The Empress Dowager, having heard Xiahou Dan verbally spar with Tur in the Xiang Hall, realized that Xiahou Dan had been secretly orchestrating the peace talks from the beginning.

The emperor had sent emissaries to Yan Kingdom right under her nose, and she didn’t even know who Wang Zhao was, nor did Prince Duan, she suspected.

Severely injured, he remained calm and used his words to turn the enemy. He planned to send Tur back to incite internal strife in Yan, thereby eliminating the threat to Daxia without bloodshed.

How long had he been hiding his true self?

What other preparations had he made over the years?

At this moment, Xiahou Dan had surpassed Prince Duan in her mind, becoming the most dangerous person. If not for today’s incident, it wouldn’t be long before he overturned everything.

Though he was poisoned, who could guarantee he wouldn’t find an antidote after descending the mountain? If he lived, she would be the one to die.

Yet, for some reason, Xiahou Dan had suddenly become muddled, forgetting to kill her and even saving her.

In the darkness, the Empress Dowager trembled, not from fear but from tension.

This was her last chance from the heavens—kill Xiahou Dan, frame Tur, and use the ensuing war to eliminate Prince Duan.

Feigning death, she waited until Bei Zhou was distracted talking to the outside, then crawled towards Xiahou Dan.

But heaven’s favor was cheap; after only a step, Bei Zhou stepped on her back.

Outside, chaos ensued, with the leader seemingly directing people to fetch tools from all around.

The Empress Dowager snapped, “How dare you! Who are you—?”

Bei Zhou firmly held her down and asked, for the second time today, “Dan’er, should I kill her?”

His tone was casual, whether it was an enemy prince or the empress dowager, he could crush them like ants with one word from Xiahou Dan.

Xiahou Dan was silent for a moment.

Yu Wanyin didn’t know what he was contemplating in the silence. When he spoke, it was to say, “Today’s events were caused by unruly subjects.”

Everyone: “?”

Xiahou Dan said meaningfully, “Fortunately, you guards protected me with your lives. As for the envoys, they were in the capital the whole time, preparing for the peace talks.”

With the first hammer blow outside, he began arranging: “Tur, smear some mud on your face and keep your head down later. Dark guards, give Wanyin your outer clothes. Wanyin, tie up your hair and smear your face.”

Everyone understood and followed the instructions in the dark.

Xiahou Dan’s voice grew weaker: “Tur, do you have any non-lethal poison left?”

Tur, unsure why he asked, hesitated: “It’s hard to say. The poison isn’t mine, I’ve only tested it on chickens.” He pulled out a pill and sniffed it, “This one shouldn’t be fatal; the chicken was paralyzed immediately.”

Xiahou Dan: “Uncle Bei, make the empress dowager take it.”

The Empress Dowager: “!!!”

The sound of hammering continued, accompanied by faint cracking noises.

The Empress Dowager urgently said, “Emperor, Dan’er, you were wise and brave today, turning conflict into peace. Mother is deeply grateful… All I’ve done over the years was to ease your burden… Wait!!!” She turned her head to avoid Bei Zhou’s pill, “Don’t forget you’re poisoned! If we both die, Xiahou Bo will laugh last. Don’t you hate him?”

Xiahou Dan gently replied, “No need to worry, mother, I won’t die.”

Bei Zhou pried open her mouth and forced the pill in amid her screams.

Xiahou Dan: “Mother, you must have forgotten how many poisons I’ve endured and antidotes I’ve taken thanks to you and Prince Duan. Ordinary poisons don’t affect me much.”

Bei Zhou lifted her by the neck, shaking her until the pill went down.

Xiahou Dan: “Rest assured, mother. I will live to see the peace talks succeed, Prince Duan defeated, and the world at peace. Then, in the afterlife, as you hold your grandson, don’t forget to be happy for me.”

The empress dowager’s moans and pleas weakened until only shallow breaths remained.

In the silence, Xiahou Dan suddenly laughed.

He laughed uncontrollably: “Do you remember where we are?”

No one dared to answer, so he did: “In the tomb I built for her.”

A loud crash broke the stone door.

With a few more strikes, it shattered, sending mud flying.

The vice commander of the imperial guards knelt: “Forgive me for being late, Your Majesty!”

With his head lowered, he heard the emperor’s panicked voice: “Forget me, save the empress dowager first.”

The vice commander, surprised, raised his torch to see the empress dowager convulsing on the ground, her face contorted as if she had a stroke.

The guards carried the wounded down the mountain and escorted the emperor back to the city.

On the way back, the rain subsided, and clouds parted, revealing that it was already evening. The sunset blazed like fire, burning the remaining clouds to ash.

As the carriage entered the palace, the empress dowager was carried in first.

The vice commander went to help Xiahou Dan, but the emperor ignored him, leaning on Bei Zhou, who had returned to his nursemaid form.

Transferring most of his weight to Bei Zhou, he asked calmly, “Where is Zhao Wucheng?”

The vice commander hesitated. Xiahou Dan said impatiently, “Speak honestly.”

The vice commander: “Commander Zhao… is missing.”

Earlier, the vice commander, incited by Yang Duojie, had sent Zhao Wucheng away, stolen the military token, and led his loyal men to the rescue.

Before returning, he worried Zhao Wucheng might block their way, committing regicide. He sent someone to scout ahead, finding Zhao Wucheng had fled at the first sign of trouble. Zhao Wucheng, cowardly, had likely taken his valuables and run.

Xiahou Dan sneered: “From now on, you are the commander of the imperial guards.”

The vice commander was ecstatic.

Xiahou Dan: “Proclaim my decree: The unruly subjects caused chaos; the city is under martial law. The imperial guards failed to protect, Zhao Wucheng deserted, capture him and execute immediately.”

The vice commander passionately replied: “I obey!”

He left, relieved he had chosen the right side in the end, not noticing Xiahou Dan’s slightly slow steps as he entered the palace.

Xiahou Dan staggered into his bedchamber, collapsing as the door closed.

“Dan’er!” Bei Zhou exclaimed.

Yu Wanyin, following as a guard, rushed to help, her hands stained with blood.

Tuer, also following: “…Quick, call the imperial physician!”

Xiahou Dan rolled his eyes at him and looked at Yu Wanyin.

He had so much to tell her.

For instance, he wasn’t as confident as he claimed about surviving this ordeal. The reason he incapacitated the Empress Dowager was that if he died, the final winner would inevitably be either her or Prince Duan. Between the two, the Empress Dowager was pro-war, while Prince Duan was pro-peace.

He didn’t want to hand victory to Prince Duan, but removing the Empress Dowager at least preserved the peace talks.

He hadn’t killed the Empress Dowager on the spot to confuse Prince Duan, making him hesitate to rebel in the uncertain situation. If he survived, this move would buy him precious recovery time.

Right now, Prince Duan would surely be eyeing the palace. But she need not be afraid. She couldn’t afford to be afraid. If he fell, she would be the only stabilizing force left.

So many things to say.

But he had no strength left.

He could barely manage, “Don’t be afraid…”

Yu Wanyin nodded, “You too, don’t be afraid. I can handle it.”

Relieved, Xiahou Dan passed out.

Bei Zhou carried Xiahou Dan to the bed. Yu Wanyin turned to face the gathered palace servants.

Most of the carefully trained dark guards had perished on Bei Mountain. The remaining ones, still under Bei Zhou’s training, suddenly went from backups to the front line, looking even more nervous than she was.

Yes, Yu Wanyin thought, unknowingly, she had stopped feeling afraid.

If she returned to her original world now, she might be promoted to CEO.

She spoke in a steady voice, “In the name of His Majesty, order that the Empress Dowager is ill. The palace is under curfew tonight, no one is to enter or leave. Summon the imperial physicians… send many to the Empress Dowager’s side, but only one here.” They had to guard against Prince Duan’s spies.

Everyone obeyed and left.

Yu Wanyin looked at Xiahou Dan on the bed. His face was completely bloodless, looking ashen as death. In stories like this, the imperial physicians were usually of little help.

She paced back and forth. “Uncle Bei, where is A Bai? Isn’t he out finding medicine for His Majesty?”

Bei Zhou shook his head helplessly. A Bai hadn’t revealed anything to him at the time, and Xiahou Dan hadn’t mentioned it either.

Yu Wanyin took a deep breath. “I remembered someone… I forgot her.”

She called a dark guard, “Go summon Consort Xie. If there’s danger, save her. If not, ask if she knows a genius apprentice in the imperial medical office and bring him along.”

Consort Xie arrived quickly.

In the morning, Xie Yong’er had reported to Yu Wanyin and then quickly hid in her palace, feigning illness to avoid seeing anyone. She feared Yu Wanyin might not get the hint, or that if she did, her reaction might alert Prince Duan. Though Prince Duan’s attention should have been on the mountain today, who could guarantee he didn’t leave someone to deal with her?

At dusk, she finally awaited the dark guards to take her to see the emperor.

Entering the bedchamber, she was relieved, “You finally thought of me! I didn’t dare touch the food and water all day, afraid Xiahou Bo would poison me…”

Yu Wanyin handed her a cup of tea, “Thank you for your trouble. Stay here for now and don’t go out.”

Xie Yong’er, parched, lifted the cup to drink but hesitated suspiciously, “Why do you look like a ghost? Is the emperor still alive? Did you fail, planning to bury me with you?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She led Xie Yong’er to the inner chamber.

The servants had removed Xiahou Dan’s blood-stained dragon robe and roughly cleaned his wounds. Seeing the still-bleeding gash on his chest, Xie Yong’er gasped, “What happened?”

Yu Wanyin, exhausted, summarized the events in half a minute.

Xie Yong’er stood stunned.

After a moment, her thoughts resumed, “… a gunshot.”

Yu Wanyin nodded.

Xie Yong’er: “Impressive.”

Yu Wanyin: “Thanks.”

Xie Yong’er, feeling numb, realized she must now cling tightly to these two, ensuring she wasn’t on their opposing side.

Three days ago, she couldn’t have imagined plotting and advising for them: “Disinfect the wound—”

“Used alcohol.”

“Can he have a blood transfusion?”

“Don’t know his blood type.”

Xie Yong’er: “I’m O-type, universal donor!”

Yu Wanyin: “You mean you were O-type before crossing over?”

Xie Yong’er fell silent.

Yu Wanyin: “We can only think like the ancients. The priority is detoxification. That genius apprentice you know—”

“He’s called Xiao Tiancai. I’ve already sent for him with the dark guards, having him follow the physicians to avoid suspicion.” Xie Yong’er frowned, “But how did you know I knew him?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

It was written in the text.

Before Yu Wanyin could fabricate an explanation, Xie Yong’er understood, “You have spies in the imperial medical office too? You knew when I sought abortion medicine? Lucky I didn’t fight you.”

Yu Wanyin: “.”

Yu Wanyin: “Thanks.”

She couldn’t reveal the truth to Xie Yong’er.

Yu Wanyin had initially exploited their shared identity as time travelers to win her over. Discovering she was a character in a book might cause unpredictable reactions from Xie Yong’er.

And honestly, if Yu Wanyin were a character in a book, she wouldn’t want to know either.

Without free will, what could she rely on?

The imperial physician arrived with Xiao Tiancai.

Xiao Tiancai, eighteen, had a gentle demeanor and a scholarly appearance. After kneeling, his eyes kept darting to Xie Yong’er, hesitant to speak.

The imperial physician, sweating, took Xiahou Dan’s pulse. Xie Yong’er whispered new precautions to Yu Wanyin, “Is Tuer locked up? He can’t be free before the peace talks. If Xiahou Bo’s people contact him, promising to kill both the emperor and King Yan…”

“Don’t worry, he’s locked up.”

Xiao Tiancai’s gaze swept over Xiahou Dan’s body. Seeing he was unconscious and seemingly no one in charge, he cautiously approached Xie Yong’er, “Consort Xie, may I speak with you?”

They walked a distance to a secluded spot. Xiao Tiancai lowered his voice, asking expectantly, “Do you want him to live or die?”

A dark guard above drew his dagger.

Xie Yong’er: “?”

Xie Yong’er quickly said, “To live, to live.”

Never had she prayed so fervently for Xiahou Dan’s survival since crossing over.

Even Xiahou Dan might not know this day would have the most people praying for him in history.

Xiao Tiancai looked doubtful, as if gauging if she was being coerced, “Didn’t you say you felt trapped in this palace, longing for Prince Duan—”

Xie Yong’er covered his mouth, “That was then, now Prince Duan is dead to me!” Unable to explain further or think of a plausible excuse quickly, she decided, “Actually… the emperor has always been kind to me. I didn’t realize my feelings.”

Xiao Tiancai: “.”

He stared at her briefly, then turned, “I understand.”

His silhouette seemed somewhat forlorn.

Having read the original text, Yu Wanyin knew this man was one of the cannon fodder male characters attracted to Xie Yong’er. She could guess their whispered conversation. Seeing Xiao Tiancai return dejectedly, she smiled warmly, “Mr. Xiao, we are relying on you now.”

The imperial physician preparing an apology: “?”

Xiao Tiancai softly said, “Forgive my impertinence,” and examined Xiahou Dan’s wound.

Xiao Tiancai: “His Majesty seems to have been poisoned with a potent toxin that disrupts blood clotting…”

Yu Wanyin held her breath for his prognosis.

Xiao Tiancai: “… but it seems the dosage was low, or His Majesty’s body is strong, as the wound shows signs of healing.”

Yu Wanyin, stunned, hurried over.

She hadn’t dared look closely at the ghastly wound before. Now, seeing it bleed less, she felt resurrected, asking incredulously, “Really? It’s not just blood running dry?”

Xiao Tiancai’s mouth twitched, “His Majesty is blessed, he’ll be fine. I’ll prescribe a hemostatic.”

At this moment, countless messages were being passed in the curfewed city.

The Empress Dowager’s faction was urgently inquiring about the day’s events, the whereabouts of the envoy, and the Empress Dowager’s condition.

Prince Duan’s faction was secretly discussing why the mission failed, how the emperor escaped, and how to alter their plans.

Yang Duojie was writing a secret letter to Li Yunxi, praising Xiahou Dan.

Under the solitary moon, a figure fled, knocking on familiar doors of Prince Duan’s supporters, only to find none opened. Finally, he was killed by a barrage of arrows on the street.

The new commander of the imperial guards beheaded him without hesitation, declaring joyfully, “To the palace to report, the criminal Zhao Wucheng has been executed!”

According to the original plan, the day after tomorrow was the auspicious day for the peace talks set by the imperial astronomer. If Xiahou Dan couldn’t attend, it would clearly signal to Prince Duan: I am vulnerable, you can strike.

Every cell in Yu Wanyin’s body screamed fatigue, but she couldn’t relax. Using the time the servants took to brew medicine, she and Xie Yong’er reviewed the palace defenses, reinforcing potential weak spots against Prince Duan’s infiltration.

She didn’t disclose Tur’s location to Xie Yong’er.

Bei Zhou was guarding Tur in the tunnel beneath them. The other end of the tunnel was sealed. Even if Prince Duan was omnipotent, he couldn’t find him.

If Prince Duan resorted to direct assassination, the tunnel would be their last escape.

Xiahou Dan lay pale as paper, unconscious, with medicine spilling from his lips.

Seeing his tightly shut lips, Yu Wanyin, who had read countless online novels, understood. She turned to Xie Yong’er.

Xie Yong’er also understood and pulled Xiao Tiancai aside, “Let’s step out.”

She settled Xiao Tiancai in a side hall and, recalling Yu Wanyin’s exhaustion and need for someone to take over at night, returned.

She found Yu Wanyin, lips red from drinking, placing an empty bowl and picking up a porridge bowl. Hearing footsteps, she looked up.

Xie Yong’er stepped back, “Carry on. Don’t mind me.”

Xiahou Dan woke up the following afternoon.

Having slept deeply and long, he momentarily forgot where and when he was, thinking he hadn’t gone to Bei Mountain yet. Instinctively, he tried to sit up but fell back onto the pillow with a hiss of pain.

His chest wound still hurt, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding. He tried moving his arms and legs slightly; aside from feeling weak, there were no other problems.

It looked like he wouldn’t die this time either. Realizing this, his first reaction was strangely one of exhaustion.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone beside the bed. Slowly, he turned his head.

Yu Wanyin was leaning on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, resting her head on her arms. She had changed her clothes and seemed to have hurriedly taken a bath, as her long hair was still damp. Xiahou Dan reached out and gently touched her head. His fingertips felt the dampness; she hadn’t even had time to dry her hair before falling asleep.

Xiahou Dan rang a bell to summon the palace servants, intending for them to carry her to a bed. However, Yu Wanyin woke up in a daze and asked, “How are you?”

Perhaps because of his weakness, or maybe because of their recent shared understanding, Xiahou Dan looked extraordinarily peaceful, as if he had never killed anyone. His gaze towards her was as gentle as water, almost making her forget the madman on the mountain. “Better than I expected. How is the palace?”

“No court today. We told everyone you were attending to the Empress Dowager, and the palace gates are still closed. But I wanted to bluff Prince Duan, so I had them set up for tomorrow’s peace talks as usual. So far, there’s been no movement from his side.”

“What about the Empress Dowager?”

As she climbed onto the bed, Yu Wanyin shook her head and tutted, “She’s been making a ruckus but can’t even speak clearly. Her supporters have been coming one by one like the Seven Heroes saving their grandfather, but I sent them all away.”

Xiahou Dan laughed, “Mighty Aunt Yu.”

Yu Wanyin lay down heavily beside him, feeling nothing but exhaustion. “Remember to eat something before you sleep. I can’t hold on anymore; I’m going to nap. Call me if you need anything…”

“Okay.” Xiahou Dan held her hand, “Leave it to me.”

The smell of medicine on Xiahou Dan lingered in the air. Finally, her tense nerves relaxed, and for the first time in days, Yu Wanyin fell into a sweet sleep.

But when she woke up again, he was gone.

She heard faint voices, “…respecting each other’s territories and maintaining peace. Also, trade silk and porcelain for your fox pelts and spices… Here’s the detailed list. Review it and if there are no issues, we’ll proceed with the ceremony tomorrow.”

It was already night, the flickering candlelight cast shadows on the bed curtains. Yu Wanyin quietly got up, lifting the curtains to peek outside. Xiahou Dan was sitting with Tur, with Bei Zhou standing nearby.

Tur read the peace agreement for a while, then put it down, “I have a question. What position will I take when allying with Xia Kingdom? Will I be the new King of Yan? When I return with Xia Kingdom’s support to seize Zhaluo Wahan’s head, won’t I be seen as a traitor by the people?”

Xiahou Dan replied slowly, “Of course not. Aren’t you Zhaluo Wahan’s envoy?”

Tur: “?”

Xiahou Dan: “Once the alliance is signed tomorrow, we will spread the news far and wide, even into Yan. It will be said that Zhaluo Wahan sincerely sent you, Prince Tur, for peace talks. Xia Kingdom, moved by his sincerity, treated you as an honored guest. Now that the war has ended, the people of Yan, weary of war, will rejoice. Then…”

“Then if Zhaluo Wahan breaks the alliance and denies this agreement to restart the war, he will be seen as a treacherous and unjust ruler?”

Xiahou Dan smiled, “You catch on quickly.”

Tur: “?”

Tur: “I’ll take that as a compliment. Based on my knowledge of Yan, before I even return, my supporters would start fighting Zhaluo Wahan. I don’t want to see my homeland in civil war. To kill Zhaluo Wahan, it must be a swift strike. How many troops can you lend me?”

Xiahou Dan seemed to make a gesture that Yu Wanyin couldn’t see from her angle.

Xiahou Dan: “The condition is that you honor the agreement immediately upon returning, bringing the goods to the border for exchange.”

Tur pondered for a long time before nodding solemnly, “Agreed.”

He stood up, “Can I sleep above ground tonight?”

“No,” Xiahou Dan said without hesitation, “There are beds in the tunnel. Bei Zhou will accompany you. Go ahead.”

Yu Wanyin seemed to hear Tur gritting his teeth, “A gentleman can be killed but not humiliated!”

Xiahou Dan: “Then kill me again?”

Tur took a deep breath and crawled towards the entrance under the dragon bed.

Yu Wanyin hurriedly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

After Tur and Bei Zhou had both gone, Xiahou Dan lay back beside her, clutching his wound and exhaling sharply.

Yu Wanyin moved closer and whispered in his ear, “The person you’re lending to Tur, is it A Bai?”

Her breath was warm against his ear and neck. Xiahou Dan turned his head to look at her, inexplicably recalling the feel of her lips, soft and bouncy like strawberry gummy candies from a distant memory.

He suddenly leaned in and pecked her lips, “Correct, ten points.”

Yu Wanyin felt her face heat up and tried to act nonchalant, “Is A Bai alone enough?”

Xiahou Dan pecked her again, “Minus ten points. How many times are you going to mention A Bai in front of me?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Stop teasing, or your wound will split open.

Yu Wanyin turned her back to him, “Sleep. Try to get as much rest as possible before morning to help the wound heal.”

But Xiahou Dan wouldn’t shut up, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m… too tired to be hungry. I had them simmer some porridge; I’ll eat when I wake up in the night.”

“Okay.”

Yu Wanyin opened her eyes in the dim light, staring at the bed curtain, “By the way, I have something to ask you.”

In the unseen place, Xiahou Dan’s body stiffened.

He hadn’t forgotten that he had promised to confess something to her.

At the time, he thought it would be his last words.

Yu Wanyin: “How did you know what Shanyi’s dagger looked like?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

He heard his own voice, familiar and automatic, answering, “I investigated. The palace servants who collected her body told me.”

“Then…”

Xiahou Dan’s nails dug into his palms.

“Then when you recognized Tur in Xiang Hall, you should have confronted him immediately. Maybe you could have avoided the battle on the mountain.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Xiahou Dan responded, “At the time, he was blinded by rage and determined to kill me. He wouldn’t have listened to baseless words without evidence.”

“But later—”

“Later, when he failed, he was unwilling to accept defeat. I gave him a new target for revenge, a new goal, and he naturally believed.”

In the quiet night, Xiahou Dan’s cold voice carried a hint of mockery, “You can’t wake someone pretending to be asleep, but you can wake them with hunger.”

Yu Wanyin sighed, “He killed Wang Zhao. I can’t sympathize with him. But his story with Shanyi is also tragic. In this world, living is a fluke, and staying together is a luxury.”

“We won’t be like that.”

Yu Wanyin smiled and turned over, hooking her arm around his—intending a bear hug, but considering his unexplained fear of touch, she opted to be gradual.

This time, Xiahou Dan didn’t have a reactive response. Perhaps he was too weak to resist, but Yu Wanyin felt like she received special treatment and was satisfied. “In a way, we should be thankful for this ordeal; otherwise, we might have circled around each other for too long and never had the chance to properly fall in love.”

“Love…” Xiahou Dan repeated unconsciously.

She felt a bit embarrassed. “It’s a bit silly, but after witnessing the uncertainty of life and death, it makes you want to seize the moment and enjoy it while it lasts.”

Xiahou Dan remained silent.

Feeling awkward without a response, Yu Wanyin nudged him. “Don’t you feel the same? Oh, right, you seemed to have something important to tell me before you went up the mountain, didn’t you?”

“…Aren’t you still tired? Sleep first, we can talk about it another day.”

That morning, as dawn broke, the ministers of Daxia were already standing in the chilly autumn air outside the main hall, waiting for the morning court. They seemed to have arrived earlier than usual, but no one spoke.

In the silence, a gust of cold wind blew through.

The crowd stood subtly divided into two groups, both sides glancing at each other warily.

Judging by their expressions, the Empress Dowager’s faction looked nervous and on edge, while Prince Duan’s faction was alert and ready for anything.

Of course, there were exceptions.

Such as Mu Yun.

Mu Yun was both shrinking his neck in anxiety and alert, as he was Prince Duan’s spy within the Empress Dowager’s faction, feeling double the stress.

From the day before yesterday to yesterday, the entire city was under lockdown, and the palace was sealed off without a single gap, with no one allowed in or out. After the temporary new commander of the imperial guards patrolled the royal city five times yesterday, merchants closed early, and commoners didn’t dare to leave their homes.

Even a pig could sense the impending change.

Mu Yun knew things had gone wrong—he had sent Tur to the mountain, but Tur had failed to decisively eliminate Xiahou Dan and the Empress Dowager.

From his spies, he heard that the dead bodies brought down from Bei Mountain formed a small hill, hurriedly buried overnight. Almost none of the guards, Yan Kingdom people, or Prince Duan’s reinforcements survived.

What exactly happened during that ominous rainstorm?

Did the Emperor and the Empress Dowager survive? How?

Mu Yun had tried to make up for his mistakes. All day yesterday, he pretended to be worried about the Empress Dowager, repeatedly trying to gain entry to the palace but was always blocked. The palace announced that the Empress Dowager had fallen ill and needed to rest.

Not only that, the Emperor himself didn’t show up all day.

Mu Yun had racked his brains in front of Prince Duan: “Most likely, both are severely injured, on the brink of death. Your Highness, now is the perfect opportunity to strike and not let either of them recover!”

Before he could finish, a spy reported new information: “The palace has set up the hall for the peace talks as usual, saying the Emperor has decreed that the peace agreement with the Yan envoy will be signed during the morning court tomorrow.”

Mu Yun: “…”

Mu Yun’s mind went blank.

Xiahou Dan releasing this news was like announcing to the world: I am the winner.

If the Emperor was fine, why didn’t he appear?

And where did this Yan envoy come from? Weren’t the Yan people assassins? Didn’t they all die? How could Xiahou Dan produce an envoy team? Even if he found someone to impersonate, if Yan didn’t recognize the treaty, what use was it?

Unlike the deeply resentful Xu Yao, Mu Yun was a born strategist. He enjoyed the process of weaving webs in the dark, taking pleasure in watching his prey fall into his traps, bewildered and desperate.

For the first time in his life, he felt like the prey himself.

Prince Duan had smiled, asking him calmly, “Should I attend the morning court tomorrow?”

Mu Yun felt his scalp tingle: “The Emperor might be bluffing, pretending everything is fine to stall for time.”

Prince Duan looked at him: “And what if he’s really fine?”

Mu Yun: “…”

Could this mad emperor who escaped from Bei Mountain have some unfathomable trump card?

No one could be sure of his condition. If he was critically injured, Prince Duan could slowly tighten the noose and send him to his grave. But on the flip side, if he was truly unscathed, he would deal with the Empress Dowager first and then immediately turn on Prince Duan.

Cold sweat formed on Mu Yun’s forehead: “Your Highness needn’t worry too much. The Emperor has played the fool for years, with little support. Even if he has secretly built a force, his foundation in court is weak. Although he nominally controls the imperial guards, they are divided internally. If it comes to a direct confrontation… he has little chance of winning.”

Prince Duan had many elite private soldiers and was on good terms with military officers. Even without actual military power, he could rally a significant force with a single call. In terms of combat power, the Emperor indeed couldn’t compare.

Prince Duan nodded: “So if Xiahou Dan has any brains, he would strike swiftly, catching me off guard—the best chance being tomorrow’s morning court. Don’t you agree?”

Those calm eyes swept over him, as if genuinely seeking his opinion.

I’m done for, thought Mu Yun.

Given Prince Duan’s meticulousness and suspicion, his failure on Bei Mountain likely marked him as a traitor. And he had seen the fate of traitors from Xu Yao.

What could he do to save his life now?

Mu Yun, who had pretended to stutter in front of the Empress Dowager’s faction for years, genuinely stammered for the first time: “The-there may be a trick on the court… or maybe not.”

His face turned red, almost kneeling in pleading.

But Prince Duan didn’t explode or make things difficult for him, even comforting him gently: “Don’t blame yourself too much, you did your best.” He made his decision, “Since the situation is unclear, I will claim illness and not attend.”

Outside the hall, the ministers quickly noticed Prince Duan’s absence.

Prince Duan’s faction looked grim. Without Prince Duan himself, they had already lost in momentum.

They thought they had won by toppling the Empress Dowager, only to find out the Emperor had quietly built his power right under their noses.

Prince Duan’s faction gritted their teeth, having resolved to keep a close watch on the Emperor during the court session, like wolves eyeing a weakened leader, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of weakness and tear his throat out.

Three sharp knocks of the purity bell echoed.

The hall doors opened.

Xiahou Dan walked in leisurely, sitting on the dragon throne, his demeanor unchanged from any regular court session—bored.

Only when he looked down at the bowing ministers did he reveal a trace of mockery, as if amused by their expressions, silently taunting them.

The ministers: “.”

The smile disappeared quickly, replaced by a worried expression: “The Empress Dowager’s sudden illness has left me deeply distressed. Only by securing the peace agreement quickly can we bring her the good news and ease her mind.”

The ministers: “…”

You’re just worried she won’t die fast enough.

Xiahou Dan raised a hand, and the attendant An Xian announced, “Summon the Yan envoy!”

The Yan envoy entered slowly.

Mu Yun turned to look and froze.

Tur, now clean-shaven and wearing the luxurious furs befitting a prince, looked tall and imposing, walking with a confident stride. Behind him was a symbolic entourage, hastily assembled by Xiahou Dan since all the real ones had died.

Except for a few insiders, the ministers were shocked by his appearance, whispering, “Could that be…”

Tur walked past the crowd, bowing to Xiahou Dan: “Prince Tur of Yan, greets the Emperor of Daxia!”

The ministers went wild.

Under dozens of scrutinizing gazes, Tur sat at the negotiation table.

The Minister of Rites, who was in charge of signing the agreement, stiffly stepped forward, murmuring, “I did not expect Prince Tur to come incognito.”

Tur glanced up, locking eyes with Xiahou Dan through the layers of jade steps.

Truly alone, isolated, surrounded by enemies in a foreign land. Yet, like a seasoned warrior, he sat steadily, holding his ground: “To be honest, I came by the order of King Zhaluo Wahan, but I chose to hide my identity. I have fought many battles with Daxia but never set foot on its land to observe its culture and customs.”

Xiahou Dan smiled kindly, “Oh? And what are your observations?”

Tur: “The Emperor’s fairness at the banquet cleared our name. I believe a virtuous ruler and upright ministers will ensure this alliance lasts.”

He lied with a straight face, and no minister dared to contradict him.

On one hand, it was too late to oppose. On the other, everyone was in a precarious position themselves, too concerned with their own safety to worry about the state of Yan.

From Xiahou Dan and Tur’s exchange, the ministers heard one underlying message: I am the winner.

The Minister of Rites numbly said, “The sincerity of the King of

 Yan and Prince Tur is admirable.”

Xiahou Dan: “Let’s begin.”

An Xian raised the peace treaty, reading aloud: “Heaven cherishes life and abhors war. By concluding this conflict, we lay down our arms…”

Xiahou Dan sat upright.

He had to—his chest was still tightly bandaged, preventing any sudden movements that might reopen his wound.

Before leaving this morning, Yu Wanyin had applied a natural makeup to mask his pallor.

Then she hurried off to check on palace security, the Empress Dowager’s condition, and any movements by Prince Duan.

After she left, Xiahou Dan tried walking a few steps, asking, “Is it obvious?”

Bei Zhou: “Very obvious. You can barely walk, and once you speak, anyone can tell you’re weak. Trust me, you should rest a few more days…”

“No time, delaying could be dangerous.”

To buy him a day of recovery, Yu Wanyin had shouldered a heavy burden overnight. She was as brave and decisive as he had expected, but he hadn’t forgotten that she too was injured, had killed, and witnessed hellish scenes. In the modern world, she would need a blanket and a psychologist.

But he couldn’t provide that.

All he could do was ensure her efforts weren’t in vain.

Xiahou Dan called Xiao Tiancai: “Is there any strong medicine that can invigorate me quickly?”

Bei Zhou angrily objected, “No way! Do you know how much blood you’ve lost? Skipping rest is one thing, but using such harsh medicine is reckless!”

Xiahou Dan only looked at Xiao Tiancai: “Is there or not?”

Xiao Tiancai hesitated, “There is, but as Madam Bei said…”

Xiahou Dan: “Bring it.”

Bei Zhou ignored him for the rest of the morning.

An Xian: “…respect each other’s territories, maintain the alliance, and bring blessings to the people.”

In the pin-drop silence of the hall, both sides sealed the agreement with official stamps.

The treaty was concluded. Tur lifted his head and declared, “May there be no more suffering and destruction between our nations.”

At that moment, the news of the successful peace talk flew out of the palace, carried by messengers, secret letters, and folk songs, spreading quickly from the capital to every corner of the land, reaching the ears of the Yan people.

A month later, King Zhaluo Wahan of Yan would be enraged, denouncing Tur as a traitor. As for the peace treaty, he would claim it was a sham orchestrated by Tur impersonating the envoy, disregarding the honor of their ancestors. He would refuse to recognize it and vow to behead Tur to appease the spirits.

Before Tur could return, Zhaluo Wahan would preemptively strike against Tur’s loyalists.

The remaining Tur supporters would erupt, accusing Zhaluo Wahan of treachery, rallying to install Tur as the new King of Yan.

Two months later, Tur, with the help of Xiahou Dan’s forces, would return to Yan, collaborating with his faction. The civil war would last for months, culminating in Zhaluo Wahan’s death.

Meanwhile, Tur would honor the agreement, opening trade with Daxia. The borderlands would flourish with commerce, becoming prosperous.

Accompanying the fox pelts and spices into Daxia would be carts of Yan millet.

In the court, Xiahou Dan looked down, seeing through Tur the deceased Shanyi and the exiled Wang Zhao.

Everywhere he looked, the dead and the living alike gazed up at him, waiting for him to speak.

He did: “When I was young and naïve, I dreamed of a world where my decisions alone could extend the empire’s glory, ensuring every field was bountiful and every household prosperous.”

He smiled at the ministers: “But the events of recent years, as you all have seen, shattered that dream.”

The ministers had never heard him speak so calmly.

They read between the lines: no more pretense, this is the reckoning.

This opening statement signaled an intent to settle scores. The pro-Empress Dowager ministers, known for manipulating the Emperor, felt their legs go weak, their eyes darting to the exits, calculating their chances of escape.

Xiahou Dan could feel the medicine’s effect wearing off, the warmth in his chest fading, and the familiar pain returning, pulling his consciousness down.

He took a deep breath: “Some say that killing brings peace, that war can end war. But sitting on this throne, every sinner is my subject. The suffering in the world is my responsibility. How many more corpses are needed to secure the nation? How much bloodshed to prosper the country? I don’t know, but I must know. This throne of thorns binds me.”

Everyone was stunned.

Xiahou Dan: “I should not be here. But since I am, there must be a righteous path. The vows I made in my youth, I have not forgotten.”

His gaze swept over the pro-Empress Dowager ministers, then openly towards the pro-Prince Duan faction. For a moment, Mu Yun met his gaze, feeling his eyes burn, hastily looking away.

The Emperor’s eyes were as sharp as ever, yet something had changed. His loneliness, even in defiance, seemed to carry divine justice, making him awe-inspiring.

In that profound moment, a thought flashed through the minds of a few sensitive ministers, like an omen from the heavens—

Perhaps the true Son of Heaven does exist.

Xiahou Dan withdrew his gaze and gave a final smile: “Fortunately, with all of you, my path is not lonely.”

The crowd bowed their heads, shouting long live the Emperor.

The Emperor’s speech subtly conveyed a message: past grievances will be forgiven, those who follow me will prosper, those who oppose me will perish.

Later that day, Mu Yun, mingling with his peers, finally saw the Empress Dowager.

They almost didn’t recognize her.

The woman, just days ago in her prime and exuding regal grace, now lay on the bed with a twisted face, slurred speech, and purple complexion, shouting something that sounded like “death” when she saw Mu Yun.

Mu Yun knelt, slapping his own face in distress: “I deserve death! I didn’t expect Tur to be so cunning, colluding with Prince Duan and escaping capture…”

The Empress Dowager wouldn’t let him off with a few self-inflicted slaps. Her eyes bulged with hatred, still shouting “death.”

The kneeling ministers all pretended not to understand, murmuring for her to take care of her health and calm down.

Even the maid she trusted most stood woodenly by.

Seeing the Empress Dowager’s drooling post-stroke state, the head maid knew the game was over.

Years ago, the previous Empress Dowager died shortly after a stroke. Even further back, Xiahou Dan’s mother, Empress Cizhen, had also died early from a similar affliction.

Whether this stroke had the same cause as those, the head maid dared not ponder nor speculate.

She only thought of how to save her own life now that the Empress Dowager had fallen.

The Empress Dowager shouted hoarsely for a while, finally breaking into sobs, pleading for “help.” A foul smell spread in the air; she had lost control of her bowels.

A few ministers offered perfunctory words of comfort, urging her to rest, and then hurriedly fled.

Outside the palace gates, they exchanged bitter looks.

Someone whispered hopefully: “From what the Emperor said this morning, it seems he doesn’t intend to settle scores yet. He still has Prince Duan as a strong opponent, so he needs to build his own power base…”

“You mean he might try to win us over?”

Mu Yun, with half his face swollen, sneered inwardly but put on an exaggerated expression of fear: “Better resign quickly. The Emperor isn’t afraid of killing his own mother!”

Another minister hesitated: “You have a point. That man is far from benevolent. He isn’t settling scores now because we are still useful to him. Once he defeats Prince Duan, what’s to stop him from turning on us? Resigning early might be the best way to save our lives.”

And so they each made their own plans and went their separate ways. Who among them would flee, and who would pledge loyalty to Xiahou Dan, only time would tell.

Mu Yun didn’t know if his performance had been noticed by Prince Duan’s spies. He hoped they would report accurately, clearing his name as a traitor.

Things seemed to go his way. Prince Duan summoned him again and shared new intelligence: “I sent people to Bei Mountain. There are several large craters in the Xiang Hall, likely from some weapon. The Emperor must have had a hidden ace to escape.”

Mu Yun eagerly offered advice: “In that case, we shouldn’t engage directly. We must strike unexpectedly, giving him no time to react. Remember the plan we discussed earlier?”

Prince Duan was silent.

Silence meant he remembered but was still hesitating.

Mu Yun urged: “Your Highness, we must act quickly before he consolidates power.”

Prince Duan, having plotted for years for legitimacy, had now been forced to act directly after the failed attempt to use Tuer. Even if he succeeded in seizing power, he’d be branded a usurper.

Mu Yun knew his concerns: “Of course, we must have a just cause. I’ll start spreading rumors among the people that the lightning storm was a heavenly warning against the Emperor for killing his mother. Then, we act according to the plan, and the people will believe the tyrant deserved his fate.”

After a long pause, Prince Duan nodded lightly.

While the court officials were on edge, fearing the newly powerful Xiahou Dan, the Emperor they saw as a demon was bedridden.

The potent medicine Xiao Tiancai gave him lasted only until the morning court session ended. Once the effects wore off, he was back to square one.

That day was unusually cold. After days of autumn rain, the wind from the north brought a taste of winter. Bei Zhou busied himself, directing the palace servants to light the floor dragons and replace the quilts, all while ignoring Xiahou Dan.

After the others left, Bei Zhou continued organizing the dark guards.

Xiahou Dan, half-dead in his bed, called out: “Uncle Bei.”

“…”

“Uncle Bei, some water.”

With a loud clink, Bei Zhou slammed a cup of hot water on the bedside table, splashing a few drops.

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Yu Wanyin, meanwhile, had to play her part, pretending to know nothing.

After leaving, she was pulled aside by other terrified concubines, whispering gossip. They circled the Empress Dowager’s quarters, failing to get an audience, then peeked around the Emperor’s quarters, only to be turned away by guards.

After going through the motions, she was so cold she couldn’t feel her toes, rubbing her hands and saying her final line: “It seems we won’t get any information today. Let’s disperse.”

A pretty young concubine clung to her arm.

The young beauty smiled sweetly: “Sister Yu, don’t worry. We should hear something by tonight.”

Yu Wanyin: “Huh?”

The group shared knowing smiles. Another concubine linked arms on her other side, whispering: “Sister, with the Empress Dowager ill and no one to send the contraceptive soup, it’s the perfect time to try for a dragon heir.”

“Yes, I learned a fashionable peony makeup look recently, I can do it for you.”

“Don’t be silly, Sister Yu is already beautiful. Heavy makeup would only detract from her looks! Remember the last flower festival? That Concubine Xie, no matter how much she primped, looked ridiculous next to Sister Yu. I have some rose water, try it…”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She remembered now, before the chaos on Bei Mountain, the palace drama had just reached her restoration to favor.

With the Empress Dowager’s fall, the political quake had shaken the back palace as well.

Suddenly, Yu Wanyin became the focal point of flattery.

The young beauty, whose father and brothers were in the Empress Dowager’s camp, had once sided with Concubine Shu to oppress Yu Wanyin. Now, she was frantic to curry favor, fearing Yu Wanyin’s rise might lead to revenge and implicate her family.

Yet, there were also those who, with bravado, cautioned with a sneer: “Imperial favor is fickle, sister. Best to be cautious.”

Yu Wanyin remembered this was originally a palace intrigue novel.

But she still couldn’t recall all their names.

Facing the various expressions of the concubines, the infamous enchantress Yu Wanyin finally said: “I think the competitive nature in the palace, whether about looks or family background, isn’t very friendly.”

The concubines: “?”

Yu Wanyin: “And historically, the average lifespan in the palace is short. This situation isn’t good for anyone. I have a proposal. How about we introduce table tennis or something? Channel that competitive spirit into something meaningful. Friendship first, competition second, improve physical health, and take care of mental well-being.”

Silence.

After a while, the young beauty asked: “What is table tennis?”

When the group finally dispersed, Yu Wanyin returned through the tunnel under Xiahou Dan’s bed.

As soon as she poked her head up, the warmth hit her like a wave.

The floor dragons made the inner room as warm as spring, and above, she heard Xiahou Dan’s low voice: “…If the imperial physicians can’t manage, you step in. Make sure the Empress Dowager lasts at least a month.”

Xiao Tiancai: “I will do my best.”

Xie Yong’er’s voice added, full of resentment from her past grievances with the Empress Dowager: “May I ask why?”

Xiahou Dan: “No.”

Yu Wanyin, lying under the bed, fell into deep thought.

The memorials from the Empress Dowager’s faction in the past two days could flood the imperial study—pleas for mercy, resignations, accusations to eliminate rivals—it was utter chaos. Xiahou Dan read them all carefully and scheduled meetings with them.

In hindsight, Yu Wanyin realized Xiahou Dan had another reason for sparing the Empress Dowager: to provide a buffer period, smoothly taking over her power base.

With Prince Duan as a formidable enemy and their own forces weak, the immediate priority was to rapidly strengthen their ranks. The most easily swayed allies at this time were those whose interests were now threatened—the remnants of the Empress Dowager’s faction.

To rashly target them now would be to inflict heavy losses on themselves, inadvertently benefiting Prince Duan. The ideal of purging the court would have to wait for a more opportune time.

Although Yu Wanyin hadn’t personally dealt with those ministers, she had read about them in the text. They flattered and deceived Xiahou Dan, outwardly exploiting his name for their gain, never ceasing their sinister tricks. Even as an observer, she had wished to fast-forward to the reckoning.

But Xiahou Dan held back.

Whether on Bei Mountain at death’s door or now, commanding respect and power, every decision he made was, upon reflection, the best possible choice.

In terms of temperament and vision, he was indeed an excellent emperor.

—perhaps a bit too excellent.

Who would believe this was an actor who had just arrived a year ago?

Xie Yong’er, silent for a while, finally grasped the deeper implications and muttered, “Ruthless.”

Ruthless to others, even more so to himself.

Xiahou Dan asked, “Which ones in the Empress Dowager’s faction are Prince Duan’s spies?”

Xie Yong’er: “…”

Xiahou Dan: “Don’t hesitate, make a list and hand it over. You’re already on our side. If Prince Duan doesn’t die, you will. Share any information you have.”

Xie Yong’er swallowed her pride, “Understood.”

Xiao Tiancai followed Xie Yong’er out, his steps slowing as he stared at her back.

“Madam.”

Xie Yong’er turned around.

The young man hesitated for a long time: “Weren’t you moved by the Emperor’s sincerity?”

Given Xiahou Dan’s recent performance, it seemed he had practically branded her a “tool.”

Xie Yong’er looked at Xiao Tiancai’s innocent face and sighed bitterly: “There’s no such thing as true love. I switched sides to survive, hoping to live until they determine a victor.”

Her words sounded so bleak that Xiao Tiancai was at a loss for how to react.

Picking up the pieces of her dignity, she took a deep breath: “Let’s go.”

From behind came a quiet voice: “After they decide the winner… then what?”

Xie Yong’er heard the underlying hope in his voice.

But her resolve had already waned, and she had no energy for games. She shrugged: “Probably find a way to escape.”

Xiao Tiancai fell silent.

Xie Yong’er looked up at the sky framed by the eaves: “Isn’t it funny? I wanted to possess this world, yet I don’t even know what it looks like.”

Inside.

Yu Wanyin crawled out from under the bed: “Is the meeting over?”

“Yes,” Xiahou Dan said, leaning against the headboard.

With warmth returning to her limbs, Yu Wanyin felt revitalized. She sat on the bed’s edge, sipping tea, frowning at Xiahou Dan: “Is it my imagination, or do you look worse than this morning?”

Before Xiahou Dan could answer, Bei Zhou, standing by the wall, suddenly snorted coldly.

Xiahou Dan shot Bei Zhou a quick look. The look said: don’t tell her about the medicine.

Bei Zhou snorted louder and left.

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Xiahou Dan: “It’s nothing, just the wound healing slowly. The poison from Qiang is powerful. Surviving is already a miracle.”

Yu Wanyin narrowed her eyes at him, drawing out her words: “Dan, why do you always keep things from me?”

Whether this had a double meaning, only Yu Wanyin knew.

Xiahou Dan gave a stiff smile: “What do you mean?”

Unconsciously, Yu Wanyin had learned to read much from his expressions and even his eyes.

Yesterday, he had come back from the brink of death, his mental state surprisingly calm. But now, his ink-black eyes were clouded, as if enduring something in silence.

Yu Wanyin: “Does your head hurt again?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan: “How did you know?”

“I know more than you think.”

Yu Wanyin didn’t get the reaction she expected. Xiahou Dan played dumb, smiling: “You never cease to amaze me.”

Yu Wanyin, failing to bait him, gave up the topic: “Lie down, I’ll massage you.”

Though massages didn’t alleviate his headache, he liked the idea and willingly moved his head closer. Yu Wanyin warmed her hands and skillfully pressed his temples: “Close your eyes.”

Xiahou Dan complied, pretending to nap.

Outside, the wind howled, making the room feel even more serene.

After a long while, Xiahou Dan spoke softly: “Are you okay?”

“Me?”

“Those people who died on the mountain—they were doomed regardless. Even if they completed their task, Prince Duan would have silenced them. Their deaths aren’t your fault.”

Yu Wanyin’s movements slowed.

She laughed softly: “Are you giving me a psychological counseling session?”

Xiahou Dan looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“We went through the same ordeal. If anyone needs counseling, it should be mutual.” She lightly patted his forehead, “It wasn’t your fault either.”

Xiahou Dan continued staring at her until she felt uneasy.

She touched her face: “Is there something on my face?”

“Nothing.” Xiahou Dan finally looked away, “Just a bit of fragrance.”

“Fragrance?” Yu Wanyin sniffed herself and laughed, “That’s the rose water your lovely concubines sprayed on me.”

“Why did they spray it on you?”

Yu Wanyin remembered the suggestion to “try for a dragon heir” and blushed: “No reason.”

“Tell me.”

“Is your headache gone? Then I’ll be leaving.”

Xiahou Dan quickly grabbed her skirt: “Don’t go, I won’t ask anymore…”

A dark guard holding a secret letter arrived at the door and saw the injured emperor playing tug-of-war with the enchantress.

The guard hesitated, ready to leave, but Xiahou Dan noticed the shadow: “What is it?”

Yu Wanyin quickly straightened up.

The Dark Guard handed over the letter, “A letter from Mr. Bai.”

Yu Wanyin: “A Bai?”

The Dark Guard presented the letter, glancing curiously at Yu Wanyin, noticing she made no move to avoid it, and Xiahou Dan didn’t send her away either. He couldn’t help but wonder what made her so special that the Emperor, who had kept his distance from women for years, was now so enamored with her.

Xiahou Dan had already opened the letter and glanced at its contents.

The Dark Guard heard him actually explain to Yu Wanyin, “I asked A Bai to send people to assist Tur, and he replied that it’s been done.”

“Send people?”

“His friends from the martial world.”

Yu Wanyin suddenly understood, “So that was A Bai’s task? The reinforcements you promised Tur are martial artists? Wait, isn’t A Bai just recently out of apprenticeship? How did he rally so many people?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan evasively replied, “He has his methods.”

Yu Wanyin remarked, “A Bai is quite impressive.”

Xiahou Dan pursed his lips, not responding, and shook the envelope. A few pills fell out, followed by an unexpected item.

A silver hairpin, carved into the shape of a bird in flight, with two long feathers dangling instead of tassels.

This was clearly not meant for the Emperor.

Xiahou Dan’s expression darkened, “Lark.”

He handed the hairpin to Yu Wanyin, “For you. He said your birthday is coming up, and this is a gift.”

The Dark Guard’s eyes widened. Was it really appropriate for him to witness such a scene? Giving a gift to the Emperor’s woman right in front of him?

Yu Wanyin was amused, “He really isn’t afraid of death.”

No, my lady, you shouldn’t be worrying about whether he’s afraid of death. Are you not afraid yourself?

Yu Wanyin weighed the hairpin in her hand, seeing Xiahou Dan’s face that screamed “if you wear it, I’ll kill A Bai,” she quickly set it aside and reassured, “Don’t be angry. He doesn’t mean it that way. He’s just an unrestrained martial artist who considers me a friend…”

Xiahou Dan grumbled, “Only a few days together, and he calls you a friend.”

Yu Wanyin found his jealousy amusing, thinking, finally, your facade of composure is slipping.

The Dark Guard could see her smiling and felt like he was about to have a heart attack.

Yu Wanyin leaned close to Xiahou Dan’s ear, “Your Majesty.”

Xiahou Dan, tickled by her breath, turned his head away. Yu Wanyin, like a persistent fox spirit, followed him, whispering, “Your Majesty… he’s just like my little sister.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

The Dark Guard: “?”

What did you just say?

Yu Wanyin continued to tease, “He said purple is very stylish.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan chuckled, “You…”

The Dark Guard thought numbly: Maybe this is what it means to be enchanted.

After a day of rest, Xiahou Dan finally recovered enough to get out of bed and resumed his dignified demeanor to deal with the Empress Dowager’s faction.

Yu Wanyin enjoyed a long-overdue sleep, and upon waking, skillfully changed into male attire, quietly leaving the palace with the Dark Guard after ensuring they weren’t being followed.

Outside the capital, in a cemetery, a new gravestone had been added.

The pit in front of the stone was still unfilled, with an empty coffin beside it.

As Yu Wanyin stepped out of the carriage, several people were already waiting: Li Yunxi, Yang Duojie, Erlan, and an unfamiliar elderly couple.

The wind was even colder than the day before, making their robes flutter. The elderly couple, hunched and supporting each other, looked at the others with swollen, lifeless eyes. They seemed unaware of their surroundings until Yu Wanyin approached, and the old woman slightly raised her head, murmuring, “Are you all colleagues of my son?”

To avoid Prince Duan’s spies, everyone had disguised themselves before leaving the city, and they couldn’t use their real names. Even the name on the gravestone was an alias used by Wang Zhao when he entered the court.

Yang Duojie stepped forward, “Uncle and Auntie, we are all close friends of Brother Wang, here to see him off.”

Though calling them friends was a stretch.

Wang Zhao was like an old man, always meticulous in speech, so steady he was almost boring, and never close to anyone. Moreover, soon after entering the court, he had gone alone to Yan Kingdom.

The elderly couple was comforted by the words, “Good, good, at least he has so many friends to see him off.”

They shakily opened their bundle, placing a stack of clothes in the coffin, arranging them in the shape of a person.

As the guards began to fill the pit, Yu Wanyin felt a chill on her nose and looked up. Snowflakes, the first of the year, were beginning to fall.

Li Yunxi, who had gritted his teeth to buy a good bottle of wine that morning, now poured a cup and sang, “The clear waters of the river flow, above them the maple trees grow. Gazing a thousand miles, my heart breaks with sorrow. Soul, return, soul, return! Oh the mournful south…”

The elderly couple wailed in grief at his somber and desolate song.

Yu Wanyin stood quietly, suddenly recalling a long-ago day when she had been humming a tune and Wang Zhao had overheard. He had hesitated before commenting, “Your Grace sings with the suffering of the people.”

That was their only interaction.

What kind of person Wang Zhao was, his ambitions, whether he had a loved one, what he thought of as he lay dying facing the direction of Xia, she didn’t know.

Only that the road was long, and his grave was nameless.

When Li Yunxi finished singing, he poured the wine on the grave, saying, “Brother Wang, the sky is your canopy, the mountains and rivers your hall, the sun and moon your candles, the trees and grass your beams. You are home.”

The others took turns with the wine, paying their respects.

Li Yunxi poured another cup, “This is from Brother Cen.”

Yu Wanyin stepped aside for the elderly couple to mourn privately and motioned for the ministers to follow her.

She whispered, “What’s wrong with Cen Jintian?”

Li Yunxi sighed, “Not well.”

He sighed, “Yesterday, he was happy to hear about the Yan millet, planning to come today. But today, he couldn’t get out of bed.”

When Yu Wanyin returned to the palace, Xiahou Dan had already met with two groups of people and brought back some news: “Minister Yu is trying to get a message to you.”

Yu Wanyin was distracted, “Who is Minister Yu?”

“…Your father.”

“Oh, almost forgot.”

“He seems to be faring poorly under Prince Duan, seeing an opportunity here and trying to switch sides. He was just a minor character in the original story, right? Maybe give him a…”

Xiahou Dan paused.

Yu Wanyin looked at him.

Xiahou Dan: “Have you been crying?”

“No.” Yu Wanyin’s eyes were indeed dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried.

She told him about Cen Jintian.

Xiahou Dan reminded her, “He was supposed to die of illness.”

“But in the original story, he lived until summer, dying when the drought hit.”

“That was because he hoped to see a good harvest, holding on. Now he knows about the drought and that the people will survive it, so he has no regrets.” Xiahou Dan’s voice was calm, “It’s a happy ending for him.”

Yu Wanyin felt frustrated.

She wanted to argue that it couldn’t be a happy ending, that they had promised Cen Jintian he would live to see peace and prosperity. But even when making that promise, they knew time was running out, that the vision was likely unattainable.

But before she could speak, Xiahou Dan, as if anticipating her words, spoke with a tone of gentle guidance: “Yu Wanyin, never forget they are just characters. Forget that, and you’ll be crushed.”

As the mournful singing and wailing still echoed in her ears, the term “characters” felt particularly jarring.

Yu Wanyin blurted out, “You didn’t react that way when you heard about Wang Zhao’s death on Bei Mountain.”

Xiahou Dan’s gaze darkened for a moment: “That’s why I need to remind myself.”

Yu Wanyin was at a loss for words.

Xiahou Dan seemed to consider the conversation over: “It’s dangerous outside lately. Don’t leave the palace again. You can send someone if you want to check on Cen Jintian. Oh, and should I summon your father for a meeting?”

“No.” Yu Wanyin took a deep breath, “If I don’t see him, he’ll always be just a character.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

He suddenly remembered he had once promised her that she would never need to change.

It was he who had broken that promise.

He didn’t want to see her in pain, so he tried to strip her of the right to feel it.

After several seconds, Xiahou Dan asked softly, “How about hot pot tonight?”

“…Huh?”

Xiahou Dan smiled, “Haven’t you always wanted to gather three people, have hot pot, and play Dou Dizhu? Now we have Xie Yong’er, and I can get Uncle Bei to join us. We can teach him how to play cards.”

Yu Wanyin forced herself to come out of her emotions, “Your wound isn’t healed yet, can you handle spicy food?”

“We can make a dual-flavor pot.” Xiahou Dan had an inexplicable obsession with hot pot.

Darkness fell quickly, and the dim, warm light of palace lanterns illuminated the falling snow.

Yu Wanyin went to the side hall to find Xie Yong’er. To prevent her from being silenced by Prince Duan, Xie Yong’er was officially said to be sick and confined, but in reality, she was hiding alone in Xiahou Dan’s side hall, with no one to talk to all day.

Xiahou Dan followed her into the courtyard, waving away the servants holding umbrellas. He turned toward the room where Bei Zhou was, but hesitated to move.

After a long while, he brushed the snow off his shoulders and knocked on the door: “Uncle, want to have hot pot?”

The door opened, and Bei Zhou looked at him expressionlessly.

The so-called tyrant bowed his head and said, “Don’t be mad, taking the medicine was the only option at the time.”

Bei Zhou sighed silently.

Xiahou Dan continued, “…Uncle.”

A weight pressed on his head as Bei Zhou patted him, “I’ve said before, you are Nan’er’s child, so you are my child. I have no other family in this world and have spent all my efforts to protect you, not for the sake of the country or the world. If you shorten your life one more time for this damn throne, I will tie you up and take you away to live the rest of our days at the ends of the earth. Do you understand? Now, let’s go.”

Without waiting for a response, Bei Zhou walked away.

Xiahou Dan stood by the door, still bowing his head.