Wei Qiang hadn’t expected that after falling asleep again, he would dream once more.

It was still the wedding procession, the festive prince’s mansion, two people chasing through the night.

But as they neared Prince Zhennan’s mansion gates, he—who had previously understood everything in the dream—felt a moment of confusion.

He didn’t know whether what he was about to see next would be Luo’er struck by an arrow and falling from her horse, or Luo’er turning back with Miss Luo’s face.

Because of this thread of uncertainty, the anxiety and heartache he usually felt in the dream were temporarily suppressed.

The horse ran past a banyan tree by the roadside.

The time had come.

The woman galloping ahead suddenly turned back.

It was Miss Luo’s face!

Having been mentally prepared this time, Wei Qiang wasn’t so shocked that he woke up at this moment.

Then he saw Miss Luo suddenly raise a bow, drawing the bowstring taut and aiming at him.

The feathered arrow flew like a meteor, heading straight for his face.

“Wei Qiang, shall we practice archery together?”

This phrase suddenly echoed in his ears.

Wei Qiang’s eyes flew open, catching a flash of golden light before him. He hastily dodged to the side.

Heart-piercing pain struck as the golden hairpin stabbed into his shoulder.

“Yuniang!” Wei Qiang fully awakened to see the vicious-faced woman before him, utterly shocked.

Zhaohua bit her lip hard, forcefully pulled out the golden hairpin, and swung it toward Wei Qiang’s neck.

There was no time left—footsteps were already sounding outside!

At this moment, Zhaohua’s mind was empty. There was no regret at having failed with one strike, nor fear at fighting with a man.

She had only one thought: kill the person before her!

But Wei Qiang, having recovered his wits, was no longer someone Zhaohua could handle.

The natural disparity in strength between men and women had already determined the outcome of this struggle.

Moreover, Wei Qiang had also grown up learning horsemanship and archery.

Wei Qiang seized the golden hairpin from Zhaohua’s hand and threw it to the floor.

The golden hairpin fell on the ice-cold floor tiles, making a cold, hard, crisp sound.

Just like Wei Qiang’s recent rebuke, in this silence before dawn, it seemed particularly clear.

“Your Highness—” the palace servants keeping night watch called from outside the curtain.

“Get out!” Wei Qiang, restraining Zhaohua’s hands and feet, barked the command.

The startled palace servants hastily withdrew.

Wei Qiang stared hard at Zhaohua, his expression twisted. “Speak! Why did you do this!”

This wretched woman actually dared to assassinate him!

After all these years, he had shown her favor and affection, and this was what he got in return—such audacity?

Zhaohua remained silent, turning her head to bite down on his arm.

The pain was no less than that in his shoulder.

It made Wei Qiang acutely aware that this woman wished she could tear off a piece of his flesh.

“Let go!” Wei Qiang freed one hand and forcefully gripped Zhaohua’s chin.

Zhaohua was forced to release her bite, blood hanging from the corner of her mouth.

The pain combined with deceived fury caused Wei Qiang to completely lose any tenderness he’d had for the woman before him.

His hand moved to her neck, tightening more and more.

“Why exactly did you do this!”

Zhaohua’s breathing gradually became difficult. Looking at the man’s ferocious expression, she knew if she didn’t say something now, she would never be able to speak again.

She struggled to claw at those hands, saying intermittently, “Because… you’ve forgotten the Princess… you’re deceiving yourself, looking for a replacement! Cough cough cough…”

As the man’s hands loosened slightly, Zhaohua began coughing violently.

But soon those hands tightened even more. The man’s temple veins bulged as if this statement had made his fury reach its peak.

“Shut up! I’m not deceiving myself. What do you understand—”

Zhaohua laughed coldly. “In the past, you were devoted to the Princess, so I was willing to serve you. But now you’ve developed feelings for another woman, wanting to betray the Princess, so I can only send you to see the Princess!”

Due to difficulty breathing, her face gradually turned purple, but looking at that man, her eyes showed not a trace of fear, only contempt.

“You… might as well give up… there’s only one Princess. The Princess is dead. In this world, there will never be another Princess…”

“Shut up, I’m telling you to shut up!” Wei Qiang was driven mad by every word Zhaohua uttered, suddenly increasing the force in his hands.

White light filled Zhaohua’s vision.

In that white light, she saw Shufeng, Jiangxue, and Xiu Yue from their youth, and herself too.

They surrounded the Princess. Xiu Yue, wearing double buns, asked excitedly, “Princess, what shall we name our tavern?”

The Princess looked at them, smiling as she said, “Let’s call it Youjian Tavern.”

What a pity—she never had the chance to go see Youjian Tavern.

To see whether the Youjian Tavern on Qingxing Street looked the same as the Youjian Tavern in her dreams.

It must be the same, because Youjian Tavern was opened by the Princess and Xiu Yue.

Princess, please don’t blame this servant.

This servant has always had rather poor luck. Though she was just a hair’s breadth from eliminating that man and solving Your troubles, that man just happened to open his eyes at that moment…

This servant is actually very tired. Please allow this servant to rest. When I see Shufeng and Jiangxue, this servant will tell them the good news that You opened Youjian Tavern with Xiu Yue.

That was the Youjian Tavern they had all yearned for.

A smile hung at the corner of Zhaohua’s mouth as her hands, which had been clawing at the man’s, silently fell limp.

After who knows how long, Wei Qiang released his hands. Looking at the woman whose eyes were wide open and completely motionless, his eyelids trembled.

He reached out to check her breath, only to discover that this woman who had accompanied him for twelve years had long since stopped breathing.

Wei Qiang sat numbly until the horizon showed the pale light of dawn.

Day had broken.

There was movement outside.

Bird songs and insect chirping—all things awakening.

Dou Ren stood outside the curtain calling, “Your Highness, it’s time to rise.”

After a long while came the man’s hoarse voice: “You come in alone.”

Dou Ren lifted the curtain and stepped into the bedroom.

The bedroom was permeated with an indescribable smell that made one uncomfortable.

Then Dou Ren saw the Crown Prince sitting pale-faced on the couch, and Consort Yu lying quietly.

Dou Ren instinctively felt something was wrong. Then his eyes suddenly contracted, catching sight of the bloodstain on Wei Qiang’s shoulder.

Because he was only wearing a snow-white underrobe, the bloodstain was especially distinct.

“Your Highness, you’re injured!”

Ignoring Dou Ren’s shock, Wei Qiang glanced at the person lying beside him.

Only then did Dou Ren dare to examine Zhaohua carefully.

At this look, he immediately stumbled backward repeatedly, frightened out of his wits.

“Your Highness—”

Wei Qiang stood up, slipped on his shoes, his tone impossible to tell whether it was indifferent or apathetic. “You deal with this.”

In the eyes of the world, Zhaohua was a maid left behind by the traitor’s daughter. She shouldn’t have existed in the first place—it was he who had willfully kept her.

If word got out that she had tried to assassinate him and been killed by him in return, he would become the laughingstock of the ages.

“Your Highness, Consort Yu’s palace maid called Qing’er—”

Wei Qiang faced the doorway without turning back. “You handle it as you see fit.”

Dou Ren could still manage this much.

“This servant obeys your command.” Dou Ren regained his composure and responded with lowered eyes.

Wei Qiang strode toward the bathhouse.

After washing for who knows how long, he changed into fresh clothes and walked out. Standing on the stone steps outside the hall, he discovered thick clouds roiling in the sky.

It was raining.

At first the raindrops weren’t large, but gradually they formed into curtains of rain hanging between heaven and earth.