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She raised her head and drained the cup of wine just as she had done on New Year's Eve last year in Wutong Lane, with the same unhesitating boldness.

The fiery liquid slid down her throat, and soon, the intoxication began to rise. A delicate flush spread across her face, more captivating than the bright light behind her.

Rong Shu gazed down at the white jade cup in her hand, her fingers slowly tracing the rim.

Last year they shared a cup of Tusu wine in Wutong Lane, this year in the Purple Imperial Palace. But what about next year?

Would they still drink Tusu wine together?

She had never been much of a drinker, and Rong Shu knew that she should now be silent, returning to her bed for a good night's rest.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, she didn't want to move.

The words that had been repeatedly suppressed by her rational mind began to surface, one syllable at a time.

Rong Shu lifted her gaze and parted her lips.

Right then, there was a sudden clatter as the wine cup she had been playing with slipped from her hand and hit the ground, a few remaining drops of wine falling onto her fingertips, cool and damp.

A chill crept up Rong Shu's fingertips and into her mind, making her pause for a moment before she closed her lips again and reached out to help pick up the fallen wine cup.

Gu Changjin suddenly grasped her hand.

"Speak," he said, aware that she had something to tell him earlier, and even vaguely guessing what it might be.

Rong Shu abandoned the idea of retrieving the cup, lifting her gaze to meet his. Her moist eyes held a hint of intoxication.

They gazed at each other for a while.

Rong Shu said, "Gu Changjin, I should return to my bed."

But Gu Changjin refused to let go, instead pressing her hand into his palm. Leaning slowly towards her with a slight drunken glint in his eyes, he brushed his lips lightly against hers like a butterfly landing on water.

"Rong Zhaozhao, you're not allowed to retreat," he said in a hoarse voice.

As night fell, the snow grew heavier, blanketing the glazed tiles of the Kunning Palace with a thick layer of snowy silk.

Two senior palace maids carefully carried two lanterns from the outer hall into the inner chamber, asking softly, "Your Majesty, Ama Gui instructed us to light these two Buddha lamps. Should we place them by the window on the Buddhist altar, as we did last year?"

Empress Qi acknowledged with a soft "Mm," "Remember to close the wooden shutters on the windows, don't let the wind in."

Emperor Jia You was propped up on a small table by his bed, leisurely flipping through an imperial edict.

With her back turned to him, Empress Qi wore only a thin, frost-colored nightgown, without even an outer robe. The Kunning Palace had heated floors and charcoal braziers, so she wasn't cold in such little clothing.

Yet, Emperor Jia You's brow remained slightly furrowed. He got up, took a dark cloak from a huanghuali wood stand nearby, and draped it over Empress Qi.

Empress Qi was intently watching the palace maids arrange the Buddha lamps, and didn't notice the movement behind her until she felt the weight on her shoulders, signaling that Emperor Jia You had left his bed.

She quickly turned around and bowed gracefully, saying, "Your Majesty, please return to your bed. The floor is cold."

Emperor Jia You, however, did not return to his bed. Instead, he followed her previous gaze and looked towards the Buddhist altar.

There were several handwritten scriptures on it, along with an album of calligraphy with eight characters. Upon the album was a string of jade Buddha beads bracelet, which shimmered softly under the light of two Buddhist lamps.

Emperor Jia You recognized it as the bracelet that her mother had left for her – a treasure she cherished dearly and seldom took off.

After helping her drape the cloak over her shoulders, he went to the Buddhist altar and picked up the calligraphy album. Flipping it open, he saw that the eight characters indicated the sixth day of the fourth month in the second year of Jia You's reign.

It is... Princess Qingxi's birthday.

Emperor Jia You recalled Wen Xi's timid face in his mind and put down the horoscope paper without revealing any emotion.

Back when that child was ill, he had visited her in the side palace twice. Both times, she had been unconscious, leaving him with only a pale and frail image. Today at the family banquet, it was their first real encounter as father and daughter.

Perhaps because she had not grown up by his side or due to his innate emotional detachment, Emperor Jia You could not muster any feelings for Wen Xi beyond a faint sense of pity.

He took Empress Qi's hand and led her to the couch, saying warmly, "I've arranged everything for Qingxi. She won't be wronged. There's no need for you to worry."

Empress Qi lowered her eyes, and her long eyelashes cast a shadow over her fair eyelids.

After a moment, she softly replied, "This concubine thanks Your Majesty on behalf of Qingxi."

Emperor Jia You's gaze sharpened slightly. He held Empress Qi's chin, lifting her face to examine her expression closely.

Startled by his action, Empress Qi met his deep, impenetrable eyes. Immediately, she suppressed her emotions and spoke warmly, "What's the matter, Your Majesty?"

Time had been particularly kind to her.

Despite being over forty and a mother for more than two decades, her beauty remained untarnished. She was still the Qi Miss that countless young men in the capital had dreamed of all those years ago.

Emperor Jiayou released her chin and gently tucked her jet-black hair behind her ear. His rough fingertips softly caressed her earlobe.

Qi Zhen's breath hitched slightly as she called out again, "Your Majesty..."

Although this man had been born with a frail constitution, giving him an appearance of vulnerability compared to other men, Qi Zhen knew firsthand how vigorous he could be in private.

Despite Wang Dehai's desperate efforts to keep it hidden, she had caught wind of the emperor's recent coughing up blood in the Qianqing Palace a few months ago.

His current state of health could not afford any recklessness.

Qi Zhen placed her hand on his, stopping him from playing with her earlobe.

A hint of a smile gradually appeared on Emperor Jiayou's pale and gentle face. He still enjoyed seeing her like this.

"What are you, the Empress, thinking about?" The man's voice held a playful tone as he spoke with double meaning, "Go to sleep, don't indulge in wild thoughts."

Qi Zhen acknowledged him and tried to suppress her anxiety. She lay down beside him, closing her eyes.

Assuming she would be plagued by insomnia tonight, he was surprised when the man beside her drew her into his embrace and gently patted her back, lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

The palace chamber was illuminated by bright lanterns.

Only when the breaths of the woman at his side became slow and steady did Emperor Jiayou allow himself a slight sideways glance. Gazing at her sleeping face, a profound contemplation shone in his eyes.

Earlier that day, when he had granted that child a title, her smile had been present, but not a hint of genuine joy.