocking words made me almost forget to cry. I murmured, “Why did you still come looking for me? Don’t you hate me deeply, want to poison me, want to leave me?”

“Hate you? Xiao Qitang, tell me, how am I supposed to not hate you?” Song Langsheng’s eyes suddenly looked as if they’d been shattered by something. “Because of your father emperor, I lost my peaceful home in the capital. Because of your father emperor, my parents and the woman I loved died on the road while fleeing… I originally came to the capital step by step to serve as an official in order to clear my parents’ names, but you kept appearing before me, constantly reminding me that you are my enemy’s daughter. How could I not hate you?”

Though this was something I had always known, hearing it from his mouth felt like knives carving my heart.

His face was deathly pale, the hand gripping me bleeding continuously and trembling non-stop. “I clearly had countless ways to refuse your coercion, yet I still became this prince consort; I clearly could have used this position to do many things, yet for fear of implicating you, I did nothing; I originally only wanted to wait for the right opportunity to investigate the truth before revealing everything to you and leaving…”

“But the truth was that my father did indeed plot rebellion, the truth was that your father emperor’s punishment according to law was beyond reproach. What was I supposed to do then?” His eyes were like the moon, displaying unmistakable sorrow. “Just when you were preparing my birthday celebration, the Crown Prince summoned me to the palace. He threw my entire past before me and gave me a non-lethal amnesia powder, ordering me to sever ties with you within half a month so as not to bring disaster upon you…”

“But I couldn’t do it.” Song Langsheng lowered his eyelids. “Even though there was no smoother method than making you lose your memory, I still couldn’t do it. Have you ever considered that with my martial arts skills, how could I not hear your footsteps? If I truly wanted to poison you, how could I let you catch me in the act?”

My mind went completely blank: “Then… why?”

“Because…” he said extremely slowly, “if even you forgot me, then Song Langsheng would cease to exist in this world.”

His words, his eyes, in this instant were like an invisible hand clutching my heart.

“Xiao Qitang, you always say you love me, yet you fled thousands of miles away to avoid me. No matter how coldly I treated you, no matter how I ignored you, did I ever—ever leave your side even once?” His voice was very, very hoarse, so hoarse it was almost at the breaking point. “I was always looking for you, always, always, until I saw that sky lantern, that nighttime rainbow…”

The last string in the depths of my heart snapped, and I stared at him dumbfounded.

Song Langsheng, such a reserved person, could actually say so many words at once—more than the sky lanterns above his head, more than all the words he’d spoken combined since our marriage.

All things I had never known, words I had never dared imagine.

If only…

If only… I was about to die…

I struggled to take a few breaths, trying to keep my tears from falling so urgently, my voice from shaking so much, “…Prince Consort, if you keep talking, I really won’t be able to bear dying…”

Like a searing brand, I saw his bloodshot eyes gradually become moist, slowly turning into waves, dripping into my eyes and sliding down with my tears: “Then let’s die together.”

Let’s die together.

Five words, resounding and unquestionable.

The next instant, my lips were heavily blocked by something soft and moist.

My eyes flew wide open.

Was he… kissing me?

This fool—didn’t he know that being infected with plague really would mean death?

The taste of tears, domineering occupation, the churning of lips and tongues, the flavor of despair—in this moment they raised wave after wave of terrifying surges, sweeping toward me. I wanted to push him away, I was trying my best to push him away, but how could I possibly push him away? How could I push him away!

That day was the seventh day of the seventh month, the Qiqiao Festival. That day Chen Village erupted in roaring flames. That day sky lanterns filled the heavens.

That was Princess Xiangyi’s first kiss with her most beloved prince consort, and surprisingly, he was the one who initiated it.

She thought that even if she forgot the whole world, she would never forget that kiss.

But at that time, she was still too naive.

She didn’t know that not far from them, another man had found that rainbow sky lantern and was madly searching the entire burning village for her. She didn’t know that this man had picked up the bamboo flute he had given her from the burned ruins, pursued them through the fire and smoke to outside the village, and personally witnessed the scene of her kissing her husband.

She didn’t know that three months later, she would forget that kiss, would forget that person who was more important to her than her own life, and would fall in love with another man.

She would never know that as fate’s wheel turned, two years later on this day, having lost all memory, she would fall into a trap, and that person would once again descend like salvation from heaven, making her remember so many, so many precious memories.

So she stood on tiptoe, using all her strength to kiss him.

So when the two kisses overlapped, she said to herself:

This person before me—through heaven and earth, absolutely, absolutely will never be separated again.