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

When Xie Qinglan looked up, Pei Yuning's face was already inches away.

He had seen this face for ten years—a golden branch and jade leaf raised within the walls of the Nanyue Palace, whose eyes curved into two crescent moons when she smiled, and who had always been gentle and obedient.

But at this moment, his face was filled with resentment and malice, and his eyebrows and eyes were twisted with a stubborn and ruthless intensity.

"Brother Qinglan, do you know how long I've waited for this day?"

She spoke slowly and deliberately, "Three years. A full three years."

"Three years ago, on a similarly fine spring day, I entered Beishuo adorned in a ten-mile-long red bridal procession. My elder brother said that the emperor of Beishuo was famous from a young age, decisive in killing, and a first-rate figure in the world. With my looks and cunning, I was sure to be favored by the six palaces, secure my position as empress, and guard this marriage alliance line for Nanyue."

She gave a short laugh.

"The moment I stepped into the Xuanzheng Hall, I saw him. He was wearing a black dragon robe and a twelve-tassel crown, sitting upright on the dragon throne, even more aloof and handsome than the rumors had described. I thought to myself, this is the man who should be mine."

Pei Yuning paused, the resentment in her eyes brightening even more. "But he didn't look at me once, not even once. His soul has been glued to you ever since he entered the palace."

Xie Qinglan's fingertips curled slightly. He naturally remembered that day.

In the Golden Hall, officials lined up, holding their breath. He, as the envoy from Mount Heng escorting the bride, stood at the head of the delegation and was bowing when suddenly a crisp "clang" was heard from the imperial desk.

He looked up and met Xiao Jingyuan's eyes—the emperor had overturned his gilded wine cup, and the fine wine had spilled over the gold bricks and jade seams, yet he was completely unaware.

Those pale eyes looked past the elegantly dressed princess and fixed directly on him. After only a moment of eye contact, he hurriedly lowered his eyes, avoiding that burning gaze.

"I've been married into Beishuo for three years," Pei Yuning's voice rang out again.

"Three years. Do you know what that felt like? My husband is the most outstanding man in the world—he is young, handsome, and holds the power of the world, yet he has never shown me the slightest tenderness. Not even once."

"I am a princess sent for a political marriage, and he personally bestowed upon me the title of Consort Ning, yet he has never even set foot in my palace. The harem is empty, and he won't enter anyone else's door, but he insists on running to your Lan Yue Pavilion. He's been running there for three years, only to be met with cold shoulders for three years, yet he seems to enjoy it nonetheless."

"You always have a cold face and are stingy with even a smile, but the colder you are to him, the more he wants to cut out his heart and present it to you with both hands."

She spoke faster, her fingers gripping the handkerchief tightly, and she said through gritted teeth:

"Every day I hear the eunuchs reporting that His Majesty has gone to Lan Yue Pavilion again. His Majesty stood outside Lan Yue Pavilion all night. His Majesty gathered all the delicacies from Mount Heng and sent them to Lan Yue Pavilion. In the Imperial Study, His Majesty personally carved a jade hairpin with the pattern of winter orchids that can only be found in Mount Heng."

"Winter Orchid".

She clenched those two words, her teeth seeping with hatred: "I am the princess of Nanyue. Hanlan is the national flower of Nanyue. But from beginning to end, he only remembered you!"

Xie Qinglan felt an even greater pain in her heart.

Xiao Jingyuan had given him countless treasures, including the mutton-fat jade hairpin he received for his birthday last year. At the time, he had complained that the jade was too lustrous and the carvings too intricate, not to his liking. Xiao Jingyuan leaned against the doorframe, speaking casually, saying that he had just picked it out of the tribute items, so he didn't pay it any mind and casually placed it in the deepest part of his dressing case.

It turns out that he carved it by hand.

If I had known... I should have worn it more often.

He was in a daze when he suddenly felt a force on his wrist, pulling him off the table and causing him to collapse to the ground, utterly exhausted. The poison had already spread through his blood vessels, and a chill ran through his bones; he couldn't muster any strength at all.

Pei Yuning suddenly grabbed his shirt, her voice shrill, almost screaming:

"Why should I?!"

"In what way do I, Pei Yuning, fall short of you? Why is it that you always get what I've tried so hard to obtain but couldn't get!"

Why are all these people pounceing on you like dogs?!

Xie Qinglan's consciousness was fading away little by little, but every word Pei Yuning said was clearly pierced into her ears.

He couldn't understand why the child he had raised resented him so much.

"I've wanted to kill you for a long time." Pei Yuning loosened his collar, straightened up, and her tone calmed. "I've wanted to since my first month in the palace. But do you know how well he protected you?"

A mocking smile played on her lips: "You probably never know—around Lan Yue Pavilion, three hundred shadow guards take turns guarding the area day and night, each one a top-tier assassin from Northern Shu personally selected by him. The leader, Ye Qi, is a trusted confidant he personally trained from mountains of corpses and seas of blood."

"All the men my brother and I sent are dead." Pei Yuning chuckled softly, a hint of self-mockery in her smile. "Three years, countless attempts, all unsuccessful. Three hundred men, guarding day and night—even when he goes to court, to offer sacrifices to Heaven, or to lead an expedition in person, those three hundred men will not withdraw."

He values ​​you more than his own life.

Blood slid down Xie Qinglan's cheek, blurring her vision.

He knew, but he didn't know there was so much.

Lan Yue Pavilion was always very quiet, so quiet that it seemed isolated from the world. He always thought that Xiao Jingyuan was restraining him and keeping him at arm's length, and that it was a prison.

Unexpectedly, this "cage" protected him solidly for three years.

Pei Yuning suddenly stopped laughing, her voice turning cold: "But then I realized. Killing doesn't necessarily require you to do it yourself. You can let your prey walk right into the line of fire."

Xie Qinglan's pupils suddenly contracted.

"I told Xiao Jingyuan—If Your Majesty wants to win over Consort Xie, you can't let him feel like he's being watched. Remove the shadow guards and sentries, and make him feel that you trust him. A proud man like him doesn't like being treated like a prisoner."

"He sat in the Imperial Study all night, and came to see me before dawn the next day, his eyes bloodshot. He said you were right, he must be angry that I've been keeping him in such a confinement."

"I told him you're more responsive to gentle persuasion than force, and that if you coax him into a proper apology, he might forgive you."

A slow smile curved her lips. "He believed it. He actually believed it. A tyrant who kills without hesitation actually believed me. Because he wanted you to be happy so badly—even just a little bit."

She leaned down and whispered in Xie Qinglan's ear, her voice as soft as a lover's murmur.

"This morning, all the shadow guards were withdrawn. Lan Yue Pavilion is finally empty. Xiao Jingyuan also left the palace—he went to the pastry shop in the south of the city that you casually praised as 'edible' and personally bought you osmanthus cake. He thought today was a good day, that your attitude towards him had finally softened a bit, and that after some time, perhaps you would even smile at him."

Pei Yuning straightened up, slowly pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve, and gently placed it on the table.

Xie Qinglan recognized the paper—it was his usual Nanyue plain paper, soft and resilient, with a faint bamboo fragrance.

"Look how ridiculous it is. He loves you to the point of madness, and you hate him to the bone. Today, he personally removed your shield and personally delivered me to you."

"You should be thanking me. You've always been proud and arrogant, never willing to submit to him. I'm seeing you off on this journey, which is a dignified way to end things."

She turned around, her skirt trailing an elegant arc on the ground.

"I will be a good Consort Ning. The Empress of Bei Shuo will one day be mine. And you—"

She turned back and looked at Xie Qinglan one last time, "Just die here in peace."

The footsteps gradually disappeared into the spring light and were completely silenced.

Xie Qinglan collapsed to the ground, blood slowly seeping from her seven orifices, dripping onto the scarlet carpet and leaving a small, dark stain.

His eyes were open, but his vision was already blurred. There was a dark purple line of blood at the corner of his mouth, and he couldn't even lift his fingertips.

But the excruciating pain in my internal organs gradually subsided.

It was at this moment that he suddenly remembered the first winter he was imprisoned, the heavy snow that fell all around.

That night, the charcoal fire in Lan Yue Pavilion burned brightly. He leaned against the window, turning the pages of a book, when he suddenly heard a soft rustling sound from the roof. He glanced up and didn't think much of it. It wasn't until late at night, when he got up to close the window, that he saw a figure crouching on the roof of a side hall amidst the swirling snow, his shoulders and head covered in snow, looking like a clumsy, snow-covered dog. When the figure saw him looking at him, he paused, then hurriedly raised his hand and waved, his mouth forming an awkward gesture—"It's nothing, I just wanted to see you."

He closed the window with a blank expression.

He recalled last night, when that person lingered with him for half the night, and afterward, nestled on his lap, whispering sweet nothings. Finally, she hugged his waist and asked, with a pitiful expression:

"Qinglan, can't you like me even a little bit?"

Yes, you can.

He agreed in his heart.

But I didn't say it then, and now I feel a little resentful of my stubborn pride—I even delayed saying a soft word until I couldn't say it at all.

He hadn't had a chance to say that the osmanthus cake from the south of the city actually tasted very good. He hadn't had a chance to say that he had secretly worn that jade hairpin once, gazing at himself in the bronze mirror for a long time in the dead of night. And he hadn't had a chance to say—

Xiao Jingyuan, actually I—

In the final moment before his consciousness plunged into darkness, he saw no Pei Yuning, no palace walls of Nanyue, no vast land, and no trace of his decade of power and influence.

He only saw a handsome face, smiling gently at him, a paper package tucked into his arms, the steam blurring his features, and he said:

"Qinglan, I brought you osmanthus cake."

Suddenly, he vomited a mouthful of black blood, and the illusory image before his eyes shattered abruptly—there was no one there, only an empty house and a sliver of spring light seeping in.

He tilted his head slightly and looked out the window. The crabapple blossoms in the courtyard were falling softly, petals landing one by one in the spring sunshine.

He couldn't wait any longer.

His eyelashes slowly drooped and never lifted again.