Early in the morning, when the sky was still gray and hazy, shouts and calls could be heard from the back courtyard. The sounds rose and fell with breathing—needless to say, someone was training their strength.

In the cool autumn morning, Yan Ting put on her outer clothing and slowly moved her feet out from the warm bedding. The moment her toes touched the icy floor, her whole body felt cold. She put on silk stockings and did some light grooming before pushing open the window to look out at the courtyard.

The morning was misty, and everything looked gray-blue, but the figure in the courtyard was truly robust. Those solid, magnificent muscles moved with such weight in every action. Even in the dim light with everything hazy and unclear, this person remained so substantial.

Substantial, simple, honest, and old-fashioned—this square and upright but tongue-tied feeling was just like the neighbor uncle who carried loads when she was small, or like an old escort who had rolled around in the martial world for ten years. Nothing could be more ordinary.

This serious, helpful old man would be her future husband?

“You’re awake?” The tall figure turned around, his square face bearing a smile. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Yan Ting slowly walked into the courtyard and looked up at this man who was nearly twenty years older than herself, nodding.

Wu Dingyuan laughed heartily and put on his iron gloves, gesturing for Yan Ting to come over. Yan Ting smiled slightly and gently rested against Wu Dingyuan’s broad chest, letting his calloused large hands encircle her slender waist.

In this chaotic world, she dared not hope for any surprises, nor did she dare expect a vigorous, unforgettable lover. She would just live an ordinary life like this.

Dry lips kissed her powdered cheek, the stubble pricking somewhat painfully.

“Auntie, I… can I go home?” Wu Dingyuan had gone to the Commissioner’s Office. According to his wishes, Chong Qing was to be sent early to learn reading and writing. Wu Dingyuan wholeheartedly hoped his adopted son would be accomplished in both literature and martial arts and rise above others in the future.

Poor Chong Qing pulled her hand, looking mournful, refusing to leave by half a step, leaving Yan Ting at a loss.

Seeing the private tutor already waiting at the door, Yan Ting sighed and crouched down to gaze at the ten-year-old boy before her, saying gently: “Chong Qing, be good. When auntie was your age, she had lost her parents and lived alone for many years. If auntie, a mere girl, wasn’t afraid, how can Chong Qing, a man among men, be so timid?”

Hearing these words, Chong Qing felt somewhat ashamed. Yan Ting pinched his cheek: “Go quickly, don’t let people look down on you and shame your father.”

Chong Qing lowered his head and said quietly: “I’m sorry, I’ll go in now.”

Seeing his pitiful appearance, Yan Ting couldn’t help feeling compassion. She held the little boy in her arms, kissed his cheek as a reward, then took his hand and delivered him to the private tutor.

The morning light shone warmly on her body. Yan Ting walked alone through the capital. Wu Dingyuan was busy with official duties and had no time to accompany her, and Chong Qing had gone to study, so she could only stroll the streets alone.

In the eighth month, leaves rustled along the way. All the shops had opened for business. Yan Ting stopped to look and saw many rare and precious ornaments that pleased her eyes. Although she had some silver in her purse, it was given by Wu Dingyuan after all. Until she officially became the mistress of the Wu household, her status was uncertain and it wasn’t convenient to spend. Thinking of this, there was nothing worth looking at, so she turned and left.

Unknowingly, she had walked to the outer city. The Yongding River’s great waters lay before her. Being at the foot of the Son of Heaven, there were no fishing boats or fishermen’s families by the riverbank, nor could one smell fish or decay. The river’s heart reflected autumn light, while silver ginkgo and white birch trees along the shore lifted one’s spirits.

Yan Ting smiled as she looked at a riverside tavern. With such beautiful scenery before her, she naturally wanted to stop and enjoy it. Although she was alone and lacked company for conversation, it was still better than wandering aimlessly in the city. She immediately entered the tavern and chose a table to sit at.

The waiter was somewhat stunned to see her come alone. In those days, women going out were usually accompanied by men, and if young ladies from wealthy families went out alone, they would certainly have maids and servants with them. The shopkeeper didn’t know how to serve her and was somewhat flustered.

Yan Ting had encountered such situations before during her wanderings in the martial world. She immediately took out some silver and placed it in the waiter’s hand, saying gently: “Please bring two sets of bowls and chopsticks. My elder brother works in the city and arranged to meet me by the river. He’ll be here shortly.”

Hearing this, the waiter quickly agreed and went to arrange tea and snacks. It was still before noon, and the shop was sparsely populated with few customers. Yan Ting’s table was on the second floor with an excellent view. She poured herself a cup of hot tea and sipped it lightly.

At this time, Yan Ting wore a light red silk dress. Being in the capital, she didn’t carry a sword at her waist. At first glance, she looked like a fine daughter from a wealthy family—beautiful, elegant, and charming, full of gentle grace. The gazes from other customers in the shop showed both admiration and appreciation, which secretly pleased Yan Ting.

Her master had gone far to Nu Cang Mountain, Dingyuan had paid respects to her junior sister on the battlefield, her whereabouts were unknown but Dingyuan had sent people to search—this Captain Wu was always worldly and thoughtful, never willing to let her suffer even a little hardship, treating her like a precious princess. For this reason, although she had lost the martial world, she still had a home, her mood was never anxious, and these plain days, though boring, were very stable.

Yan Ting raised her cup to drink and looked out the window. The sky was azure blue, with fishing boats dotting the river surface—quite intoxicating. Just as she was admiring the riverside scenery, suddenly her eyes blinked and a figure walked along the riverbank. That person wore a blue robe with straight posture, dignified bearing touched with elegance.

Seeing his appearance, Yan Ting’s slender hand holding the teacup couldn’t help trembling slightly. Her gaze closely followed that person’s figure, her heart beating rapidly.

That young master strolled along the shore, then stopped to gaze at the river scenery, standing motionless. After a while, he turned around, leaned against the railing with one hand on his hip and the other resting on the stone rail, tapping lightly. Looking at his handsome eyes gazing sideways with a slight smile, passersby of both genders gave him extra glances.

Yan Ting pressed her lips tightly together, staring at that handsome figure by the riverbank, her heart filled with both joy and excitement.

“Division Secretary Yang…” Since their acquaintance, she had never looked at him so carefully. From her distant position, she wasn’t afraid of being seen. Her large eyes didn’t blink, reluctant to look away for a moment.

He had been defeated, stripped of his official position—she had expected him to be dejected and despondent, begging for pity everywhere. But it wasn’t like that at all. He was still the confident Yang Suguan, like a rare jewel brilliant as stars, dreamlike and illusory.

So what if he was reduced to commoner status? A jewel removed from its setting was still a jewel—just as noble, just as dazzling, just as lovable…

Yan Ting’s heart beat rapidly. Thinking that Yang Suguan now had commoner status, a thought suddenly arose in her heart—she wanted to go downstairs and invite him up for hot tea. But the moment this thought emerged, it stopped abruptly.

Her feet couldn’t move. Despite her excellent lightness skills, she felt her knees were so heavy. What was holding her back? Was it Wu Dingyuan’s sincere heart, or little Chong Qing’s familial affection, or… or her own uncertain heart?

In her confusion, she suddenly saw Yang Suguan slowly leaving, his steps heading in her direction. Yan Ting’s heart beat rapidly again. Had he seen her? No, impossible—the distance between them was so great, and there were some pedestrians on the road. There was no reason for him to see her.

In her panic, Yang Suguan had already reached the area below her building. Yan Ting was afraid he would see her, so she hid behind the window, carefully watching downstairs. She saw Yang Suguan stop and look around, as if wanting to have tea but not knowing which shop to enter.

Yan Ting became more flustered. There were more than ten tea shops along the road—would he enter this one? As she thought, Yang Suguan came to the base of her tea shop and seemed about to come up.

Yan Ting dared not look anymore and lowered her head to gaze at the snacks before her. Her palms were sweaty—she both hoped Yang Suguan would come in and hoped he would pass by without entering, her heart completely uncertain.

If footsteps sounded on the stairs, that figure would come up and then meet her unexpectedly. At that moment, he would surely greet her graciously, perhaps even sit beside her to admire the scenery together. But… but how should she face him? Pretend to be very surprised? Or refuse to share a table with him? What should she do?

After a long time, the stairway remained silent as usual. Yan Ting bit her lip, her heart growing dim—Yang Suguan hadn’t come up. He had left.

Yan Ting knew in her heart that she and this man had passed each other by, just as they had for so many years—always passing by.

That was fine. Thinking of Wu Dingyuan’s feelings for her, shouldn’t it be this way? Yan Ting forced a smile at the corner of her mouth and reached for the teapot to pour water, but her hands involuntarily trembled, beyond her control.

She sipped her tea lightly. In her loneliness, she looked out the window again. Just then, the tea in her cup splashed out and she nearly cried out in surprise.

In the tea shop on the first floor across the way, diagonally opposite her window, there was a familiar figure talking with a shop assistant.

That was Yang Suguan!

Yan Ting was greatly delighted. Yang Suguan hadn’t gone far and hadn’t put her in a difficult position. He sat right before her eyes, letting her stare at him blankly. Though far apart, they were like neighbors—in this beautiful morning light, the two seemed to sit across from each other, enjoying the pleasant autumn scenery together.

The shop assistant brought tea. Yang Suguan had no guests—just himself sitting alone. He took out a book from his bosom and read with his head lowered. As noon approached, more customers gradually filled the upstairs area. Afraid that idle troublemakers might disturb her, Yan Ting rewarded the waiter with more silver and ordered additional tea and snacks.

That waiter was very understanding and immediately added two more sets of bowls and chopsticks, filling all four seats at the square table to prevent wandering rogues from coming to bother her and other customers from occupying the seats.

Cool breezes blew gently, neither hot nor cold. White clouds drifted leisurely across the sky. The young lady in the second-floor window and the leisurely, elegant gentleman in the first-floor tea shop below seemed to exist in a peaceful capital without any noise or evil hearts, like a scene from a painting.

Division Secretary Yang, will I see you again tomorrow?

When she returned home with Chong Qing, it was already evening. Seeing her face full of smiles, Chong Qing laughed: “Auntie, what are you happy about?”

Yan Ting seemed lost in thought and didn’t hear him. Chong Qing roughened his voice, imitating Wu Dingyuan’s manner, and roared: “Auntie!”

Yan Ting jumped in fright, patting her chest: “What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

Chong Qing said loudly: “Auntie, I said you seem very happy! Did you find some candy?”

Yan Ting said hurriedly: “No such thing… I’m fine.”

Chong Qing mumbled: “I didn’t say you weren’t fine.”

Returning home, servants came to attend them. The Commander’s mansion was fully staffed, so she needn’t worry about arranging dinner herself. She had expected Wu Dingyuan would surely return for dinner, but the steward came to report that he had gone with Marquis Liu to the capital garrison and would return late at night.

Hearing this news, the mother and son each sat at the table to eat, then played with Chong Qing for a while as usual before each returning to their rooms to sleep.

Strangely, it was a difficult night—tossing and turning, she just couldn’t sleep. Yan Ting looked at the tree shadows outside her window, her heart beating rapidly, as if she could still see that blue sky and sea-like riverbank, and looking down, could see that scholarly figure.

“He has no official position now and has been expelled by his father… why does he still look so composed and calm? Is he pretending? Is his heart actually very lonely and afraid, just like mine?”

No, he wouldn’t be lonely. He was capable at everything, confident in everything. Though the same age as herself, he could command those great martial world heroes. Wu Dingyuan listened to him, Ling Ding and Ling Zhen also listened to him. Even villains like Zhuo Lingzhao and Jiang Chong didn’t dare underestimate him. He always had this weight.

It was a very troubled night. Taking out the silk pouch her master had given her, for some reason tears fell pitter-patter, wetting her pillow.

Also on this night, Yan Ting began practicing swordwork again—the first time since leaving Jiuhua that she diligently trained. Even without her master supervising nearby, she was still as diligent and hardworking as that good girl of years past.

The next morning, the sky was still gray and hazy. The shouts from the back courtyard started again. Despite sleeping late into the night, this person still rose at dawn, so diligent it was like a rooster’s crow—even Zu Ti, who rose upon hearing roosters, would have to admit defeat.

As in the past month, Yan Ting rubbed her sleepy eyes after being awakened by Wu Dingyuan’s noise, then got up to dress. But somehow, when changing clothes today, she was particularly picky, as if nothing looked right. She dawdled for almost half an hour before walking to the courtyard.

“Hey-ho!” The fierce fist wind cut like a knife across her face. She saw the robust figure in the courtyard rolling and tumbling, iron elbows suddenly striking backward, straight punches constantly flying out. His square face looked fierce and domineering. Though it was just an ordinary inherited boxing method, his punches and kicks were incredibly fast with extraordinary momentum—far beyond the ordinary. Presumably with his current skills, even without removing his iron gloves, he could easily defeat first-class masters from various martial sects.

Suddenly hearing a roar, Wu Dingyuan’s toe swept out, flicking up a stone from the ground. He struck out with his palm—the stone clearly received frontal force but flew behind Wu Dingyuan. Suddenly his body spun around, standing on one finger while performing an inverted kick. His shoe bottom swept over the stone, which drew an arc in mid-air and instantly flew back to its original position without the slightest error.

Cool wind blew, and the stone turned to ash, suddenly scattering with the wind.

Yan Ting was so shocked she was stunned, covering her mouth in surprise. But no matter how strong this man’s martial arts or how fierce his expression, Yan Ting would never fear him. Because Yan Ting knew he was fond of her—no matter how fierce or cruel he was to enemies and bad people, before her he was very obedient and gentle.

Wu Dingyuan’s techniques became more refined with practice, his official position grew higher, but his sincere smile never changed. He slowly walked toward Yan Ting with a smile: “You’re up? Did you sleep peacefully last night?”

The same question as always, and Yan Ting nodded unchangingly, saying gently: “Brother Wu returned so late last night—it must have been hard work.”

Both spoke with faint smiles, quite politely.

Wu Dingyuan laughed: “In just a few days we’ll go to Juyong Pass. I’m just afraid the official documents will come early. Brother Lu is getting married on the fifteenth of the eighth month—if I can’t drink that celebratory wine, I’d feel terribly sorry.”

Hearing this, Yan Ting immediately exclaimed: “I completely forgot we’re leaving Beijing…”

Wu Dingyuan smiled: “Exactly! Yesterday the Marquis instructed us to prepare well…” Wu Dingyuan’s speech was like his character—solid and practical, with a slow Xiliang accent and deliberate word choice.

Yan Ting listened in confusion, not hearing a single word. Hearing she was going to Juyong Pass, her heart was only flustered, with no mind to listen to anything else.

Wu Dingyuan was speaking when suddenly a boy’s voice called: “Auntie changed into new clothes! So beautiful today!”

They looked back to see a small boy running from the back courtyard—it was his adopted son Chong Qing. He bounced and ran to Yan Ting’s side, taking her hand and spinning left and right as if examining her outfit.

Wu Dingyuan made a sound of recognition, only then noticing Yan Ting had changed into water-green silk with light rouge on her face—a completely new appearance. Wu Dingyuan, clumsy with words, didn’t know how to praise her and only made unclear sounds without comment.

Yan Ting giggled and pinched Chong Qing’s cheek: “You little clever ghost, you even know auntie is beautiful?”

Chong Qing laughed: “Of course I know! Yesterday when auntie took me to the private school, those children all shouted that our auntie was beautiful!”

Wu Dingyuan laughed heartily upon hearing this, and Yan Ting was also amused, her waist trembling lightly as her troubles were swept away.

At the Chen hour, Yan Ting sent Chong Qing to the private school again as she had the day before. Alone with nothing to do, reminiscing about yesterday’s encounter, her feet unconsciously headed toward the Yongding River bank again.

She walked along the river. Today the sky was gloomy with heavy fog over the water—quite different from yesterday’s sunshine. The grass was withered, trees bare with yellow leaves, looking particularly autumn-cold.

Yan Ting stopped and reached out to gently touch the railing, her heart filled with infinite emotion.

This was exactly where Yang Suguan had stood yesterday. When he stood quietly by the railing, what had he seen? Looking out, a great waterway crossed directly ahead—this was the Yongding River. On the other side, a small river converged laterally—this was the Golden Water River. At this place where two waters met, looking from afar, the Golden Water River was like a divine dragon opening its mouth to bite the Yongding River. It seemed to be a feng shui treasure land.

Yan Ting sighed. She turned to look toward a distant tavern—that was where she had sat yesterday. With the overcast sky and river mist, nothing could be seen clearly. Naturally, she couldn’t see yesterday’s figure either.

In a few days she would leave the capital. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she still hoped to see him once more to say goodbye.

Yan Ting lowered her head thinking of the past, slowly walking away as bits and pieces of bygone days floated before her eyes.

“Miss, you’ve come again?” She heard someone speaking. Yan Ting’s heart jumped in surprise. Looking up, she saw she had unknowingly come to yesterday’s tavern again.

She didn’t acknowledge the waiter and walked upstairs in a daze. The waiter had received generous silver tips yesterday and, seeing the goddess of wealth arrive, naturally laughed and followed cheerfully.

The shop had sparse customers, few as morning stars, no different from yesterday. Seeing the window table unoccupied, Yan Ting walked over and sat down.

The waiter smiled apologetically: “Miss, are you still waiting for your elder brother?”

Yan Ting looked out the window and hummed in response. The waiter saw her serious expression and bad temper, not knowing what he had said wrong, and quickly brought tea and snacks.

Gray and hazy, fog had risen outside the window, looking like it might rain. Yan Ting sipped hot tea while gazing at the empty table downstairs across the street, carefully recalling yesterday’s chance encounter, her heart alternately sweet and bitter, as if in a trance.

In the misty rain, it finally began to rain. The shop across the street hurried out to set up rain canopies, blocking everything from view.

Yan Ting sat glumly with no appetite for tea and snacks. She quickly called the waiter, paid the bill, and prepared to go downstairs and leave.

The waiter laughed dryly: “Miss, your brother still hasn’t come?”

The Jiuhua Mountain disciple’s temper flared, and Yan Ting naturally glared at him fiercely. The waiter’s heart jumped—being glared at by a beauty didn’t matter, but angering a source of gold was absolutely unacceptable. He quickly smiled: “This humble one was bored and talking nonsense—please don’t be angry, my lady.”

Yan Ting didn’t want to pay attention and walked down the stairs herself. Heavy rain was pouring outside, and she hadn’t brought an umbrella—this was somewhat troublesome.

Just as she was about to ask the waiter to buy her an umbrella, someone approached from outside the shop. Yan Ting inexplicably felt nervous as that figure stopped at the door, shook his umbrella, and then a big fat man walked in.

Yan Ting’s heart was full of loneliness as she turned away: “Waiter.”

Strangely, someone behind her called for the waiter before she could—could it be that fat man? But this voice was so elegant and refined. Don’t fat people all have voices like thunder? How could there be such a voice?

Yan Ting became nervous again. She looked back and saw a man entering the shop, shaking the oil-paper umbrella in his hand. He wore light green robes with white hemp on his shoulder, his five fingers holding the umbrella handle long, white, and jade-like.

Yan Ting let out a low cry and immediately stopped, her heart beating rapidly.

That young gentleman tidied his oil-paper umbrella and turned to enter the shop. His gaze swept over and immediately saw Yan Ting. He couldn’t help raising his eyebrows, not expecting to see her here.

Yan Ting was surprised, shy, happy, and afraid all at once. She wanted to turn her gaze away but was somewhat reluctant, just staring blankly at Yang Suguan. Despite the cold season, her face still flushed red.

The two faced each other without speaking when suddenly the waiter said: “Miss, the rain outside is heavy and you don’t have an umbrella. Why not buy this small one’s umbrella—it’s useful and practical, with excellent peony flower patterns, only one tael of silver, not expensive at all.”

Hearing such mood-killing nonsense, Yan Ting was naturally exasperated and about to scold him when she saw Yang Suguan approach with a smile, handing over his oil-paper umbrella without saying a word, then walking straight upstairs.

The waiter said unpleasantly: “An umbrella of unknown origin might be broken, or dirty and painful to touch…” As he spoke, his head was suddenly struck hard by the umbrella handle. The waiter jumped in fright and quickly waved his hands, not daring to speak anymore.

The rain grew heavier. Yan Ting held the oil-paper umbrella, looking at the pattering rain curtain outside. She stared blankly, then suddenly turned and flew upstairs.

Reaching the second floor, she saw the shop was gloomy with no other customers. Only one table by the window had a candle lit, where a handsome man sat gazing sideways out the window, holding hot tea in his hands. That table was the one she had just occupied.

“He… he saw me yesterday… otherwise… otherwise why would he sit here…” In the lamplight, Yang Suguan’s pale face appeared even more gentle. Yan Ting wanted to go speak with him but didn’t dare. She wanted to find a table to sit at, but the waiter had been beaten and was nowhere to be seen—truly very awkward.

After a while, Yang Suguan turned his head and smiled at Yan Ting, nodding slightly to her. Yan Ting bit her lip, not knowing what to say, when she saw Yang Suguan pull out a wooden chair. Looking closely, there were two sets of bowls and chopsticks on that table.

Yan Ting exclaimed but didn’t sit down, asking quietly: “Are you… are you waiting for someone?”

Yang Suguan nodded with a smile: “Yes. I’m waiting for you.”

Yan Ting stared at him intently. She saw Yang Suguan’s spirit unchanged, still composed as always, but there was a travel bag beside his table as if he were about to go on a long journey.

Thinking of Wu Dingyuan, Yan Ting knew she shouldn’t go over, but her thoughts turned to Yang Suguan’s pitiable circumstances. Her heart suddenly filled with compassion, and she immediately sat beside him.

Yang Suguan said blandly: “Are you used to living in the capital?”

Yan Ting hummed and said: “Master Wu treats me very well—I lack nothing.”

She felt somewhat restless, her heart in turmoil, and asked quietly: “What about you? What are your future plans?”

Hearing this question, Yang Suguan only turned to look out the window without speaking.

Seeing Yang Suguan’s silence, Yan Ting didn’t know how to comfort him and could only lower her head quietly.

Years ago at the City God Temple in Changzhou, Yan Ting had confessed her love to this man before her, only to receive a gentle refusal. Later, when Wu Dingyuan fought Zhuo Lingzhao in a battle that shook heaven and earth, this man had begged her to speak in mediation.

Though they had known each other long, their social positions were worlds apart, so they never had the chance to be together. Until now… until now… Yang Suguan’s master had died, he was defeated in battle and stripped of office at the palace gates… so… so…

After a long time, Yan Ting gathered courage and said: “Division Secretary Yang, if you have any troubles, please tell Yan Ting, all right?”

Yang Suguan smiled faintly and looked sideways at Yan Ting: “Miss Yan Ting, why are you sitting beside me? Don’t you know the emperor hates me?”

Yan Ting turned her head away and said quietly: “I know.”

Yang Suguan smiled: “Then why dare you sit down? Aren’t you afraid of being implicated?”

Yan Ting looked at the man before her and smiled bitterly, though that smile was somewhat desolate. She sighed and said quietly: “I… I’m already implicated.” As she spoke, tears rolled down her face.

In the heavy rain and dim interior, Yang Suguan smiled slightly and reached out to pinch out the candle flame. Instantly, everything before them went pitch black. Yan Ting was slightly startled and hadn’t had time to speak when suddenly her lips felt warm—Yang Suguan had actually kissed her!

Yan Ting screamed and hurriedly dodged backward. She was both shocked and afraid, not knowing what was happening, when the waiter’s voice sounded behind her with an apologetic laugh: “Young master, leaving so soon? You gave your umbrella to the young lady—why not buy this humble one’s umbrella to make do…”

Hearing footsteps, Yan Ting quickly looked back to see Yang Suguan walking slowly downstairs without looking back.

Yan Ting touched her lips—that warm feeling still lingered. She bit her lower lip, completely unable to understand Yang Suguan’s intentions. For a moment she was both astonished and confused, thinking of Wu Dingyuan one moment and Yang Suguan the next. Looking at the heavy rain pouring outside the window, she suddenly gritted her teeth and immediately jumped out the window to chase after him.

The wind was strong and rain heavy, with few pedestrians on the road, but Yang Suguan was already nowhere to be seen. Yan Ting desperately wanted to find him and ask for clarification. Her lightness skills were the direct transmission of the Azure-Robed Scholar—her steps were extremely light. She flew along the street without splashing the accumulated water on the ground, like a fairy walking on waves as she chased after him.

Running all the way to the riverbank, she saw a person drenched in heavy rain, soaking wet as he gazed at the river surface—it was Yang Suguan. Yan Ting stood behind him and shouted loudly: “Yang Suguan!”

That figure still gazed toward the riverbank without turning around. Yan Ting shouted again: “Yang Suguan!” In the past, the two had been polite with each other, always calling him “Division Secretary Yang” or “Young Master Yang.” This was the first time in her life she called his name, yet it seemed she had called it a thousand times—it felt not at all strange.

The rain grew heavier, raindrops striking the river surface and stirring up water vapor. In the turbulent waves, it seemed as if dragons and water demons lurked beneath the surface. Yang Suguan only gazed at the great river, paying no attention to Yan Ting’s calls.

In her urgency, Yan Ting immediately ran to stand before Yang Suguan, blocking his view of the river scenery, and screamed: “Yang Suguan!”

In the torrential rain, Yang Suguan’s face was covered with water droplets as he lowered his head to look at her. Yan Ting was both excited and confused, about to speak again, when she saw Yang Suguan’s hands gently cup her pretty face, making her look at him, and he kissed her lips again.

Yan Ting’s face was covered with rainwater as she cried: “Since you didn’t want me back then, why do you provoke me now? Do you want me to be a fickle woman?”

Yang Suguan stared at her without blinking. He heard Yan Ting cry: “Dingyuan treats me very well—I don’t want to wrong him…” She struck hard at Yang Suguan’s chest and cried loudly: “Speak! Why do you provoke me! Why?”

Yan Ting was filled with both hate and love, biting her lower lip and looking up at the heartless man before her. Yang Suguan sighed and said quietly: “Yan Ting, I…”

Just as he spoke, suddenly they heard a bang from the distance, like firecrackers going off. With the sound, Yang Suguan’s body swayed, his words cut off mid-sentence, and his face became deathly pale.

Yan Ting screamed: “Why aren’t you speaking! Speak! Speak!” She grabbed Yang Suguan’s arms and shook him desperately. Just as she was about to speak again, she saw Yang Suguan look down at his chest with a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth.

Yan Ting followed his gaze and immediately screamed—she saw blood flowing straight from Yang Suguan’s chest.

A sniper… someone had fired a sniper shot… Yan Ting’s hands trembled as she stepped backward in shock until she hit the railing.

Yang Suguan smiled slightly and nodded: “Very good, very good. Finally going to kill me?”

Rainwater flowed down his cheeks as his knees went soft and he knelt before Yan Ting. Yan Ting saw Yang Suguan spitting blood and saw his back was blood-red—presumably the bullet had entered from behind, penetrating his organs and causing severe injury.

Bang… bang… Gunshots continued around them. Yan Ting, regardless of her own safety, held Yang Suguan in her arms and cried: “Why? Why?” She cried incessantly, as if asking why someone would try to kill him, and as if asking Yang Suguan why he had kissed her. In her confusion, she no longer knew what she was saying.

Yang Suguan was dying, no longer having the strength to support his body. He collapsed in Yan Ting’s arms and said quietly: “Of all the people I know in the world, today it is you who sees me off… Miss Yan Ting… Miss Yan Ting…”

Seeing Yang Suguan’s gaze gradually dim and his smile at the corner of his mouth slowly stiffen, Yan Ting wept like rain, only tightly grasping his hand without letting go. Their fates had been at odds—just when this relationship had finally shown some hope, in an instant circumstances changed and it became a separation of life and death.

Yang Suguan’s breathing grew shallow. He looked up at the sky and murmured: “Master… Guan’er is sorry to you… Master…” As he spoke, his right hand raised, his eyes filled with tears about to fall down his cheeks. When steel weeps, it rusts and dies…

Yan Ting tightly grasped his hand, crying heartbrokenly and screaming: “No! I won’t let you die! I won’t! I won’t!”

Suddenly there was another loud bang as gunfire struck, sending stone fragments flying from the nearby railing. Yan Ting was startled at first, but in her agitation she paid no attention to external changes. The railing was already old and decayed—missing a corner, it could no longer withstand the force and suddenly collapsed, rolling to Yang Suguan’s side.

Yang Suguan slowly awakened and stared at the broken railing beside him. In the misty water vapor, he saw the stone railing had cracked open, revealing a faint blue-green color. Yang Suguan’s mouth trembled as he summoned his last internal energy to grip that section of railing tightly. With a soft crack, the lime and clay debris all fell away. Suddenly he could see clearly—what he held in his hand was no longer a round stone rod, but a square seal the size of a fist.

Covered in clay and dust, the rain washed it clean, revealing six large seal characters.

“Imperial Seal of Emperor Zhengtong!”

On the verge of death, he looked into the distance where the Golden Water River flowed endlessly into the Yongding River—it looked like a divine dragon opening its mouth to hold something and deliver it to him… After going through countless hardships, abandoning his official position and sacrificing the lives of relatives, he had finally crossed the barrier that even Liu Jing had not crossed.

At this time and place, the legitimate mandate of Zhengtong descended.

With gunshots continuing around him, Yang Suguan struggled to sit up. Despite being covered in blood, the divine light in his eyes was still terrifying. He summoned his strength to pull down Yan Ting, and both rolled to the ground, hiding beneath the railing.

Yang Suguan, covered in blood, gasped: “Yan Ting, if you love me, do one last thing for me!”

With continuous upheavals, Yan Ting only cried incessantly: “Speak! Speak! Even if you want me to die, I’m willing!”

In the flying rain with misty water vapor around them and gunshots continuing, Yang Suguan gritted his teeth and said word by word: “When blue light burns in the capital that night, you must… you must have Wu Dingyuan gather all the Juyong Pass troops and march south to Beijing!”

Yan Ting was shocked: “March south to Beijing?”

Yang Suguan gasped: “In the final year of Wuchen, when the Dragon Emperor moves in the world—Qin Baxian’s dying words said that only the true dragon can successfully restore the dynasty. You… you…” He tightly grasped Yan Ting’s hand and said sternly: “You must subdue the dragon for me!”

Yan Ting’s whole body shook greatly. She was both shocked and afraid, wanting to ask more, when suddenly she saw Yang Suguan turn his back and cry out wildly: “Heaven does not abandon me! Heaven does not abandon me, Yang Suguan!”

He faced the river water and suddenly leaped up, then plunged into the river. Yan Ting stared blankly, then suddenly came to her senses. She screamed loudly: “Division Secretary Yang!” She leaped up with all her might, following Yang Suguan’s footsteps. With a splash, that slender figure fell into the water and was instantly swallowed by the great waters.

The gunshots finally stopped. Pedestrians on the road cried out in alarm, all looking at where the man and woman had fallen into the water.

“Guan Guan! Guan Guan! Woo… woo…” Mournful cries, sad and heartbreaking. Lady Yang knelt on the ground, covering her face in anguished weeping. Accompanied by farewell-like sobbing, ghostly fires seemed to float along the Yongding River bank. Countless torches lit up as hundreds of people gathered here to salvage bodies from the river.

Who was so cruel as to bear assassinating Yang Suguan? He already had no power or influence—the court had stripped his official position and insignia, the Yang family elders had expelled him from the family. Wasn’t this treatment of a “defeated general” enough? Did they have to kill him and end his life before these people would “show faces with spreading joy”?

Who did it? Was it the emperor? Did he deeply hate Yang Suguan for speaking against him and send people to kill him for revenge? Or was it Jiang Chong? Just to weaken the Liu faction’s power, striking first to prevent this War Board division chief from making a comeback in the future?

Who exactly? What did these people want to do? What benefit would there be from killing Yang Suguan?

“Come, first drink this cup of tea. Calm your nerves.” Two hands held a teacup as the iron pot poured hot tea with a trickling sound. The palms slowly warmed up, and the stiff, cold fingers were moistened by the hot steam, as if the whole body felt comfortable. Dry, bloodless cherry lips lightly sipped the tea.

“Miss Yan Ting, when Suguan was shot, you happened to be by his side, right?” A stern voice sounded in her ear, accompanied by the wind from the Yongding River bank. Liu Angtian’s voice sounded frightening. Despite trying hard to control herself, her teeth still began to chatter. Along with her body’s trembling, tea immediately splashed onto her slender hands, and in an instant the teacup overturned and was about to fall to the ground.

“Be careful! Don’t get burned.” A large hand reached over and caught the teacup on the spot. Though the rim was hot, that palm seemed to feel nothing—showing his internal energy cultivation was quite remarkable. That hand held the teacup and slowly moved it back before Yan Ting, saying gently: “The Marquis is asking you a question. Speak slowly, don’t be afraid.”

Yan Ting looked at the full moon face before her—it was Liu Angtian’s guard Wei Zizhuang. For a moment, Yan Ting’s pale face became even more bloodless, and in her panic she involuntarily shrank backward.

Fake people… all fake people…

“Sigh…” Someone behind her supported her and sighed quietly: “White-haired person seeing off black-haired person—no greater pain in life than this. Miss Yan Ting, is my son Suguan really dead?”

Yan Ting’s whole body was cold. Although she knew the person behind her was Yang Suguan’s father, she was still afraid, still completely cold. She quickly broke free from that person’s grasp and ran into the road.

“Grand Tutor Jiang arrives!” In the dark night, fires flickered as a large group of people appeared before Yan Ting. The leader rode a fine horse with a fat figure—naturally An Daojing. Beside the carriage was a monk dressed as a lama—it was Luo Moshi. From this formation, the person in the carriage must be the Crown Prince Grand Tutor, the dynasty’s number one powerful minister.

Even he had come… Death can be heavy as Mount Tai or light as a feather. If Yang Suguan’s spirit knew, he could rest in peace.

Seeing Yan Ting’s face full of terror as she kept backing away, Jiang Chong dismounted and loudly asked his subordinates: “Is this the girl? Is she the one who saw Yang Suguan fall into the river?”

Luo Moshi and others responded loudly, and Jiang Chong quickly walked toward Yan Ting. Facing the dynasty’s most famous villain, Yan Ting’s eyes filled with tears, not knowing where to flee. She could only crouch on the ground—seeing her holding the teacup with both hands, her shoulders constantly trembling, she was truly terrified.

Just then, warmth came to her shoulders as someone covered her with a blanket. Yan Ting was both shocked and afraid, looking back to see a clear, otherworldly face—Gu Qianxi had come. Beside her stood a young man with bright eyes blocking Jiang Chong to the side—it was Lu Yun.

Yan Ting cried out and threw herself into Gu Qianxi’s arms, weeping loudly.

“Lord Jiang, coming so late at night—how dare we trouble you! How dare we trouble you!” Yang Yuan sighed.

Jiang Chong laughed dryly: “What are you saying? Isn’t the Marquis also here? Just doing our duty, just doing our duty.”

“Let’s not talk about this—quickly go see how the lady is doing. Accept fate with resignation, accept fate with resignation.” Liu Angtian sighed with feeling.

The three great ministers spoke back and forth, their faces piled with apology yet occasionally smiling subtly. Hearing the three men’s conversation, Yan Ting’s eyes immediately reddened and tears fell pitter-patter. Gu Qianxi understood her feelings and kept feeding her hot tea, but half the tea that entered her mouth overflowed from the corners—it was difficult to swallow.

In the midst of wailing, the three great ministers approached together. Liu Angtian sighed: “The assassin was insane and maddened—truly despicable. To openly commit murder in broad daylight? I, Liu, will do everything possible to catch the killer. Please rest assured, Grand Secretary Yang.”

Jiang Chong nodded: “Exactly right. Death is the greatest matter. Tomorrow I will memorialize the court, asking His Majesty to rescind the order and restore Yang’s lifetime official position.”

Hearing this, Yang Yuan immediately thanked them: “Thank you for Grand Tutor’s generous feelings, thank you for the Marquis’s righteousness. I thank both of you on behalf of my dog son.”

Everyone’s gazes met, their faces all cracked with smiles, seemingly numb and wooden.

Suddenly they heard a woman scream: “Don’t burn! Don’t burn! He’s not dead yet—don’t burn!” Lu Yun looked sideways and saw several servants holding paper money about to light and burn it. A middle-aged beautiful woman with tears covering her face kept waving her hands to stop them—it was the Yang family’s mistress, Lady Yang.

He heard her scream: “Suguan! It’s all mother’s fault! Mother’s fault! Come back quickly!” It was said this woman was usually dignified and composed, but now she seemed desperate, apparently not believing her beloved son had died like this. When the servants wanted to burn paper money, she naturally refused. With the mother already showing signs of madness, Yang Shaoqi desperately blocked while silently shedding tears.

Yang Yuan was a person of extraordinary composure. With his beloved son’s tragic death, he only sighed a few times without saying much. Apart from exchanging pleasantries with Jiang Chong, Liu Angtian and others, most of the time he examined where his son was shot, as if trying to find some clues.

With no starlight or moonlight and darkness all around, the scene at this moment wasn’t very clear, like an illusory dream. Lu Yun sat by the riverbank, staring blankly at the Yongding River in the deep night, also seeming entranced.

According to the Banner Guard officers’ report of the case: this afternoon by the Yongding River, gunshots rang out loudly. At that time, passersby fled in panic, looking for cover. In the confusion, they saw a man and woman jump into the water one after another. When the authorities were notified and arrived, they rescued a soaking wet woman from the river. Later, when asked about the identity of the man who fell into the water, it turned out to be the former War Board division chief who had been stripped of citizenship, son of the Five Assistant Grand Secretaries—Yang Suguan. This alarmed the great ministers—not only did Yang Yuan and Liu Angtian come, but even Jiang Chong arrived.

Lu Yun smiled bitterly and lowered his head.

In life, no one cared about him, discarded like worn shoes. Even if posthumous honors were extremely elaborate, what use was that?

Just as he was thinking, suddenly the water surface split open and a big man broke through the water—this person’s skills were extremely agile, naturally Wu Dingyuan. As soon as he leaped ashore, everyone urgently crowded around him. Some shocked, some urgent, some afraid, some panicked—everyone asked in unison: “How is it? Did you see any sign of him?”

Wu Dingyuan, dripping wet, brushed off water droplets and shook his head: “I searched carefully—there’s no body at the bottom of the river. But he took a bullet to the chest, and had injuries on his back before. I think… sigh…” Though he didn’t say the four words “more bad luck than good,” the meaning was about the same.

Just then, suddenly they heard a mournful cry: “You’re lying! He’s not dead! He’s not dead!” Then the person fell backward—it was Lady Yang.

Wu Dingyuan secretly sighed and saw Lu Yun giving him meaningful looks, so he changed his words: “Perhaps Division Secretary Yang is safe and sound—that’s also possible. The river bottom is too deep, and it’s dark at night. Unable to find him for the moment, I think we should come back tomorrow morning.”

Although Wu Dingyuan had the body of a true dragon, after searching all night in the cold water, he was inevitably exhausted. He shook his head and walked toward Yan Ting when suddenly someone reached out and grabbed him. Wu Dingyuan looked back and saw it was Liu Angtian.

Wu Dingyuan was extremely tired and had no energy for much talk. He cupped his hands: “Marquis.”

Liu Angtian glanced at Yan Ting and whispered in his ear: “When the incident occurred, this Miss Yan Ting… cough… happened to be accompanying Suguan. Seeing she’s quite frightened, you must comfort her well.” Breaking the sentence twice, the intention was not hard to understand.

Hearing these words, Wu Dingyuan immediately lowered his head. Liu Angtian patted his shoulder, wanting to speak but stopping, his gaze quite meaningful.

In the dark night with high winds, Yan Ting crouched on the ground in the distance, crying—so gentle and pitiful. Even if she had a secret meeting with Yang Suguan, even if she shared a bed with Yang Suguan, so what? Even if this girl never liked him, so what?

Wu Dingyuan suddenly smiled gently. He gently freed himself from Liu Angtian’s grasp and walked toward Yan Ting.

As soon as Yan Ting saw him coming, she immediately threw herself into his embrace and cried loudly: “Brother Wu, quickly take Yan Ting away! Yan Ting doesn’t like the capital! Don’t want to stay here!”

Wu Dingyuan looked at the several great ministers, then at Yan Ting. He gently stroked the beauty’s back and said quietly: “Don’t worry, big brother will take you to a safe place. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Seeing Yan Ting break into tears of joy and nod repeatedly, Wu Dingyuan sighed, his gaze becoming even deeper.

Fake people… all fake people… Yan Ting… are you also a fake person?

At dawn, Qianqing Palace was completely silent. The palace gates were heavily guarded, and in the dragon’s bed chamber, favored concubines slept exhausted from their attendance.

Emperor Jingtai suddenly couldn’t sleep. In loose robes and slow belt, he walked alone in the imperial garden, his dragon heart melancholy tonight, wanting to contemplate state affairs alone. The eunuchs followed from afar, everyone cautious in expression, not daring to follow too closely lest they disturb the imperial wisdom, but also not daring to be too distant lest they couldn’t hear the emperor’s commands—this stepping in sync showed great learning in attendance.

Qianqing Gate was the boundary for palace guards—south belonged to imperial guard jurisdiction, north belonged to Eastern Depot eunuch guards. But Liu Jing was dead, Eastern Depot masters had vanished like smoke, and imperial guards had also suffered severe purges. At this time, only a group of eunuchs with mediocre martial arts guarded the north gate.

These days, although Jiang Chong had extensively recruited masters, ordinary martial world people came from humble origins—they hadn’t been castrated and didn’t understand etiquette, so naturally they couldn’t be allowed to guard the harem lest they create more disturbance. For this reason, the forbidden palace’s first line of defense was also the last line—all masters were deployed along the palace walls. But once assassins penetrated the walls, the emperor’s safety would surely be in danger.

Because the defense line was weak, the emperor’s current personal eunuchs were all men of absolute loyalty, selected from hundreds, always using their flesh as shields and exchanging their lives for the emperor’s.

Jingtai entered the garden. The moonlight was bright, illuminating Rabbit Mountain clearly, but the ruler of ninety-five was heavy with concerns. Despite the beautiful scenery before him, his expression was quite melancholy.

In his youth, Jingtai was just a powerless idle prince who greatly envied his imperial brother Zhu Yan. In his free time, he always loved imagining himself roaming the harem in carefree contentment. Beautiful concubines for him to choose from, supreme in the forbidden city, doing whatever he wanted—men fighting and farming for him, women bearing heirs for him. Truly the world’s greatest pleasure!

Who knew that actually taking the imperial throne was not like that? Although he controlled ten thousand li of territory, could kill thousands in great anger, and randomly favor concubines in great joy, as days passed, even the most wonderful things became dull and tasteless. Though concubines remained absolutely beautiful, his physical strength declined daily and bedroom pleasures grew increasingly bland. Having killed too many people, when alone at night he couldn’t help shedding tears. When worshipping Buddha, he felt even more confused, fearing karmic retribution after death and not being reborn in the next life.

His only sustenance had actually become this.

What his heart sought was hoping for peaceful rivers and mountains, joyful society—that desire coiling in his heart, repeatedly impossible to dispel, was actually hoping for subjects’ sincere praise and genuine love. If future historians would nostalgically mourn and respect him as a Saint Ancestor or Benevolent Ancestor, he would die without regret.

Coming to the imperial study, large groups of eunuchs guarded outside the door. Inside, an unknown little eunuch was dozing. Startled by the emperor’s arrival, he hurriedly came forward to respectfully light candles, then offered tea.

In thirty years, Jingtai didn’t know how many such little eunuchs had been replaced, so naturally he didn’t recognize who this person was. He smiled slightly at the little eunuch and reached out to touch his head. The little eunuch was both happy and afraid, about to kneel down when Jingtai helped him up with his hand, smiling: “It’s not court time—no need for excessive courtesy.”

Twenty years ago, when his mood was bad, he had cursed at a child. That little eunuch, ashamed beyond endurance, jumped into a well and died that very night. Since then, Jingtai had never been fierce with eunuchs again. He learned a phrase from his daughter Yinchuan: “Being born into the imperial family is truly a kind of sin.”

Perhaps it was so. Despite that day when the War Board division chief committed the offense of contradicting his superior, he spared him from death. Those many defeated ministers—he also forgave their crimes and gave them opportunities to atone through meritorious service.

How many emperors could have such breadth of mind and bearing? Jingtai’s lips curved in a smile as he slowly sat at his desk.

Taking up memorials to read carefully one by one—deep night and quiet was the best time to contemplate state governance. With calm heart and peaceful spirit, examining himself thrice—first not seeking great achievements but seeking to make fewer mistakes in governance. Making fewer mistakes meant killing fewer people, and killing fewer people was great merit. The fifty-something-year-old thus admonished himself.

The first memorial was from Kong An, its content nothing more than preparations for celebrating the Empress Dowager’s birthday and such—tedious and boring content, but the essay repeatedly just wanted to ask for 300,000 taels of silver. The emperor sighed. He didn’t approve it with “Yes” but only wrote: “When benevolence is thick, then there is filial piety”—letting Kong An comprehend the meaning himself.

Looking at the second, it was from Jiang Chong, saying he wanted to build the western section of the Great Wall and needed four million taels of silver. The emperor shook his head—the Jiang faction’s embezzlement had been going on for more than a day. He wrote five characters: “People’s hearts are stronger than walls.” Whether Jiang Chong could comprehend it depended on himself.

Quickly reading through more than ten memorials, he was somewhat tired. He placed the memorials back on the desk when suddenly a piece of paper slipped out from the thick stack of memorials and fell squarely on the table.

The emperor made a sound of surprise. Looking at that paper—thin and crude in appearance—he didn’t know who had sent this. Full of puzzlement, he reached out to pick it up and read carefully.

On it were only six red characters circled in a square frame. Reading character by character, he suddenly read out… “Imperial Seal of Emperor Zhengtong!”

The world’s number one legitimate imperial seal, the mysteriously vanished hereditary jade seal, had actually appeared in the world here? Shocked, Jingtai quickly examined it carefully. The carving was not wrong at all—this was indeed the Zhengtong hereditary imperial seal that had been hidden for many years.

The Imperial Seal Office stored twenty-four imperial seals in total, but the most important one had been lost during Emperor Wuying’s fifteenth year of personal campaign. This imperial seal that disappeared together with the late emperor was commonly called the “Zhengtong Seal.” This seal was transmitted from the Tang Dynasty, being the treasure for founding great edicts and sacrifices. It had been missing for over thirty years now.

Although the court still possessed the other twenty-three imperial seals, these ceremonial seals were all later-made, called “Imperial Letter Seals,” “Honoring Relatives Seals,” “Revering Heaven and Diligent People Seals.” Even if exquisitely made with numerous characters, they were far inferior in importance to the founding legitimate ceremonial seal.

The “Zhengtong Seal” suddenly appearing in the world—was this a good omen or bad omen? The emperor was puzzled, not knowing who had done this. If the Imperial Seal Office had recovered the hereditary jade seal, that would be tremendously joyous news. But it seemed suspicious—if these ministers had achieved such merit, wouldn’t they make a great show of it? How could they slip it into memorials without fanfare?

He couldn’t guess where this paper slip came from. Looking through the large batch of memorials, turning and turning, he suddenly found another piece of paper. He snorted and immediately read carefully.

“Return our rivers and mountains?” The characters on the paper were bold and free, the calligraphy powerful and vigorous, like a sharp blade thrust straight into his heart.

This was… this was imperial brother Wuying’s handwriting…

“Someone! Help! Help!” The Yellow Dragon cried to heaven for rescue, his screams piercing the night sky and awakening countless sleeping concubines and eunuchs. The emperor was shocked and terrified, the state was unsettled—since Liu Jing’s death, the capital was about to be placed under martial law for the second time.