Years of mutual understanding meant Feng Lezhen didn’t need to say more—Ah Ye immediately slipped into the carriage. The driver tightened the reins, ready to dash away, when another bell sound rang out, followed by the sound of a child crying.
Feng Lezhen’s brow furrowed. She lifted the edge of the curtain and looked outside. There, she saw a five- or six-year-old child sitting on the ground, holding a broken bell cord in both hands and crying. Behind him was her own mansion’s open gate—no suspicious figures were in sight.
Ding-ling-ling. Ding-ling-ling…
The bell was still faintly ringing in the child’s filthy hands.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a long time. Only when the carriage moved far away did she quietly lower the curtain.
“Your Highness, what’s wrong?” Ah Ye asked, alert and worried.
Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment before answering, “Nothing. I was just being overly cautious.”
Ah Ye nodded, but still didn’t relax her guard.
The carriage continued forward. Amid the soft rattle of wheels, Feng Lezhen suddenly spoke.
“Ah Ye.”
“Hmm?” Ah Ye looked up.
That three-day, three-night “battle” had exhausted everyone. But it had only been the beginning. The real task was to make the censor leave without any suspicions. Unfortunately, before Feng Lezhen could even put the next steps in place, the censor himself requested to depart.
“You’re leaving so suddenly?” She looked surprised—it didn’t seem fake.
The censor gave a sheepish smile. “I’ve been here for quite a while. It’s long past time I returned to report. Now that Yingguan has just finished a battle, Your Highness must be very busy. I wouldn’t dare trouble you any longer.”
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a while, then smiled. “What are you saying, sir? The battlefield is General Qi’s domain. I’m quite idle and have plenty of time to keep you company.”
“…Next time. Definitely next time,” the censor laughed awkwardly.
Feng Lezhen persuaded him a few more times before reluctantly agreeing. The censor let out a huge sigh of relief and quickly made his departure.
As soon as he left, Qi Jingqing rolled out from the inner room in his wheelchair. “Why did the censor suddenly decide to leave?”
“He came to keep an eye on the silver. Now that all the silver’s been spent on the war, what’s the point of staying?” Feng Lezhen said calmly.
Qi Jingqing smiled faintly. “If that were all, he wouldn’t have left in such a hurry.”
“They say he received a secret letter from the capital and had to return urgently. But I don’t know what the letter said.” Feng Lezhen frowned slightly.
Qi Jingqing seemed thoughtful. “My people overheard something at the courier station last night—words like ‘Lingnan’ and ‘chaos.’ Perhaps it’s related to that region.”
Feng Lezhen understood, then suddenly realized something was off. “When did you send people to keep watch on him?”
Qi Jingqing looked innocent. “Since the day he arrived at Yingguan.”
Feng Lezhen laughed in exasperation. “You really are… Why didn’t you discuss it with me?”
“I just wanted to make sure he didn’t try anything sneaky—nothing more. So I didn’t think I needed to trouble Your Highness with it,” Qi Jingqing said, then hesitantly took her hand and looked up at her. “If Your Highness is unhappy, then in the future, I’ll inform you in advance before I do anything.”
“It’s not that I’m unhappy,” Feng Lezhen said helplessly, “just that if they become aware of it, it might make them unnecessarily alert.”
Qi Jingqing’s lips curved slightly. “The ones watching them are just people working at the post station, only casually listening in, not deliberately spying. How would they notice?”
Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “You sound rather pleased with yourself.”
“…I have a few friends in Lingnan,” Qi Jingqing said, smoothly changing the topic. “If Your Highness trusts me, let me inquire about the situation on your behalf.”
Feng Lezhen nodded. “In that case, I’ll trouble you, Jingqing.”
“No trouble at all,” Qi Jingqing chuckled softly. “By the way, I noticed the number of patrols in the residence has gone down, and nearly half the guards have been withdrawn. Did Your Highness assign them elsewhere?”
“No, I just figured since the censor’s leaving, there’s no need to keep the defenses so tight. I had everything returned to normal,” Feng Lezhen replied with a smile.
Qi Jingqing nodded and didn’t ask further.
As they spoke, signs of fatigue began to show on Feng Lezhen’s face. Qi Jingqing’s eyes flickered slightly, and he carefully suggested, “If Your Highness is tired, why don’t you come with me to…” rest.
But before he could say the last words, she had already withdrawn her hand and patted his face like petting a cat or dog. “I’m going to rest now. You should get some sleep early too.”
With that, she turned and went back to her room.
The smile at Qi Jingqing’s lips gradually faded. He didn’t say another word.
The next morning, the censor left Yingguan. Feng Lezhen finally relaxed and spent two to three solid days resting at home. On the third morning, she felt the light in the room was brighter than usual. Opening the door, she discovered it was snowing.
A light snowfall had covered everything in a thin white layer, marking the true arrival of winter in Yingguan.
“After this New Year’s Eve, it’ll be my fourth year spending the New Year in Yingguan,” Feng Lezhen murmured as she watched the falling snowflakes, a touch of emotion in her voice.
Ah Ye smiled. “Hard to believe it’s been so long. I can barely remember what the capital looks like.”
“You might have forgotten, but I haven’t,” Feng Lezhen said with a lift of her lips. “How many streets there are in the capital, how many shops line them—I still remember it all.”
Ah Ye chuckled. “Even if Your Highness remembers, it’s probably all changed by now. After all these years, who knows what it looks like anymore?”
“Even if it’s changed, it’s still the capital,” Feng Lezhen said cheerfully, turning to walk outside.
Ah Ye quickly followed. “Where are you going, Your Highness?”
“To find our little shizi.”
Hearing that, Ah Ye wisely stopped in her tracks.
When Feng Lezhen arrived at the side courtyard, the pageboy was holding a bowl of medicine and trying hard to coax someone. Qi Jingqing sat there with a furrowed brow, refusing to take the medicine. The pageboy sighed repeatedly and was just about to say more when he saw Feng Lezhen, his eyes lighting up. “Your Highness!”
“What’s going on here?” Feng Lezhen asked with a smile as she walked over.
Realizing the pageboy was about to tattle, Qi Jingqing quickly warned, “Qi An—”
“Your Highness, please do something! The shizi won’t take his medicine,” the pageboy blurted out.
Qi Jingqing sighed helplessly. Before Feng Lezhen could speak, he reached out and took the bowl, downing the medicine in one gulp.
“Ugh…” he grimaced, rinsed his mouth with water, and the next second, a piece of candied fruit was stuffed into his mouth.
“You used to take your medicine obediently—why do you need coaxing now?” Feng Lezhen asked, puzzled.
Qi Jingqing pressed his lips together. “Lately I’ve been feeling a tightness in my chest. The doctor added a few herbs to the prescription, and now it tastes horrible.”
“Why would your chest feel tight all of a sudden?” Feng Lezhen frowned.
“Maybe I’ve been cooped up inside too long lately. I was just thinking of getting some air in the courtyard. Would Your Highness care to join me?” Qi Jingqing asked.
“Sure.” Feng Lezhen agreed with a smile.
Although they had seen each other quite frequently lately, it was always for official matters. It had been a long time since they simply took a leisurely stroll together.
Today, though it snowed, there was no wind, so it wasn’t too cold. They slowly made their way to the pavilion and sat together, watching the swirling snow.
“Feeling better?” Feng Lezhen asked.
Qi Jingqing knew she was asking about the tightness in his chest. He paused a moment, then answered, “Much better.”
In truth, not really—but he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
“Looks like some fresh air really helps. Tell Qi An to keep the room well-ventilated. Don’t keep the doors and windows shut all the time,” Feng Lezhen reminded him.
Qi Jingqing nodded with a gentle smile.
After sitting in the courtyard for a while, they returned to Qi Jingqing’s room to play chess. Feng Lezhen lounged comfortably, staying in his room until late at night.
Outside, the snow was falling harder, and the wind had started to rise. Feng Lezhen covered her mouth as she yawned and said sleepily, “It’s getting late—you should get some rest.”
She stood up and was about to leave when she felt a tug on her robes. Pausing, she looked down and saw Qi Jingqing had grabbed the hem of her clothes.
“Your Highness,” he looked up at her in the candlelight, so beautiful he hardly seemed mortal, “stay the night.”
A strange warmth stirred in Feng Lezhen’s chest, but after a moment’s thought, she still declined. “You’re unwell. If I stay, it’ll only disturb your rest. I’d better not.”
She reached down to pull her clothes free, but Qi Jingqing’s fingers tightened, refusing to let go.
“Jingqing?” Feng Lezhen reminded him with a helpless smile.
Qi Jingqing snapped out of it, and with a calm expression, released her. “Tie your cloak tightly, Your Highness. Just because your room’s close doesn’t mean you should be careless.”
“Got it.” Feng Lezhen nodded, then turned to leave. After a moment’s thought, she turned back and lightly patted his cheek.
Qi Jingqing watched her leave with a soft smile, and only when her figure fully disappeared did that smile fade away completely.
When the pageboy entered, he saw him sitting alone by the window, deep in thought.
“Shizi, it’s time to rest,” the pageboy reminded softly.
Qi Jingqing returned to himself. “Got it.”
The pageboy hurried in with hot water and helped him wash and change.
By the time he was lying in bed, a quarter of an hour had passed. The pageboy, confirming that the blankets were properly tucked in, was about to blow out the light and leave when Qi Jingqing suddenly asked, “Has Her Highness summoned anyone during the night these days?”
The pageboy froze for a moment. “Who would she summon?”
Qi Jingqing closed his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
The pageboy understood what he meant, and after hesitating for a long while, finally replied, “Rest assured, Shizi. She hasn’t summoned anyone.”
“Mm.”
Seeing that Qi Jingqing didn’t want to speak further, the pageboy blew out the light and quietly left the room. But as he reached the doorway, he paused and added softly, “Don’t be upset, Shizi. Perhaps Her Highness has just been really busy lately… but she still cares about you. Otherwise, why would she keep you company until so late, right?”
Qi Jingqing said nothing.
The pageboy sighed quietly in his heart and slipped out.
In the darkness, Qi Jingqing laid still, unable to sleep. He thought to himself: the fact that Her Highness neither stayed the night nor allowed him to visit her bedchamber—so that really was abnormal. Otherwise, even Qi An wouldn’t have tried to comfort him.
He ought to ask her and get a clear answer, but if that answer was the one he feared most, how would he face it afterward? …Forget it. To be able to stay by her side like this was already enough. One shouldn’t be too greedy. Closing his eyes, Qi Jingqing slowly drifted off.
Feng Lezhen treated him very well—often accompanied him, always thought of him, and even brought him gifts whenever she went out. Apart from not staying the night, there really wasn’t anything to complain about. Qi Jingqing thought: how can anything in life be perfect? This was already good enough.
Provided that person Shen Suifeng didn’t return to Yingguan.
One morning, the pageboy came rushing over and said that Shen Suifeng had arrived in Yingguan and was heading to the yamen with Shen Suinian. The chess piece in Qi Jingqing’s hand fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Her Highness… seems to be at the yamen right now,” the pageboy added cautiously.
So he had returned. The days he had stolen for himself now had to be paid back. Qi Jingqing looked calmly at the deadlock on the chessboard. The tightness in his chest over these past days suddenly turned into a sharp pain.
