Chapter 33: Cry

Chapter 33: Wailing

When Qiao Wan came to, she felt herself pressed against someone's chest. The surroundings were eerily silent, so empty it was terrifying.

The dormant, fiery pain inside her body gradually awakened, tormenting her unbearably.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't open her eyes, trapped in endless darkness, unable to break free.

"Qiao Wan, would you rather die? Just because Jing Lan abandoned you?" An icy, venomous voice spoke by her ear, each word seethed with hatred, the tone hoarse and utterly unfamiliar.

But she could feel that the arms encircling her tightly, despite extreme restraint, were shaking faintly.

Then something was pressed against her lips—a cold, sticky liquid like a gurgling stream continuously flowing into her mouth, carrying a strong metallic taste.

Qiao Wan ached to open her eyes and fiercely curse the person saying these words.

She had no wish to die. She still had so many treasures, fine clothes, and jewels. She still wanted to leave Lingjing and enjoy a lifetime of wealth and luxury. If it weren't for the high likelihood of being choked to death, she would never have swallowed those foul-tasting medicine.

But she couldn't say a word, forced to endure the severe pain churning in her innards as she was made to gulp down mouthful after mouthful of blood.

"I refuse to grant you that wish," a shadowy voice whispered with a terrifying tenderness.

Qiao Wan didn't understand, only feeling the blood trickling into her mouth slow. The next moment, the sound of a dagger being unsheathed echoed, seemingly slicing open a new cut before being pressed to her lips.

Qiao Wan didn't know how much blood she had been forced to drink, but the burning pain in her organs slowly subsided, and she felt as if she were soaking in warm water.

Yet she still couldn't open her eyes.

Until frantic footsteps sounded outside the door, and Si Li's voice rang out: "Master, we brought a physician..." His voice trailed off, then he continued hoarsely, "Master, you mustn't harm yourself any further. Your body won't be able to take it."

So it really was that little beast Mu Chi.

Qiao Wan realized belatedly—he had actually saved her instead of killing her?

"Master Mu, please let the physician examine my royal sister first," a soft, worried voice chimed in from the side.

Qiao Wan couldn't help but roll her eyes inwardly.

So he was putting on a show of kindness in front of Qiao Qingni. After all, he was always expert at deception.

Someone seemed to kneel trembling before her and take her pulse. Then Qiao Wan felt her lips being pried open as a pill was fed to her.

The pill was extremely bitter. If she had been conscious, she would have vomited uncontrollably. But now, she could do nothing, gradually sinking back into nothingness and silence.

In her daze, Qiao Wan seemed to have another dream.

A familiar dungeon.

Unlike the last time, this dungeon was even darker.

There was no old man speaking, the skylight above the cell was sealed shut, and the cell door was locked with a heavy chain.

No light, no sound, only utter darkness.

Qiao Wan strained to open her eyes wide and inexplicably saw a youth quietly curled up in the pitch-black darkness.

She knew it was Mu Chi.

He looked to be around ten years old, with long, disheveled black hair and skin as pale as frost. His cheeks were gaunt, as if he hadn't had food or water for a long time, and he was trembling uncontrollably from the cold.

On his emaciated face, his eyes appeared unusually large, their gaze darker than the surrounding blackness, like ancient wells in an autumn pond. His long, thick lashes resembled palm leaves, and even at the corners of his eyes, a striking beauty was already evident.

Mu Chi sat alone, expressionless, unsure how long he had been there or when he would be able to leave.

But Qiao Wan couldn't bear such deathly loneliness. She struggled desperately, searching for an exit, but one day, two days...

She never managed to break free.

In the end, exhausted, she crouched in a corner, watching the still-young beast that was Mu Chi.

She seemed to see his life slowly draining away until his figure grew increasingly lifeless. He moved slightly, bringing his bloodied forearm to his lips, licking his own blood and swallowing it in large gulps.

His parched, pale lips were stained with a grotesque smear of blood, yet he seemed completely unaware.

Qiao Wan thought she had been foolish. She should have realized the first time she had this dream that this Mu Chi, who lived in darkness, could never have grown into such a gentle and kind man.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of chains clashing echoed at the cell door. A man fawned, "Your Highness, who would have thought that after being locked up for seven days and poisoned, this little monster is still alive?" He ordered someone to force a few antidote pills into Mu Chi's mouth and kicked the cell door hard. "Remember, next time you see His Highness, don't put on that dead-faced expression."

Qiao Wan looked toward the cell door and saw a youth dressed in black silk robes walk in, holding a palace lantern. He approached Mu Chi, looked down at him, and smiled. "How does it feel, royal brother?"

Qiao Wan's eyes snapped open, her breathing rapid. She finally broke free from the dream and woke up.

In the dream, the youth who had bent down to look at Mu Chi had a face strikingly similar to his.

Only, that youth was more rugged and brimming with malice, not as refined as Mu Chi.

Qiao Wan suddenly remembered the rumor Yicui had once mentioned—

When the Empress of Great Qi was giving birth, the celestial phenomena were abnormal. The Tianfu Star and the Ziwei Star appeared simultaneously, a sign of twin births.

But in the royal family, giving birth to twins was considered an extremely ominous sign. Fortunately, in the end, only one child was born, named Li Muxuan.

Li Muxuan, Mu Chi.

Was Mu Chi Li Muxuan's twin brother?

"Princess, you're finally awake," a hoarse female voice spoke at the door, tinged with sobs.

Qiao Wan turned her gaze and, upon seeing the familiar canopy above, realized she was in the princess's residence. Everything around her was intimately familiar, even the sandalwood incense in the burner remained unchanged.

Yicui, her eyes red-rimmed, walked to her bedside, holding a meal tray with a bowl of steaming dark medicinal soup and a bowl of clear honey syrup.

Yicui choked up. "Princess, you've been unconscious for five days."

Five days.

Qiao Wan weakly raised her hand—no wonder she felt completely drained.

"Don't move around," Yicui hurriedly sat by the bed, carefully helping her up and placing a soft pillow behind her back. She began feeding her the medicinal soup spoon by spoon.

The soup was intensely bitter, with a hint of blood.

Qiao Wan frowned in distaste and said weakly, "It's too awful."

"It's the physician's prescription. He said this will help you recover faster," Yicui explained, feeding her a spoonful of honey syrup. "This honey syrup was... given by those people."

"Those people?" Qiao Wan was puzzled.

"The ones monitoring us outside," Yicui said, her eyelashes trembling slightly with fear. "That guard named Si Li gave it."

Mu Chi's men were watching over the Princess's residence...

Qiao Wan frowned deeply: "Did they give you any trouble?"

Yicui shook her head: "They brought me back to the Princess's residence," she said, tears suddenly falling. "From now on, Princess, please don’t protect me like that anymore, Your Highness... I... I..."

"Enough," Qiao Wan smiled helplessly. "Aren’t I alive and well?"

She changed the subject: "What’s happening in the palace now?"

Yicui wiped her tears, set aside the empty medicine bowl, and continued feeding her spoonfuls of honeyed syrup: "The palace has been turned upside down. The Emperor has named the Seventh Prince as Crown Prince and granted him the Eastern Palace, but... everyone knows it’s just for show. The one truly in power is... is..."

"Mu Chi," Qiao Wan finished for her.

Yicui nodded.

But Qiao Wan frowned: "You mean... the Emperor is still alive?"

"Yes," Yicui nodded gently, looking at her hesitantly. "The servants are all saying that... that Mu Chi refrained from killing the emperor because he fears causing a rift with Princess Zhaoyang."

Qiao Wan listened calmly, thinking of her dream and recalling how she had heard that siblings from the same womb often share some kind of connection.

Now, it seemed truly so.

He adored Qiao Qingni, so he spared Qiao Heng.

Perhaps...

Qiao Wan laughed mockingly to herself—perhaps she was still alive thanks to Qiao Qingni.

Outside the bedchamber, Si Li had come to deliver that day’s medicine. Hearing the commotion inside, he paused, then turned and left silently...

*

Eastern Palace.

The newly crowned Crown Prince Qiao Yan and Right Minister Wen Xun sat to the side, watching Mu Chi, who lounged casually in the front seat.

His face was pale as death, unable to conceal the chilling aura he carried, as if he had broken into the human realm from the underworld. He idly traced the wound on his wrist, calm and detached.

Qiao Yan, impulsive after all, glanced at Wen Xun and spoke first: "Mu Chi, you shouldn’t hold back for the sake of personal feelings. If anything goes wrong, none of us will escape death."

Hearing this, Mu Chi didn’t even lift his eyes. His fingers, which had been stroking the bloody mark on his wrist, stilled. After a long moment, he spoke in a gentle tone: "After all, he is the Crown Prince’s own father."

Qiao Yan was taken aback: "Is it because he is my father, or because he is my royal sister’s father?"

Mu Chi lowered his gaze, his expression tired and distant.

Seeing this, Qiao Yan turned to Wen Xun for help.

Wen Xun avoided Qiao Yan’s gaze: "Mu Chi, the north of the Li Kingdom still suffers from lingering cold. Many commoners have frozen to death or been injured. Taxes are in disarray, and numerous fertile fields have yielded no harvest," he stood up. "I will personally submit a memorial to open the national granaries for rice and charcoal, and exempt taxes for two years. I ask that Mu Chi lend your support when the time comes."

Initially, he had still held hope for the royal family, but upon learning that the current Emperor was obsessed with seeking "elixirs of immortality," such an absurd endeavor, he had no choice but to take a risk and ally with a dangerous man.

Mu Chi frowned.

He seized power not for the sake of the people’s welfare or peace under heaven.

He simply wanted to see the human world turn into a hell on earth, to plunge everything into chaos, worse than his own misery.

For no reason at all.

But the moment he opened his mouth to refuse, he suddenly remembered the scene on the road to *Chu Zhou*, where Qiao Wan, seeing all the filth and corruption, had fallen ill.

Mu Chi’s hand unconsciously clenched, causing the fresh wound to bleed again.

Just then, Si Li hurried in from outside, still holding the porcelain bottle containing the medicine.

Mu Chi froze, his heart inexplicably racing. He straightened up and sat properly.

Si Li walked straight to Mu Chi’s side, bent down, and whispered something. Qiao Yan and Wen Xun watched as the always nonchalant Mu Chi, after a few moments of silence, stood up and hurried out quickly.

Only after Mu Chi’s figure disappeared did Qiao Yan complain: "Teacher, why didn’t you back me up just now?"

After risking so much for so long, he could still only look on from a distance at the throne.

Wen Xun looked at his student, who couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself, and shook his head helplessly: "In front of the Taiyi Palace, dozens of elite soldiers died at the hands of one man. Does Your Highness truly believe he needs you?"

Qiao Yan was stunned: "Teacher, you mean..."

"Your Highness has likely been blessed by Princess Zhaoyang’s fate."

Leaving aside personal feelings, Princess Zhaoyang’s destiny alone—that whoever wins her wins the world—was enough to make everyone under heaven desire to possess her.

When Mu Chi returned to the Princess’s residence, it was dead silent.

Servants moving about kept their heads down, not daring to speak, and the guards on duty looked solemn.

Mu Chi’s steps suddenly halted, causing Si Li, who was following him, to pause in confusion. After a long moment, he asked: "Young Master?"

Mu Chi came back to himself, pursed his lips, and then headed toward the chamber he knew so well.

The door pushed open, and the light scent of sandalwood and medicine wafted out. The woman on the bed still lay there in a deep sleep, her once lively eyes tightly shut, her cheeks thin and pale.

As if she had never awakened.

Mu Chi stood stunned for a moment; the slight turbulence in his heart seemed to settle into utter quiet at that instant.

The court physician had said that she must have ingested some herb that irritated her gut, and they had to force her to vomit it out first. But over the years, she had accumulated many toxins in her body from taking cinnabar and dried human placenta, and could only recover slowly through gradual recuperation.

Cinnabar and dried human placenta were both ingredients in the pills Qiao Heng took.

Mu Chi could not forget the scene he witnessed when he broke into the Changle Palace that day.

She sat beside a faint candlelight, dressed in a vivid red gown, the blood at the corner of her lips brighter than her garments. Even so, she smiled defiantly at him, saying he had too late.

Mu Chi remembered what happened after he got out of the dungeon—he killed all the palace servants outside, except for the well-guarded Eastern Palace and Yangxin Hall.

Finally, he placed two cups of wine before the woman he ought to have called mother.

She wept, calling him "Chi’er" over and over, saying "I’m sorry," then picked up both cups and drank them simultaneously.

That day, she, like Qiao Wan, had blood continuously flowing from her mouth.

Afterward, Li Muxuan entered three years of mourning, and his engagement to Qiao Qingni was postponed.

But at that time, he had only felt bewildered. Watching Qiao Wan vomiting blood, Mu Chi felt fear for the first time, followed by fury and panic.

He thought, how could Qiao Wan, who was so afraid of pain, dare to swallow those drugs; wondered how heartbroken she must have been that day for failing to be with Jing Lan; thought that if he hadn’t gone to Changle Palace or had arrived a moment later, she might have died...

The more he thought, the angrier he became. She said she loved him, yet turned around to wed another. Since that was the case, whatever she desired, he would make sure she never got it.

Even in death, it would be no different.

How she had bought him back from the Pine and Bamboo Pavilion, how she had marked him with her insignia—now that their positions were reversed, and he had yet to repay her in full, how could she die?

Yet, though she had long since expelled those medicinal herbs, she remained comatose.

She had been comatose for a full five days.

Mu Chi slowly walked to the bedside and, as he had done the previous few days, reached out to touch her brow and eyes.

His cold fingertips seemed to brush against an intensely warm furnace, and a faint trace of heat began to circulate incessantly within him.

Even while comatose, her body was as warm as fire.

Mu Chi couldn't resist leaning closer, drawing in the warmth and scent from her.

Just as he had done the previous few days.

But this time, her breathing faltered, and her eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if she were fighting the impulse to avoid his touch.

Mu Chi paused for a moment, then still slipped off his footwear and made to lie down beside her.

Qiao Wan opened her eyes almost immediately, her gaze showing no sign of sleep, though her voice remained feeble and soft. Yet, it did nothing to diminish her natural arrogance and willfulness: "What are you doing?" she demanded.

Mu Chi sat by the bed. "Had enough of pretending, Princess?"

Qiao Wan glared at him, then after a long moment, struggled to sit up. "Where is Jing Lan? What of the Jing family?"

Mu Chi paused for a breath, a surge of irritation rising in his heart. He would have preferred she continued pretending to be unconscious.

Was this all she had to say upon waking?

"Asking about him the moment you wake..." Mu Chi laughed softly, reaching out to play with the strands of Qiao Wan's hair scattered across the soft pillow. "What if he's dead?"

Qiao Wan's fingers stilled. For a moment, she thought she was seeing the gentle and caring Mu Chi from back in the princess's residence.

But his words jolted her back to the present. Qiao Wan pulled her hair out of his grasp. "He is my betrothed. If I don't ask about him, should I ask you instead?"

Betrothed.

Mu Chi looked at his palm, now empty, and the cuts upon it, his tone turning sarcastic. "The betrothed who abandoned you?"

Qiao Wan's face paled slightly. After a long silence, she let out a bizarre, hollow laugh. "Mu Chi, how can you have the nerve to say that?"

Who was it that repeatedly tried to abandon her, even going so far as to push her into the arms of others?

Mu Chi's expression stiffened, then he let out a low, humorless chuckle, his chest vibrating slightly. He leaned closer to her. "Should the princess speak of him again, he will truly die."

Hearing this, Qiao Wan knew Jing Lan was still alive. She lay back down, closed her eyes, and said nothing more.

Mu Chi watched her, the smile on his face gradually fading.

He looked at the wounds on his hand—so obvious, yet she never once looked their way.

Other than Jing Lan, she had nothing left to say to him.

A sudden surge of fury rose in his heart. Mu Chi stood up abruptly. "Has the Princess run out of words?"

Qiao Wan remained silent, her eyes closed.

Mu Chi stared intently at her profile, then turned and left. "Since that's the case, the princess may stay confined to the estate. You may leave once you have something to say."

As he spoke, he walked toward the door, pausing slightly as he opened it. He turned his head and said gently, "By the way, Minister Wen intends to open the national treasury to comfort the people. The princess has always loved the people as her own children, so I took it upon myself to donate the treasures and valuables you had hidden in the cellar on your behalf."

Qiao Wan's eyes flew open, but all she saw was the door slowly closing.

She sat up, a surge of anger rising in her chest. She flung every bit of bedding on the bed to the floor before stopping, panting heavily.

That silver was what she had planned to take with her when she left Lingjing, once Mu Chi and Qiao Qingni were settled and inevitably no longer paid her any mind!

But as she lay back on the bed, recalling what she had seen and heard on the journey to Chuzhou, Qiao Wan pressed her lips together, her anger subsiding slightly.

She still had her clothes and jewelry. If she managed wisely, she could still live a life of luxury.

For the next few days, Mu Chi did not appear again.

The court was undergoing great turmoil, and various factions were inevitably engaged in open and hidden power struggles. He must have been busy.

As for Qiao Qingni's marriage alliance with Great Qi, it was indeed postponed for several months on the grounds that Qiao Heng was unwell and Qiao Qingni wished to fulfill her duty as a daughter by attending to him. The wedding was rescheduled for a fortunate date in May.

When Qiao Wan heard Yicui timidly share the update with her, she only paused for a moment before letting out a derisive snort.

As expected, how could Mu Chi bear to let his beloved marry someone else?

Her body began to slowly recover. Though still weak, she could now move about freely.

However, guards still guarded the princess's estate, and she could only walk the courtyard grounds.

Instead, it was the guard named Si Li who often appeared, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitating. He would hand the herbal preparations to Yicui before leaving with a complicated expression.

One day, the sky was somewhat cloudy.

After taking her medicine, Qiao Wan strolled with Yicui in the courtyard. When they reached the base of the wall, she suddenly heard the sound of stones skittering above. She looked up but only caught a glimpse of a red shadow darting away. When she looked again, there was no one there.

But at her feet was a note weighed down by a pebble.

Qiao Wan stepped on the note, picked it up inconspicuously, and hid it in her sleeve. She only opened it after returning to her bedchamber.

The note was from Jing Lan, containing only two words: "I'm sorry."

Qiao Wan looked at these two words, her gaze lingering on the final stroke, which was somewhat distorted, as if written with a faltering hand.

Qiao Wan thought of what Mu Chi had said—he only guaranteed Jing Lan would not die, but he never guaranteed anything else.

Now, even Yicui could not learn any information about the Jing family...

Qiao Wan's breath hitched slightly. After a moment of silence, she turned and walked out.

In recent days, Si Li had been serving by the young master's side, perpetually anxious.

The young master had said, "When Princess Changle is ready to talk, then she may be released." He hadn't even returned to the princess's residence since, but whenever Si Li reported on the affairs of the residence, the young master never interrupted, only listening in silence. After hearing the report, he would then say, "He speaks too much."

Though those around him didn't know why, they all understood the young master's volatile moods. Ordinary people dared not even approach him, trembling with fear.

Today, seeing Princess Changle finally preparing to leave the princess's residence, Si Li assumed she had finally softened toward the young master. He immediately used his *qinggong* to scale the wall and headed in the direction of the palace.

Qiao Wan had no intention of taking the carriage from the princess's residence. In the past, all in the estate had been Qiao Heng's people, but who knew if Mu Chi had already replaced them with his own.

Qiao Wan walked all the way to the marketplace. The ripples from the palace uprising from days prior had yet to fully dissipate, but vendors had already emerged to peddle their goods.

She found a carriage and headed straight for General Dingguo's estate.

Upon arriving at the General's estate, Qiao Wan noticed that the once bustling mansion now appeared strangely quiet.

A couple carriages stood in front of the mansion, and just a few servants were carrying boxes, loading them up onto the carriages.

"Ah, even the Grand General has been exiled to the frontier with his entire family..." a passerby whispered with a sigh.

"Tell me about it," someone chimed in regretfully. "Not long ago, the Emperor even arranged the marriage between the young general and Princess Changle. The General's estate was so impressive back then."

"Enough, let's not say more. I heard the Watchtower Pavilion's distributing rice and grain. We should go get some..."

"Really? I’ll go get everyone from the courtyard."

The group hurried off, leaving only a few sighs behind.

Qiao Wan stood frozen under a tree not far across from the mansion.

So, they had been exiled to the frontier.

"Alright, enough with the long faces. I’m perfectly fine and back..." A voice, as carefree as ever, came from the entrance of the mansion but abruptly stopped when its owner noticed the figure standing not far away.

Jing Lan looked at the woman still wearing a watery-red cloak, raised an eyebrow after a moment, and managed a smile as he walked over to her. The showy red jade bead that once adorned his high ponytail was gone.

"Qiao Wan, I’ve told you before—frowning doesn’t suit you. It’s ugly."

Qiao Wan also laughed. "Jing Lan, why are you still such a smartmouth?"

"Since when do I hold back?" Jing Lan shrugged, then paused. "Here to say goodbye?"

This time, Qiao Wan didn’t respond, feeling something stuck in her throat.

The sky seemed to darken suddenly, and the entire street was almost empty.

But Jing Lan laughed. "Don’t worry, it’s just being sent to Mount Ling. My father grew up there—the place is full of men he trained. He’ll be happier, more free back at the border."

Qiao Wan had heard some things about the Jing family and nodded with a soft "Mm."

"Going there is better than staying at the foot of the imperial city. Here, there are too many eyes watching, and everything we do risks bringing shame to the family. Out there, I might even make a name for myself."

"Mm."

"Maybe one day you’ll come to Mount Ling, and we’ll meet again."

"Mm."

"Just a pity—you’ve missed out on the honor of marrying me."

Qiao Wan was about to nod again but caught herself, looking up to glare at him. "Hey!"

Jing Lan chuckled. He gazed at the woman before him, her eyes slightly red, then turned to look at the overcast sky, his voice turning quiet. "Mount Qingyun."

Qiao Wan was puzzled. "What?"

"That time at Mount Qingyun," Jing Lan paused, his voice hoarse, "after returning, I wasn’t as opposed to the arranged marriage anymore."

Qiao Wan just stared at him.

Jing Lan coughed. "I thought I’d never get the chance to say it. Didn’t expect to run into you again, so I’ll let you enjoy this..."

Qiao Wan still stood there, stunned, before suddenly letting out an exaggerated laugh. "So you liked me!"

Jing Lan instantly glared at her in anger. "Clearly, I must’ve been crazy to—"

His words trailed off as he noticed her reddened eyes. After a moment, he whispered, "Qiao Wan, don’t cry."

Qiao Wan widened her eyes. "I’m not crying."

Jing Lan looked at her intently, his own eyes suddenly reddening. "I really am the one who should apologize, Qiao Wan."

"Minister Wen and my father had decades of friendship. They just disagreed politically. That day in the palace, I knew Minister Wen wouldn’t harm my father’s life, but I still couldn’t take that chance. I had no choice but to leave you behind."

Later, when he returned home and found his father only drugged and our home unguarded, he knew it was all over.

He had made a choice there was no going back from.

Qiao Wan said nothing, only asking after a long silence, "When are you leaving?"

Jing Lan looked at her. "Noon."

"Mm," Qiao Wan replied softly and fell silent again.

General Jing had emerged at some point, now wearing simple indigo clothes. A woman in her thirties stood beside him. The two looked at her from a distance for a long time before General Jing bowed in her direction. The woman also bowed her head, and then they boarded a carriage together.

Noon arrived.

Qiao Wan watched as the carriages moved toward the northern city gate, getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared from sight.

A drop of rain fell from the sky overhead.

Then thousands upon thousands of drops followed.

Qiao Wan remained under the tree, watching the distant haze of rain, before suddenly squatting down and bursting into loud, heartbroken sobs.

The slender young girl crouched in the rain, crying not caring how she looked, completely miserable.

She didn’t even know why she was crying.

The Jing family’s situation was already as good as it could be—she wasn’t that sad.

Qiao Heng had finally gotten his retribution—she should be happy.

Mu Chi hadn’t killed her; she was still alive, and from now on, she no longer had to worry about dying during some drug trial. She should have been laughing.

But for some reason, she just wanted to cry.

She thought of herself parading through the streets of Lingjing on horseback, of herself spending freely at the Songzhu Pavilion, of herself going at each other with Jing Lan, and of herself… her heart skipping a beat when she heard Mu Chi say, "I will stay by your side."

Jing Lan said he liked her.

Qiao Heng said she was his most beloved "Little Eleven."

Mu Chi had also lied to her, saying he would give her the love she wanted.

But now, in Lingjing—real or fake, deep or shallow—nobody cared about her anymore.

Not far away, Si Li held an umbrella over Mu Chi, eyes downcast, not daring to watch.

Mu Chi stood in the rain, his slender, snow-white fingers clenched tightly. Fresh wounds split open, and blood mixed with rainwater dripped down drop by drop.

He watched the woman crouching not far away, sobbing uncontrollably in the rain. His face, drained of color, his eyes were deep and dark.

After a long while, he raised a hand to press against his chest, his expression turning peculiar. It felt as though a jumble of emotions twisted together into a sour ache.

Back on Yanming Mountain, and when she left Chuzhou alone, she had never cried like this.

Was Jing Lan’s departure truly so heartbreaking?

Author's Note:

Si Li (excitedly): Young master, the princess wants to pay attention to you now!

The dog came running over.

The dog: I’m dead—died from the sourness.

A meaty chapter!

(Softly: But I didn't update yesterday, so... 50 little red packets for this chapter!)