At this time of year, the persimmon tree’s leaves had already grown sparse. The persimmon fruits hanging full on the branches were coated with white frost, truly resembling white-haired heads.
Growing old together—what beautiful words.
Luo Sheng gazed quietly at the man who spoke these words to her.
He was very tall. Even though she was considered tall among women, she still had to tilt her head up to look into his eyes.
Those eyes were dark and clear, full of sincerity and anticipation.
Luo Sheng’s throat felt parched, her lips moving.
Wei Han held his breath waiting for her answer.
“I’m unwilling.”
The young woman’s answer was soft, as if crushed by the late autumn wind, blown bit by bit into Wei Han’s ears, then falling into his heart.
His heart instantly ached.
He had been rejected.
Wei Han stared blankly at the young woman so close before him.
He wasn’t actually surprised by this outcome, yet he still felt distressed.
He tasted the flavor of unwillingness, but didn’t ask those three words “why.” Instead, he smiled at the expressionless young woman: “Then let’s go to the main hall for tea.”
Luo Sheng’s tone was calm, as if nothing had happened: “Your Highness go ahead and drink. I’ll return to my room first.”
Wei Han fell silent for a moment, then agreed.
The two separated by the persimmon tree—one walking toward the main hall, one walking toward her room.
Growing farther and farther apart.
The room was quiet and still. Luo Sheng raised her hand to rub her cold, stiff face, gazing through the carved window at that solitary persimmon tree in the courtyard.
Prince Kaiyang had invited her to grow old together… So those few times hadn’t been her being presumptuous after all.
Luo Sheng smiled self-mockingly.
She had said she wasn’t the type to be presumptuous.
After the smile came long silence.
Footsteps sounded outside the room.
Luo Sheng continued gazing out the window, watching with her own eyes as a persimmon suddenly fell from a branch, shattering to pieces.
Such sweet persimmons—what a waste.
This thought had barely crossed her mind when a voice came from beyond the curtain: “Miss, may I come in?”
Luo Sheng withdrew her gaze, saying calmly: “Come in.”
Xiu Yue walked in gently.
“Is something the matter?” Luo Sheng asked with a smile.
But Xiu Yue felt that smile looked heart-wrenching. After a moment of silence, she said: “Miss, Prince Kaiyang… is quite a good person…”
Most importantly, he was good to the Princess.
The Princess had things too difficult, too exhausting.
Luo Sheng kept her eyes lowered for a long while without speaking.
“Princess—” Xiu Yue didn’t know how to advise her, yet couldn’t help but speak.
Luo Sheng looked up with a smile: “But he’s surnamed Wei.”
Wei Qiang had been deposed, but Prince Pingnan’s manor still stood.
Even if Prince Pingnan’s manor fell—Luo Sheng shifted her gaze toward the direction of the Imperial Palace.
If Prince Pingnan’s manor fell, there would still be an even greater mountain pressing down above.
At that time, it would be fortunate if they weren’t enemies.
Hearing Luo Sheng’s words, Xiu Yue also fell silent.
Wei Han sat in the main hall, drinking cup after cup of tea.
Shi Yan couldn’t bear to watch anymore and came over: “Master, should this subordinate fetch you a pot of wine instead?”
Drinking tea with the posture of drowning one’s sorrows—could his stomach take it?
“One jar.”
Shi Yan froze, then quickly brought over a jar of wine.
The wine was clear, its fragrance intoxicating.
Wei Han silently finished the wine and rose to leave.
When Luo Sheng came out, she saw the wine table by the window was empty, with only the solitary wine jar and wine bowl remaining.
Shi Yan sighed heavily: “Our master’s stomach isn’t good. When he drinks too much wine, it hurts terribly.”
Luo Sheng looked at him deeply.
Shi Yan continued sighing: “By the looks of it, he won’t come to eat tonight either. He can’t eat at the manor, so that will be even more uncomfortable…”
Luo Sheng felt inexplicably irritated listening to this, saying coolly: “Knowing your master’s stomach hurts when he drinks too much wine, you still brought him a whole jar?”
Shi Yan was struck speechless by the question.
“Don’t eat dinner either. Share your master’s hardships.”
Shi Yan’s vision went dark. He slumped into a chair, ten thousand grievances in his heart: Why should he? Other people share blessings and hardships as husband and wife—was it appropriate for a mere guard like him to receive such high treatment?
Miss Luo was venting her anger!
Venting anger—
Shi Yan blinked, picking up on something: Miss Luo was distressed for him.
Looking at it this way, Miss Luo wasn’t as unfeeling as she appeared.
No—he had to tell his master about this discovery, lest his master become self-destructive and not even dare come to the tavern anymore.
Seeing there was still time before the tavern opened, the young guard slipped out, casually plucking a jujube from the date tree branches by the door and tossing it into his mouth.
A carriage stopped not far away. Princess Changle walked over quickly.
Shi Yan hurriedly swallowed the jujube, watching with his own eyes as Princess Changle entered the tavern.
Princess Changle had come to find Miss Luo again?
The young guard muttered to himself and headed toward Prince Kaiyang’s manor.
Luo Sheng looked at the empty wine jar placed before her, inexplicably finding it an eyesore, and ordered: “Hong Dou, clear the table.”
“Ay.” Hong Dou crisply acknowledged and efficiently cleared the table.
There wasn’t much to clear—just an empty wine jar and an empty wine bowl. In an instant, the tabletop became bare, even the spilled wine wiped clean.
Luo Sheng lowered her eyes to hide her emotions and walked toward the back.
“A’Sheng—”
Luo Sheng turned around.
Princess Changle walked over as if no one else existed, casually ordering Sheng Sanlang: “Bring me a pot of tangerine wine.”
After the tangerine wine was brought up, Sheng Sanlang ran off at lightning speed.
Princess Changle cast a puzzled glance after him, then said to Luo Sheng: “A’Sheng, your cousin may have a rounded physique, but his movements are quite nimble.”
Hidden behind the door curtain, Sheng Sanlang’s expression twisted.
What did she mean by “rounded physique”?
But then he breathed a sigh of relief: Rounded was fine—in Princess Changle’s eyes, being rounded was much safer than being tall and elegant like jade trees in the wind.
These past days he’d been constantly anxious about being seized by the Princess to become a male companion. The stress had been so great he’d eaten an extra bowl of rice.
Luo Sheng’s peripheral vision caught the slightly swaying door curtain and smiled: “Yes, my cousin is quite capable.”
Princess Changle took a sip of the sweet and sour tangerine wine, revealing her true purpose: “A’Sheng, has Su Yao not come to drink wine lately?”
Luo Sheng shook her head impassively: “He hasn’t come for some days.”
From when Princess Changle first met Su Yao at the tavern until now, some time had passed. Gradually, rumors spread that Princess Changle had taken a liking to the new top scholar.
Reportedly, the top scholar showed no pleasant expression toward Princess Changle’s favor.
Princess Changle held her wine cup with a smile: “He’s avoiding me.”
She appeared to be smiling like a flower, light and breezy, yet Luo Sheng saw the determination to succeed in her eyes.
“He is Young Princess’s fiancé.”
Hearing Luo Sheng say this, Princess Changle laughed: “In my eyes, men are only divided into those handsome enough to be male companions and ugly men.”
Whose fiancé he was—what did that matter?
Princess Changle set down her wine cup and stood up: “A’Sheng, I’ll leave first. I’ll come drink wine again when the tavern opens.”
Luo Sheng rose to see Princess Changle to the door, watching as that luxurious carriage parked by the roadside gradually departed.
Sitting in the carriage, Princess Changle lazily instructed her palace maid: “Have the driver go directly to the Hanlin Academy.”
If the mountain wouldn’t come to her, she would go to the mountain. Could a living person with a name vanish into thin air?