I remained unconscious for two days straight. When I awoke, I still couldn’t see Song Langsheng.

The men dispatched from the manor had pursued along the major and minor roads outside the capital for several days, all returning empty-handed.

He had vanished like thin air, without any news.

Initially I held some hope, but the longer I waited in vain, the more disheartened I became. When the Crown Prince came, I spoke incoherently, urging him to return to the palace to handle state affairs. When he wanted to show more concern, I turned over and covered myself with the quilt, letting tears bury themselves in the cotton padding.

Everyone thought I had fallen ill from worry over not seeing the Prince Consort. Only Zhou Wenyu, who knew the truth, performed acupuncture daily and saw my vacant expression, unable to find words of comfort, only accompanying me with long sighs.

News of my persistent critical condition spread like wildfire, shocking the court—though whether it was shock or excitement was unclear. Officials coming to the Princess Manor to inquire about my illness formed an endless stream.

Liu Bo barred them all at the gates.

The court officials’ suspicions deepened—what illness had the Regent Princess contracted that left the imperial physicians helpless? Where had Grand Court of Review Minister Prince Consort Song gone that he remained absent? With the Emperor still unconscious, could the Crown Prince alone shoulder the nation’s burden in the long term?

Certain restless and uneasy atmospheres spread from the court to the common folk, causing rumors to fly and people’s hearts to flutter with anxiety.

Of course, all this was told to me by A’Zuo and A’You.

Since that night, I had lain on the bed like a living corpse. With death approaching, what heart did I have left to care about court affairs or not?

I only wished I could die from the poison immediately, so my ears wouldn’t have to hear these vexing matters.

Unfortunately, my shadow guard A’Zuo was a chatterbox. Seeing me lying on the bed in sullen silence, whenever he had time he would eloquently describe the situation outside the manor—from great court intrigues to neighborhood gossip, every detail vivid and comprehensive.

When he interrupted my dark brooding and longing for my husband for the seventy-eighth time, he finally succeeded in making me speak.

“I told you to monitor Cai Mi. Are you treating my words like wind past your ears?”

A’Zuo, hanging upside down outside the window, poked his head in bewildered: “Prin, Princess… are you finally not going to remain so dejected…?”

I closed my eyes: “I’m counting to three…”

A’Zuo very obediently disappeared.

I turned over to lie on my stomach, rolled up my sleeves to glance at the blue-purple meridians, and weakly scratched my head.

A’You emerged from the shadows by the side door, carefully watching my expression, opening her mouth but not saying a word for a long time.

I slowly glanced at her with the corner of my eye: “That night, what Zhou Wenyu said to me—A’Zuo didn’t hear it, but you heard everything, didn’t you?”

A’You’s eyes trembled slightly, as if about to wring out water. I gave her a sideways look: “You’ve been looking at me with that mourning face these past two days. Don’t think I can’t tell.”

A’You was stunned: “Princess, these past few days you’ve been…”

I sighed and groaned for a while, then slowly climbed down from the bed and walked to the window sill: “A’You, how long have you been in the Mirror Bureau?”

A’You hadn’t expected me to suddenly ask this. After a moment of surprise, she answered efficiently: “This subordinate entered the Bureau at age seven. It’s been thirteen years now.”

“Thirteen years…” I said slowly: “For a woman, the most beautiful years wasted here. Have you ever regretted it?”

A’You raised her eyes to look at me: “A’You has been an orphan since childhood. If the Mirror Bureau hadn’t taken me in, how could I have survived until now? Since A’You chose this path herself, how can there be talk of regret?”

I smiled slightly, seeing the pink and white flowers blooming brilliantly in the courtyard, especially those crabapple blossoms with their intense stamens: “If you were poisoned with a strange toxin and had little time left, but saw me in difficulty, would you still protect me?”

A’You said resolutely: “As long as A’You has one breath left, she will do her utmost to protect Your Highness’s safety.”

The breeze stirred my skirt hem. I looked at her: “So A’You, if even you can do it, how could I not? Waiting for death out of fear of death is the world’s greatest folly.”

A confused expression appeared on her face, but she seemed to understand my meaning: “Could it be… that Your Highness’s dejection these past days was all an act?”

I shook my head: “Not entirely.”

That night with tears soaking my clothes, I lay in bed trying to sleep. In my dreams I thought, and upon waking I thought more, but no matter how much I pondered, I couldn’t understand why the clusters of flowers outside were still blooming brilliantly while I was withering away.

Clearly I had finally remembered that Song Langsheng was Big Brother. Clearly our reunion was within reach…

Yet after Cai Mi appeared, everything began to become uncertain.

Though she seemed only to be recuperating in the manor without making any moves, if she truly did nothing, how did I come to this state?

Staying put… could it be that she only appeared to be still?

Father Emperor once said that if you cannot analyze where the enemy will strike, then imagine what would happen if the enemy didn’t exist.

That day I was about to tell Song Langsheng clearly that I was Little Sister… If I had explained everything, many suspicions could have dissipated, and afterward why would so much have become unspeakable?

Cai Mi’s sudden appearance made me fear Song Langsheng wouldn’t trust me, so I wanted to find that Crabapple Heart Record. But discovering that letter from Father Emperor beside the record made me abandon my plan to confess.

I feared Song Langsheng would misunderstand, so I kept all secrets to myself, waiting to investigate everything clearly before making long-term plans.

But Xiao Qitang, how could you forget that the bright yellow envelope was so conspicuous—if you were going to notice it, you should have noticed it long ago. How could it have appeared at exactly that moment?

I gritted my teeth, immediately feeling cold sweat beading all over.

Scheming against people’s hearts—the person behind Cai Mi knew everything about me, including my methods, like the back of their hand.

For days now news of the Princess’s grave illness had caused an uproar throughout the city. If Song Langsheng knew even a little, he couldn’t possibly remain so indifferent. Since he hadn’t returned to find me, either he couldn’t come back or he was in dangerous circumstances where he couldn’t learn of outside events.

Thinking of this, I couldn’t help turning back to ask A’You: “Today is already the twenty-seventh of the twelfth month?”

A’You nodded.

“These past days, has Wu Pingting come looking for me?”

A’You nodded again: “Steward Liu saw the Princess was ill and didn’t report it.”

I hugged my knees and circled half the room, pondering: “I’ll have Liu Bo send someone to invite her to the Princess Manor. Before that… A’You, help me confirm something first.”

The sky was clear as a wash. In the lakeside pavilion, bamboo curtains were half-rolled, warming braziers burned charcoal and incense—a wonderful mortal realm.

Wu Pingting sat beside the stone table in a peach-colored shirt that made her lovelier than flowers. I leisurely stirred my tea lid: “This is Taihu Biluochun. Miss Wu needn’t be formal.”

She raised her sleeve and drained her cup. After setting it down, she said: “Recently there have been rumors in the capital that the Princess suffers from a strange illness. I originally thought…” She paused: “I wonder what Your Highness’s intention is in openly inviting me to the manor today?”

I didn’t answer her immediately: “Do you remember what day today is?”

Upon hearing this, a flash of hatred immediately appeared in Wu Pingting’s eyes: “This commoner woman will never forget until death.”

Seven years ago today, the twenty-seventh of the twelfth month, the escort agency massacre case shocked the imperial city—it was the day Wu Pingting lost her loved ones.

I sighed: “Inviting you to the manor to speak at length under countless watching eyes is for no other reason than to draw out your enemy.”

Wu Pingting was puzzled: “Didn’t the Princess say this Feng Li is sinister and cunning, that ordinary enemy-luring would be difficult to make him take the bait?”

I sipped some tea to moisten my throat: “We originally underestimated him… In any case, now, let alone luring enemies, he probably sees our every move…”

Wu Pingting looked around alertly: “This—”

“Since what Feng Li most wants to know is Jun Jinzhi’s secret, why not use this as bait?”

Wu Pingting was shocked: “What does the Princess mean?”

“If you go to the secret place your father told you about before dying, Feng Li will naturally appear. At that time, my people will assist you in capturing him.”

Wu Pingting suddenly stood up: “The secret my father preferred death to revealing—how could I easily tell it to others?”

I rested my chin on my hand: “Your father didn’t speak because he understood that speaking would still mean death, while not speaking might preserve you… Moreover, this secret originally belonged to Jun Jinzhi and was meant for his son. After all these years, do you know whether Jun Jinzhi’s son is alive or dead, where he might be?”

I would never tell you he is the current Prince Consort. In any case, Song Langsheng had already married me, so even if I knew the secret, it wouldn’t count as falling into outsiders’ hands.

Wu Pingting thought for a moment and looked at me suspiciously: “How do I know whether Your Highness has other ulterior motives, scheming like Feng Li to get me to reveal this secret location?”

I sighed helplessly: “Would Miss Wu rather not avenge your father and brothers than protect a stranger’s secret?”

Seeing her bite her teeth without answering, I simply stopped playing riddles: “If you won’t speak, that’s fine… I only wanted to remind you that besides myself, you might not find a second person in this world who can contend with Feng Li… If you go alone to the meeting, that would truly fulfill Feng Li’s wishes and disappoint your father’s spirit.”

Her body stiffened imperceptibly. After a moment she said: “If he can see everything, even with an ambush laid, how would he take the bait?”

I suddenly smiled: “He will.”

“How can you be certain?”

“That he could monitor you in secret for seven years without moving shows how important this secret location is to him. Now that you’re finally making a move, and I want to reap the benefits, how could he easily give up?” I said: “Not to mention an ambush—even if it were a net of heaven and earth, he would find ways to break through.”

Wu Pingting clenched her fists and nodded, her expression unpredictable, seemingly struggling yet wanting to compromise. I played boredly with the white porcelain tea bowl until I heard her say: “This commoner woman has one condition…”

I paused my hand movements and looked up at her. She didn’t avoid my gaze: “If Your Highness can accompany this commoner woman to the secret location to face Feng Li together, I will tell Your Highness where the secret place is.”

I rubbed my eyebrows quite melancholically.

She’s just afraid I’ll cross the bridge and burn it behind me, then turn around and bite back, right?

If she wants to tie me up as a hostage, just say so directly… In my current kidney-deficient and weak state, how could I face that pineapple together?

I smiled without warmth: “Thank you for the trust. Pleasant cooperation.”

The western horizon was already dyed with sunset clouds. As soon as Wu Pingting left, A’You emerged from the shadows: “Reporting to the Princess, everything is as the Princess predicted. What should we do next?”

I said: “Wu Pingting has revealed the secret location—it’s on Green Qilin Ridge.”

A’You was startled: “Green Qilin Mountain? Isn’t that the continuous Myriad Graves Hill beside Spirit Mountain?”

I nodded: “I’ve already promised Wu Pingting to go with her, tonight.”

A’You was horrified: “This… absolutely not! Your Highness has a body worth thousands of gold—how can you personally enter dangerous territory?”

I spread my hands and sighed: “But Miss Wu said if I don’t accompany her, she’ll be afraid, and when she’s afraid she might not remember which burial mound contains the secret location.”

“Your Highness, that Wu Pingting is absolutely untrustworthy!”

I smiled: “After following me so long, don’t you know I’m prophetic?”

“Even if what she says is true, given the Princess’s current physical condition…”

“I have my own considerations.” I cut off her words: “Quickly go find Director Tao and command the Mirror Bureau’s thirty-eight shadow guards to coordinate in completing this operation.”

A’You seemed unwilling to accept the order, saying softly: “If you want all thirty-eight shadow guards deployed, Director Tao might not…”

I took out the Mirror Bureau’s token from my sleeve and handed it to her: “Take this and tell him this is the last order I give as master of the Mirror Bureau.”

A’You kept her head down and didn’t take it, asking with trembling shoulders: “Why choose the Mirror Bureau’s shadow guards to protect Your Highness… Your Highness could easily mobilize the capital garrison to heavily surround Green Qilin Mountain. That way, no matter how capable that thief is, he couldn’t harm Your Highness in the slightest…”

I touched my nose and hinted: “Do you know who the thief is?”

A’You was stunned, not understanding the situation: “A’You doesn’t know…”

I said: “Since you don’t know who the enemy is, anyone could be the enemy.”

Indeed, since I held military command, I could tell Crown Prince brother and have the Regional Military Commission issue orders, ensuring this trip would be safe.

But that pineapple from years ago could freely enter and exit the Ministry of Justice and deploy troops to pursue Jun Jinzhi’s group—he clearly held a position in court and his power shouldn’t be underestimated.

If I rashly deployed military ambushes and prematurely revealed the secret location, allowing the pineapple to get there first, my strategy would be difficult to implement.

I think the pineapple should have anticipated this too, so no matter how I deployed forces, he was confident I wouldn’t dare mobilize large armies, and would naturally let down his guard to attack me directly.

And what I was waiting for was exactly this direct confrontation.

A’You asked again: “Then why must it be tonight… If we’re setting an ambush, let this subordinate first scout Myriad Graves Hill’s terrain for more thorough deployment…”

This time, I didn’t answer A’You’s question.

I just managed a smile: “A shadow guard asking so many questions is already overstepping bounds. A’You, follow orders.”

After returning to my sleeping quarters, I summoned Liu Bo to have the kitchen prepare food. These past days he’d seen me unable to swallow food and must have been frightened, so before I finished speaking, he was in tears saying “This old servant will not fail the mission…” then disappeared with a whoosh.

So when I moved to the side hall and saw three full tables of delicious dishes from all over, I immediately foresaw that I might be stuffed to death before even meeting the pineapple.

Fortunately I retained some rationality and only ate half a bowl of rice, half a drunken chicken, half a roasted duck, and two clear-wind salamander fish before stopping in time.

Then my stomach was so bloated I couldn’t even drink the medicine Imperial Physician Zhou prescribed, so I had to secretly take it back to my room to water the flowers.

With great enemies approaching, one truly cannot be tempted by delicious food.

Back when Xu Fang first became Nie Ran, I had walked into a dead end precisely because I spent all our silver on food. How was I repeating the same mistake?

Thinking of this, my brush-holding hand couldn’t help trembling. Though I had rich experience and practical knowledge in facing death, I never knew writing a will would be so difficult. After half an hour I still hadn’t finished explaining what I wanted to entrust to Crown Prince brother, finally ending hastily with “Sister’s voice and smile will often linger for three days—don’t think, don’t fear,” only hoping Crown Prince brother would patiently read to the end.

If I had known this day would come, when I studied essay writing with Wei Qingheng, I should have asked more about will formats, so I wouldn’t be at a loss about how to begin even a letter to my husband.

I didn’t know whether I should explain the whole story. If I said nothing and just departed this world, it was hard to imagine whether he would regret it for life. But if I told him I walked this desperate path to eliminate Feng Li, would he guess my true intention?

I sat at the desk, feeling the vastness of life’s impermanence, unable to put brush to paper for a long time.

At the end of the hai hour, A’You returned as scheduled.

She reported that the thirty-eight shadow guards were ready, with ten having already scouted the terrain in advance. Including her and A’Zuo, at least thirty people would be hidden in different positions to protect me, taking protecting me as their sole duty regardless of any emergencies.

As soon as she finished, A’Zuo jumped in through the window: “This subordinate has followed the Princess’s orders and tied up that Cai Mi with ropes, confining her in the manor’s dungeon.”

I glanced at him and said profoundly: “Good. Tonight with all the Mirror Bureau’s shadow guards protecting me, you needn’t be too nervous either.”

I turned my back to them and pushed open the wooden window of this manor’s pavilion.

The capital gradually extinguished its lights as night fell, and through the deep darkness the floating and sinking couldn’t be seen clearly.

Rarely was the night sky clear, with starlight sprinkling on the bluestone road, adding several points of quiet elegance.

But looking ahead, a long row of bright lanterns hung in mid-air—those lanterns, those lanterns Song Langsheng said he gazed at when I was missing. At this moment they made my heart inexplicably constrict.

When I looked back, the red light fell into my eyes, and emerging memories gradually became clear—

Two years ago on that morning, I woke early and mobilized great forces to supervise the Ministry of Rites hanging thousands of lanterns in designated streets and alleys throughout the capital.

That day was Song Langsheng’s birthday.

I had painted for him, built a magnificent opera stage at Jade Dragon Manor, and decorated the entire capital for him.

But I remember my mood then wasn’t joyful.

Not long before, he seemed to have some conflict with Father Emperor and suddenly grew distant from me, even moving out of the Princess Manor to live in the Grand Court of Review for half a month without returning. No matter how hurt and heartbroken I became, he remained unmoved, treating me like floating clouds—his coldness even exceeded that of our early marriage.

I couldn’t understand his reason for being cold to me.

From the day we escaped the fire in Chen Family Village, our hearts’ knots were resolved, and we wished we could be together constantly. How could that period’s passionate love vanish overnight?

Unfortunately, at that time my mind was entirely focused on investigating Marquis Xia Yang and Qinggu and others. By the time I realized something was wrong, I could no longer determine where the problem’s root lay.

I tossed and turned sleeplessly, bewildered about solutions.

Until I opened the Crabapple Heart Record and saw that palm-sized paper maple, I suddenly recalled that year when I was thirteen on Spirit Mountain. Watching the red maples gradually turn yellow, I said sentimentally: “Flowers don’t stay red for a hundred days, people don’t stay good for a thousand days.”

Rarely did Big Brother, who was accompanying me then, not mockingly retort that maples were leaves, not flowers.

Just before returning to the palace, he pulled me over, opened my palm, and placed a lifelike paper maple on it.

He said: “There are always hearts that turn a hundred times but never retreat. Flowers are like this, and so are people.”

Such words of love were hard to resist. I couldn’t suppress the emotion in my heart for a long time before finally saying: “This is the first gift you’ve given me.”

He hummed, “Consider it a betrothal gift.”

I looked up in surprise. He turned around nonchalantly, but his ears were completely red.

The setting sun lengthened his silhouette. I gazed for a long time and said softly: “Someday, I’ll give you back the biggest, brightest red maple in all the capital.”

That was a youthful promise. The maple was still that maple, the person still that person, but after a hundred turns, emotions could no longer return to their initial purity.

I resolved to give him that gift many years late as his birthday present.

That day, I had his colleagues at the Grand Court of Review deliver my invitation.

I wanted to let him see the world’s most beautiful maple at the place where we first met, and speak the feelings I’d hidden in my heart for years.

I waited and waited on Spirit Mountain until sunset, finally seeing that familiar red figure on the winding mountain path in the distance.

He hadn’t even had time to remove his official robes before hurrying here for our appointment—this showed he still had me in his heart.

I lit the fireworks in my hand. When colorful flames bloomed in the night sky, lanterns throughout the capital below lit up simultaneously.

The fiery red lantern light formed twinkling lines like waterfall streams pouring down. From here it looked exactly like a giant maple leaf, and instantly heaven and earth were crimson.

At that moment, somehow I felt like I’d returned to youth in an instant. Touching my pounding heart, I turned around at a loss, my back to him.

I waited until footsteps approached and stopped within arm’s reach.

I gazed at the lantern light under the night curtain: “I knew you would come.”

He didn’t speak. I thought he might be annoyed that I had inexplicably called him here, so I said: “Today is the Prince Consort’s birthday. I imagine everyone is waiting below in the manor to celebrate. I couldn’t say some things in front of so many people, so I…” I paused and looked up: “wanted to be alone with you here for a while.”

He still said nothing. I said softly: “I haven’t seen you for some time. I seem to not even know how to talk to you anymore. In the future… will you and I become as distant as strangers?… I’m truly unwilling to accept this. I’ve liked you for so long, longer than you imagine.”

“Do you know where you and I first met?” I looked up: “It was right here…”

The person behind me moved slightly. I gripped my clothes corner and said in one breath: “…These past events, I wouldn’t normally mention. Though I occasionally hope you’d remember me, after all these years have passed, I fear that even if you heard, you might not be willing to stay for me. I fear you never cared at all, and then those past times I treasure most would become empty…”

“Originally… after you and I parted, I met another person and nearly wavered…”

“But when you and I reunited in Chen Family Village, you risked your life to save me. You didn’t even remember I was that girl from years ago, yet you could still say those words to me…” I brushed away tears with my fingertips: “At that moment, I truly thought that as long as I could survive, even if Father Emperor opposed it, even if the whole world condemned it, even if I had to abandon this princess identity, I would spare no effort…”

I stopped and took a deep breath: “…I once said that someday I would give you back the biggest, brightest red maple in all the capital…”

“Looking at this scene right now, can’t you still remember who I am?”

That resounding question—even if he were slow, he should be able to guess I was Little Sister, right?

If only the person listening to these words behind me had truly been Song Langsheng.

But when I turned around, I saw someone else.

Xu Fang.

It was Xu Fang, who hadn’t yet remembered he was the heir of Marquis Xia Yang.

I stared with mouth agape: “You’re Xu, Xu Fang? How, how could it be you?”

He wore elegant purple robes, no longer appearing as he had in Chen Family Village. At this moment he stared at me but didn’t respond. I didn’t understand—I had clearly seen Song Langsheng in official robes, so how had he become a different person with one turn of my head?

I was frantic, about to go around him to find the person, when I heard Xu Fang say coolly: “He left.”

I stopped.

Xu Fang slowly turned his eyes: “While you were speaking, he was listening by the tree behind us, but he left halfway through.”

I looked at Xu Fang in disbelief.

If Song Langsheng had truly left without hearing everything, it could only mean he thought my words were meant for someone else.

I asked with a trembling voice: “You knew I wasn’t talking to you. Why didn’t you interrupt me?”

Under the brilliant moonlight, Xu Fang’s handsome face was ice-cold.

Was this person still the Xu Fang who had saved me in Chen Family Village?

I was dazed for a moment: “Why did you come to the capital, why are you here… Did you, did you deliberately make the Prince Consort misunderstand?”

He still didn’t answer me. Though I had doubts, thinking that Song Langsheng might have left in anger due to misunderstanding, I couldn’t care about asking more questions and just headed straight away, wanting to catch up with the Prince Consort.

But Xu Fang grabbed me. I thought I understood his reason for this and softened: “Xu Fang, I thought you would support me in pursuing what I want.”

His dark pupils rippled with flowing light: “You said that being good to someone isn’t indulging their heart or their thoughts.”

I said in shock: “So letting people who love each other separate due to misunderstanding is your way of being good to someone?”

“But he, his feelings for you aren’t genuine!”

I said angrily: “You’re just an outsider with no memory. What right do you have to say such things?”

“He actually—” Xu Fang hesitated: “In any case, he won’t do. You can’t be with him… Now, now you must stay by my side and can’t chase him, otherwise, otherwise…”

Seeing his incoherent and confused thoughts, I said: “Though I don’t know your intentions, you did save me, so I won’t blame you. Let us… part ways here.”

“Just now!” Xu Fang raised his voice: “You said you met someone who nearly made you waver. Was that… me?”

My heart skipped a beat as I looked straight at him.

Those words were originally meant to make the Prince Consort jealous, but unexpectedly Xu Fang heard them.

Now I didn’t know how to begin explaining.

Under the dark sky with the lone moon bright, he lowered his eyes and asked: “That day, if I had saved you before him, would you have wavered for me?”

Somehow, seeing his expression made my heart feel heavy as if I’d swallowed gold.

Indeed, he seemed to have asked me similar questions more than once when we were in the village.

Unfortunately, the answer had never changed.

“This is the last time I’ll answer.” I struggled free from Xu Fang’s hand: “In this world, there are no ‘what ifs.'”

Xu Fang’s voice echoed hollowly in the howling night wind: “Is that so?”

The memories grew blurred again. The more I tried to think, the worse my splitting headache became. I supported myself against the window frame with both hands, eyes closed, trying to grasp more fragments of what happened afterward—

In dim light… I seemed to have been imprisoned in a dark room, hands bound, someone approaching step by step, pinching my chin and forcing a pill into my mouth… But who was that person? Why couldn’t I remember their appearance no matter what?

And after that? Alone… running for my life on mountain paths, a group of masked assassins in relentless pursuit, forcing me to a cliff’s edge where I retreated step by step before leaping—

The weightless falling sensation was my last memory.

Then came overwhelming darkness that I couldn’t recall beyond.

Dull pain from my heart spread through my limbs. My feet gave way and I collapsed to the ground, as if falling into an abyss.

A’Zuo quickly helped me up: “Is Your Highness unwell somewhere? This subordinate will immediately summon Imperial Physician Zhou…”

I raised my hand to stop him: “No need…”

“Your Highness!” A’You was clearly anxious: “Why not cancel tonight’s mission…”

My heart was sorrowful, but I smiled: “They’ve schemed so painstakingly and laid such a good game of chess. How could I not accompany them to the end?”

A’You didn’t understand: “They?”

There’s something I’ve always felt was wrong but could never pinpoint what.

I disappeared on the Prince Consort’s birthday two years ago. His birthday fell during the twelfth month’s plum blossom season. Someone personally witnessed me falling from Spirit Mountain’s cliff, but the body at the bottom wasn’t mine.

Afterward, because I was poisoned with Forgetfulness Powder, I lost my memory anew each day. My earliest impression was being found by Xu Fang as He Feng in Chen Family Village.

That was during the third month’s peach blossom season—exactly two months later.

The journey from Chen Family Village to the capital, if traveling day and night by the nearest water route, would take exactly two months.

But according to previous assumptions, if I had wandered to Chen Family Village after losing my memory, it would have taken far more than two months.

Then only one possibility remained.

After I lost my memory, someone traveled day and night to take me away from the capital and live under false names in Chen Family Village.

And that person could only be him.

Xu Fang, who had appeared suddenly on Spirit Mountain that night.

——(End of Chapter)

Author’s Note:

Sorry everyone. I originally planned to update on New Year’s Eve, but no matter how I wrote this chapter, after several rewrites I was still unsatisfied.

I had set up too many mysteries before and too much to explain. No matter how hard I tried to speed up the plot, I couldn’t let everyone see the Prince Consort in this chapter.

While writing this Yi Shou Zhe Tian Yi Shou Chui Di – Chapter I had too many emotions even I couldn’t grasp—the Princess’s mood, the Princess’s feelings, the back-and-forth interlacing of memories. I don’t know if everyone will find it confusing.

Although I very much hope to find my cheerful writing style again and lighten things up, under this kind of plot I really seem unable to make the Princess laugh and smile. I don’t know if everyone will find it very dull.

But regardless, I can’t keep stalling and must continue writing.