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

The instant consciousness broke through the chaos, a sharp, piercing voice suddenly entered his ears—

"The Envoy of Nanyue, Prime Minister Xie Qinglan, accompanied by Princess Anping, comes to pay homage—"

Xie Qinglan suddenly opened her eyes.

Golden pillars adorned with coiled dragons and adorned with azure wolf totems; a crimson carpet stretched from the ground to the depths of the main hall; and on either side stood black-armored warriors with curved swords at their waists, exuding a chilling aura of menace.

Above the nine jade steps, a dark figure sat on the dragon throne.

It's Xiao Jingyuan.

The knuckles of my fingers suddenly tightened in my sleeve, my nails dug into my palm, and a sharp pain spread through me—it was not a dream.

He actually... came back.

Let's go back to the day he brought Pei Yuning to the palace for an audience and first met Xiao Jingyuan.

His heart jolted, a mixture of surprise and joy swirling within him, all of which he suppressed beneath the cold, hard dough, not letting a single drop escape.

He heard light footsteps behind him, and Pei Yuning, wearing a nine-phoenix crown and a bright red wedding dress, walked past him.

In his past life, he personally straightened her phoenix crown; in this life, he lowered his eyes to gaze at her flowing skirt, his fingertips feeling cool. No one knew how much effort he had exerted to avoid snapping her slender neck on the spot.

"Envoy Xie Qinglan of Mount Heng greets Your Majesty."

He bowed respectfully, his tone calm. He entered the court at sixteen and became prime minister at twenty-two; the ability to conceal one's emotions was ingrained in his very being.

I lowered my eyes and waited for a long time, but the expected crisp sound of the wine cup overturning did not come.

"Prime Minister, you have come from afar; your journey must have been arduous." The voice above was deep and indifferent. "Please take a seat."

Xie Qinglan's heart sank suddenly.

No, that's not right. In his past life, this person stared at him for a long time before smiling and reciting the line "A gentle breeze rises, and waves surge," saying that he was as his name suggested, refined and elegant as the waves.

He looked up and saw the person on the dragon throne wearing a black robe embroidered with gold, with a cold and hard expression. When his gaze swept over him, there was not the slightest pause.

Xie Qinglan's breathing became slightly labored.

Everything was in chaos. Those eyes from his past life, burning like fire the moment they met, clung to him and wouldn't budge an inch.

The banquet proceeded as planned. Xiao Jingyuan bestowed upon Pei Yuning the title of "Consort Ning" and granted her residence in Chang Le Palace, exactly as he had done in his previous life.

After the banquet, Xie Qinglan was placed in the royal guesthouse, instead of being forcibly kept in the palace as she had been in her previous life.

As he was leaving the hall, he took one last look at the emperor as he turned back to pay his respects. The young emperor of Beishuo was rising from his dragon throne, his black dragon robe accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, his eyes radiating a profound imperial majesty.

She didn't look at him again from beginning to end.

Xie Qinglan turned and left the hall, her palms already marked with blood from being dug into by her fingernails.

He refused to believe it. The person who, in his past life, wished he could have glued his eyes to him, now wouldn't even spare a glance. There must be a reason he didn't know.

It was late at night. At the Royal Inn.

After taking a bath, Xie Qinglan changed into a moon-white nightgown, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, the ends still damp.

He stood in front of the bronze mirror for a long time, confirming that he looked acceptable.

He had never cared about his appearance, but tonight he lingered in front of the bronze mirror for a while longer to tidy himself up.

In his past life, at this time, he would have already been forcibly detained in the palace. By now, that person should have already climbed in through the window and forced him onto the bed…

He remembered those hands—burning hot, calloused, sending a shiver down his spine as they touched his skin. He remembered the man's breath—rapid, scorching, hot against his neck, as if trying to melt him completely…

The palace was some distance from the post station, and it would take some time to get there. He sat by the window, waiting quietly.

If Xiao Jingyuan were to return in this life, he would—

So what then?

Xie Qinglan pondered for a long time, and finally came up with four words for herself: half-heartedly.

He lowered his eyelashes, and the tips of his ears felt slightly warm.

An hour passed.

Two hours passed.

There was still no movement outside the window.

Xie Qinglan's back gradually stiffened.

Why isn't he coming?

Today in the main hall, the person's behavior was completely different from that of his previous life, so he knew that the person had most likely been reborn.

But I just can't understand it—having been reborn, why have I lost interest in him?

impossible.

After a long while, he pursed his lips.

If they don't want to come, they don't want to come.

As he got up and walked toward the couch, he suddenly heard a very faint sound coming from the roof—the sound of clothes brushing against the roof tiles.

Xie Qinglan stopped in her tracks.

He recognized the voice. In his previous life, he had been imprisoned in Lan Yue Pavilion for a month. He resisted fiercely, and Xiao Jingyuan dared not force his way in. So he squatted on the roof every night, thinking he was being quiet, but in fact he could hear the slightest sound of every tile.

He slowly raised his eyes and looked towards the direction of the roof beam.

The person on the roof must be Xiao Jingyuan.

He still came.

Xie Qinglan's lips curved into a very faint smile in the darkness.

He stood in the shadows, looking up at the tiled roof. The man was crouching at that end, his breathing barely a whisper, separated by the terracotta layer.

The tyrant who dared to break into the room through the window on the very first night they met, who pinned him down on the bed and kissed him, and who held him in his arms while he was dry, in this life he only dares to squat on the roof.

Why don't you dare come in? In his past life, on the night before he died, that person was still clinging to him tightly. Now, this state of affairs just doesn't make sense.

He waited a moment. The person on the roof didn't move, and neither did he.

Separated by a single tile, two lifetimes of love and hate, countless unresolved thoughts, all sink into the cool stillness of this spring night.

After a long while, he heard a very soft, suppressed sigh.

Then the fabric brushed against the tiles, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

he's gone.

Xie Qinglan stood in the darkness, the slight smile on her lips fading away.

He didn't chase after them, nor did he sleep; he just stood there all night.

As dawn broke, a maid brought in hot tea and added a note: "His Majesty stayed at Chang Le Palace last night. The Prime Minister need not attend the court assembly today."

Xie Qinglan paused slightly in his hand holding the teacup, the celadon cup cracking softly between his fingers as the cracks spread from the rim to the bottom. He placed the teacup back on the tray, his expression unreadable.

"understood."

This was absurd and laughable; he didn't believe it at all.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Study.

Xiao Jingyuan stood with his hands behind his back by the window, having not slept all night, his eyes bloodshot. He gazed in the direction of the post station and slowly opened his palms.

There were four deep, bone-revealing bloodstains on his palms, not yet scabbed over—he had dug them out with his fingernails while crouching on the roof, afraid he wouldn't be able to resist rushing in.

After a long while, he took out a jade pendant from his sleeve. The jade was warm and translucent. It was given to him by his mother before she passed away, who said it was for her future daughter-in-law.

In his past life, he had carefully tied this jade pendant to that person's waist. At that time, the person turned their head away with a cold face and said "no," but never took it off.

Xiao Jingyuan ran his fingertips along the engravings on the jade pendant, then suddenly let out a bitter laugh.

He put the jade pendant back into his sleeve, turned around and walked to the imperial desk.

A breeze picked up outside the window, causing the memorials on the desk to rustle and turn.

The topmost document is the "Regulations for Marriage Alliance" presented by the Ministry of Rites, with a line of small print at the end: "Prime Minister Xie Qinglan of Nanyue shall lead the marriage alliance delegation to return home within three days."

Xiao Jingyuan stared at the line of words and remained silent for a long time.

He then picked up the vermilion brush and drew a sharp cross across the line of text. The brushstrokes were sharp, and the ink was deep red, like a bleeding scar.

He threw the vermilion pen onto the table, braced his hands on the edge of the table, his shoulders and back trembling slightly.

After a long pause, he finally managed to squeeze out a single, hoarse, and broken sentence, it was unclear who he was speaking to:

"In this life, I will not force you."

"But I can't... let you go."

Outside the window, the chill of spring in the north had not yet dissipated. A breeze swept through the hall, causing the candlelight to flicker and cast his solitary shadow on the wall, sometimes long, sometimes short.

In the distance, towards the inn, a light was still on in one of the windows. The person under that light had also stayed up all night.

Separated by the entire palace, their thoughts remained hidden in the deepest darkness before dawn.

Waiting for dawn.