The night rain was damp, washing over the eaves. Through the gauze window, an orange-yellow glow from inside the room was reflected. Shang Rong set down the candlestick and looked at the bedding spread out on the floor.

The youth had just carried the quilt back from her room. After closing the door and turning around, he saw that she had already lain down.

He paused, then walked closer to her and said, “Go sleep on the bed.”

Resting on a soft pillow, Shang Rong shook her head. “Your injuries aren’t healed yet. You sleep on the bed. I’ve never slept like this before—it seems quite nice.”

What was nice about sleeping on the floor?

Zhezhu did not understand.

“Get up.” He said.

But she refused to get up no matter what, so he could only unfold the quilt and toss it over her. Shang Rong poked her head out from the quilt, just as the candlestick on the table was extinguished by the gust from the youth’s palm, and the room instantly grew much dimmer.

Only the lantern in the corridor remained lit, its light and shadow spilling faintly through the doors and windows.

The sound of rain drifted faintly into her ears, yet Shang Rong felt at peace within, and so it seemed like music that lulled one to sleep. She closed her eyes and, before she knew it, sank into deep slumber.

The youth on the bed was also extremely tired. Placing the soft sword beside his pillow, he drifted drowsily into sleep for a while. But when several faint murmurs of sleep were added to the quiet room, he opened his eyes at once.

The lantern outside was already flickering on the verge of going out, its dim, wavering light revealing the girl curled up beneath the bed in the quilt.

He sat up. In that dense shadow where the lanternlight could not reach, he silently observed her back. After a moment, he stepped barefoot off the bed and lifted her up, wrapped in the quilt.

Her body suddenly suspended in the air, Shang Rong opened her eyes at once. Still not fully awake, she looked at his face in confusion.

“Is sleeping on the floor fun?”

His voice was more pleasant than the cold, tinkling rain outside the eaves.

Shang Rong had not yet fully awakened, nor did she know whether he was in a dream or outside it. On a rainy night, though the cotton quilt wrapped around her was clearly warm, she always felt a little cold.

The youth turned while holding her and placed her onto the bed.

Inside the quilt he lifted was warmth, carrying the mixed scent of medicinal fragrance from his body and the fresh, snow-soaked bamboo leaves. Shang Rong curled within it and watched him lie down where she had originally been sleeping.

“Zhezhu…”

Shang Rong called out to him.

One hand pillowed behind his head, the youth closed his eyes and ignored her.

Shang Rong now knew that sleeping on the floor was not good at all. Even with two layers of bedding underneath, after falling asleep it was still somewhat cold and very hard.

Her chin resting on the soft cotton quilt, she suddenly said, “Do you want to…”

The youth opened his eyes almost the instant she began to speak and cut her off—

“No.”

He did not even look at her, only turned onto his side with his back facing her.

How could a sixteen-year-old youth accustomed to killing and drinking blood understand the boundaries between men and women? He did not understand why such boundaries were necessary. He only instinctively felt his heart pound for no reason because of the unspoken latter half of her sentence.

In the dim light, the youth’s thin eyelids trembled slightly.

Before long, he heard the rustling sound of fabric brushing. Before he could turn his head, a quilt was already draped over him, followed by his outer robe, and even her cloak piled on top of him.

The fluffy rabbit-fur trim lightly brushed his jaw. The room grew so quiet that not a single sound remained. The youth opened his eyes—outside, the candle inside the lantern had burned down completely, the flame extinguished.

A night of rain in Shuqing, a night of wind in Yongxing.

Within the Yongxing traveling palace, palace lanterns shone as bright as day. The Chunsheng Emperor, clad in a snow-white daoist robe embroidered with silver-thread dragon patterns, sat upright upon the golden dragon throne.

After a long journey of boats and carriages, the Chunsheng Emperor was already exhausted in both body and mind. Yet upon hearing that He Zhongting had arrived in the night with urgent matters to report, he still rose. Now, looking down from above, he examined He Zhongting, Commander of the Lingxiao Guard, who was kowtowing below, and said, “Minister He means to say that those who attempted to assassinate me and Mingyue in Nanzhou that day were two separate groups?”

“Your Majesty, according to the confession of the remnants of the rebel army captured in Nanzhou by this subject’s son, He Xingjin, the one they intended to assassinate that day was only Your Majesty. They did not abduct Princess Mingyue.”

He Zhongting lowered his head and replied respectfully.

One hand resting on his knee, the Chunsheng Emperor said, “And how does Minister He know that what they say is the truth?”

“Your Majesty knows the temperament of the rebel leader, Xie Zhou. If Princess Mingyue were truly in his hands, he would surely announce it to the world and make it known to all.”

The Xie clan of Lanxuan in the northwest had once followed the founding emperor of Dayan to expand the realm and establish meritorious deeds. When the realm was first settled, Xie Zhou’s great-grandfather had been granted the title of the only non-imperial-surname king of Dayan, commanding the entire northwest.

Later, to prevent the Xie clan from growing too powerful, the fourth emperor of Dayan, Emperor Wenzong, issued an edict to reduce the feudal domains, causing the Lanxuan Xie clan to fall from a non-imperial royal house into ruin overnight.

However, although their domain had been reduced, the Xie family army they had raised over many years remained utterly loyal. From private soldiers of a royal house, they became rebels, following the Xie clan to occupy the northwest for many years, opposing the court at every turn.

“If it was not the rebels, then tell me, Minister He—who else could have abducted Mingyue?” The Chunsheng Emperor’s hand curled tight, creasing the robe over his knee.

“Your Majesty…”

He Zhongting hesitated.

“Speak.” The Chunsheng Emperor’s brows knitted.

He Zhongting lowered his head once more. “Previously, when this subject was in Nanzhou, I instructed my son Xingjin to conceal the matter of the princess’s disappearance. However, in the family letter he sent yesterday, he wrote that news of the princess’s disappearance has already leaked. Your Majesty knows the capabilities of those of the jianghu. The bait Xingjin cast has drawn out quite a number of jianghu people.”

As he spoke, he took something from his sleeve and presented it. “Your Majesty, please look.”

At the side of the dragon throne stood a eunuch. At the mere lift of the Chunsheng Emperor’s hand, he immediately descended the steps, took the item from He Zhongting, and presented it before the throne.

A biting wind struck against the vermilion window lattice. Under the lamplight, the Chunsheng Emperor unfolded the portraits one by one. The identities and names were all different, yet the outline sketched upon each was always the same face.

The Chunsheng Emperor’s expression grew darker and darker, until he turned to the final item and found a letter. Drawing out the paper and unfolding it, he scanned it quickly—then slammed it fiercely onto the table. “Good! The son raised by Xue Zhong truly has great audacity! He actually dares to harm my princess right under my very eyes!”

“Your Majesty, calm your anger!”

He Zhongting bent down. He had intended to say more, but the Chunsheng Emperor was already in a towering rage. After a moment’s consideration, he held his tongue.

“He Zhongting, I command you to immediately dispatch riders at full speed back to Yujing, bearing my decree to interrogate Xue Zhong and his son, Xue Nongyu. They must be made to reveal Mingyue’s whereabouts,” the Chunsheng Emperor stood up. “Whether Mingyue is dead or alive, I will make the Xue family pay the price!”

Worried over Princess Mingyue’s whereabouts, the Chunsheng Emperor had been dispirited and lacking appetite throughout the journey from Nanzhou to Yongxing. Now, in the midst of his great anger, a wave of dizziness struck him, and he swayed as though about to collapse.

“Your Majesty!”

The eunuch at his side cried out, summoning attendants to help the emperor to the dragon couch, and hurried to fetch the pills of Great Master Ling Shuang.

As He Zhongting exited the traveling palace, a young man came leading a horse.

“My lord, since you are worried about Lord Xue, why did you still present the news sent by the Qianhu?” Seeing his poor complexion, the young man understood the reason.

“The Lingxiao Guard belongs to His Majesty. Since I am the Commander personally appointed by His Majesty, I should act in all things for His Majesty,” He Zhongting did not intend to mount the horse, but walked forward with his hands behind his back. “Besides, Xue Zhong’s son truly was bold this time—actually daring to bribe jianghu people to assassinate Princess Mingyue.”

“His Majesty’s favor and affection for Princess Mingyue are known throughout the realm. That Xue Nongyu would dare take such a risk—he must have done it for his elder sister, Xue Danshuang.”

In the cold night, the wind blew sharply. He Zhongting’s face was full of complicated emotion. After a slow sigh, he said, “This time, the Xue family truly faces great calamity. I cannot save them, nor may I.”

“This time, the Qianhu also ordered this subordinate to inform you—the letter is indeed in Xue Nongyu’s own hand, but the jianghu sect he entrusted in the letter has been obscured with ink. I fear there may be more trouble within.”

Leading the horse as he followed behind, the young man reported.

“This matter must still begin with Xue Nongyu.”

He Zhongting rubbed his brow. “Go back to Zijia’s side for now.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

No one knew when the night rain ended. Sunlight broke through the dense morning mist and filled the window, and the noisy voices downstairs in the inn woke Shang Rong from her sleep.

“Young Master Zhezhu?”

Mengshi’s voice suddenly came from outside the door. He knocked urgently. “Young Master, something’s wrong! I just knocked on Susu’s door for a long time and got no answer. When I pushed the door open to look, she wasn’t in the room at all!”

Hearing this, Shang Rong turned her head and saw the youth on the floor sit up at once. His snow-white robes hung loosely, and his handsome face still carried traces of drowsiness. The morning light fell over him, yet there was still a kind of coolness about him.

“She’s here with me.”

The youth rubbed his eyes, his voice somewhat hoarse.

The knocking stopped abruptly.

As though sensing something, the youth turned his face and met her gaze. “Will you go back and stick the mask on yourself, or should I help you?”

Shang Rong stayed curled in the quilt without getting up and looked at him, speaking softly, “You do it.”

“Mm.”

He responded lightly, his expression faint between his brows and eyes. From beneath the cloak on his body, he took out his own robe and put it on. He only tied the garment sash, not bothering to fasten the diexie belt, then opened the door and walked out.

Mengshi stood outside and watched the youth enter Shang Rong’s room at the end of the corridor. Before long, he came out holding a set of clothing. Mengshi did not ask anything further, only said, “I heard that Jiuyuan Tower in Shuqing City has a puppet show, and tonight there will be a lantern festival along the Yangliu River. Would Young Master and Susu like to go have a look?”

“Alright.”

The youth raised his brows slightly.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go downstairs first to order a table of breakfast.” Mengshi turned around, holding the railing as he slowly went down the stairs.

“Zhezhu, we’ve already watched a puppet show once.” Inside the room, Shang Rong heard what they said. When the youth walked in, she reminded him.

Back in Rongzhou, they had not only watched a puppet show but also gone boating.

At that time, the weather was cold and the snow heavy. The night was even more desolate. Few people watched the show, and even fewer went boating.

“A play is not only one act. Do you think it was not good to watch?”

He handed her clothes to her.

“It wasn’t bad.”

In the past, even in the Yujing palace, Shang Rong had never seen such a string-puppet show. But holding the clothes, she lowered her eyes and found an excuse. “I still have to recite the Daoist scriptures.”

“What does it matter if you recite one day less?”

Zhezhu spoke faintly. Seeing her lift her head, he said quietly, “At most, it would only wrong you to stay by my side one more day.”

Shang Rong said nothing more.

Turning around, she carried the clothes behind the screen.

Zhezhu had just finished washing. The droplets of water at his temples had not yet been wiped dry. Hearing the rustling sounds behind the screen, he lifted his eyes. Through the thin, hazy gauze, he saw her suddenly poke her head out.

“I’m not wronged.”

She said suddenly.

After speaking, she did not look at his reaction, but turned back around to tie her sash behind the screen.

Zhezhu said nothing. He walked to the bed, bent down, and picked up the soft sword by the pillow. Subconsciously, he took from his bundle the porcelain bottle filled with grass juice.

The thin blade reflected his clean, clear eyes.

His fingers tightened around the porcelain bottle.

After a moment, he threw it back into the pile of miscellaneous items.