After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Xie Qinglan cried herself to sleep and drifted off to sleep.

Xiao Jingyuan did not sleep.

He held the person in his arms and sat motionless all night.

The person in his arms had a low body temperature, curled up on his chest, breathing shallowly and slowly, with undried tears still clinging to their eyelashes, occasionally sobbing in their sleep, like a cat that had been soaked by the rain and finally found its nest.

Xiao Jingyuan lowered his head, his lips gently brushing against the top of his head.

I dared not use force, for fear of waking him.

As dawn approached, Gao An, speaking in a low voice outside the palace, announced, "Your Majesty, it's time for court."

Xiao Jingyuan did not respond.

After a moment, Gao An reported it again.

"It is my decree that I will not attend court today."

Gao An stood outside the hall for a moment, then acknowledged and withdrew. He had served the Emperor for over a decade and had never seen His Majesty skip court. Even when the Emperor was wounded by an arrow during a personal military campaign, he was carried to the Xuanzheng Hall.

But now, he has skipped court for four consecutive days.

The sun was high in the sky when Xie Qinglan finally woke up. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a bright yellow scene—bright yellow brocade quilts, bright yellow curtains, and bright yellow dragon patterns.

This is not Tingxuexuan.

He tried to sit up by bracing himself against the bed, but all his bones felt like they had been dismantled, especially his lower back, which was so sore and weak. He managed to lift himself up only half an inch before falling back down.

An arm reached out from the side and steadily supported his waist.

"Don't move."

Xiao Jingyuan's voice came from above, hoarse and deep.

Xie Qinglan turned her head and met a pair of bloodshot eyes. The man was still wearing that rumpled dragon robe, the bloodstains on his chest had dried to a dark brown, and he had bluish stubble on his chin, looking far too haggard for an emperor.

Xie Qinglan turned her face away, refusing to look at him.

"Your Majesty, I wish to return to Tingxue Pavilion."

Xiao Jingyuan's hand froze for a moment, then slowly withdrew from his waist.

"……good."

He didn't try to stop him; he didn't dare to.

Last night, Xie Qinglan cried so hard in his arms that he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would push her too far.

Xiao Jingyuan ordered a sedan chair to be prepared and personally carried Xie Qinglan onto it.

Xie Qinglan did not struggle or look at him. She simply leaned against the sedan chair wall, closed her eyes, and her face was so pale it was almost transparent.

When the sedan chair arrived at the entrance of Tingxuexuan, Xie Qinglan opened her eyes.

The courtyard gate was newly replaced; the one he had kicked away was nowhere to be seen. The courtyard was spotless, and the seals on the window grilles had been removed, letting in bright sunlight.

He froze for a moment.

Xiao Jingyuan stood beside the sedan chair, not following it inside.

"The door to Tingxuexuan... I ordered the lock to be removed." His voice was very soft, as if he were explaining or admitting his mistake.

"You can go wherever you want. But—" He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, "Don't leave Beishuo. That's my final bottom line."

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. The final line—it still sounded like a threat.

But that's clearly not what he meant.

He wasn't threatening; he was pleading.

What he wanted to say was: I can give you anything—freedom, dignity, even my life—take it all. I only ask that you live, that you stay where I can see you.

Xie Qinglan glanced back at him, said nothing, and turned to walk into the courtyard.

Xiao Jingyuan stood outside the door, staring at the closed door for a long time.

Xie Qinglan fell ill on the third day after returning to Tingxuexuan.

The imperial physician said it wasn't a serious illness, but rather that the person had been too stressed in recent days, and the emotional distress and poor blood circulation had caused a low-grade fever.

When Xiao Jingyuan received the news, he was in the Imperial Study reviewing memorials. He put down his vermilion brush and ran towards Tingxue Pavilion. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped, standing in the middle of the palace path, caught in a dilemma.

If he goes, will Xie Qinglan be even more unhappy?

He had done that to him just a few days ago—pressing him down on the dragon bed and harassing him day and night; he must hate him to the core.

He couldn't bear to leave without going.

He stood on the palace path for a full half incense stick's time, and finally left.

But he didn't go into the main hall. He stood outside the window, peeking inside through the half-open window frame.

Xie Qinglan leaned against the headboard, her face pale, her lips almost bloodless. The imperial physician was taking her pulse, while Gao An waited by with a bowl of medicine.

Xiao Jingyuan dared not go in. He was afraid that if Xie Qinglan saw him, she would be reminded of those unpleasant things and her illness would worsen.

He stood outside the window for the entire afternoon. When his legs went numb, he switched to supporting himself with the other leg; when it got dark, he continued to look by the light of the lanterns under the eaves.

Gao An came out carrying a bowl of medicine, and when he saw him, he was startled: "Your Majesty—"

Xiao Jingyuan covered his mouth, pulled him to the corner, and asked in a low voice, "Did you take your medicine?"

"No, no," Gao An said with a bitter face. "Lord Xie said it was too bitter and refused to drink it."

Xiao Jingyuan frowned.

He remembered that Xie Qinglan had acted the same way in his past life when she was sick, always pushing the medicine bowl aside because she disliked its bitterness. What did he do then?

He ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare a dish of candied fruit.

"Go to the imperial kitchen and get a dish of candied plums," Xiao Jingyuan ordered. "Also, brew a new bowl of medicine, add some licorice root, and make it less bitter."

"Yes."

Gao An was about to leave when Xiao Jingyuan grabbed him again.

"Don't say I was here."

Gao An paused for a moment, then nodded and hurried away.

Xiao Jingyuan continued to stand outside the window, watching Xie Qinglan lean against the headboard, turning her head to look out the window.

Unbeknownst to him, Xie Qinglan was also watching him.

He saw the black figure, which was more than half a head taller than the ordinary palace servants, standing behind the pillar. He thought he was well hidden, but in fact, the lantern light cast a long shadow that fell on the window paper.

That man stood outside the window all afternoon. He spent the whole afternoon watching his own shadow from inside the window.

When the medicine was delivered that evening, there was an extra dish of candied plums next to the medicine bowl. The plums were coated with glistening sugar frosting, sweet with a hint of sourness, a flavor of Nanyue.

Xie Qinglan picked up the medicine bowl and drank it all in one gulp. Then she picked up a plum and put it in her mouth.

Very sweet.

He looked down at the plate of plums and suddenly smiled. That person had clearly come, stood outside the window all afternoon in the cold wind, yet hadn't dared to even come inside.

Even when delivering a plate of candied fruit, one had to ask a eunuch to do it, for fear that people would find out that it was he who sent it.

coward.

Xie Qinglan spat the plum pit into her handkerchief, the smile on her lips fading little by little.

Since you're here, why not come in? Why not explain yourself clearly? Why, even though you're moving closer to him with every step, do you always pull back at the last moment?

He recalled the endless entanglement on the dragon bed those past few days, the man covering his mouth to prevent him from speaking, the dishes, the pile of jewels, the jade dildo, and the Cold Moon Sword—

He still can't figure out whether Xiao Jingyuan loved him or not in this life.

Xie Qinglan's illness dragged on for four or five days, with the fever rising and falling repeatedly. The imperial physician said it was due to emotional distress, and medicine could only treat the symptoms; a mental illness required a mental cure.

A knot of resentment hung in his heart. Xiao Jingyuan chewed on these four words over and over, and the more he chewed, the more bitter they became.

In his past life, Xie Qinglan was in the same state when he was first imprisoned in Lan Yue Pavilion—illness struck like a landslide, but recovered slowly and painlessly. Every time the imperial physician came, he said, "His heart is burdened with unresolved emotions." At that time, he didn't understand, thinking it was just a platitude from the imperial physician to shirk responsibility. Later, after Xie Qinglan died, he realized what that "unresolved emotions" truly meant. It was Xie Qinglan who had imprisoned him in that gilded cage, clipped his wings, and yet still dared to expect him to smile at him.

Is letting go the only option? Let him go, never to be seen again, let him return to Nanyue to be his prime minister, let him live the life he was meant to live—without the tyrant's coercion, without the imprisonment in the cold palace, without those nauseating nights. Will he get better? Will he be happy? Will he ever, even just occasionally, remember that someone in Beishuo once loved him to the bone?

No. He couldn't do it. Letting him go would be sending him back to Pei Nanchi's clutches. Nanyue was thousands of miles away, beyond his reach. He'd rather let him hate him than leave him in Beishuo, in a place he could protect.

Seeing Xie Qinglan's condition fluctuating, Xiao Jingyuan was so anxious that blisters appeared on the corners of his mouth.

Every day after court, he would come to Tingxuexuan, stand by the window and glance out, asking Gao An, "Has your fever subsided today?" "Did you take your medicine?" "How much food did you eat?" After receiving a reply, he would leave.

He never enters the palace, and never shows his face.