Chapter 60

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When Li Zhi finished speaking, the forest fell silent, leaving only the sound of rustling wind in the darkness.

“…Cannot?” Xie Lanxu lowered his gaze, softly repeating the word she had just uttered.

“Your Highness, with the successful pacification of Yizhou, the path to your triumphant return to the capital is now open,” Li Zhi said gently. “To associate too closely with the daughter of a criminal will bring you no benefit.”

Xie Lanxu remained motionless, his voice cold. “So?”

“Once you return to the capital, countless noble ladies from prestigious families will line up, eager to form alliances with you through marriage,” Li Zhi continued softly. “If Your Highness’s eyes are set on the throne, a strong political alliance—or several—is indispensable. But if you marry, my existence would only bring your future wife displeasure.”

An unmarried prince, rising in prominence and proving himself on the battlefield, would undoubtedly be a prized target for the capital’s elite families vying for influence. Li Zhi was acutely aware that she had no family background to rely on, and as for her beauty—Xie Lanxu was not the kind of man swayed by mere appearances. The only thing she could wield as leverage was the bond they shared, fragile yet enduring, symbolized by the rhododendron flower she held in her heart.

She needed that flower to bloom brighter and longer, to stir Xie Lanxu’s heart again and again.

“My feelings for Your Highness have never changed,” Li Zhi said. “And because they have never changed, I cannot. I do not wish to see Your Highness trapped in a dilemma one day.”

The ripples in the water below had long since calmed. Xie Lanxu’s hand slowly dropped, his expression frozen into indifference.

He stared into the empty space ahead, not sparing her even the faintest glance.

Li Zhi could feel the invisible wall between them, the one she had worked so hard to break, now rebuilt and standing tall once more, separating them.

The steaming hot spring lapped at her feet, yet her body felt as though it had plunged into icy depths.

Silently, she put her socks and shoes back on. Once again, she knelt on the ground, assuming the posture of a servant.

Xie Lanxu leaned back against a stone by the spring, his eyes fixed on the moonlight filtering through the interwoven leaves above. Rising mist from the hot spring blurred his expression, leaving him veiled in mystery.

Autumn had reached its end, and winter had crept in without notice.

A golden leaf drifted into the bubbling spring. Behind the trees, a few wild monkeys huddled together, timidly watching the lone young man who had claimed their warm refuge.

Suddenly, Xie Lanxu stood, the water splashing loudly around him.

Li Zhi, keeping her gaze respectfully downcast, reached for the clothes he had left by the shore and handed them to him. He took them as though retrieving garments from a lifeless hanger, dressing himself in silence.

Not a word was spoken between them throughout the entire process.

They made their way back to where the sweat-blood steed was tethered. The horse, impatient from waiting, snorted and pawed at the ground. Its white mane fluttered in the breeze, and a ginkgo leaf clung stubbornly to its hair.

Xie Lanxu untied the reins from the tree and mounted the horse without a glance in her direction. Li Zhi didn’t expect him to remember her presence, let alone offer her a ride. She obediently took the reins, walking ahead to lead the horse like a proper attendant.

The two of them descended the mountain in silence.

Her feet, still damp from the hot spring, were wrapped in socks and shoes that had not been dried. The wet soles had become icy needles, pricking her with every gust of wind and every step over the rough mountain path.

Just as she focused all her attention on navigating the uneven ground, her footing suddenly disappeared. The world tilted as Xie Lanxu scooped her up effortlessly, holding her at the side of the horse.

Li Zhi widened her eyes, staring at his face, which remained cold and impassive.

The youth’s tall and slender frame belied his firm strength. Though Li Zhi was not particularly petite, he held her with unwavering steadiness, his arms unflinching.

“…Your Highness,” she murmured.

“Didn’t I already tell you?” Xie Lanxu’s voice was low and restrained, his gaze fixed intently on her. Beneath the controlled veneer of his tone, Li Zhi could discern a hint of anger.

Her heart, which had seemed to hang suspended, suddenly settled back into her chest. The coldness that had consumed her body began to thaw, warmth creeping in once more.

She had won.

Once a wall had been broken, it would never be as impenetrable as before. Cracks would remain, and with enough persistence, she could break it again.

This wall could no longer hold her back.

Xie Lanxu adjusted his grip and lifted her onto the horse, seating her sideways. To maintain her balance, Li Zhi instinctively wrapped her arms around his slender waist.

“I told you, I’m willing to marry you,” Xie Lanxu said coolly.

“But the prophecy…”

“Even if one day I claim the throne, it will be through our efforts—not because of some prophecy,” Xie Lanxu interrupted, his expression icy.

The sweat-blood horse stumbled briefly on a pothole, its sudden jolt shaking the saddle. Yet Li Zhi felt no fear, for Xie Lanxu had already secured her protectively in his arms.

Though his demeanor remained cold as steel, Li Zhi could feel the warmth she had fought so hard to unearth, warmth that belonged to her alone.

“In these fifteen days, I’ve come to realize something,” Xie Lanxu said.

“What is it?”

“I want to marry you,” Xie Lanxu declared.

Li Zhi looked into his deep, ocean-like eyes, and her heart trembled.

The sweat-blood steed had passed the roughest stretch of the mountain trail. Xie Lanxu released the hand that had been steadying her back and instead lifted a lock of her hair, allowing it to slip gently through his fingers.

Xie Lanxu held a strand of her hair in his palm.

He gazed at her intently, his lips softly brushing against the strands.

“The affection of green bamboo, the love of pomegranate flowers.”

He said, “I think that person is you.”

Li Zhi could tell that these were not words born of calculation but heartfelt sincerity.

It was precisely because of this sincerity that, for the first time, she who was usually quick-witted and eloquent, found herself utterly at a loss for words.

When he didn’t receive her answer, Xie Lanxu leaned in closer and wrapped his arms around her once again.

Observing her silence, he asked in a low voice, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Li Zhi forced a smile and replied, “I was looking at the sacred mountain. I hadn’t expected that it could be seen even from here.”

Through the layered branches of the trees, the snowy peak of Xian Naiyue, the Sacred Mountain, stood tall and radiant. From any place in Mingyue Tower, the holy peak was always visible, unclouded by darkness or mountains, untouched in its purity.

“Do you know the local legend about the Sacred Mountain?” Xie Lanxu asked.

“What is it?”

“It is said that those who pray sincerely to the mountain can have any wish granted.”

“Do you, Ah-Li, believe in miracles?”

Li Zhi immediately regretted her question as soon as it left her lips.

Xie Lanxu loathed prophecies—how could he possibly believe in miracles?

But his response caught her off guard, “I have 999 talismans of exorcism etched into my skin.”

Xie Lanxu did not outright deny the existence of miracles. Instead, he answered in his own enigmatic way.

“Each talisman was carved into my body with a silver needle dipped in medicinal solutions, over and over again.”

“I don’t feel pain. So whether it’s fire burning, water drowning, needles piercing, or branding irons searing—I never feel it.”

“But that night… I saw the look in your eyes.” Xie Lanxu paused, his gaze locking onto hers, deep and unwavering. “I remember that look.”

On the ceremonial altar, where prayer flags fluttered in the wind, the Crown Princess had called his name with a voice trembling with sorrow.

He remembered her clumsy steps as she dragged his frail body down from the altar. Surrounding them were numerous monks who did nothing to stop her. They merely looked on with sympathy and pity for the mother holding her barely-breathing son.

The Crown Princess had held him tightly, wiping the blood and tears from his face. She had gathered his fragile form in her arms, her thin frame staggering as she carried him step by step out of the hall.

He would never forget those silent, tear-filled eyes.

That night, Li Zhi had reminded him of the Crown Princess, of that pitiful woman who now rested in the grave.

When they first met, she had seemed so ordinary—like a speck of dust in the mundane world.

“From the first time I met you, you were like a mirror reflecting me.”

“Your expressions—neither too heavy nor too light. Your words—always striking the perfect note. Every movement, every glance, every smile seemed as if they were made for me.”

Looking at her, Xie Lanxu said, “To me, you are like a miracle.”

Her heartstrings, tightened like a taut bow, quivered with every word he uttered.

This kind of emotion—tenderness, vulnerability—had no place in their relationship. Compassion and guilt had no place here either.

Xie Lanxu retrieved something from his sleeve and gently slipped it onto her wrist.

It was the shell bracelet.

“To the ends of the earth, through hell or heaven,” he whispered, “stay by my side.”

——

The banquet prepared to honor the returning soldiers became more of a casual gathering of officials and local elites due to the absence of their commanding general.

As the wine flowed and conversation turned jovial, jokes flew around the table.

“No matter how great a hero, he cannot resist the charms of a beauty!” someone quipped. “The prince is surely lost in the embrace of some soft fragrance and tender warmth right now.”

The men seated at the table chuckled knowingly, sharing a round of laughter.

When Lu Han entered, the attendees immediately shifted their focus to congratulating him.

“If it weren’t for Commander Lu’s sharp judgment and decisive support of His Highness, we don’t know how many more days it would’ve taken to resolve the Yizhou rebellion!”

Lu Han, though still pale and recovering from his illness, responded with smiles and humility to the flood of compliments.

The events of recent days had taken a toll on both him and his wife. Their grief-stricken bodies had narrowly survived the blow, but with their enemy now vanquished, they were determined to press on with life.

When asked about Xie Lanxu’s absence, Lu Han smiled and said, “Tonight is just a small banquet to welcome our soldiers home. His Highness’s absence is no issue. After all, after fighting for more than ten consecutive days, even I would want to find a quiet place to sleep until dawn. Tomorrow, the formal victory banquet at the Duhu Mansion will be held—please, everyone, do come.”

Moqi Ling, the head of the Moqi clan, raised his cup and laughed heartily, “To celebrate His Highness’s triumph and my children’s contributions, Commander Lu, you must bring out your finest wines tomorrow night!”

“Of course,” Lu Han replied with a grin.

After ensuring the guests were well-entertained, Lu Han excused himself early, citing his lingering weakness.

Stepping out of the banquet hall, Lu Han climbed into his carriage to head home. But his trusted aide, Ma Guozi, was nowhere to be seen.

He waited for a while before Ma Guozi came sprinting over, out of breath.

“What hole did you fall into this time?” Lu Han teased. Though gruff, his tone was as familiar as one would use with a long-time family member.

Ma Guozi climbed aboard the carriage, grinning as if he were about to present a great treasure.

“Commander Lu, you won’t believe what I just found out!”

“Don’t waste your time spreading gossip about other people’s families,” Lu Han scolded, frowning. “What use do I have for that?”

“It’s not just gossip—it involves us too!” Ma Guozi said. “I heard from one of the Moqi clan’s coachmen—my old hometown buddy—that during tomorrow night’s banquet, the Moqi family is planning to formally propose their youngest daughter, Moqi Danliao, as a bride for His Highness!”

Lu Han’s expression shifted subtly, but he feigned ignorance. “And what of it?”

“Commander Lu, why play dumb?” Ma Guozi slapped his thigh dramatically. “You have always been His Highness’s benefactor, and he holds you in high regard. If such a match happens, wouldn’t it be a perfect alliance?”

“Nonsense! How could the Lu family dare to aspire so high?” Lu Han said sternly.

“If the Moqi family dares, why shouldn’t you?” Ma Guozi argued passionately. “The young lady of the Lu family is kind and gentle—if you marry her to anyone else, can you rest easy? But if her husband is His Highness, wouldn’t that put all your worries to rest?”

Though Lu Han rebuked Ma Guozi on the surface, his heart had already begun to waver.

“Tomorrow…” he thought.

Perhaps it was time to discuss this matter with his wife.

Translator’s Notes:

• “The affection of green bamboo, the love of pomegranate flowers” is a poetic metaphor often used to describe steadfast love and youthful passion.