Original Intention

The moment of dazed silence passed, and Mingyue, full of panic, struggled to sit up, her voice urgent. “If you’ve truly been summoned by the Emperor, why aren’t you leaving? Are you planning to stay and get yourself killed?”

Qin Shi let out a light laugh. “Oh? Why didn’t our esteemed head think of that before launching into a lengthy speech?”

His words made Mingyue freeze once again. She had rarely seen any expression on his face other than indifference or resignation. Reaching out, Mingyue pinched the corner of Qin Shi’s mouth. “It’s really true… Well, who thinks that far ahead while speaking? Anyway, let’s hurry and go.”

“No need to worry. If the Emperor were truly angry and wanted to deal with you, he would have acted already. Right now, both he and the Lady need time to come to terms with things.” Qin Shi pressed down gently on Mingyue, who kept trying to get up, resting his chin atop her hair. “Why not take this opportunity to rest for a while?”

“To think it through? Is it possible for either of them to truly sort things out? The Emperor, maybe; but the Lady seems trapped in a dead end, unable to find her way out.” Mingyue gave up her struggle, nestling obediently in Qin Shi’s arms, a strange feeling stirring in her heart—though she could not name it.

Qin Shi asked, “Do you wish for the Lady to actually take the Love’s Bane?”

“What use is my wishing or not wishing? I’m not the one making the decision.” Mingyue pouted. “Besides, if she thinks forgetting this love will make her life easier, who am I to stop her?” With that, Mingyue patted Qin Shi’s arm to signal him to let go, then got up and walked into the hall.

In the days that followed, the Emperor did not come, and Lady Chuxue seemed to remain secluded in the innermost chamber, never venturing outside. Mingyue relished her freedom; after all, staying here meant being well fed and housed. She would have enjoyed it even more if only it were a bit safer.

On the fourth day, Zihua came to invite Mingyue to Lady Chuxue’s chamber.

At first glance, Mingyue was stunned by Lady Chuxue’s haggard appearance. Even if the Emperor had tormented her somewhat in those three days, he hadn’t come by since; why, then, did Lady Chuxue still look so ravaged?

Lady Chuxue smiled faintly. “Forgive me for letting you see me like this. I’ve decided it’s best to rid myself of this longing as soon as possible. There’s no hope for me to leave this palace in this lifetime—so why not let myself live happily?”

“…When do you intend to begin?” Mingyue’s heart tightened, but she forced herself to speak gently.

“Tonight,” Lady Chuxue replied, raising a hand to summon Zihua, who began arranging her hair.

Mingyue nodded and withdrew from the room, glancing back before leaving. Lady Chuxue sat before the dressing mirror, Zihua combing her jet-black hair, while she herself applied rouge to her cheeks.

Would she face this with her most beautiful bearing?

Shaking her head, Mingyue told Qin Shi what had happened, then collapsed onto her own couch. She tried to sleep, but her mind was chaotic, as if several voices were arguing within her, robbing her of peace. Mingyue turned restlessly, staring up at the trembling canopy, reaching for the tassel at its edge. She did not understand—what exactly was bothering her? Whether it was Wenyan, Junxiao, Zhushu, or others, she had never hesitated before, yet this time the turmoil was for what?

Before she could sort it out, palace lanterns were lit outside.

One by one, the lanterns illuminated the splendor of the world. Mingyue and Qin Shi, led by Zihua, entered a quiet chamber far in the secluded part of Falling Snow Palace. Lady Chuxue sat upright at the center. Cold moonlight streamed through the window, shining on her elaborate and dignified palace attire; to her right, a brilliant palace lantern glowed. Mingyue had heard from the young maids that only here, in all the palaces of the Emperor’s realm, were the lanterns filled with pearls rather than mundane oil. Now, the gentle radiance of those pearls illuminated Lady Chuxue’s face, and it was truly exquisite.

Lady Chuxue’s features held a hint of childish roundness, but tonight, her makeup concealed all innocence and naivety, leaving only breathtaking beauty.

Mingyue thought, if she were a man, she would surely be enamored of her.

“My Lady.”

“You are here.” Lady Chuxue smiled gently, raising a hand to invite them to sit. “Few people come here; we will not be disturbed. I know some of you may think I shouldn’t do this, but I am truly exhausted. At this point, I can hardly remember why I first came to him. To love him, to marry him—it was because it made me happy. But now, nothing remains… Even without the matter of Qi, I think we would have reached this point eventually.”

Mingyue nodded, giving her customary warning. “My Lady, this is my last reminder: once the Love’s Bane is planted, the Emperor will become a stranger to you. You will not forget your memories of him, but you will no longer feel the joy, sweetness, or pain of your time together. All desire, anger, obsession, all love and hate—will vanish like smoke, leaving no trace. Are you sure?”

Lady Chuxue nodded.

Mingyue took a deep breath, forcing down her sudden anxiety. “Soon, Qin Shi will reveal the Soul Lantern. I need you to light it yourself, then recount your story with the Emperor from the very beginning. Do not stop, do not lie, do not conceal anything. Can you promise?”

Lady Chuxue nodded again.

At Mingyue’s signal, Qin Shi, standing behind her, slowly revealed the Soul Lantern in his hand, its azure glow dispelling the last shadows in the room. Qin Shi stepped forward, and Mingyue handed Lady Chuxue a fire striker, already lit.

“It was about five years ago. I was doted on by my father and brothers since childhood, so I inevitably grew a little spoiled…”

Her gentle, low voice began the tale, and a trace of tenderness appeared between Lady Chuxue’s brows. Mingyue pressed her left hand to her left eye, suddenly feeling a stabbing pain that made her crouch down.

“What’s wrong?”

Mingyue shook her head and steadied herself with Qin Shi’s arm. Mist had already begun to swirl in the chamber, but Mingyue felt uneasy. When the white mist cleared, they found themselves in an unfamiliar palace. Mingyue shook her head, rubbed her left eye, and only when the pain subsided did she beckon Qin Shi to walk forward.

They hadn’t gone far when a voice called out ahead. “Princess, Princess, please slow down!”

The voice sounded familiar, but before Mingyue could place it, two figures appeared in her sight—Lady Chuxue and Zihua. Lady Chuxue lifted her skirts and ran ahead, turning back to make faces at Zihua. Zihua chased after her helplessly. “Princess, His Majesty has important matters today; you can’t disturb him.”

“What could Father be doing that I can’t know about? Hmph, I don’t believe it.” Lady Chuxue stuck out her tongue at Zihua and continued running. When she reached a quiet, solemn hall, Zihua finally caught up, grabbing Lady Chuxue’s wrist to pull her out.

“Princess, forgive me for being rude.”

But Lady Chuxue shook off Zihua’s grip, walked around the hall, and called out loudly: “Father, Brother, where are you?”

Zihua’s expression changed suddenly, and she hurriedly tried to drag Lady Chuxue out.

Mingyue clicked her tongue in surprise. Zihua had always been respectful and protective of Lady Chuxue—what could make her act so abruptly?

Before Mingyue could figure it out, a middle-aged man emerged from the rear hall, lifting the curtain. Lady Chuxue immediately pushed away Zihua and ran up, clinging to him in a spoiled manner. “Father, why didn’t you come to see me?”

“Because I had state matters to attend to,” the King of Qi replied, gently stroking Lady Chuxue’s hair, his eyes full of affection.

Lady Chuxue nestled into his embrace, complaining, “What could be so secret that I can’t know? You never used to keep things from me. Where’s my brother?”

“He’s gone out of the palace on business. The security in the capital has been unstable lately; you mustn’t sneak out as you used to. If you really want to go out, wait a while and have Zihua accompany you. Will that do?”

Lady Chuxue wrapped her arms around the King’s neck. “But I wanted to go into the city this afternoon.”

“Listen to me,” the King said in a stern voice, but when tears welled in Lady Chuxue’s eyes, he quickly softened. “Please, my dear, just this once, listen to your father. Later, whatever you wish for, I’ll find a way to get it for you.”

“Really?”

The King nodded solemnly, and Lady Chuxue broke into a smile, hugging him in delight.