Tigers Sniff the Rose - Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Yan Shang wept.

Mu Wanyao held him in a daze, her heart aching for him, trying to shield him from his tears.

He trembled as he grasped her hand. His vision blurred, and as he looked at her slender, porcelain-white fingers, he traced over them one by one.

The tears brimmed in Yan Shang’s eyes, dripping down his lashes as he whispered, "Your fingers are unharmed."

In the end, no irreversible tragedy had occurred.

From head to toe, aside from the dirt smudged on her face and the dust splattered on her skirt, she was completely unscathed.

Yan Shang embraced Mu Wanyao tightly once more—

War is an abyss, a quagmire. This abyss drags everyone down, drowning them, until they are covered in filth, buried by a mound of yellow earth.

There is no such thing as a war without sacrifice; there is no such thing as a war that is not cruel. When one tries to use meager strength to prevent death in war, no matter how talented or capable one may be, it is ultimately a wasted effort.

Yan Shang was exactly that.

The conflict in Jiannan had subsided, leaving only the generals behind to garrison the area and sweep the battlefield. Upon returning to Guangzhou, it took Yan Shang only a day to make the already exhausted Southern Barbarian troops surrender and capture King Ale alive.

King Ale refused to surrender and tried to take his own life in the camp, but was stopped by the Wei army who rushed in just in time. Today, King Ale was destined to die; he had to pay the price for this war. However, he deserved to be taken to Chang'an and forced to atone for his crimes under everyone's gaze.

He was not worthy of a quiet, silent death.

With this, only the Hexi battlefield remained to be resolved. But when Yan Shang left Jiannan, he had already ordered several generals to lead half the troops to support Hexi. Coupled with the reinforcements that had arrived to save Chang'an and the foreign troops Wei Shu had solicited from surrounding nations, the Southern Barbarian forces trapped in Hexi were already in a desperate predicament.

Their surrender was only a matter of time.

Yan Shang ordered the generals heading to Hexi to end the war within a month.

By August, Yan Shang intended for the war between Great Wei and the Southern Barbarians to be completely quelled. Great Wei had no interest in that barren wasteland; they would adopt a system of loose rein governance, supporting a new king whom Great Wei could trust. When the time came, they would select a suitable king from the captives—someone fit to negotiate with Great Wei.

Before he knew it, Yan Shang had grasped all of Great Wei's military and political power in his hands. This large-scale war had, in the fastest way possible, elevated his political and military influence to an unprecedented level. Especially after the sacrifice of Prime Minister Liu and the imprisonment of the Minister of War, Yan Shang had effectively become the undisputed leader of the Great Wei court.

His only flaw was that he was not at the heart of the central government.

Wei Shu occupied that central position.

Countless people were waiting to see Yan Shang return to Chang'an to vie for power with Wei Shu.

These, however, were matters for the future.

Although Yan Shang’s official career seemed smooth and his power immense, Mu Wanyao knew that if he had a choice, he would rather trade it all to bring back those who had perished—

The war in Guangzhou was much easier for Yan Shang than Jiannan. After they reunited, Mu Wanyao was shocked by how poor his state of health was. It was only after she coaxed him to sleep that she managed to get a clear picture of what had happened while they were apart.

Guangzhou had been under lockdown for half a year with no contact with the outside world, and only now did Mu Wanyao realize how many friends had died.

Especially Prime Minister Liu and Yang Si.

For Yan Shang, the deaths of these two men were likely a devastating blow.

Deep in the night, Yan Shang slept restlessly in his tent. Mu Wanyao lit a bit of the jiangzhen incense he had always used, and only after seeing his tightly furrowed brows smooth out did she leave the sleeping quarters.

After instructing the maidservants to keep a close watch on the Imperial Son-in-law, Mu Wanyao went to the study to ask about the stories she had missed over the past six months.

Sitting beside the desk, the Princess’s long dress trailed on the floor; she was elegant and possessed an incredibly steady presence.

The soldier who had followed Yan Shang on the campaign felt his eyes turn red just by glancing at the beautiful Princess. If even he felt such heartache, how much more must Yan Shang be suffering?

The soldier choked up: "…When the news of the Third Young Master’s death arrived, it was precisely when those wretched Southern Barbarians kept telling us that Your Highness was in their hands. They even used a severed finger, claiming it was yours, to trick us. Second Young Master was already in agony; when that happened, he immediately coughed up blood."

Mu Wanyao’s pupils constricted slightly.

Her fingers curled, gripping the armrest tightly.

For a moment, her mind went blank, and the pain in her heart was so intense that she hunched over, struggling to breathe.

Mist quickly gathered in her eyes.

So many had died in battle; his teacher was gone, her childhood sweetheart was gone… She felt this much pain just hearing about it, so how much strength had Yan Shang spent to endure it for so long, and how much had he suffered before he finally shed tears upon seeing her again?

A man like him would not be choked by silent words unless the pain had reached the very extreme.

Mu Wanyao closed her eyes, her voice trembling: "You may go."

She needed to stay calm; she needed to lick the wounds on her own heart clean. Only after she processed all of this could she help Yan Shang recover.

In the past, it was always Yan Shang who comforted her.

Now, it must be her who stands by him so he does not collapse—

Yan Shang did not sleep well all night.

The nightmares that tormented him every day and every night had not ended, even after he returned to Mu Wanyao’s side.

He dreamed of too many corpses, too much bloodshed. He dreamed of his teacher, and he dreamed of Yang Si, whose face was covered in blood as he knelt on the ground, letting himself be pierced by ten thousand arrows.

—Why couldn't he save them?

Creak.

The wooden door pushed open.

Mu Wanyao stepped in on tiptoes, lifting her skirt, wanting to check on Yan Shang. She saw Yan Shang sitting on the bed, his long hair unkempt, staring blankly. The daylight shining on him made him look incredibly thin.

He turned his face to look at her; the young man’s eye rims were still red, and his eyes were filled with bloodshot veins. Mu Wanyao froze.

She thought to herself that he clearly hadn't slept well.

Mu Wanyao smiled brightly: "You're awake? You woke up so early. Why don't we go to your father’s house for breakfast together? Your sister-in-law boiled porridge today, and both your father and brother want to see you."

She counted off the tasks for the day on her fingers: "Many houses collapsed during the city siege, leaving many people homeless. And there is the grain you brought that needs to be distributed. The people are all crowded in front of the government office, wanting to kowtow to me and you.

"So many people; we should meet with them."

When Yan Shang spoke, his voice was a bit hoarse: "Let’s skip today."

Mu Wanyao’s expression didn't change: "Then we'll talk about it tomorrow. Get up first. I’m not going out today; I’ll stay at home and keep you company. We won't do anything—just soak up the sun and enjoy the flowers. How does that sound?"

Yan Shang’s pitch-black eyes stared at her.

Mu Wanyao lowered her head: "The jade pendant… it really did get lost. I didn't do it on purpose, so don't be angry at me for that, okay? Between us, a betrothal token is gone, so it's gone—what does it matter? I don't believe in those things; our bond isn't maintained by such objects.

"I’ve already admitted my mistake to your father! And your father has already forgiven me."

Yan Shang studied her.

Back in familiar surroundings, his restless emotions seemed to slowly calm down. He began to grow gentle again, his tone slow: "I brought the pendant back for you. Did you search through my clothes and not find it?"

Mu Wanyao opened her eyes wide: "I did not."

Yan Shang stared at her.

He couldn't help but laugh: "You're lying."

He said: "How could you not search through my things? In your Highness's eyes, I am entirely your possession. After not seeing me for a year, wouldn't you want to confirm if your possession is still yours? Without checking or asking, how could your Highness be at ease?"

Mu Wanyao: "…"

She complained: "You’ve become so blunt when you speak now; you don't give me any face at all."

Yan Shang: "Apologies. I am a bit tired and have no mood to pay attention to those things."

Mu Wanyao, however, pursed her lips and smiled: "It doesn't matter. You know, I really like it when you lose your temper; I really like it when you don't care about others’ feelings. I just like the wilful Yan Second Brother."

Yan Shang was stunned for a long while, watching her stand pretty just a few steps away, chattering on to him about many things. He let it go in one ear and out the other, but she remained happy, joyful, pacing in front of him. She was like a gorgeous butterfly. Even though the war wasn't over yet, and even though she had heard those news, she was still able to hold herself together.

Yan Shang interrupted her softly: "Your Highness is the bravest person I have ever known."

Mu Wanyao paused, tilting her head to look at him.

She saw him sitting on the bed, reaching out a hand to her with a smile: "Yao-Yao, come here."

Seeing him so haggard and weak, his face as white as snow, Mu Wanyao’s heart ached so much she could no longer put on airs. She walked over obediently, thinking that according to Yan Shang’s habits, he surely wanted to hug her. He needed to hold her to confirm that she was alive, to confirm that she existed.

Yan Shang indeed reached out to embrace her, pulling her to sit by his side.

Mu Wanyao was somewhat proud of her understanding of Yan Shang, only to see him lower his head, his finger sliding lightly below her collarbone, and pulling open her sash.

Skin as smooth and luminous as snow, hills towering and cold.

Leaping out.

Mu Wanyao froze.

This was not something Yan Shang would do… He had never been this sudden.

But this time, he really was this sudden.

He carelessly removed her silk ribbons and sash, and while Mu Wanyao was astonished and dazed, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her.

The day had just dawned, birds were chirping, and the room was dyed with the atmosphere of spring—

Yan Shang was somewhat indulgent, somewhat different from the man he used to be.

He had always been gentle before, always prioritizing her feelings first. Only when she was comfortable would he attend to himself. But this time was different; he seemed distracted, yet he also seemed entirely focused.

He stared at her throughout, but his pitch-black eyes were incredibly hollow. He saw a vibrant beauty before his eyes, but perhaps his heart didn't contain her.

Moreover, having not seen each other for a year, their first time was actually somewhat difficult and arduous.

Mu Wanyao endured it, struggling to enter the state as quickly as possible. Only when she relaxed would they both be better off. The physical contact between man and woman was always the simplest way to draw closer to one another. Being drenched in sweat was their outlet for catharsis; all trivial matters, when vented through this, would have a good effect.

Once it ended, the sun was warm and gentle. Mu Wanyao leaned on his shoulder and gave him a sharp bite. Her beautiful brows relaxed, and she looked up at him, flashing him a smile.

He did not smile.

He gathered her beautiful hair in his hand, watching the black strands weave through his fingers, and said, "Your hair has grown shorter."

Mu Wanyao: "Is there such a big difference? I’m still very beautiful."

Yan Shang whispered: "I don't like it."

Mu Wanyao glared: "How dare you not like it!"

Yan Shang: "I still like your hair long to your ankles; I like your hair that was perfectly maintained without having endured any suffering."

Mu Wanyao was stunned.

Yan Shang lowered his head, one hand cupping her cheek, the other coolly brushing across her brows, eyes, and nose: "I like the arrogance between your brows; I like that sharp expression when you glare at people. I like your delicate skin, raised like snow; the moment it’s held, it feels like it’s about to melt in my palm. I feared you would melt, so I cared for you even more diligently. And so you became even softer, making me even more reluctant to part with you.

"I like your mouth. It’s so red, as if you’ve always been wearing lipstick. But actually, you have naturally dark eyes and red lips; you’re beautiful. Even when you wash off your makeup at night, your mouth is still so red. Small, soft—I kiss it and think it must be the sweetest candy I have ever tasted in this world."

Mu Wanyao’s cheeks burned hot.

She was disheveled, her body like ice and snow, partially hidden and partially visible, trying to hide her embarrassment. She had intended to be a temptress to entice him, but at his blunt praise, she still felt shy.

Mu Wanyao covered her face and dodged out of his arms: "Why are you suddenly saying such nice things…"

Yan Shang clamped his hand around her waist and pulled her back: "Don't go."

Mu Wanyao complained: "I wasn't going anywhere."

He ignored her and picked her up. He stood and carried her in his arms. Mu Wanyao thought his old illness of overwork had flared up and he was carrying her to the washroom to bathe. Unexpectedly, he carried her out of the inner room and sat her down on the shelf where the flowers were originally displayed.

He brushed aside the black strands on her cheek and lowered his head to kiss her again.

Yan Shang whispered: "Again."

Mu Wanyao’s color changed: "Again?!"

Lovemaking is not always purely pleasurable; the constant oscillation between comfort and discomfort makes one feel incredibly miserable. Doing it in the daytime was normally out of the question; doing it outside the inner room was normally out of the question; doing it on an outside shelf was completely impossible.

But now, everything was possible.

Yan Shang used what Mu Wanyao had taught him to torment her.

He used this method to vent his emotions.

Forceful and ruthless, cold and fierce.

Mu Wanyao enjoyed it at first, but later it became painful. His brows were furrowed, and it was clear he wasn't very comfortable either. Yet his hands gripped her slim, soft waist tightly, as if he were obsessed. Mu Wanyao covered her mouth, gritting her teeth and enduring, whining softly on his shoulder, begging him in a small voice to stop.

Three times in a row.

By the third time, it dragged on without ending; he couldn't find release, and she was thoroughly ravaged, becoming anxious alongside him. The two went from the inner room to the outer room, and finally returned to the small couch behind the screen. It was stifling and narrow, but fortunately, they were both thin.

When it finally ended, Yan Shang’s hand remained on Mu Wanyao’s waist. He didn't make a sound, simply falling backward. The bedding was tossed onto the floor, and with a "thud," Yan Shang fell onto the couch, his head bumping against the wooden board.

Mu Wanyao was startled and hurriedly leaned over to look at him.

She saw that he had simply fallen asleep.

Mu Wanyao lowered her head, enduring the soreness, her fingers brushing across his gentle brows and eyes, sweeping over the fatigue on his face.

Mu Wanyao kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered: "So you also have times when you rely on desire to vent your emotions.

"So you also collapse when you finish… you also have the same emotions as other men.

"Yan Second Brother, I am very happy that you trust me this much. We will walk this road together." —

The married couple did not linger in Guangzhou for long. After that outburst of Yan Shang’s, Mu Wanyao saw with her own eyes that he improved day by day, beginning to return to his usual self. With matters in Guangzhou concluded, the two immediately returned to Chang’an to handle the aftermath of the war.

At this time, the Southern Barbarians on the Hexi battlefield finally surrendered.

At the end of July, all the officials in Chang’an were waiting for Yan Shang and his wife to return to the capital to preside over state affairs. The only remaining hidden threat in Chang’an was Liu Wenji, who had locked the palace gates and was relying on the Northern Yamen troops to guard the gates against the Imperial Guards.

But even this confrontation was coming to an end.

The general trend was lost; there was no turning back.

In the first ten days of August, the palace gates could no longer be held, and the Northern Yamen troops could not resist those attacking the palace gates. With the condemnation of all the people of Chang’an, Liu Wenji was in a shambles.

As war raged, a palace gate was rammed open from the outside. When the soldiers below reported this, Liu Wenji stood blankly by the Imperial Lake in front of a palace building. His hand holding the sword was trembling; he gritted his teeth, thinking he could not admit defeat. He rasped in a hoarse voice for his men to continue blocking the gate, but a clamor came from behind.

An eunuch’s voice: "Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship! You cannot go!"

Liu Wenji turned his head and saw Chunhua, who held the rank of Consort Xian.

The eunuchs hadn't managed to stop her. When Chunhua saw Liu Wenji turn around, she rushed over and grabbed his sleeve. Her clothes were disheveled; clearly, she had run here in a hurry. Liu Wenji looked down at her, steadying his breathing.

He gritted his teeth and said hoarsely: "Why did you come here? Why aren't you hiding with the Empress Dowager and the other women of the inner palace… Even if the palace gates are broken, you are the concubines of the late Emperor. Those ministers all claim to be gentlemen; they won't kill you women of the harem who were held hostage by me."

Chunhua tightened her grip on his sleeve, as if she hadn't heard his words. She shoved a medicine bottle into his hand, her tone urgent: "I heard that a palace gate has been breached; those people will be killing their way in very soon. You, you must escape quickly, don't worry about these things anymore…"

Liu Wenji was detached: "People from all directions want me dead. Where can I escape to?"

Chunhua: "This is medicine I had the imperial physicians concoct; it can induce a state of suspended animation for twenty hours. I originally intended, I originally intended… but you take this medicine! You use it!"

Liu Wenji was dazed.

He looked down at the medicine bottle she had shoved at him. He looked up at her pretty brows and eyes again and whispered: "What did you originally intend to do?"

Chunhua: "That’s not important… it’s most important that you stay alive."

Liu Wenji: "Everyone wants me dead."

Chunhua choked up: "But you have been very good to me…"

Liu Wenji: "You abandoned your Princess."

Chunhua: "That I could be a Consort in the palace for so long, that I could remain unbullied even without the Emperor’s favor, and that Yue’er could grow up safely… was all because of your care. I know you have always been looking after me. You have a fierce tongue, but you have always been very kind to me."

She choked up: "I hope you live. Just… stay far away from all this. Do not do any more evil."

Liu Wenji acted as if he hadn't heard her advice. Just as she delivered the medicine and wanted to leave, Liu Wenji grabbed her wrist.

He looked at her distortedly and smiled hideously: "You hope a eunuch lives well!"

Chunhua’s face turned slightly pale, her heart aching at the word "eunuch."

Liu Wenji snarled: "Looking after you was just a simple gesture! Who do you think you are! I wasn't being kind to you at all! I tricked that piece of trash into writing a decree of self-accusation to install a new Son of Heaven. That new Son of Heaven was meant to be my way of defecting to the scholarly faction; it was meant to be my way of currying favor with those people! So the new Son of Heaven is the Empress’s son! He is not your son! He has nothing to do with you!

"I wouldn't even give you your own son’s future… what right do you have to say I was good to you? What right do you have to think I was sincere to you?"

Chunhua looked up at his gloomy brows and eyes; her wrist was aching from the grip of his ice-cold hand. He had exposed the nature of their relationship in front of the eunuchs and soldiers. The others turned pale and hung their heads, and Chunhua, too, looked pale.

Yet she remained gentle.

She was stubborn: "I know what kind of person you are. Perhaps I am wrong; please don't take it to heart… What’s more important now is for you to escape and save your life.

"Her Highness is coming back, Yan Erlang is coming back… Once they return, you are certain to die!"

She choked up: "I don't want you to die."

Liu Wenji looked at her blankly.

In this moment, he suddenly felt decadent, accepting that the situation was lost. From the corner of his eye, he saw a general rushing over to report something, and he grew disgusted by this—always losing! Always destined to be defeated by those who wanted to kill him. Why keep asking without end!

Liu Wenji suddenly grabbed Chunhua’s hand, dragging her along: "You come with me!"

Chunhua stumbled as Liu Wenji pushed her into a palace chamber. When she fell inside, she saw a room full of children, who stood up in shock at the sight of her.

The palace doors slammed shut behind the two. Liu Wenji roared for everyone to go block the gates; he drew his sword and walked toward the children.

One of the children, about eight years old, stood up. He walked toward the door and blurted out: "Mother! Mother, have you come to save us?"

Another young boy, wearing a dragon robe that had been altered to fit him, warily grabbed the hand of Chunhua’s son, pulling him back: "A-Yue, don't go over there!"

This was the young emperor who had been installed as the new monarch.

The young emperor was the son of the late Empress, now the Empress Dowager, but what use was being an emperor? Liu Wenji had locked him and his host of brothers and sisters away; they were all in prison.

Liu Wenji raised his sword and walked toward these children.

The children backed away.

Chunhua stood up, supporting herself on her knees, and cried out: "What are you doing?!"

Liu Wenji looked at these children cruelly.

He stared at that young emperor with numb, vicious intensity. The young emperor retreated, the children retreated together, and Liu Wenji raised the sword in his hand.

He murmured: "I originally intended to imprison you, to hold you hostage, to finally rely on you to trade for my life. As long as the young emperor was in my hands, those ministers would still have had no choice but to let me go! But Chunhua, you are right; by this day, those officials might not care anymore… especially Yan Shang.

"You see Yan Shang being respectful to the Emperor, but in reality, he is the most indifferent to monarchical authority! It is precisely because he is indifferent to monarchs that he dared to marry the Princess! If I tried to use the young emperor to threaten him into letting me go, he would never agree.

"You say I was good to you, but actually, I wasn't. I did it all for power; I only wanted power… but now, it is different. I never did anything for you before, but now I will do one thing for you.

"Once these children are all dead, once the young emperor is dead, your son will be able to become the emperor! You will become the Empress Dowager, enjoying glory and wealth—you will enjoy it for me!"

Chunhua screamed: "You’ve gone mad!"

Mu Yue cried in terror: "Don't come over here!"

The young emperor: "Someone help, someone save me—!"

The eunuchs and palace maids who were looking after the princes and princesses rushed over to protect the children, and Chunhua also threw herself forward from behind. But Liu Wenji was like a madman; no one could stop him. He laughed heartily, and he couldn't understand why Chunhua was trying to stop him.

And those eunuchs Liu Wenji had brought with him, terrified, helped Liu Wenji murder others.

That child named Mu Yue, despite being Chunhua’s son, actually shielded the young emperor behind him.

Liu Wenji coaxed: "Mu Yue, don't you want to be the Son of Heaven, don't you want to be above all others? Once they are all dead, Yan Shang and Mu Wanyao will have no choice—only then can you become the Son of Heaven! To be the Son of Heaven, one must be ruthless!"

He swung his sword, and a palace servant died at his feet, clutching his sleeve, refusing to let him pass. Liu Wenji swung the sword again, blood splashing onto his face.

Mu Yue desperately pushed the young emperor to hide behind him. The late Empress hadn't liked his mother’s weakness, but he had grown up with the young emperor, and the two children had always been on good terms.

He hadn't been satisfied with his mother’s poor treatment in the palace, or his own poor treatment as the eldest son. But he had never wanted his brother to die, never wanted to make all his brothers and sisters yield the path for himself.

Mu Yue cried out: "You’re crazy, you’re crazy! Spare my brother! Spare my brother!"

Chunhua collapsed: "Liu Wenji—"

She was dragged back by the palace attendants Liu Wenji had brought in, unable to move.

The palace room was a chaotic scene, blood flowing like a river.

Just then, a "BOOM—" sounded, a deafening blast; the palace doors were smashed in from the outside, crashing down, dust swirling in the air.

Liu Wenji, his face stained with blood, turned his head and saw a grand, surging crowd standing at the palace gates, each one solemn and majestic.

At the head were Yan Shang and Mu Wanyao, followed by Wei Shu, Prime Minister Zhang, and then the other court officials.

Soldiers holding weapons rushed into the palace chamber.

They saw the corpses on the floor, their eyes splitting with rage: "Liu Wenji!"

Liu Wenji looked at Yan Shang and Mu Wanyao and laughed: "You’ve returned—have you come back to kill me? Just a moment more, just a moment more—"

He suddenly turned around, pushing aside a dazed Mu Yue, intending to kill the young emperor. But behind Yan Shang, a general threw a dagger, which struck Liu Wenji’s raised arm.

A trembling old man was supported as he stepped out, his voice filled with grief and indignation: "Liu Wenji, you murdered the late Emperor, and now you want to kill the young prince; you are steeped in evil and refuse to repent!"

It was Cheng An.

The look in Liu Wenji’s eyes became even more frenzied, and the sword in his hand swung down.

Behind Liu Wenji, Mu Yue rushed over again, hugging his thigh and biting down hard.

Mu Yue cried: "You raped my mother, and now you want to kill my brother! Chancellor Yan, Aunt, hurry and kill him, kill him…"

Raped.

As those two words left his lips, not only was Liu Wenji stunned, but even Chunhua sat on the floor, her face pale.

Liu Wenji looked down at the child hanging onto his leg. Mu Yue looked up, his eyes filled with nothing but hatred for him. Liu Wenji felt dazed, thinking to himself that he had acted entirely to let the boy be emperor—why would the child hate him?

Liu Wenji looked back at Cheng An, at the ministers, at Yan Shang, at Mu Wanyao.

They were cold, detached.

Their eyes all spelled out that he deserved to die.

Liu Wenji stumbled backward, his hand clutching the sword, refusing to fall. He roared hoarsely: "What wrong have I committed—"

Yan Shang interrupted: "You are deeply, gravely wrong!"

Liu Wenji stared at him in a daze.

He saw Yan Shang walking toward him—

"Your wrong lies in murdering the Emperor and shifting the blame onto the former Crown Prince.

"Your wrong lies in colluding with the enemy and communicating with foreign powers! You and the late Emperor together caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of frontier soldiers, the death of a prime minister, and the deaths of countless pillars of state… You let Great Wei wither in the wind and rain, causing the people’s suffering.

"Your wrong lies in killing Luo Xiu, in harboring malice from the very beginning, in continuing to walk a path that grew more crooked and more venomous with every step."

Yan Shang said each word clearly, stepping forward with every syllable.

His tone was agitated, his eyes even brimming with mist. Then he shifted his focus and whispered: "I am also wrong."

He said: "My wrong lies in discovering you were astray long ago, yet always thinking of giving you chances, thinking that you weren't a born villain and could still turn back. My wrong lies in having a soft heart toward you, my wrong lies in… not killing you sooner!

"I should have killed you long ago! I should have ended all this long ago!" —

Liu Wenji stared blankly at Yan Shang.

He suddenly abandoned his sword, his voice choked: "This is all your fault. I was so good to you, I was always concerned about you in the palace, yet you never turned back to look at me. When the former Crown Prince rebelled, when the former Prince of Qin rebelled, when the secret reinforcements were delayed… you still looked down on me, you still didn't treat me as a friend."

He choked: "You still didn't trust me."

Yan Shang closed his eyes.

Mu Wanyao’s face was a bit pale, her expression somewhat languid. Yet she held Yan Shang’s hand and turned to Liu Wenji: "You are guilty of monstrous crimes, yet in the end, you only blame us for not being good enough to you. Has the whole world wronged you?"

She was different from Yan Shang.

She was forever sharp and incisive: "Wrong is wrong; do not make so many excuses for yourself!"

Liu Wenji looked at her.

Liu Wenji nodded: "Murdering the Emperor, colluding with foreign powers, enticing the Emperor into depravity… what else? Why stop there? Your Highness, Princess? Why not list my crimes in full?"

He laughed: "Can’t say them, can you? Because you have a heart, don't you? You didn't want your man… your man…!"

He suddenly lost his voice; his whole body stood there blankly. Then he slumped to the floor, caught from behind by someone.

Everyone saw it clearly: a dagger had been plunged into his heart from behind. As he fell, his whole body spasmed; he didn't want to look back.

Chunhua, her face full of tears, held him.

She was at the very brink of collapse, on the verge of madness herself. She muttered blankly: "You were also wrong in having an illicit affair with a harem concubine."

Liu Wenji fell into Chunhua’s embrace; his eyes were unfocused, blood flowing from his chest. Chunhua’s tears dripped onto his face; she held the dagger, her own hand bleeding as well. With that same dagger, she stabbed into her own heart.

Mu Wanyao’s eyes constricted, and she stepped forward: "Chunhua!"

Mu Yue screamed: "Mother!"

The always delicate Chunhua shouted at the top of her lungs for the first time: "No one come over here!"

She held Liu Wenji close to her, bursting into tears.

From the moment she entered the Jin Prince’s residence, her life had been like something soaked in tears. She wept all day, wept forever. There was too much bitterness in her life, and she herself was too weak.

Unable to love, unable to hate.

Her son looked at her with strange eyes, her mistress looked at her with disgusted eyes, the former master looked at her with disappointment.

It was all her fault, it was all because she wasn't good enough.

Chunhua held Liu Wenji tighter, crying bitterly, never having cried so hard in her life. She trembled as she reached out to touch the blood on his chest, her voice shaking: "All my fault, all my fault. If I had never entered the Prince’s residence… everything would have been different.

"Wenji, Wenji… it was I who harmed you, it was I who misled you.

"A-Yue, I know you hate me for having an affair with a eunuch, hate me for betraying your father. You didn't tell your father, you didn't tell the Empress; I am grateful to you… but Wenji is not an ordinary eunuch. He is my lover, the man I loved most in this life… my only lover! I had him before I ever entered your father’s gates; we did not betray your father at all.

"It was your father who forced me, who tore us apart. I only did this so that I could give birth to you. If you want to blame anyone, blame me; do not blame Wenji.

"Your Highness, Your Highness… I have let you down. I know Wenji did too many evil things and deserves to die. I only ask that after we die, let us be together, okay? I never want to be with the Jin Prince or the Emperor ever again! I never want to be like that again!"

She cried out in grief, holding Liu Wenji tight. Liu Wenji looked at her blankly, the gloom in his eyes gradually fading. Before he died, he heard her inner thoughts, and he finally felt some sense of relief.

Liu Wenji thought to himself: Then, let it be… this way.

From far away, he thought of that winter sun from all those years ago—a fleeting glimpse, her standing at the Yan household, turning back to smile at him.

Tears brimmed in his eyes; he murmured: "To love one another and never forget, striving to love Chunhua…"

His hand trembled as he reached upward, wanting to touch her face one last time. She lowered her head and buried her face against him, her shoulders trembling.

To love one another and never forget, striving to love Chunhua.

Perhaps it was wrong from the very beginning.

Perhaps they should never have met at all—

A fire burned through the palace. When Yan Shang and Mu Wanyao departed, dusk was falling, and the world grew dark.

But a new day would begin once more.