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

Xiao Jingyuan's hand holding the paper began to tremble. It felt as if something had struck his chest hard, making his eyes sting.

A great ruler of his generation.

To catch a glimpse of its splendor.

Xie Qinglan once wrote about him in this way.

It wasn't that she hated him to the bone, it wasn't that she treated him coldly, it wasn't that she was forced into it—it was that she admired him, she was curious, and she genuinely wanted to come to Beishuo to see him.

That proud Xie Qinglan, that Xie Qinglan who never bowed his head to anyone, that Xie Qinglan who was as cold as ice and ignored everyone—he once wrote about a person he had never met with such passionate words.

And that person was him.

Xiao Jingyuan felt as if something was blocking his throat, making it hard for him to breathe.

And then what? Then Xie Qinglan really came to Beishuo and really met him, but what did he see?

He was a beast who broke into his room through the window and pinned him to the bed the very night they met.

He was a madman who imprisoned him in the Lanyue Pavilion and threatened him with the lives of others and the survival of Nanyue.

He is someone who doesn't even understand his preferences and only treats him in the dumbest, stupidest, and most domineering way.

He was a complete scoundrel who had nothing to do with the "great talent and ambition" and "destined to become a great ruler" he portrayed in his writing.

He destroyed all his expectations.

The boy who wrote "I regret not being born a Beishuo person" on the paper stepped into the golden palace of Beishuo with longing, wanting to see the hero he had admired for a long time.

But the hero took him as his own the moment they met, locked him in the palace, and trampled all his pride underfoot.

What was he feeling at the time? He must have felt disgusted, ridiculous, and that he had been blind to have ever admired such a person.

Xiao Jingyuan's hand holding the paper was trembling violently, causing the entire paper to rustle slightly.

Then he remembered this life. In this life, he didn't break through the window and take advantage of him that night, but he still locked him in Tingxuexuan and still pressed him down on the dragon bed, forcing him to cry until he fainted.

He forced himself on him again. In the same despicable way as in his previous life, he shattered all of that person's illusions about him once more.

Xiao Jingyuan carefully placed the paper on the imperial desk, his movements so light it was as if he were touching something that would break at the slightest touch.

Then he stood up, turned around and walked to the window, his back to Ye Qi and Gao An.

Fine snowflakes fluttered down outside the window. He stood there for a long time, so long that Gao An and Ye Qi looked at each other, unsure whether to speak.

Then Gao An noticed that his emperor's shoulders were trembling. It was very light, very subtle, as if he was trying his best to restrain something, or as if he could no longer restrain himself.

"Your Majesty?" Gao An called out cautiously.

no respond.

Xiao Jingyuan braced his hands against the windowsill, his head bowed, his expression unreadable. His knuckles were white as he gripped the windowsill, his fingertips almost digging into the wood grain.

The old wound on his palm, which hadn't fully healed, split open again, and blood seeped out, trickling down the wood grain of the windowsill and dripping onto the gold bricks.

He could no longer feel the pain.

He regretted it. He really regretted it.

In his past life, he often wondered if things would have been different if their beginnings hadn't been forced, if they had met on a different occasion—if there hadn't been that absurd night when he climbed in through the window, if he had met him as an emperor, openly and honestly, spoken to him, listened to his political discussions, and accompanied him to admire swords.

But he never imagined that there really was a chance. It turned out that in that person's childhood, on that yellowed page, there had been an admiration from a stranger, a longing that spanned thousands of miles.

It turns out that the person came to Beishuo with expectations.

But he crushed that expectation with his own hands. He crushed it once in his past life, and he crushed it again in this one.

When Xie Qinglan wrote "I regret not being born a person from Beishuo", he probably never dreamed that he would later not even want to look at the person from Beishuo whom he once admired.

Every word that boy wrote in his journal now felt like a rusty, dull knife, cutting into the softest part of his heart.

He recalled Xie Qinglan holding a shard of porcelain to his throat in his past life, her eyes red as if about to bleed, her voice trembling as she said, "I hate you."

At the time, he didn't understand why, thinking it was just because he had taken advantage of him, thinking it was just because he had imprisoned him.

Now he knows.

It's not just that I hate his coercion, it's not just that I hate his imprisonment.

He hated that the hero in his heart had been destroyed by his own hands.

That fifteen-year-old young general who led three thousand light cavalry to kill the enemy chieftain on the battlefield, that man who once wrote "I will surely become a great ruler" in his notes, was actually an absolute beast.

"I hate you"—these three words contain not only humiliation, but also the shattered dreams of a young boy.

Xiao Jingyuan slowly raised his hand and covered his face.

He thought: Xie Qinglan now would probably write—"When we met again later, I was greatly disappointed; he was nothing special." "I regret coming to Beishuo." "Xiao Jingyuan is truly all show and no substance."

Xiao Jingyuan lowered his hand and turned around. His eyes were red, but there were no tears.

He was the emperor of Beishuo, and he could not shed tears in front of his subjects.

He simply walked to the imperial desk, picked up the scroll, carefully folded it, and tucked it into his robe, close to his heart.

"Gao An."

"Your servant is here."

"Go tell him," Xiao Jingyuan's voice was hoarse and broken, as if it were being ground out bit by bit from his chest, "that I will not go tonight."

Gao An was stunned.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty?"

Just a moment ago he was so happy he jumped up from the dragon throne, how come he changed his mind after reading a few pages?

"Go ahead. Tell him that I haven't finished my official duties and will visit him another day."

Gao An opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just lowered his head and replied "Yes," then turned and left.

"Your Majesty..." Ye Qi hesitated, wanting to speak but then stopped.

"Go to Tingxue Pavilion," Xiao Jingyuan said in a low voice, "and keep watch. If anything seems amiss—"

He paused.

What should I do if there are any abnormalities?

The fact that the person had invited him to see the flowers was itself the biggest anomaly. He was now skeptical that Xie Qinglan would genuinely want to see him; he feared that something unthinkable might be hidden behind this anomaly.

"Report any unusual activity immediately."

"Yes."

Ye Qi disappeared from the palace.

Xiao Jingyuan sat alone behind his desk, gazing at the fine snow falling outside the window, remaining motionless for a long time.

He was even more afraid to see Xie Qinglan now.

He couldn't face him. He didn't know what expression to wear when he saw that person. He was afraid that he would kneel down, cry, and beg for forgiveness as soon as they met.

The light snow outside the window stopped sometime ago.

In the distance, towards Tingxuexuan, the snow on the crabapple branches has melted, and the petals, bent under the weight, bounce back and sway gently in the night breeze.

Tingxuexuan (Listening to Snow Pavilion)

Xie Qinglan waited all day.

From dawn until dusk, from the swirling snowflakes until the snow stopped and the clouds dispersed, until the lanterns under the eaves lit up one by one, their orange light reflecting on the damp blue brick floor, like shattered moonlight scattered on the ground.

He didn't come.

Xie Qinglan stood under the veranda, looking at the empty alleyway at the courtyard gate. The snow on the crabapple branches had melted, most of the petals had been knocked off, and the remaining few hung forlornly, shivering in the night wind.

"Sir Xie, it's getting chilly outside, please come inside," Gao An said cautiously from behind.

Xie Qinglan did not move.

"His Majesty said... he'll come when he has time another day." Gao An's voice grew softer and softer until it was almost inaudible.

Xie Qinglan lowered her eyes.

I'll find time another day.

He mentally went over those two words over and over again.

In his past life, that person tried everything to see him, from scaling walls and kicking down doors to crouching on rooftops.

He would come to see him before going to court and after going to court, and sometimes he would even bring his memorials to the Lanyue Pavilion for review.

Now that he has taken the initiative to invite him to come and see the flowers, he says he will "find time another day".

Xie Qinglan's lips curved into a very faint arc, an arc that contained no smile, only an indescribable bitterness.

When has Xie Qinglan ever been so humble?