Love and Crown

Amid the clamor and chaos, the night wind brushed past my face.

Clenching my fists, I stood up and shouted to the crowd, "Imperial Bodyguards, listen! No one is to be harmed tonight!"

The assassins were few in number and had no intention of prolonging the fight, already retreating as they fought. The Imperial Bodyguards, locked in fierce combat, were momentarily stunned by such an order, allowing the black-clad assassins to withdraw even faster.

"Pursue them swiftly," Xiao Huan's voice suddenly rang out from behind—soft yet commanding and icy. "All assassins are to be executed without exception."

The Imperial Bodyguards hesitated for a split second before immediately giving chase with all their might. However, in that brief delay, the assassins had already scaled the rockery walls and escaped. Mirror Pond was located in the northwest corner of the Forbidden Palace, and beyond its walls lay the vast Taiye Lake. Once the assassins vanished into the waters, their trail was lost, making pursuit difficult.

"Cang Cang," a low voice called out beside me as someone grasped my sleeve. Xiao Huan coughed lightly before speaking, "Your identity as the Pavilion Master of Phoenix Come Pavilion must not be exposed."

I reached out and slapped his hand away from my sleeve with a sharp "smack." Turning to face him, I smiled coldly. "Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty."

My smile grew even colder. "But sacrificing a few of my own disciples to protect my identity—that's not something I'm willing to do."

Imperial Bodyguards arriving in succession began scaling the walls in pursuit. I turned and ran toward the same direction.

"Cang Cang!" To my surprise, my sleeve was grabbed a second time. Xiao Huan, now standing, held onto me with considerable strength. He coughed a few times before speaking again, "Cang Cang..."

"Your Majesty," Shi Yan, the usually off-duty commander of the Escort Battalion, had been alerted by the commotion and now knelt on one knee at the base of the steps to report, "We have failed in our duty and were unable to catch the assassins."

Seeing Shi Yan below the steps, the anger I had been suppressing suddenly flared. I turned back and sneered once more. "Listen to you? Listen to what? That you noticed the martial prowess of Phoenix Come Pavilion's members tonight and knew they'd escape? Or that leaving now would be too improper? Is there anything else you have to say besides this?"

His face paled further, but he remained silent.

Gritting my teeth, I wrenched my hand free and strode down the steps.

I hurried through the already chaotic banquet and made my way out.

From the moment I saw the emblem of Phoenix Come Pavilion on the flying dagger, cold sweat had broken out all over my body. I nearly cursed aloud—had these people gone mad? Did they mistake the Forbidden Palace for a tavern or the Imperial Bodyguard battalions for paper tigers? Tonight's situation clearly showed the Escort Battalion hadn't exerted their full effort. Otherwise, regardless of whether they were elite members of the Pavilion, half of them would have been left dead.

Lost in thought, I rushed forward when suddenly a figure stepped into my path, blocking my way—Duan Jingxue.

Dressed in a soft yellow gauze gown, her makeup radiant, Duan Jingxue met my gaze directly and smiled without bowing. "Empress."

With the entire courtyard in disarray, no one noticed our unusual exchange.

Already irritated, I had no patience for a young girl's nonsense. I smirked coldly. "Duan Jingyi is your elder sister, isn't she? Miss Duan Jingxue."

Still staring straight at me, Duan Jingxue smiled brightly. "The Empress is truly discerning to remember my sister.""I didn't remember at first, but after seeing someone who's always acting coy and spoiled, it finally came back to me," I said coldly. "The fifth-rank Consort Duan from the imperial harem back then didn't seem as fond of playing cute as Miss Duan is now."

"Does Her Majesty the Empress know what happened to my sister after she left the palace?" Duan Jingxue smiled sweetly. "I suppose Her Majesty wouldn't have paid attention to the fate of a mere fifth-rank consort after being dismissed from the palace. Let me tell you then—my sister, who was accomplished in both music and painting, gentle and virtuous before entering the palace, married a capital merchant twenty years her senior after leaving. Three years into the marriage, while pregnant with her second son, she was kicked in the stomach by that fat, ugly husband of hers and died in childbirth. All because the man saw her exchanging a few extra words with a fabric delivery boy—once discarded, always discarded, despised and humiliated, even if the one who abandoned her was the emperor."

Her sweet smile unwavering, Duan Jingxue looked at me: "All these years I've been watching, thinking—why should those two remain so blissfully happy, flying side by side? Why, among all those nationwide praises of the emperor and empress's deep affection, has no one spared a thought for the women who wasted their youth in the harem and left in misery? Your Majesty, you've surely never considered how pitiful and wretched those women are compared to your perfect life today."

Duan Jingxue still smiled: "Your Majesty, I'd very much like to see whether this legendary love between emperor and empress, this tale of sharing life and death, is truly as unwavering as they say." She gave a light laugh. "Your Majesty, Eunuch Wufu once said I resemble your younger self. Actually, losing to a younger version of oneself would feel rather intriguing, wouldn't it?"

With one final smile, she added: "Oh, and Your Majesty, if I were you, I'd never neglect the emperor at such a time—such a handsome, gentle man will have many vying for his affection."

Looking at her calmly, I smiled: "Miss Duan, do you think I'm neglecting the emperor because I'm jealous of you?" My faint smile deepened as I nodded. "Quite imaginative." Meeting her gaze steadily, I continued, "Unfortunately, I don't recall having the leisure for such petty jealousies."

"I've thought about it. I've thought about those concubines who left the palace. I know some met tragic ends." Slowly fading my smile, I enunciated each word: "But back then, not one of them entered the palace unwillingly. Everyone chooses their own path. Having made that choice, they should understand what benefits and uncertainties it entails. Every woman you describe as pitiful, weak and innocent—each walked into the Forbidden Palace on her own feet, each schemed and vied for favor in the harem.""You want me to feel guilty towards them?" I let out a cold laugh and spoke, "I'm sorry, but as far as I recall, I'm the one who's the empress. The ones who shamelessly tried to steal someone else's husband weren't me, but those pitiful concubines you're talking about. So, I absolutely won't feel the slightest bit of remorse for winning in the end. Sorry, but I'm a woman born wicked and selfish—I'm not used to sharing my man with others, nor am I inclined to be compassionate towards every miserable soul."

After finishing, I laughed again: "As for you, Miss Duan, saying you resemble my younger self... I never thought I'd lose to a version of myself from the past. Besides," I smirked, looking her up and down, "back then, I was far more adorable and beautiful than you."

Suddenly, I dropped my smile and stared into her eyes, enunciating each word: "The Emperor is my man. If I want to neglect him, I'll neglect him. If I want to dote on him, I'll dote on him. It's none of your business. Like your sister, stay away from what's mine!"

With that, I brushed past her and strode forward.

As we passed each other, she abruptly lifted her head, all traces of a smile gone, and said word by word: "This isn't over."

"Anytime," I sneered without breaking stride.

I practically sprinted back to Phoenix Come Pavilion and barged into Su Qian's bedroom, kicking the door open.

Su Qian had changed into pure white robes, looking ethereal as she polished her flying daggers. Seeing me, she smiled faintly: "Back already?"

"Did I have a choice?" I was so furious I wanted to tear this witch apart. "The 'big thing' you mentioned the other day was assassinating someone in the palace?"

"The Mid-Autumn banquet was packed with guests. There's no way to cover up an assassination attempt—rumors will spread like wildfire," Su Qian said, looking rather pleased. "Perfect timing."

"Perfect my ass!" I was so angry I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You crazy woman! You poisoned your hidden weapons!"

"Hidden weapons should always be poisoned," Su Qian nodded. "Besides, there's an antidote."

"Antidote my ass! Do you think Brother Xiao's heart meridian can withstand another dose of your poison? Even if I chopped you up and fed you to him, it might not be fast enough!" Ranting in my rage, my breath had nearly stopped when I saw that blue-glinting broken dagger on the table earlier, terrified to imagine the consequences if the hidden weapon hadn't been intercepted.

Su Qian stood up from her chair: "The White Pavilion Master's heart meridian is damaged to that extent?"

"If Chen Jiaozhu hadn't transferred all her cultivation to Brother Xiao back then, protecting that last flicker of life, he wouldn't have made it back," I glared at her. These were details I'd pieced together over the years from Xiao Huan and others.

Xiao Huan always downplayed it, but the brutality of that battle could only be learned from others.

I heard it from Zhong Lin—a duel spanning thousands of miles, repeatedly teetering between life and death. By the end, his blood was nearly drained, his heart meridian hanging by a thread. Chen Luomo stood at the edge of a thousand-foot cliff and asked him what he wanted to do once it was all over. He just smiled and said two words: "The capital." So Chen Luomo channeled all her power, using her Yin-cold Inner Force to suppress the extreme Yang energy in Xiao Huan's body, preserving that last unbroken thread of his heart meridian, sustaining his life to this day.

Su Qian's expression had changed: "Did you argue with the White Pavilion Master again today?"I was instantly furious. "Chief Hall Master Su, you sent all the assassins away and just stood there watching the Escort Battalion fight right in front of you. How could it not be noisy?"

Su Qian's expression had already returned to its usual icy demeanor after the initial change. "Fine. If anything happens to the White Pavilion Master, I'll atone with my life."

Hearing this made my vision darken further. "Enough! Even if it comes to life and death devotion, it's not your turn. Don't take advantage of the situation!" I sighed. "It should still be alright. Last year, when Li Mingshang went to Yunnan to search for medicine, he said before leaving that things would remain stable for the next five years."

"No amount of stability can withstand your antics!" Su Qian said expressionlessly. "Tell me, why are you really angry with the White Pavilion Master this time?"

How did this turn into her interrogating me? After a pause, I replied, "I don't know."

Why was I angry? It wasn't clear.

On the surface, it seemed to be because of Qi Chengliang's matter—blaming him for being too ruthless and not considering past ties, which made me leave the Forbidden City with a heavy heart. But there must have been other reasons too. The helplessness and fear that had been accumulating day by day since his illness this time, the dread that every moment I saw him might be the last. The first thought that crossed my mind when Zhang Zhuduan revealed that Xiao Huan was the one investigating Qi Chengliang wasn't shock, nor was it indignation on Qi Chengliang's behalf. Instead, it was a vague thought: such drastic and hasty reforms—was he making preparations for the future? This haze lingered until I returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation and saw him waiting for me under the lamplight. Yet, I didn’t dare let him notice anything amiss, didn’t dare ask. What if the answer was yes? What then?

Back when I bid him farewell at Tianshan, just having him linger in my sight for an extra moment felt like enough. Later, when he finally returned, every day was filled with boundless joy, as if I were walking on clouds—not even my dreams had been so perfect.

Eight years is a long time, long enough to be a luxury. Yet even such a long eight years still wasn’t enough—not even close.

During those two days, my mind was never at peace, growing increasingly chaotic until I found an excuse to let everything out. In a panic, I sent the children to the Phoenix Come Pavilion and rushed off to find him, only to run into Duan Jingxue. Someone I’d never paid much attention to before suddenly seemed unbearably irritating at that moment. Perhaps Duan Jingxue was right—maybe I really was jealous. Anger surged to my head, and before I knew it, I’d spoken words I couldn’t take back. Even as I left, I deluded myself into thinking that taking the children away would give him a couple of peaceful days to rest.

"The White Pavilion Master came by," Su Qian said after a silence. "He came the day after you moved into the pavilion. That day, he met with me and said your body hadn’t fully recovered after childbirth and still needed recuperation. He gave many instructions about dietary precautions."

She sighed as she spoke. "I won’t comment on your affairs, but don’t bottle things up. You’re not the type who can hold things in anyway. If you keep it all pent up, it’ll only hurt more when it all comes out."

I forced a smile at her. "How kind of you. Just when Brother Xiao finally took the initiative to solve the puzzle with me, giving me a way to save face, you had to go and do this. Now I’m really at a loss for how to find another way out..."

Su Qian rolled her eyes. "With a face as thick as yours, why do you even need a way out?""Even the thickest-skinned person would find it more comfortable with a way out!" I yelled at her angrily in frustration.

As we were arguing, a dark figure burst through the door, calling out urgently the moment they entered: "Cang Cang? Is Cang Cang here?"

The voice was clear and bright, belonging to the handsome Hong Qing dressed in official robes.

I was momentarily stunned, about to ask why he'd come alone without Ying, when he quickly grabbed my sleeve: "His Majesty collapsed in the Hall of Mental Cultivation after leaving the moon-viewing banquet. Cang Cang, you—"

I didn't hear the rest. I was already rushing out of the room.

My head buzzed incessantly as I galloped from Phoenix Come Pavilion to Xuanwu Gate, then dismounted and ran all the way to the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Without pausing to catch my breath, I grabbed Feng Wufu standing by the warm chamber entrance: "Where's Brother Xiao? How is Brother Xiao?"

Feng Wufu looked slightly confused, then immediately frowned: "Shh! Keep your voice down. His Majesty just rested a moment ago."

"How could Brother Xiao collapse? Have the imperial physicians come? What did they say?" The questions poured out before I calmed down slightly. Seeing Feng Wufu's still-puzzled expression, realization suddenly struck: "Brother Xiao didn't collapse?"

Giving me a reproachful look, Feng Wufu said: "If you make a fuss like this a few more times, His Majesty will collapse from the noise even if he wasn't ill before. You have less decorum than newly arrived palace maids—what kind of behavior is this shouting?"

That Hong Qing actually dared to lie to me!

Only when the tension left me did I notice my limbs felt weak. Releasing Feng Wufu's sleeve, I lowered my voice: "Has Brother Xiao gone to sleep?"

"How could he sleep now? He just bathed and is resting his eyes." Feng Wufu spoke while giving me another reproving glance. "Isn't General Qi's matter enough? Can't you let His Majesty have some peace?"

Another lecture. I could only sigh: "Alright, alright, enough from all of you. I admit I was wrong, okay?"

As if surprised by my admission, Feng Wufu looked slightly uncomfortable before saying after a pause: "Not that it's entirely your fault. If only your temper weren't so impulsive."

He hesitated before continuing: "About the matter of Miss Duan... I meant to tell Her Majesty the Empress outside the palace days ago. The first time Miss Duan entered the palace, Minister Duan personally came to my residence to request the favor—it was impossible to refuse. When she entered the palace the second time, Minister Duan brought a memorial to the Hall of Mental Cultivation that morning but left with it shortly after. Then in the afternoon, His Majesty issued an oral decree summoning Miss Duan for an audience. The intricacies of this matter are beyond my station to question. But for Her Majesty to suspect His Majesty over this, even leaving the palace in anger and taking Their Highnesses and the little princess away—that was truly too willful!"

By the last sentences, Feng Wufu couldn't keep the sternness from his voice.

Having served Xiao Huan since before his ascension, attending to his daily life, Feng Wufu—though sometimes cunning and greedy—was unquestionably loyal and caring, almost like a senior family member. Over these years, he'd scolded me as frankly as any elder.

"I know, I won't do it again, alright?" I sighed in concession before asking, "Is Brother Xiao in the Eastern Warm Chamber?"

Feng Wufu nodded, adding: "Be quiet when entering. His Majesty rarely gets to rest like this.""Alright, alright, I'll make sure he gets enough sleep tonight, okay?" I quickly assured her as I hurried to open the door.

The room was quiet inside. Carefully closing the door behind me, I tiptoed in but didn't dare get too close, stopping some distance away from the daybed.

Taking a deep breath, I thought—since I was already here, and as Su Qian said, my face was thick enough to not need any excuses.

He was asleep, a pale blue thin blanket draped over his legs. His hair was loose, still damp from his bath. His eyes were closed, his breathing light, the faint glow of the candle casting soft shadows across his face.

That familiar face—unchanged over the years, so vivid I could trace it with my eyes closed.

Suddenly, I remembered that time long ago in the One Water Courtyard of Phoenix Come Pavilion in Jinling. I had shot him with a gun, then accidentally barged into his room and saw him asleep by the bedside.

Looking back now, I almost admire my younger self—standing there motionless for so long, even though just one more step would have sent me rushing to embrace him.

The thought made me want to laugh at myself: I truly brought this suffering upon myself. Life was too peaceful and perfect, so I had to stir up trouble. And now, with such beauty right before me, all I could do was stare.

I inched silently to the corner of the daybed and carefully sat down.

He didn't stir. Keeping my eyes on his face, I sat there quietly for a while longer before mustering the courage to lean over, take his hand—resting outside the blanket—and gently press my lips to his pale ones.

He shifted slightly and finally woke. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, met mine as he murmured in a low voice, "Cang Cang?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I lowered my head, clasping his hand in both of mine, then looked up into his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Brother Xiao."

All these years, I had never truly apologized to him while looking into his eyes. I always assumed some things didn't need saying—that he would understand. Like how I had never stopped loving him, or how I regretted every time I hurt him. I stubbornly believed he wasn't open enough, ignoring the hands he extended to me time and again, while never considering whether I had expressed myself clearly.

"I'm sorry," I said, holding his gaze. "Everything I said was out of anger. I never thought you would use your own well-being to threaten me. I hit your hand at the moon-viewing banquet earlier—I was so terrified something might happen to you that I lost my mind. I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. These past few days, I couldn't even bring myself to look at you, not knowing how to say it. I'm sorry, Brother Xiao." Just apologizing made my vision blur with tears. "I'm sorry..."

His slightly cool hand brushed my cheek lightly, his voice as gentle as ever. "It's alright, Cang Cang. I know."

The moment I heard his words, the weight that had been pressing on me for days seemed to lift instantly. Moving faster than thought, I threw my arms around him, burying my face in the collar of his robe. Drawing in a long breath, I felt tears stream down my cheeks, soaking into the fabric over his chest."Brother Xiao, I'm sorry..." Clutching him tightly, tears still streaming down, I kept saying, "I left you alone and walked away. You held my hand and called for me, but I didn't even look back, just kept walking... I'm sorry..."

"Cang Cang, don't worry." Holding my shoulders, he gently stroked my head and back, pausing for a moment. "What I wanted to say when I held your hand was... don't worry, I'm fine."

Still holding me, he lifted my face to look at him and smiled. "Cang Cang, I'm really okay. Don't cry."

With tears still on my face, I stared blankly at him.

He continued to smile gently, gazing at me as if letting out a soft sigh. Using his thumb, he wiped away the tears at the corner of my eye. "You don't need to keep saying sorry..." He smiled again. "I should be the one apologizing, Cang Cang. I made you worry..."

My eyes welled up once more, but I didn't let the tears fall this time. Instead, I raised the corners of my mouth high and threw myself back into his embrace.

Never had I felt more relaxed and content than at this moment. I lifted my face from his embrace and suddenly remembered: "Brother Xiao, what did Duan Jingxue's father use to threaten you?"

He didn't expect me to ask this and paused briefly before smiling. "Just a tedious memorial about etiquette. If I didn't want the trouble of dealing with his petition, I had to meet his daughter."

"Was it about accusing me of violating palace regulations?" I pressed. Over the years, my frequent trips through the Xuanwu Gate to Phoenix Come Pavilion, no matter how discreet, had given those nosy Ministry of Rites officials plenty of ammunition. I knew they'd long wanted to impeach me, but I hadn't expected old man Duan Qingsu to use this to force Xiao Huan to meet his daughter.

He smiled again but remained silent this time, merely stroking my hair gently.

I'd said before that no one had ever coerced him. Though he appeared gentle, he detested being forced the most. All these years, even when facing Chen Luomo as an enemy, he had always taken the initiative. This meeting with Duan Jingxue, however, was forced upon him—to prevent the Ministry of Rites officials from collectively attacking me, he had to meet someone unnecessary. That day, the moment Duan Jingxue left, he couldn't help but show exhaustion. He was clearly tired, yet he still kept up pleasantries with her.

Slowly tightening my arms around him, I pressed my ear against his chest.

The rare tranquility was broken by approaching footsteps. Shi Yan's voice came from the doorway: "Your Majesty, General Qi has arrived."

Xiao Huan's body tensed slightly in my arms before he spoke: "Ask General Qi to wait in the rear hall."

Shi Yan acknowledged softly and headed to the rear hall.

I released him, removed the thin blanket covering him, and helped him sit up. "Do you need to change clothes?"

He shook his head, then smiled. "Just pass me that flute over there."

A well-worn bamboo flute lay on a nearby table. I picked it up and found a dark blue cloak to drape over his shoulders.

Holding the flute, he looked down at me with a smile and took my hand. "Cang Cang, come with me."

Unsure of his intentions, I nodded and clasped his hand as we walked out together.

Rounding the corridor with Xiao Huan, I looked up to see a set of stone table and chairs amidst a sea of blooming orchids in the rear hall, like stars scattered across the night.

Under the silvery moonlight of mid-autumn, the stone table was set with wine and dishes. Before it stood a warrior in plain clothes, steady as a mountain, who raised his wine jug toward us with a grin. "Xiao's here? Did you bring your flute?"

"How could I dare forget when Brother Qi asks?" Xiao Huan chuckled softly, leading me slowly toward the table.

Qi Chengliang's lips curled into a smile, his face displaying an uncharacteristic ease.

Shedding his usual sternness and deference, he no longer resembled the renowned general who had spent half his life on battlefields, but rather a wandering hero of the Martial World awaiting an old friend under the moonlight.

As we approached the table, Xiao Huan smiled. "With the moon and wine, it's perfect for meeting a gentleman. But what tune would Brother Qi like to hear tonight?"

Qi Chengliang laughed heartily. "Since when did you become a court musician, Xiao? Since when do I get to request songs?"Although I had considered the possibility that Qi Chengliang and Xiao Huan knew each other long ago, I didn’t expect him to suddenly crack such a joke. Stunned, I let out a confused, “Huh?”

Hearing my voice, Qi Chengliang turned his gaze toward me and smiled at Xiao Huan. “Xiao, is this the little girl you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Xiao Huan replied with a smile. “This is the girl I told you about, Brother Qi.” Still holding my hand, he turned to look at me. “Cang Cang, this is my good friend, Brother Qi. I’m introducing him to you for the first time today.”

Their tone and demeanor were so relaxed and natural, as if I truly were meeting Qi Chengliang for the first time.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like we had returned to those carefree days of roaming the Martial World in fine furs and swift steeds—Xiao Huan still the easygoing young man with a gentle smile, and I still the impulsive little girl just starting her journey in the Martial World. Following etiquette, I clasped my fists toward Qi Chengliang. “Greetings, Brother Qi.”

Qi Chengliang chuckled and nodded. “No need for formalities, little sister-in-law. And Xiao, don’t just stand there—both of you, sit down.”

Xiao Huan smiled. “Of course.” He pulled me down to sit with him on the wooden stools by the stone table.

Once seated, I noticed three large, rough ceramic cups filled with wine on the table. Finally snapping back to reality, I quickly spoke up, “Brother Xiao can’t drink! Let me take his place!”

Qi Chengliang burst into laughter. “I’m not trying to force your Brother Xiao to drink, little girl. Why are you so nervous?”

Only then did I realize Qi Chengliang wouldn’t deliberately make things difficult for Xiao Huan. Feeling awkward, I mumbled, “Well… I just got nervous without thinking…”

Qi Chengliang laughed heartily. “Xiao, this little girl cares about you a lot.”

Xiao Huan patted my head and smiled. “It’s alright, Cang Cang.”

I nodded and leaned slightly toward him as he and Qi Chengliang began chatting casually—discussing military strategy, martial arts, poetry, and literature, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

Time slipped by unnoticed as they talked, the moon climbing to its zenith. Qi Chengliang drank cup after cup, his eyes growing brighter with each sip, his demeanor increasingly unrestrained and free-spirited. Xiao Huan kept him company, and the large cup of strong liquor in front of him gradually emptied.

After downing another cup in one go, Qi Chengliang set it down with a resonant clink. His eyes half-lidded, a tipsy expression crossed his face. “Xiao, the hour is almost upon us. Play me a tune.”

I had almost forgotten until he mentioned it—Qi Chengliang’s entire clan was to be exiled, and the departure was scheduled for the sixteenth day of the eighth month. Prisoners sentenced to exile were usually escorted out of the capital at dawn when the city gates opened. The night was already deep, and less than two hours remained until daybreak.

After a brief pause, Xiao Huan smiled wordlessly and raised the bamboo flute he had been holding to his lips.

A melody as fluid as a stream slowly poured from the flute—serene, distant, and profoundly elegant, reverberating under the moonlight.

The moment the music began, Qi Chengliang seemed momentarily stunned. Then, he began tapping the stone table lightly with his hand, matching the rhythm of the tune.

The tranquil, deep melody—like a mirror-smooth river under the moon—suddenly shifted, as if a thousand miles of rushing water had turned sharply and surged into a gorge, its roaring waves howling like the wind.

Keeping time with his hand, Qi Chengliang murmured in a low voice:

*Long unseen, the southern troops they slight,

Claiming the north has no heroes left in sight.

Yet here stands one who, single-handed, might

Restore the glory of ten thousand in fight.

Laugh at myself, envoy of a mighty state,

Like the grand river that eastward flows straight.

Once more to the barbarian tents I bow,

But soon to their capital we’ll ride now.*The music grew more urgent, and Qi Chengliang's recitation came through the night, gradually forming a melody, passionate as a song: "In the lands of Yao and Shun, the domains of Yu, there should be one or two who feel shame serving the barbarians. The stench of blood stretches for miles—where are the heroic spirits of ages past? When will their grandeur be restored? The fate of the northern tribes need not be asked, for the blazing sun will rise again."

This was a Shui Diao Ge Tou , the lyrics composed by Chen Liang of the Song Dynasty. The poet was bidding farewell to a friend about to serve as an envoy to the Jin Kingdom. At that time, the Southern Song Dynasty was in decline, suffering under the oppression of foreign tribes. Yet the poem contained not a single word of sorrow or self-pity, only the heroic spirit of defending home and country, soaring and sweeping through the air.

As the song ended, Xiao Huan set down his bamboo flute and coughed softly.

Qi Chengliang closed his eyes and remained silent. After a long while, he opened them and spoke, but this time to me: "Young lady, Xiao Huan and I met fifteen years ago." He smiled and continued, "Back then, I was still a deputy general in Cangzhou, filled with book knowledge but stuck drilling a ragtag group of old soldiers in a camp of fewer than two thousand men. So I often went to the nearby town to drink myself into a stupor. That day, half-drunk, I vaguely heard someone beside me playing Shui Diao Ge Tou . Without thinking, I recited the poem you just heard in response. Strangely enough, the flute player, upon hearing my recitation, abruptly changed the tune, turning the melody into something fierce and martial. When the music stopped, I hurried to find the player, only to discover a young man in blue robes sitting in a carriage outside the window. He smiled at me, holding a flute in one hand, with a medicine box beside him."

At this point, Qi Chengliang laughed again: "It’s funny to think about now, but my first thought back then was to take this young man as my sworn brother. Luckily, I held back, afraid of scaring him, and never brought it up. That day, I bought him drinks and kept him talking. He told me his name was Xiao Yuncong, so I called him Xiao Yun. He stayed in Cangzhou for over ten days running a free clinic, and we drank and talked every day. Over the next few years, we met from time to time. Later, when I was transferred to Fuzhou, Xiao Yun even made a special trip to see me off. It wasn’t until the eighth year of Virtuous Blessing, when I was appointed to guard Shanhai Pass and saw the person seated on the Imperial Throne in the Qianqing Palace, that I realized who had been behind my smooth career all these years."

Hearing this, I interjected, "Brother Xiao would never promote you just because he knew you well."

Qi Chengliang smiled, a hint of pride flashing between his brows: "I believe in my own ability—that I can lead troops as well as any famed general. I also believe Xiao Yun has the discernment to recognize talent and would never abuse personal connections, treating matters of state as child’s play. Besides, what if I did rise to command through personal ties? If it takes personal connections to serve the country and the people, then so be it. What of it?"

There had long been rumors that Qi Chengliang was skilled at befriending court officials, often using large sums of silver to win over those in power. That was why, for over a decade, no matter where he was stationed, he never faced the common conflicts between military officers and local governors.

I had seen many who clung stubbornly to so-called integrity and reputation, only to meet obstacles everywhere, achieve nothing, and end up blaming heaven and earth. But Qi Chengliang broke free from such constraints. While compromising with the realities of officialdom, he never forgot his original purpose. Even after being dismissed, he left behind outstanding achievements but no personal wealth. Such a man lived openly and brilliantly.I smiled and cupped my hands in salute. "Brother Qi, with those words of yours, all the efforts of Phoenix Come Pavilion these past days have been more than worth it."

Qi Chengliang also laughed. "All I've said is just to tell you—don't blame Xiao Huan anymore for my sake." He looked at me as he spoke. "These past few days in the Imperial Prison, the friends who took care of me—please thank them for me. Without them, I might have shed a layer of skin." He paused, then chuckled. "But then again, I don’t believe it either. Since ancient times, prisoners whom the emperor goes to great lengths to reduce charges for and carefully hides in a private prison—how much suffering could they really endure in there?"

I laughed along with him. It should have been clear these past days. Xiao Huan had been doing everything possible to lessen Qi Chengliang’s punishment. The initial charges submitted would have been enough to warrant the execution of Qi Chengliang’s entire family. If Xiao Huan had turned a blind eye back then, Qi Chengliang would have been beyond saving. Yet, in the many days after the memorial was submitted, Xiao Huan had still been working tirelessly day and night—not to gather more charges against Qi Chengliang, but to find ways to exonerate him.

And yet, at that time, I had gone to question him, even coldly mocked him, and turned away without a second thought.

Under the table, I gently took Xiao Huan’s cold hand in mine and looked up at Qi Chengliang with a smile. "Don’t worry, I won’t anymore."

"That’s good." Qi Chengliang laughed, his tone bright and half-joking. "After I leave, I’ll entrust Xiao Huan to your care."

"I will not fail this heavy responsibility!" I replied with a smile.

Qi Chengliang stood with a laugh and looked up at the full moon in the sky. "The song ends, the guests depart. Xiao Huan, let us bid farewell here."

Xiao Huan also stood and cupped his hands. "Brother Qi, may your journey be smooth. Farewell."

Qi Chengliang gave a slight bow, flicked his sleeve, and walked away without looking back.

Shi Yan was still waiting under the corridor. Seeing Qi Chengliang approach, he took out shackles and fastened them on him before leading him away.

Once their figures disappeared, I continued holding Xiao Huan’s hand and looked up at him with a smile. "Brother Xiao, there’s still court tomorrow morning. Let’s go rest soon."

He nodded lightly but then coughed, his body trembling slightly.

I quickly steadied him. "Brother Xiao!"

He shook his head, steadied himself against my arm, and gave me a faint smile. "It’s nothing, Cang Cang."

Under the moonlight, his smile remained gentle, but his face was as pale as snow.

I had almost forgotten—forgotten how fiercely protective he was.

Back in Phoenix Come Pavilion, when a few disciples were killed, he had ventured out late at night to destroy Seven No Dock, which had plagued the Yangtze for years. No matter how dangerous the task, he always went himself. For those he deemed worth protecting, he would always stand at the forefront, never allowing any harm to come to them.

This time, though Qi Chengliang had never uttered a single word of complaint, it was Xiao Huan himself who had investigated and exiled a once-close old friend.

Smiling, I glanced at the bamboo flute still in his hand. "Do you use this flute often, or the one you gave to Duan Jingxue?"

He paused slightly, then laughed. "That flute…"

"Tell me," I frowned, feigning interrogation. "How many times have you used that flute? No lying!"

"That flute looked nice, didn’t it? Xiangfei bamboo from Suzhou tribute. Wufu placed it on the desk just to take up space." He coughed lightly and laughed, looking at me."So you've never played it before?" A bit surprised by this answer, I suddenly remembered that the bamboo flute in Duan Jingxue's hand that day looked unfamiliar. The one he held today was his usual instrument—much plainer in appearance but a well-used old companion.

I hadn't paid attention before. Ever since I learned eight years ago that he could play the flute, whenever his health permitted, I would often pester him to play a tune for me. Besides, back then, Yun Zixin—who knows what he was thinking—insisted on making him strike that elegant pose while playing the cotton gin. Holding the flute would have looked just as good...

Hugging his arm, I couldn't help but complain, "It's been so long since you played for me. Don't blame me for being jealous!"

He was still smiling when I added, "Never mind today. Get some rest quickly!"

There was an early court session on the sixteenth of August, but I quietly got up before Xiao Huan woke. His eyes remained closed, undisturbed by my movements.

He had always been a light sleeper. My restless habits—tossing, turning, and stealing the blankets—would often wake him at night.

But since regaining consciousness this time, his energy hadn't fully recovered, and his sleep had been deeper than usual. Today was no exception; he had been sleeping soundly since yesterday.

Leaning down, I gently kissed his lips before stepping out to wake Jiao Yan, who was sleeping in the outer chamber, informing her that Xiao Huan was still asleep. After a quick and quiet wash, I left the Hall of Mental Cultivation and walked along the passageway out of the palace.

I had already seen off Qi Chengliang the night before, but there was someone else I needed to bid farewell to.

Galloping through the early morning streets, I dismounted at the city gate and stood before the crowd of prisoners surrounded by soldiers. After showing the prepared token, I pushed through the outer crowd, searching.

Aside from Qi Chengliang's relatives, the exiles included families of other disgraced military officers—nearly a thousand people in total. Stripped of their wealth overnight, most wore numb expressions, huddled together in silence. After struggling past several groups, I finally spotted a familiar figure beside a dilapidated carriage.

"Lianming!" I called out excitedly, rushing over to grasp her shoulders.

In just a few days, her rosy cheeks had turned pale. She glanced at me indifferently. "You're here."

"Elder Sister Wu," I hesitated, unsure what to say, then spoke after a pause, "I came to see you off."

"See me off?" She laughed suddenly, a hint of mockery in her voice. "Last time, when I left the Forbidden Palace, it was you who saw me off. Now, as I leave the capital, here you are again."

"Elder Sister Wu..." I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

"Why apologize?" Her tone was flat. "You're not the one who should be sorry. If the ruler demands a subject's death, the subject has no choice but to comply. Besides, I'm not dead—just exiled to the frontier. What is there to apologize for?"

"Elder Sister Wu, you can't blame Brother Xiao entirely. He also—" Her words clearly carried resentment, and I rushed to defend him, only to choke on my words—what about him? He knew Qi Chengliang was innocent. He knew the fate that awaited the families of the condemned. Yet he still orchestrated it all.

"I'm sorry." That was all I could say. "Elder Sister Wu, I'm so sorry...""The lady is dead," Wu Lianming said indifferently, her tone flat. "She was never in the best of health, and her pride was too great. Locked in a cell, she fell into madness within days, refusing food or water. She died last night."

Qi Chengliang's wife was dead? Staring blankly at Wu Lianming, I couldn't utter a word.

"I often think that I can't blame anyone for how my life turned out," Wu Lianming continued. "Whether it was entering the palace or falling in love with His Majesty, those were paths I chose myself. The first time I saw His Majesty in the imperial gardens, I realized for the first time that some men could smile so gently. I desperately tried to stand out, heedless of the envy it might provoke, until one day, after being surrounded and berated by several junior consorts, I received the summons to his chambers. I was nearly delirious with joy—not because I could finally hold my head high, but because I thought his eyes would finally see me. But that entire night, beyond a few sparse words of idle conversation after we met, nothing else happened. It was all to lend me prestige. When I stepped out of the Hall of Mental Cultivation that morning, I understood—his eyes would never hold me. Such a gentle man, he would feign favor to shield me from the bullying of other consorts, but his heart would never have a place for me.

"After realizing this, I did many foolish things—things that should have made survival in the harem impossible. Deliberately provoking you in front of the Empress Dowager was one of them.

"In those days, I couldn’t care less whom I offended or what would become of me. All I could do was repeat to myself, over and over: Why wouldn’t he love me? Why couldn’t I reach his heart? Would he even remember my name, beyond pitying me? Day after day, I nearly drove myself mad with these thoughts.

"In the end, I suppose I should thank you. If you hadn’t snapped me out of it, I don’t know how much longer I would have stayed that way. That day, covered in mud, kneeling before you, I thought—perhaps this is fate. Some people are born to stand tall, radiant and untroubled, while others are meant for obscurity. Even if they manage to step into the spotlight for a moment, they’ll be forgotten in the blink of an eye.

"So from that day on, I stopped asking, stopped hoping. I only wished to endure in silence and survive in the palace. Who knew I’d still offended someone I shouldn’t have? In the end, De Fei pushed me forward as a scapegoat, and I was demoted to a maidservant. My father had pinned his hopes on my favor, dreaming of bringing glory to our family. When he heard the news, he fell ill from anger and resigned within two months, retiring to the countryside without even sending word to me in the palace. When I finally learned of this, I nearly threw myself into a well. Toiling daily under scornful gazes, even my own parents had abandoned me—what was the point of living?

"But in the end, I didn’t die. As long as one lives, death isn’t so easily sought. Day by day, I endured, believing even the hardest times must eventually pass.

"And they did. My time came. I left the palace and, before desperation could take hold, met my husband. To encounter such an understanding and kind lady—it was a blessing I wouldn’t have dared dream of in the Forbidden Palace."At this point, she gradually smiled and raised her head to look at me: "But in the end, I wasn't destined for such good fortune. Everything is gone now—like waking from a dream after one night's sleep, nothing remains, not even a trace."

"No, Sister Wu," I quickly grasped her hand as I saw a profound despair in her eyes. "I managed to intercept you from the exile procession. You won't have to suffer in Liangzhou anymore."

"Suffering?" She looked at me with a faint smile and asked in return, "What is suffering? Does being sheltered from wind and sun, clothed in silks and satins mean one isn't suffering? Return with you? For what? So you can find someone else to entrust me to?" She laughed with quiet sarcasm, "I don't even know if my husband took care of me only because the Emperor asked him to. Must I be entrusted to someone again?" Shaking her head, she continued, "I am a person, not a piece of goods to be placed anywhere."

She withdrew her hand from mine and shook her head, "Go. You owe me nothing."

"Sister Wu!" I wanted urgently to say something more, but at that moment the prisoner convoy began to move. The large, disorderly procession, guarded by soldiers with spears, started slowly advancing. The carriage carrying Wu Lianming was also driven forward by the coachman.

Amid the swaying of the old carriage, Wu Lianming glanced up at me once before looking away, never turning back again.

As if nailed to the ground, I watched numbly as her carriage moved away, watching the elderly, weak, women, and children struggle past me. Even when the last of the guards impatiently asked if I had any official business left, I remained motionless.

Having lingered outside too long, it was nearly noon by the time I returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Xiao Huan had already finished court and was meticulously reviewing memorials. Seeing me, he coughed lightly and smiled, "You're back?"

Still somewhat dazed, I went over and sat close beside him, murmuring, "Mmm."

He paused slightly before asking further, "Cang Cang, what did you do this morning?"

Still distracted, I answered absently, "I went to see Wu Lianming off."

Silence fell on his side. After a while, he asked softly, "How is she?"

"Qi Chengliang's wife died..." I shook my head, suddenly unwilling to continue. "Brother Xiao, what's right and what's wrong—it's getting harder and harder to tell, isn't it?"

He remained quiet, then smiled faintly, "Cang Cang, I'm sorry."

Staring at him blankly, I suddenly understood and laughed, "I don't know how many times I said 'I'm sorry' to Wu Lianming just now. Today, we can compete to see who apologizes more."

He chuckled lightly, "In that case, I must be far behind? It won't be easy to catch up."

"No, not easy at all," I agreed, reaching for his hand. "Never mind that—I'm starving. Let's eat first!"

He nodded with a smile, but as soon as he stood up, he suddenly braced himself against the table.

I quickly turned and steadied him. Eyes closed, he pressed a hand to his chest and coughed softly a few times before opening his eyes with a smile. "Just a bit dizzy. It's nothing."

His face was deathly pale, and he called it nothing? Anger threatened to rise again. I glanced at the pile of unread memorials on his desk. "After eating, don't even think about working. Come with me to Phoenix Come Pavilion—we can bring the little ones back while we're at it."

Still coughing, he laughed, "When the master commands, this servant can only obey."

He was quicker to comply these days—knew what was good for him. I snorted in satisfaction.

After lunch, I forced him to nap for over an hour before we headed to Phoenix Come Pavilion together.

The three little ones went wild at the sight of Xiao Huan, clinging to him so tightly they couldn't be pried off.I thought I could find some peace in the Phoenix Come Pavilion, but who knew those three little troublemakers would turn everything upside down. What’s worse, while I was losing my patience with these brats, Xiao Huan remained as composed as ever, smiling with effortless grace, which only made me glare at him in frustration.

After an entire afternoon of chaos, it wasn’t until we returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation in the evening that I could finally escape those three uncontrollable little devils.

After a relaxing bath, I had Xiao Huan recline on the soft couch while I dried his hair for him.

Every time we bathed together, I insisted on combing his hair afterward. I’d let him lean back on the couch, carefully drying his long, ink-black hair with an absorbent cotton towel, then combing it smooth before loosely tying it with a silk ribbon and letting it fall over his chest. The whole process took nearly an hour.

As usual, Xiao Huan smiled faintly, flipping through some documents while letting me fuss over him.

Today was no different. After finishing the final step, I let out a long sigh of relief, then hopped off the couch and circled around to face him. After scrutinizing my handiwork from all angles, I nodded repeatedly in self-praise. “Perfect, absolutely perfect. My skills are simply flawless. It’d be even more perfect if I could just take my male concubine to the Golden Luan Hall like this.”

Long accustomed to my nonsense, he set down the memorial in his hand and chuckled softly. “Should I attend court like this tomorrow, then?”

“No, no!” I shook my head, pretending to consider it seriously. “The Golden Luan Hall is too crowded. If all those people see such a beautiful male concubine, they might try to steal you from me!”

Just as we were joking around, Feng Wufu hurried in through the door, followed by an Imperial Bodyguard dressed entirely in black.

The bodyguard strode forward and knelt on one knee. “Your Majesty.”

“No need for formalities, Chengxiang.” Xiao Huan sat up and smiled. “How is General Qi doing?”

The bodyguard named Chengxiang paused but remained kneeling. “Reporting to Your Majesty, this subordinate failed in his duty. This afternoon, General Qi’s concubine, Lady Wu, hanged herself outside the courier station.”

A buzzing filled my ears as I blurted out, “What? Who? Who hanged herself?”

“General Qi’s concubine, Lady Wu,” the bodyguard repeated, still bowing his head.

Wu Lianming had taken her own life. The despair in her eyes when she left yesterday—she had truly made the most drastic decision she could. My throat tightened as if gripped by an invisible hand, and for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe.

“Arrange for her proper burial,” Xiao Huan spoke after a brief silence, his voice as calm as ever. “Bury her with the honors of an Imperial Order Lady.”

Clasping his fist in acknowledgment, the bodyguard hesitated before adding, “Your Majesty, Lady Wu left behind a suicide note. She said there were four words she wished to convey to you.”

Xiao Huan nodded. “Go ahead.”

“The four words Lady Wu left for Your Majesty are…” The bodyguard paused before continuing, “‘Your grace is unbearable.’”

Snapping out of my initial shock, I quickly turned to look at Xiao Huan.

He gave a slight nod, then smiled. “Understood. Chengxiang, you may withdraw.”

My eyes remained fixed on him, afraid to look away. I called out urgently, “Brother Xiao!”

Without turning to me, the faint smile still lingered on his lips. Then, he coughed lightly, quickly covering his mouth with his hand as he bent forward slightly. Bright red blood trickled between his fingers and dripped onto his sleeve.