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

The next morning.

Xiao Jingyuan was awakened by a ray of morning light piercing through the white gauze. His head felt like it had been crushed by a blunt object all night; his temples throbbed with pain, and even the back of his neck was stiff and numb.

He groggily tried to sit up, but his elbows pressed into a soft, cloud-patterned brocade quilt, the touch cool and carrying a very faint, cool fragrance belonging to another person.

He suddenly opened his eyes.

The first thing you see is a plain white gauze curtain. There are no golden dragon patterns on the top of the curtain, only a few strands of silver thread embroidered with sparse bamboo, which shimmer with a faint light in the morning light.

The palace was not large, and its furnishings were so simple and elegant that they did not resemble a royal residence. White porcelain teacups on the table emitted wisps of warmth, and a long sword with a black sheath stood in the corner.

Outside the window, the crisp chirping of birds mingled with the faint fragrance of crabapple blossoms, gently wafting into my nostrils.

Xiao Jingyuan's heart suddenly clenched.

This is Tingxuexuan.

How could he be sleeping in Tingxuexuan's bed?

He looked down at himself—the dragon robe hung rumpled on his body, the front open, and large patches of dried wine stains remained on his chest.

Her hair ornament had long since rolled away, her dark hair was disheveled and draped over her shoulders, her face was tense and uncomfortable, and when she raised her hand to touch it, she found dried tear stains.

He tried desperately to recall what happened last night, but his mind was like a lump of paste that he couldn't clear no matter how hard he tried.

He remembered drinking in the Imperial Study. As he drank, he began to miss Xie Qinglan. He couldn't bear the longing, so he took the wine jar and went out.

Beyond that, there is only blank space.

He raised his hand to cover his face.

It’s over.

The palace doors creaked open, letting in a cool breeze carrying the morning dew.

Xie Qinglan slowly walked in carrying a bowl of hangover soup. She was still wearing a moon-white brocade robe, a jade belt around her waist, and her hair was as black as ink. Her aloofness remained unchanged, as if nothing had happened last night.

He placed the celadon bowl on the low table by the bedside, the rim of the bowl touching the wooden surface with a soft sound.

"You're awake." His tone was flat, devoid of emotion. "Drink this; it'll relieve your headache."

Xiao Jingyuan peeked out from between his fingers and cautiously glanced at Xie Qinglan.

Seeing that his expression was normal, she tentatively asked, "What...what did I do last night?"

Xie Qinglan glanced at him, raising an eyebrow slightly: "Your Majesty doesn't remember?"

Xiao Jingyuan desperately searched his memory, only to find a few fragmented images—a wine jar, moonlight, Xie Qinglan's face... and the fact that he seemed to be crying.

He shook his head, his expression innocent and bewildered.

Xie Qinglan watched him quietly for a long time, so long that Xiao Jingyuan's heartbeat became irregular, before she picked up the bowl of hangover soup and handed it to him.

His fingers were long and slender, white, with distinct knuckles, gripping the edge of the celadon bowl, with a glimpse of the white jade bracelet on his wrist.

A very faint curve appeared at the corner of her lips, as quick as a dragonfly skimming the water, gone in an instant.

"It's nothing." His voice remained cold. "His Majesty was just drunk. He clung to my leg and cried for an hour. He said he was a bastard, sorry to me, and that he would never dare to slam the door and leave again."

Xiao Jingyuan: "..."

Xiao Jingyuan almost spilled the hangover soup in his hand.

The expression on his face changed from bewilderment to shock, from shock to embarrassment, and finally settled on a deep, inescapable sense of shame and awkwardness.

He frantically steadied the bowl, instinctively lowering his head to gulp down a large mouthful. The scalding hot medicine, mixed with the slight sweetness of licorice and the spiciness of ginger, slid down his throat, burning his tongue and almost making him choke.

He coughed twice, covering his mouth, his eyes welling up with tears, so embarrassed he wished he could dig a hole in the ground and disappear right there.

Xie Qinglan didn't say anything more, she just looked at him quietly.

Xiao Jingyuan felt a chill run down his spine from the look in his eyes. Suddenly remembering something, he abruptly raised his head, his eyes filled with almost desperate anxiety: "Then...did I do anything even more outrageous to you?"

Xie Qinglan's gaze fell on his reddened eyes, and the scene from last night suddenly surged into her mind—that person's hot lips landed on the corners of his eyes and brows, carrying a strong smell of alcohol and surging grievances, repeating his name over and over again.

Later, she pressed him down on the couch and kissed him clumsily and fiercely until they were both breathless. In the end, she buried her face in his neck like a wounded little animal, her shoulders trembling slightly, and cried herself to sleep.

He lowered his eyes, concealing the fleeting ripples in them, turned and walked to the table, sat down, picked up the cup of warm tea and took a sip.

"No." He replied calmly.

Xiao Jingyuan visibly breathed a sigh of relief, his heart having just settled down halfway, when he heard Xie Qinglan add unhurriedly, "Your Majesty just wouldn't let go of my leg. My new nightgown from last night was completely soiled by Your Majesty's snot and tears."

Xiao Jingyuan: "..."

Xiao Jingyuan looked down at his rumpled dragon robe. Sure enough, there were several dried tear stains on the lapel, as well as a slightly darker stain—probably from rubbing.

His ears suddenly burned: "...I, I will compensate you with one."

"There's one more thing." Xie Qinglan put down her teacup and tapped the table lightly with her fingertips. "His Majesty made a promise last night."

Xiao Jingyuan looked up, staring at him warily: "What?"

"His Majesty said that General Shen has made meritorious contributions to disaster relief, and after the disaster relief work is completed, he will be summoned back to the capital and rewarded handsomely."

Xiao Jingyuan's face instantly changed from an embarrassed blush to a grimace. His eyebrows shot up, and his eyes widened as if someone had stepped on his tail: "Impossible! I would never say such a thing! That bastard, I wish he could eat sand in the Western Territory for the rest of his life!"

Xie Qinglan's lips twitched very slightly, as quickly as a gust of wind, and disappeared in an instant from that cold face.

He looked at Xiao Jingyuan and slowly spoke, each word clear and distinct: "Your Majesty's exact words last night were—'That scoundrel Shen Hanzhou, I'll send him to the Western Frontier to eat sand for two months, not a day less. But I am a wise ruler, fair in rewards and punishments. He has rendered meritorious service in disaster relief, and I will reward him accordingly.'"

He tilted his head slightly, his tone carrying just the right amount of innocence: "Your Majesty doesn't remember?"

Xiao Jingyuan's expression faltered for a moment.

That... does sound like something he would say. The first half was said in a fit of pique, and the second half was a forced attempt to salvage the situation.

He looked at Xie Qinglan suspiciously, trying to find a trace of lying on that calm face.

Xie Qinglan met his gaze calmly, her dark eyes clear and unwavering, without the slightest ripple.

"Did I... really say it?"

"Does Your Majesty think I'm the kind of person who would joke around?"

Xiao Jingyuan fell silent. Xie Qinglan was indeed not a person who would joke—at least not on the surface.

He sat on the couch, hesitating for a long time. Reason told him that this was suspicious, but emotion told him that Xie Qinglan would not lie. Finally, he gritted his teeth and said, "I understand. A ruler's word is law."

Xie Qinglan nodded in satisfaction, then pointed outside the door: "Also, His Majesty kicked down the gate of Tingxue Pavilion when he came in last night."

Xiao Jingyuan was so ashamed he was numb.

He rubbed his throbbing temples, looking weak and listless: "I'll have the Imperial Household Department come and fix it right away."

He threw back the brocade quilt and stood up, straightening his wrinkled dragon robe and gathering his disheveled hair, trying his best to regain some of his imperial majesty.

But the more he tried to fix it, the more messy it became. His clothes were crooked and he couldn't get his hair up no matter what he did, so he finally gave up.

"I still have a pile of memorials to review in my study." He didn't dare look Xie Qinglan in the eye, and walked towards the door with his head down, his voice muffled. "What happened last night... let's pretend it never happened. No one is allowed to mention it."

Xie Qinglan looked at his feigned composure but actually panicked state and gave a faint smile: "Well, Your Majesty, take care. I won't see you off."

Xiao Jingyuan took three steps at a time, almost escaping to the door.

All he wanted to do now was leave this place as soon as possible, return to the Imperial Study, bury himself in piles of memorials, and temporarily forget the embarrassing things he had done last night.

But just as he reached the door, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The morning light slanted in through the cracks in the window, falling on the white porcelain vase on the windowsill. The vase was simple and elegant, with a warm, lustrous glaze, and inside was a sprig of crabapple blossom.

The petals were withered, their edges turning a yellowish-brown, and the leaves were curled at the edges, clearly indicating that it had been separated from the branch for a long time. Yet, it was being carefully kept in clear water, the water in the bottle so clear that it was obviously changed every day.

Xiao Jingyuan's pupils suddenly contracted.

He knew this crabapple tree all too well—he had secretly climbed over the wall at night and placed it on the windowsill not long ago.

He assumed that the flower would be thrown into the trash can as soon as it was light. He even thought that Xie Qinglan wouldn't even give it a second glance.

But it didn't.

It was collected, placed in the cleanest porcelain vase, the water was changed, and it was cared for every day until now.

Xiao Jingyuan turned around abruptly. Xie Qinglan was still sitting at the table, holding a cup of tea. The morning light bathed him, turning his moon-white brocade robe into a pale gold. He was looking down at an old book, his profile in the light showing less aloofness and more gentleness.

"Qinglan," he called out.

Xie Qinglan raised her eyes: "Hmm?"

"I...I don't remember what I said last night." He stood at the door, backlit, his expression unclear, his tone not gentle, but with an unprecedented seriousness. "But I think it must have been something I've kept in my heart for a long time, something I've always wanted to say but never dared to."

Xie Qinglan's fingers, which were turning the pages of the book, suddenly stopped.

After a long while, he gently turned a page of the book, his voice as faint as a breeze, yet clearly reaching Xiao Jingyuan's ears.

"understood."

Xiao Jingyuan stood there, looking at Xie Qinglan's profile. His Adam's apple bobbed twice, the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat, but he swallowed them back. He gave Xie Qinglan a deep look, turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out.

The footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Xie Qinglan didn't move, remaining seated at the table, her fingertips still lingering on the page she had just turned.

He subconsciously raised his hand and gently touched his lips with his fingertips.

The warmth of last night still lingered there, carrying the scent of alcohol and the sweet fragrance of crabapple blossoms, making his fingertips tingle slightly from the heat.

When that person kissed him last night while crying, the words he kept repeating were never "I'm sorry".

It is "Qinglan, I miss you so much".

Again and again, with a sob in his voice and with despair, it was like a needle piercing the softest part of his heart.

The crabapple trees outside the window rustled, and the south wind swept through the courtyard, carrying the fragrance of flowers and ruffling a strand of hair at his temple.

He looked up towards the palace gate, his gaze so tender it could melt hearts.

"Me too."

Only the wind overheard this sentence.