The sky had just begun to lighten, and a thin layer of morning dew clung to the tips of the purple bamboo leaves in the courtyard.
Fan Changyu groggily opened her eyes, feeling a throbbing pain in her temples.
Had she really gotten drunk last night?
Frowning, she raised a hand to rub her forehead. As she breathed in, she noticed an unfamiliar scent on the bedding, which jolted her fully awake. Instinctively, she glanced down—relieved to find her clothes still properly on her body.
But what met her eyes was a dark quilt embroidered with diamond-shaped floral patterns and bird motifs. The gauzy bed curtains, adorned with intertwining lotus vines, were only half-drawn near the headboard. Golden morning light scattered across them, making the dark lotus patterns shimmer as if glowing.
Assuming she had been temporarily placed in the city lord's residence after passing out drunk, Fan Changyu sighed in relief and pushed herself up from the bed.
"Awake?" A low, hoarse voice came from beyond the bed curtains.
Fan Changyu stiffened and turned her head toward the sound. Through the golden silk curtains, she could vaguely make out a figure seated by the latticed window opposite—dressed in a python-patterned robe with a jade belt, his dark hair half-tied with a golden crown, half-loose. He sat there motionless as a statue in the dawn light, as if he had been there for hours.
Xie Zheng?
Was she in his room?
For a long moment, Fan Changyu's mind went blank.
Her hangover headache was unbearable, forcing her to press her fingers against her temples as she tried to recall the events of the previous night.
She remembered pretending to be drunk and letting the maids escort her out of the main hall. But later, when she had intended to find a place to sober up, she must have actually gotten drunk. The last thing she could recall was washing her face in a water vat before Xie Zheng hauled her out.
Had he seen her in that drunken state?
Given their current relationship, why hadn't he simply ordered a maid to take her to a guest room? Why bring her to his own quarters instead?
Countless questions swirled in Fan Changyu's mind, but she couldn't remember a single thing after getting drunk. Fearing there might have been some misunderstanding, she spoke first, "I apologize. I was drunk last night. I... didn't cause any trouble for the Marquis, did I?"
Separated by the gauzy curtain, she couldn't see the expression on the face of the man seated in the rosewood chair opposite, but she could feel the atmosphere in the room plummet.
Fan Changyu wasn't sure if it was something she had just said that displeased him or if she had truly behaved inappropriately the night before.
Hearing the sounds of early-rising servants moving about the courtyard, she worried that if she delayed any longer, someone might see her leaving Xie Zheng's room. She pushed aside the golden silk curtain and got up, pulling on her boots as she said, "If I offended you in any way last night, this general will come another day to apologize properly—"
The man, who had been silent until now, suddenly let out a cold laugh. "What could you possibly do to offend me?"
His voice was rough, as if filled with sand—likely from sitting there all night—yet his words were sharp and icy, as though he despised how she constantly drew lines between them.
Fan Changyu's hands stilled mid-motion as she pulled on her boots. A deathly silence stretched between them.
Once her boots were on, she lifted her head. Without the curtain obstructing her view, she could clearly see his pallid complexion, the faint redness at the corners of his eyes from staying up all night, and the dried blood on his fingertips where they rested on his knees.
Anyone could see the exhaustion weighing on him, yet he remained taut as a drawn bowstring—as if the slightest crack in his feigned composure would unleash something frenzied and twisted.
Looking at him like this, Fan Changyu felt an inexplicable ache in her chest.In her memory, Xie Zheng had always been arrogant and aloof. Even when she was on the brink of death and he took her in, he never showed the slightest hint of vulnerability.
But now, she felt that his sharp, thorny pride and harshness were nothing more than a thin layer of ice on a lake—easily cracked under the slightest warmth of the sun.
As if realizing how cutting his words had been, Xie Zheng fell silent for a moment before standing and walking toward the door. "What would you like to eat?"
His tone was so natural, as if they had always been like this—never estranged by the enmity between their fathers.
Memories of their past interactions resurfaced. Fan Changyu had thought she could face them calmly, but now, an aching sorrow gripped her heart.
"Xie Zheng."
The man, his hand already on the door latch, froze at her call.
Changyu looked at his slender, upright figure, took a deep breath, and spoke again, her voice hoarse despite her efforts: "Since we parted in Chongzhou, we haven’t had a proper conversation. Let’s take this chance today to clear the air."
The man standing with his back to her didn’t respond, but he made no move to leave either, as if waiting for her to continue.
Changyu said, "I’m sorry about General Xie’s death."
At the mention of Xie Linshan, Xie Zheng remained silent. His back was turned to her, hiding his expression, but the veins on his hand gripping the latch bulged from the force of his grip.
"I don’t blame you for the choices you made or the things you said back then. Until the truth about what happened seventeen years ago is fully uncovered, I won’t ask you to believe my grandfather or my father again. Out of respect for Grand Tutor Tao, you once said you’d only treat me as a fellow disciple from now on. But I can’t be as detached as the Marquis."
Changyu stared at his back, her eyes stinging, but she forced out each word with deliberate clarity: "Let’s go our separate ways from now on. I’ve overstayed my welcome today."
Her mother used to say she had a thick skin, but the people she truly cared about—losing even one could take half her life.
She didn’t fall for someone easily. And once she did, how could she simply let go?
Their fathers’ feud, the imperial marriage decree—too much stood between them. There was no going back.
Crack.
The sound of splintering wood came from the door—Xie Zheng had crushed the latch in his grip.
Changyu’s heart lurched.
She saw the dried blood on his fingers split open anew, tiny beads of red welling up from the pressure. Yet he seemed oblivious to the pain as he asked, still facing away, "What if I said I regret it?"
Changyu’s pupils dilated slightly, momentarily stunned. "What?"
Xie Zheng turned around. His eyes were pitch-black, unreadable. A crimson droplet slid down his pale, slender knuckles and splattered on the ground like a tiny blood-red tear.
"I said, I regret it."
His voice was hollow yet stubborn.
The words struck Changyu like a blow, leaving her chest numb before a wave of bitterness rose in its place. She stood silent for a long time.
The doorframe blocked the morning light spilling into the room, casting Xie Zheng in shadow. Changyu, standing opposite the latticed window, was bathed in the full glow of the rising sun—vibrant and warm.The dividing line between light and dark seemed like an insurmountable chasm.
After a long silence, Fan Changyu finally heard herself ask hoarsely, "You regret it, so what now?"
Xie Zheng gazed at her quietly, his pitch-black pupils devoid of any light. "Let's go back to how we were before, alright?"
He had tried to let her go, but the greatest torment and agony he'd ever endured in his life had been during these past days.
At first, he thought he would gradually grow accustomed to it—just like how, as a child, he couldn't accept the fact that his parents had passed away one after another. No matter how painful it was, he could endure it.
If one day wasn't enough, then a month. If a month wasn't enough, then a year... Yet he hadn't even lasted a month.
The emptiness in his chest was unbearable. The longer he stayed away from her, the more that void grew, threatening to drive him mad.
Endless slaughter and pain couldn't alleviate it in the slightest.
Many times, Xie Zheng wondered if he was already dead.
No—death would probably be easier to bear than this torment.
She seemed to have always been a part of his life. So once he lost her, he became a broken, desolate shell of himself.
Night after night, she and the horrific image of Xie Linshan's death on the battlefield seventeen years ago alternated in his dreams, leaving him struggling in endless darkness, bloodied and battered.
It seemed his life was meant only for vengeance, unworthy of even the slightest joy or mercy in this world.
Yet from her, he had received the purest, most fervent love.
She was the one who showed him that this world wasn't solely filled with bitterness.
But Xie Linshan's abdomen—gutted, his organs removed, crudely stitched back together by the medics—and the deep, bone-exposing wounds from blades and axes weighed on him relentlessly, suffocating him.
When hatred and love tormented him to the brink of madness, he realized with a shock that he hated her too.
Her family had caused his father's death! They had made him suffer for half his life.
She had taught him what love was, only to let that affection torment him day and night, ensuring his remaining years would never know peace.
At the peak of his hatred, he had even thought that once his vengeance was complete, he would take her with him in death.
If they couldn't share a bed in life, they would share a grave in death.
He would no longer have to endure such pain and torment. On the Naihe Bridge, he could hold her hand and cross into the next life together.
In their next life, perhaps they wouldn't be separated by such a blood-soaked feud. Maybe they could meet as children, grow up together... She liked scholars, so he would become a refined scholar, earn honors, and marry her when she came of age. They would raise children...
But it was just a fantasy.
If he could bear to hurt her even slightly, he wouldn't have merely vowed never to see her again in this life.
When he saw her again and learned she had narrowly escaped death, the terror that clenched his teeth and the trembling fury and helplessness were feelings he never wanted to experience a second time.
Xie Zheng looked at the armored girl standing in the morning light, her hair haloed in a faint golden glow, like a deity who had strayed into the mortal world.
The scene from last night, when Zheng Wenchang had toasted on her behalf, resurfaced in his mind. The jealousy roaring in his heart grew like wild grass.
Couldn't she be his deity alone?
Fan Changyu's prolonged silence stretched on.
Unconsciously, Xie Zheng clenched his fingers. The faint pain from the wounds on his fingertips sharpened his awareness, his dark eyes growing even more unfathomable.
Fan Changyu was simply stunned.Just like before?
How could it be like before?
Between them lay the enmity of their fathers. Even if the truth of the Jinzhou Massacre from seventeen years ago could eventually be uncovered, the emperor had already decreed the marriage—he was going to marry the princess. What did that make them?
Fan Changyu had heard that some high-ranking officials kept mistresses. Could it be that he wanted her to be his mistress?
A suffocating tightness suddenly gripped Changyu’s chest, a sharp pain rising from deep within, blurring her vision. Suppressing the overwhelming bitterness in her eyes, she retorted, "How does the Marquis think we can go back to how things were?"
"Can the Marquis pretend the Jinzhou incident never happened? Or can he make the emperor revoke the marriage decree?"
By the time she uttered the last words, despite clenching her teeth and holding back for so long, a single tear finally escaped, falling heavily to the ground.
Xie Zheng’s expression darkened ominously at her first words, but when he heard the latter half, his gaze suddenly snapped up sharply. "Who told you the emperor decreed my marriage?"
OpenNovel