Before Fan Changyu could answer, he chuckled softly to himself, "Li Huaian, wasn't it?"
He had sliced off one ear of the eunuch sent to deliver the imperial decree, sending the terrified messenger fleeing back to the capital without even unrolling the decree.
The young emperor, concerned with saving face, would surely suppress this incident.
Since the decree was never proclaimed, the so-called arranged marriage between him and the princess remained mere rumor. While it hadn't spread widely in the capital, she—far away in the northwest—could only have learned about his betrothal through Li Huaian.
Fan Changyu was momentarily stunned by the hostility radiating from him, then met his gaze squarely. "Who told me doesn't matter. Since you're already betrothed, you shouldn't have said those things to me. What do you take me for? And what do you take those past memories you spoke of for?"
Normally slow to recognize romantic feelings, she felt her heart twist with sharp, bitter pain by the last sentence, the ache rising to sting her eyes.
He had always been a good man in her heart. Even if their fathers' enmity forced them to part ways, she still wished him a smooth life—to remain the revered, battle-hardened Wu'an Marquis whose might shook the realm.
Though circumstances had changed, she refused to let anyone tarnish those beautiful memories.
Not even him!
Xie Zheng froze at Fan Changyu's accusations, his hostility momentarily suspended as he seemed lost in thought.
The rising sun cast slanted beams through the latticed window, bathing half his jade-carved profile in warm light. His long, dark lashes lowered slightly, and for an instant, he appeared as innocent as a child.
After a long pause, he finally lifted his head to look at her again. His eyes, bloodshot from a sleepless night, were eerily calm—a calm that made his composure all the more frightening.
When he stepped forward, Fan Changyu instinctively retreated, only to bump against the bedpost behind her.
Every flicker of panic and confusion in her eyes was captured by the man approaching against the light.
Xie Zheng's expression remained unreadable as he cupped her face with his bloodstained hand, tilting his head slightly to meet her gaze. His eyes, now webbed with crimson, held hers steadily. "Did Li Huaian also tell you that I cut off the decree messenger's ear and sent him scurrying back to the capital before he could announce it?"
Fan Changyu stared, stunned.
His bloodied thumb brushed gently across her cheek as he murmured, "When we met again in Lucheng, you kept your distance. Was it because of what Li Huaian told you?"
A lump formed in her throat, rendering her speechless. Tears, large as beans, rolled down her cheeks.
Xie Zheng wiped them away with his thumb, soothing her softly, "Don't cry."
His tenderness was just as she remembered.
The heart-wrenching sorrow gripped her chest, making it hard to breathe. Tears fell like scattered pearls as she gazed at him, nearly pleading, "Stop this... Xie Zheng, please stop..."
Her heart wasn't made of stone. It had taken her so long to heal the gashes in it—to see him again without feeling torn apart.
She couldn't bear to reopen those wounds that still made her tremble at night, not under his gentle touch.
If they were fated to have no future—if his life was burdened by tragedy while hers bore injustice—then she had to move forward.
Even if it meant breaking her bones, she would crawl, inch by inch, toward the truth.Seeing her like this, the crimson in Xie Zheng's eyes deepened even more.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, lowered his head to gently press against her forehead, and stubbornly asked, "Fan Changyu, can we go back to how we were before?"
Go back to how we were before.
Those words echoed in Fan Changyu's ears once more, leaving her with nothing but heartache and a suffocating sense of helplessness in the face of fate.
She struggled to contain her emotions: "Do you no longer care about the truth behind the Jinzhou case?"
Silence, thick and suffocating, fell between them once again.
Fan Changyu could feel his grip on her shoulder tighten, the blood seeping from his fingertips staining her robe.
They were too close—the scent of blood couldn't mask the crisp, faint aroma of soapberries that clung to him.
This was likely the closest she would ever get to him again.
Fan Changyu closed her eyes sorrowfully, trying to steady her trembling breath amidst his overwhelming presence.
Then, a hoarse voice whispered by her ear: "I don't care anymore."
Exhausted and broken, the words sounded like a decision made through blood and pain, the desperate resolve in them chilling to the bone.
Fan Changyu's pupils trembled. Her vision blurred as tears welled up, but she forced her eyes open, trying to see the man before her clearly. Choking back a sob, she asked, "Do you even know what you're saying?"
Xie Zheng's bloodshot eyes were filled with equal anguish. Suddenly, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, his jaw pressing against her temple as he rasped, "Then what do you want me to do?"
"Fan Changyu, tell me—what can I do?"
His voice was a raw, furious demand, as if he were laying his shattered self bare before her, like a cornered beast with no escape.
The wetness rolling down from his jaw soaked into Fan Changyu's hairline, scalding her skin.
"I tried to let you go. I tried everything—I truly have no other way left..."
He held her so tightly, yet his entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Like a drowning man clinging to his last lifeline.
"Whether you're Fan Changyu or Meng Changyu—it doesn't matter anymore. Let's just be together, alright?"
Fan Changyu's vision swam with tears. Her heart clenched with a different kind of pain, forcing her to gasp for breath. A choked sob escaped her throat.
After two months and seven days, she finally allowed herself to break down completely in his arms, weeping without restraint.
Warm sunlight spilled through the carved window lattice, dust motes dancing in the golden beams.
Pinned against the bedframe, the woman found her waist seized and her chin tilted up as the man before her claimed her lips in a deep, relentless kiss. The lotus-patterned bed curtains, once hooked in place, now tumbled loose. Every struggle was futile—she couldn't even cry properly anymore.
The autumn rain arrived without warning, pelting down like beans, turning the earthen road into a muddy mess.
A merchant caravan trudged through the downpour, spotting a dilapidated temple ahead where they could take shelter. The horses and carts hurried toward it.
Servants used broken door planks to start a fire inside, clearing a dry spot. Without bothering to dry their soaked clothes, they fetched stools from the carriage and arranged them before carefully assisting the person inside to step out.
The wide oil-paper umbrella obscured the man's face, but his dark blue brocade robe, embroidered with swirling clouds, spoke of wealth. Despite it only being September, a thick cloak already draped over his shoulders, hinting at poor health.From the rear carriage stepped a man clad in snow-blue scholar's robes, refined and gentle. Before entering the dilapidated temple to take shelter from the rain, he paused to glance back at the road they'd come before stepping inside.
Servants and guards remained outside the temple. By the fire within sat only the cloaked man and his mute attendant.
Li Huaian spoke: "Your Highness should rest awhile. Once the rain eases, we must continue our journey. The Li family's martial assassins have been nearly wiped out, barely managing to shake off Wu'an Marquis's Blood-Clad Cavalry. Should they catch up again, we'd be in grave trouble."
Qi Min's face darkened as he regarded the elegant young noble before him: "My people must be retrieved."
Having impersonated Sui Yuanhuai for over a decade before executing his golden cicada shedding its shell escape, he was no longer the disfigured recluse confined to Changxin Prince Manor's rear courtyards. Soon he would become master of this realm.
Li Huaian bowed respectfully: "The imperial great-grandson and his birth mother—the Li family will spare no effort to rescue them. But Your Highness's safety remains our foremost concern now."
The mute attendant brewed tea over the fire and presented it to Qi Min, who violently knocked it to the ground.
Shattered porcelain flew as scalding tea spread across the floor, some splashing onto Li Huaian's shoes. The commotion alerted guards outside, but Qi Min's royal Shadow Guards firmly held the temple entrance, preventing Li family guards from interfering despite their concern.
Li Huaian knelt calmly on the dusty ground: "Your Highness, please calm your anger."
Qi Min glared coldly: "It was your Li family who sent word that Xie Zheng had been lured to Bieyue Villa, urging my immediate departure for the capital. And what awaited me on the road? Hundreds of Xie Zheng's Blood-Clad Cavalry and that madman Sui Yuanqing!"
The Blood-Clad Cavalry alone terrified all of Great Yin, while Sui Yuanqing—driven by vengeance for his mother's death—fought like a war god incarnate, determined to take Qi Min's head.
Half the royal Shadow Guards perished in the ambush, and nearly all Li family elites were slaughtered before they broke through with only Qi Min. Yu Qianqian and Yu Bao'er fell into Blood-Clad Cavalry hands.
Upon learning Xie Zheng hadn't taken the bait, Li Huaian had immediately left Lucheng that night. With Wu'an Marquis commanding all northwestern forces, once the Blood-Clad Cavalry returned with the imperial great-grandson, escape would become impossible.
Now facing Qi Min's tirade, Li Huaian bowed with numb composure: "This failure is my responsibility—I failed to recognize Wu'an Marquis's counterploy, endangering Your Highness."
The game had progressed beyond deliberation. Every subsequent decision would follow the Li family's original plan, executed without considering right or wrong. His very detachment stoked Qi Min's fury.
Suddenly Qi Min grabbed Li Huaian's collar. Though his pallid fingers appeared frail from chronic illness, their grip matched a healthy man's strength. Only the royal Shadow Guards knew Qi Min secretly trained with them to overcome his sickly constitution.
He trusted no one beyond those Shadow Guards—not even Lan Shi and her son who'd served him for years.Qi Min's voice was chillingly cold: "Do you think the Li family has already won just because I safely entered the capital? Xie Zheng didn't dare to rebel in the northwest himself, but now that he has that child in his hands, do you think he still wouldn't dare?"
For the first time, a ripple of emotion stirred in Li Huaian's otherwise calm eyes.
Releasing his grip on Li Huaian's collar, Qi Min issued a cold command: "I don't care what methods your Li family uses. Either bring my people back unharmed, or... kill that child and bring his birth mother back."
Just then, a thunderclap exploded outside the ruined temple. The flash of lightning illuminated the smiling face of the Buddha statue before the shrine, lending it an eerie, sinister air.
A cold wind blew through the broken doorway, and only then did Li Huaian realize his entire body had gone icy with shock.
Bowing slowly, he replied: "This humble official obeys your command."
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