At this moment, the moon over the capital hung high above the city tower. It was once again late spring in the State of Yan, and the pear blossoms on Qiuyan Mountain were already spread across the hills.

The streets were decorated with lanterns and festoons, bustling with excitement, for joyful news from the northern border came one after another. It was said that the army had won a great victory, and this year the frost disasters in many places, the people’s hunger, and the shortage of grain had all been greatly alleviated. So compared to last year, the common people were far more joyful, every household coming out to release river lanterns, hoping for long-lasting peace and prosperous livelihoods.

Su Xi looked at the familiar capital, and among the faces of the many little cartoon characters, there were even some she still remembered. The small stall selling rouge was still set up in the marketplace, the same as last year. Many feelings rose within her heart.

Last year, the entire State of Yan was nothing like this, for it was beset by both internal and external troubles. Outside, they faced invasions from neighboring countries; within, natural disasters and calamities. Even the capital beneath the feet of the Son of Heaven had many who starved to death. Though the streets had many people, most moved about hurriedly in a state of panic. But now, these little common folk were relaxed from the inside out…

Among this, Zai Zai truly had great merit.

Thus, aside from the game’s single-minded goal of pushing Zai Zai onto the imperial throne, Zai Zai was also suited to ascend that position and bring peace to the State of Yan.

Thinking this, Su Xi glanced at the diligent Chang Gong Wu and the other little cartoon characters. As Zai Zai’s farmstead gradually expanded into several prefectures, Chang Gong Wu had become increasingly busy. He was extremely capable at handling chores but simply could not act as a manager. Fortunately, before leaving the capital, Zai Zai had the foresight to entrust overall management to Zhong Ganping. So now, with the farmstead gradually expanding to dozens of locations, the novel techniques of cold-proof sheds and greenhouse structures had slowly taken root in Yan, initially resolving the nationwide grain shortage caused by the disasters.

Of course, cultivating grain and improving the land still had to be done step by step.

Upon hearing that the Zhenyuan Army would return to the capital soon, Chang Gong Wu and the others lit lamps and prepared a celebratory banquet at the house outside the capital, joyfully waiting for Young Master Lu to return.

Those officials from the Ministry of War who had once served under Zai Zai did not show anything on their faces, yet they could not help discussing how Lu Huan had rendered great military merit in the army, wondering whether upon this return he might truly be promoted and ennobled. Their hearts were filled with mixed feelings — some jealousy, yet also genuine admiration.

Yun Xiupang was also extremely excited, pacing back and forth in his mansion, repeatedly asking the servants why the Zhenyuan Army had yet to enter the city.

Su Xi swept her gaze over these familiar people, sincerely proud and happy for Zai Zai. From the illegitimate son of Prince Ning’s residence all the way until now — it had truly not been easy.

Zai Zai’s friends were also Su Xi’s friends, only they did not know of her existence. In the past, whenever Su Xi logged in, she would switch the interface directly to the northern border, so now one could say she was accompanying Zai Zai back to the capital. Naturally, she could not resist looking at each familiar little figure one by one.

Casually stealing a skewer of candied hawthorn from the marketplace, Su Xi eagerly switched the interface to look for Zai Zai.

The army had just arrived outside the capital and was currently encamped there; they had to wait for the emperor’s summons before they could enter the city.

Su Xi searched inside the tents of the encamped army but did not find Lu Huan. He must have gone somewhere else. So she opened the map to look, and discovered that Lu Huan was in the imperial palace, inside the Yangxin Hall.

She had only been away for one afternoon, what had happened?

Su Xi was startled, instinctively fearing that the emperor intended to do something to Lu Huan, so she hurriedly switched the interface.

As soon as she entered the Yangxin Hall, she found that all the eunuchs and attendants had been dismissed. Only two figures remained inside — the emperor and Zai Zai speaking with one another. Zai Zai must have been brought here by the emperor’s men as soon as he arrived outside the capital with the army.

Upon entering, Su Xi saw Zai Zai standing before the emperor under the candlelight, safe and sound, and only then did she breathe a little easier.

The emperor was only in his early forties, not yet old, yet the gaze with which he looked at Zai Zai carried a deep weariness. The vast Yangxin Hall felt boundless and empty. Zai Zai’s figure already stood taller and straighter than his. Though he was the Son of Heaven, seated upon that throne, it was also a kind of restraint. So much so that, with the flickering lights, Su Xi actually saw a trace of loneliness within his inscrutable expression.

Su Xi rarely saw this emperor show anything on his face other than dignity, anger, or inscrutable depth. Although she did not know what he was thinking at this moment, it felt as if he wanted to take two steps closer to Zai Zai — yet the distance at which Zai Zai stood before him was a perfectly safe and detached distance between ruler and subject. So he clenched his fist and forcibly restrained himself.

The emperor fixed his gaze on Lu Huan for a long moment before finally speaking: “You look very much like her.”

Lu Huan remained silent.

He had no memory of Consort Qing. Everyone in the court spoke of her with secrecy, so naturally he could find out nothing. And because he had no memories, this suddenly revealed background was like duckweed drifting in the wind — even though it stirred ripples in his heart as it passed, it could not leave any truly deep feeling within him.

The emperor stared at Lu Huan, complicated emotions surging in his eyes. After pausing briefly, he said to him: “At court tomorrow, I will restore your identity as a prince. Though I cannot ensure your mother-consort’s peace, I will certainly guarantee yours.”

The emperor spoke with solemnity, each word almost worth a thousand gold.

Yet Lu Huan felt a trace of mockery in his heart. The first half might be true, but the second half could not be trusted. Protect him? The emperor, though seated upon the throne of the Nine-Five, could not even protect the woman he loved most — how could he possibly protect him? If he had truly protected with all his strength, Consort Qing would not have died so cold and tragically back then. Moreover, now that he wished to restore Lu Huan’s identity, the emperor clearly had other calculations, did he not?

To him, throughout his life, the only one who had brought him a lamp of warm, golden light when he was at his lowest…

Lu Huan’s expression was calm. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The emperor parted his lips, seeming as though he still wanted to speak, but upon seeing the youth’s indifferent face, he abruptly froze. After a moment of quiet, he turned his back and waved his hand. “Enough, you may withdraw.”

Lu Huan took his leave and turned around.

Once he turned, Su Xi saw the emperor let out a sigh, standing alone in the Yangxin Hall for a long while, his figure somewhat lonely.

Su Xi did not know the past events back then, but in this instant, she felt that the emperor must have truly cared for Zai Zai’s mother-consort. Yet no matter what entanglements existed in the previous generation, everything had already passed. The one abandoned in Prince Ning’s manor, the one enduring humiliation since childhood, had been Zai Zai. Even if the emperor felt some guilt in his heart, he had never seen with his own eyes the mire in which Zai Zai lived in Prince Ning’s residence — he could never truly empathize.

See, even though he had decided to acknowledge Zai Zai, he did not even know the suffering Zai Zai endured in Prince Ning’s manor. Perhaps he knew — but since he claimed publicly that the Ninth Prince had been raised in the Changchun Temple from childhood, he could not confront Prince Ning’s manor under the banner of “mistreating a prince,” lest he slap his own face.

Thinking this, Su Xi’s heart stung sourly. She still felt that innocent Zai Zai was the most pitiful.

Zai Zai had already left the Yangxin Hall and was crossing the Imperial Garden. Su Xi followed after him and tugged his sleeve.

Lu Huan seemed to sense something. He lifted the curtain, looking at her through it. As soon as the curtain opened, he saw her pursing her lips, looking at him with worry.

The jealousy he had felt earlier — because she went on that blind date, because her head had been close to someone else’s — vanished instantly.

Even if he was acknowledged by his father-emperor and mother-consort, he would receive not an ounce of genuine affection.

He only had her.

His life had two sides: the dark and burdened side, like his roots; and the bright, gentle side, like the straw pulling him upward. And that entire bright side — was all her.

Su Xi had no idea what Lu Huan was thinking, but she wanted to comfort him. So after thinking hard, she said to him: “Look on the bright side. Becoming a prince isn’t all bad. At least, from now on, we can go to the Taixue openly and confidently. We can show off in front of those two brats, Lu Wenxiu and the other one. And you can wear even more luxurious clothes. The emperor said he would protect you — if anything happens in the future, he’ll probably side with you a little.”

Lu Huan gave a faint smile. “How much of the Son of Heaven’s words can be trusted?”

He walked leisurely beneath the night sky, lifting his gaze to look at Su Xi. “A ruler of a nation possesses too much, encounters too many temptations, and thus gradually loses his original heart. Perhaps when he first met Consort Qing, he was struck for an instant, and afterwards there was companionship and closeness. But if Consort Qing were still alive, perhaps she would have become like the other consorts, long turned into a cast-off wife. It is precisely because she is gone, because the emperor never obtained her, never protected her, that this guilt turns Consort Qing into the eternal white moonlight in his heart.”

Hearing someone so young speak with such clarity, Su Xi couldn’t help finding it amusing. “You speak as if you understand everything. Then what about you?”

A ruler of a nation — the Son of Heaven is heartless. Zaizai had chosen to continue completing the task and walk down such a path. Then this fate, would it not be his own final destination?

A complicated feeling welled up in Su Xi’s heart.

Her question had only been casually asked, but she did not expect Lu Huan to stop in his tracks. On the pebble path, amid the garden full of pear blossoms, he turned to look at her.

As if guessing her thoughts, he couldn’t help defending himself.

“I am not like him.”

Lu Huan said in a low voice, “I am different from everyone else. I want only that one. If I cannot obtain her, then I want no one.”

He made an effort to convey the meaning of this sentence clearly into Su Xi’s ears.

He gazed at her, his pitch-black eyes in the night seeming to contain countless unspoken, indescribable emotions. That steady gaze, through the screen, across a thousand years, landed firmly on Su Xi’s face.

As if forcing her to face this question directly, his beautiful eyes did not blink, not even a fraction, like a deep vortex that made Su Xi inexplicably flush red.

She felt as if there was a thin layer of paper between them, and he had just poked through it for the first time.

Wait—

Su Xi suddenly remembered: in those days when they returned from the Ministry of War’s camp, when Lu Huan was still in the form of a little dumpling, he had been extremely awkward, his emotions unpredictable. Back then, under the eaves of the Ministry of War, with candlelight flickering warm and yellow, he had said to her: “If one day, I meet a good, well-educated young lady, and I grow fond of her, would you still hope for me to marry and grow old with… someone else?”

At the time, Su Xi had looked at the faintly drifting light in his eyes and felt that his question was inexplicably strange.

…But now, perhaps because her mindset had quietly changed, recalling it again tonight, she finally noticed the word “someone else” in what he said back then.

Su Xi’s breath suddenly grew rapid, her heart pounding like a drum.

Lu Huan continued staring at her, refusing to look away, as if stubbornly waiting for some answer — even if it took until the end of time.

Though he forced himself to remain calm, not letting anything show, the long fingers hidden within his sleeves were tightly clenched in nervousness.