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

Before setting off, I made a special inquiry about the Emperor of Beishuo, and my elder brother told me a lot about it.

He was said to be a valiant young man who, at the age of fifteen, led three thousand light cavalry across the heart of the Western Rong territory and beheaded the enemy chieftain on the battlefield; he was said to have ascended the throne at the age of eighteen, and was decisive in his killings and ruled the country with an iron fist, making the Northern Shuo a unified entity; he was said to be extremely handsome, a rare beauty in the world.

Perhaps the person destined for me is not in the Southern Mountain, but in the Northern Mountain.

Perhaps I married someone from afar just to meet him.

With this faint hope in my heart, I embarked on the journey of marriage alliance.

My first impression of the Golden Palace was profound.

The court officials lined up on both sides. I wore a bright red wedding dress and a nine-phoenix crown. I walked step by step across the vermilion carpet and into that magnificent palace.

The gold bricks were cold and hard, and a vermilion carpet stretched all the way to the bottom of the jade steps. On both sides, warriors each had a curved sword hanging at their waist, exuding a chilling aura of killing intent.

Deep within the main hall, atop the nine jade steps, sat a figure in black.

I looked up and saw him immediately.

His black dragon robe was embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon in gold thread, which accentuated his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and upright posture. His features were cold and sharp, with sword-like eyebrows that slanted upwards into his temples, and his pupils were a pale color, like the surface of a frozen lake in winter.

He sat there, his imperial aura overwhelming, and the entire hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My heart was pounding, and my cheeks were burning.

I think the rumors were true after all.

I secretly rejoiced, rejoiced that I had agreed to the marriage alliance, and rejoiced that I could marry such a person.

I knelt down respectfully, performing the three kneelings and nine kowtows ceremony. My voice was so gentle it surprised even myself: "Princess Pei Yuning of Anping, Nanyue, pays her respects to Your Majesty."

He said, "Rise."

Just two words, so indifferent that not a trace of emotion could be heard, like ice beads falling onto a jade plate.

On the night he was conferred the title of imperial concubine, he did not come to Chang Le Palace.

I sat on the wedding bed, not daring to remove my veil, waiting all night. The candles burned out, and the sky began to lighten with the first light of dawn, but there was still no sound of footsteps outside the hall.

I comforted myself, saying it's okay, there's plenty of time.

I'm sure I can make him like me.

It definitely can.

But later I realized that I couldn't even see his face.

He went to the Imperial Study to request an audience, but was stopped at the door by the eunuchs; he went to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to wait, but was also turned away.

I sent a palace maid with osmanthus cakes, saying that I had made them myself and that Your Majesty should try them. The maid returned only saying, "His Majesty asked me to take them back," and then nothing more.

Osmanthus cakes were steamed pot after pot, served steaming hot, and returned cold and hard.

One time, unable to resist any longer, she timed the end of court and waited for him outside the Xuanzheng Hall.

As he walked out, his black dragon robe swept across the white marble steps, creating a gust of wind.

I greeted him with a smile and said softly, "Your Majesty, you've worked hard. I've prepared some ginseng soup. Would Your Majesty like to move to Chang Le Palace for a while?"

He glanced at me.

That glance was as cold as ice, it swept across my face without lingering for even a moment.

"No need."

He left with just two words and strode away.

He didn't even glance at me once from beginning to end.

I stood on the palace path, holding the bowl of ginseng soup, for a long time. So long that the soup had gone cold, so long that the palace maid beside me cautiously called out, "Your Highness, may you return now?"

I smiled and handed him the ginseng soup: "Pour it out."

The moment I turned around, tears still fell.

I'm not usually a crybaby. During the year I spent in the cold palace, I was shivering from the cold, dizzy from hunger, and beaten until I was covered in bruises. Gradually, I stopped crying so much.

But at that moment, looking at this magnificent and empty palace, I suddenly felt that I was nothing more than a decoration from beginning to end.

A superfluous facade used to maintain diplomatic relations between the two countries.

The real shock came later when he heard that Xie Qinglan had been imprisoned in the palace by the emperor.

It's him again! It's Xie Qinglan again!

I fled all the way to Beishuo, thinking I could escape his shadow, but he still haunts me! Even the emperor of Beishuo has his heart set on him!

My elder brother instructed me that if the assassins on the road failed to eliminate Xie Qinglan, I could secretly activate the "Entangling Silk" technique to take his life.

I did not want it to be this way.

But now I can't take it anymore.

Following my elder brother's instructions, I devised a plan to trigger the "Entangling Silk" within him. I thought he was doomed this time, but he was incredibly lucky and was miraculously saved.

He was completely imprisoned in Tingxuexuan, and I couldn't get close to him. I could only spend money to bribe the palace servants who delivered his meals, so that they would say things like "Consort Ning is favored" or "His Majesty often visits Changle Palace."

I know he's someone who can't tolerate even the slightest imperfection.

I want to disgust him. If I'm not having a good time, he shouldn't be either. I absolutely cannot let them be together smoothly.

As I expected, Xie Qinglan, with her proud and aloof nature, could not bear the humiliation of imprisonment and committed suicide by cutting her wrists.

The night I heard the news, I was so happy that I couldn't sleep all night.

I think he's finally dead. There will never be another Xie Qinglan in this world.

But fate had other plans, and he was rescued again. After this incident, the emperor became even more attentive to him, sending him a constant stream of treasures to Tingxuexuan, and even personally came to Changle Palace to order me to visit and comfort him.

During that visit, Xie Qinglan slapped me hard. It was the first time he had ever hit me, and I knew he had already condemned me in his heart.

The emperor's second visit to Chang Le Palace was not to see my injuries, but to inquire about Xie Qinglan's preferences.

He sat across from me and asked me what Xie Qinglan liked to eat and what her preferences were. His tone was unusually gentle, but he was asking about someone else entirely.

At that moment, the scene under the crabapple tree many years ago suddenly overlapped with my own.

Shen Yizhi did the same, smiling as he handed me the brocade box and asked if I could ask for a letter of thanks on his behalf.

It turns out that, in the end, I'm always the one delivering the message, always just a tool for others to get close to Xie Qinglan.

Years of pent-up jealousy and hatred completely overwhelmed reason at that moment.

On what grounds?

Why must I live in his shadow for the rest of my life? It was like this in Nanyue, and it's still like this in Beishuo. Why does everyone only have eyes for him? Why can't I get even a shred of sincerity in return for my heartfelt sincerity?

I want him dead.

He must die.

You all know what happened next.

I tried every possible way to get rid of him, but failed each time, only ending up in a sorry state. In the end, he fed me seven days of intoxication, beat me severely, and threw me into the cold palace by Xiao Jingyuan.

The cold palace in Beishuo is even colder than that in Nanyue.

There was no charcoal fire, no thick blankets, and the window paper was torn beyond recognition, letting the cold wind howl into the room. I huddled in the corner, wrapped my only tattered coat tightly around myself, shivering from the cold.

Just like when I was five years old.

Xie Qinglan saved me last time.

But this time, no one came to save me.

How did I end up like this?

Was it the machinations of my uncles and relatives? Was it Shen Yizhi who trampled on my feelings? Was it Xiao Jingyuan who wouldn't even spare a glance?

Both are. And neither are.

Ultimately, it's myself.

I envy Xie Qinglan. I envy that he is admired by everyone, that even as a prisoner he is still the peerless Xie Qinglan, that he can make the emperor of Beishuo fall head over heels for him without doing anything, while I try my best but can't even get a proper look from him.

Jealousy had already taken root and grown into hatred.

In the end, hatred turned into nothing but murderous intent.

When the Seven-Day Intoxication flared up, it was worse than death. It felt like a million ants were crawling into the cracks of my bones, gnawing at me bit by bit, making me writhe on the ground in agony. I bit my lips raw, but dared not make a sound—I was afraid the shadow guards would hear me, afraid they would laugh at me.

I endured the ordeal biting the blanket, feeling utterly miserable. Eventually, I didn't even know if I would see the sun rise tomorrow.

Just when I was about to give up, someone came to the window of the Cold Palace.

He was wearing a black cloak, with the hood covering most of his face. By the dim candlelight, I could still recognize his outline—I had seen him before at the wedding banquet.

My heart skipped a beat; I thought he was there to kill me.

But he simply pulled a letter from his sleeve, shoved it into my hand, and said in a low voice, "Your Highness, His Majesty has decreed that you wait for the right opportunity; he will arrange for your escape."

My hands trembled as I unfolded the letter. It was my elder brother's handwriting. I knew that handwriting all too well. When we were little, I would sit by the table and watch him practice calligraphy. Every stroke was taught to me by my brother Qinglan.

The letter said he knew of my situation and was heartbroken. He had already sent a proclamation to Beishuo demanding my release, but Xiao Jingyuan refused to let me go. He assured me that he would take me home and that I should follow the messenger's instructions and remain calm.

I held the letter, tears streaming down my face.

My brother hasn't abandoned me. He still remembers me, and he still wants me.

That letter became my only hope. I held it and waited and waited, for a month, during which I suffered three or four bouts of poisoning, until I almost thought it was all just a dream.

Finally, the time has come.

That night, I received instructions to overturn the candlesticks in the middle of the night, causing flames to shoot into the sky and thick smoke to billow. Taking advantage of the chaos, someone pried open the door lock, pulled me through a secret passage, and escaped through a side gate of the palace.

I boarded the carriage and headed south.

The carriage rumbled on and on. I lifted the curtain and peered out, and it seemed I could already see the palace walls of Mount Heng and the crabapple trees of Huayang Palace. I thought, "It's good to be home. Everything will be alright when I'm home. I can be Princess Anping again."

The carriage left the city and traveled for about ten miles before suddenly stopping.

I lifted the curtain and went out, but before I could even stand still, several men in black surrounded me, their long swords gleaming coldly.

"Who are you?" I forced myself to remain calm, adopting the airs of a princess. "I am Princess Nanyue, how dare you—"

Before I could finish speaking, a sword pierced straight into my chest.

The cold, sharp blade pierced through the skin and flesh, and a dull pain exploded along the blood vessels, a hundred times more painful than when the Seven Days' Intoxication took effect.

I tried to scream, but only a gurgling sound came from my throat. Blood gushed from my mouth, its metallic taste clogging my breath.

I looked down at the sword in my chest, watching the blood trickle down the blade, and only one thought occupied my mind—

My elder brother lied to me.

That's hilarious.

I didn't die at Xie Qinglan's hands, nor in the cold palace of Beishuo, but in the end, I died by the sword of my own brother.

I collapsed to the ground, my consciousness beginning to fade.

Just then, a figure in moon-white robes darted out from the darkness, sword light as cold as frost, and in just a few moves, the men in black fell to the ground.

It was him. Xie Qinglan.

He was still as dazzling as ever. Moonlight fell on his face, illuminating his cool, aloof features and slightly furrowed brows. He was always like this, clean and upright, like a jade tree standing tall in the wind, no matter when or where.

I suddenly wondered, why did this person have to be born so perfect? ​​If he weren't so perfect, so perfect that everyone saw him as the bright moon, perhaps I wouldn't have ended up this way.

If he hadn't become all-powerful at sixteen, elevating me to the highest level, I wouldn't have tasted the sweetness of power and developed those inappropriate delusions; if he were an ordinary person, a fool, someone who makes mistakes and gets embarrassed, perhaps I wouldn't be so jealous of him or hate him.

But he happens to be Xie Qinglan.

Xie Qinglan is someone I can never catch up with, someone I can never compare to.

Before I could even process my grief, he spoke, his voice still calm, yet every word pierced my heart.

He said I had always been a pawn of the Emperor, that the Emperor had never thought of saving me, and that my death here would provide a convenient excuse for Nanyue to send troops.

I'm not unaware of these things; I'm just deceiving myself.

He didn't come to save me. He said all this not out of pity, but to get information out of me, to find out who else was behind it all.

I know. But I still did as he wished.

Perhaps it was because when he heard me cry out in pain, he drew his sword without the slightest hesitation—quickly and decisively, without letting me suffer for even a second longer.

That at least gave me some dignity.

I used my last ounce of strength to say that name, to let him know, to make them fight, to fight until they are both badly injured and die together, so that neither of them would get away unscathed.

He opened his mouth, but only managed to squeeze out a muffled, breathy sound: "Its..."

I don't know if he understood.

Hopefully he understood.

I, Pei Yuning, have never been a good person. Only I know the darkness, filth, jealousy, and resentment in my heart.

The vision gradually dimmed.

A breeze blew past my ears, carrying the coolness of the night dew and the fragrance of grass and trees.

It's very light and soft.

Like many years ago, when he first picked me up and walked out of the cold palace, the wind brushed against my cheek.

It turns out that after a lifetime, I've returned to that snowy winter, and I'm still that little girl huddled in the corner, waiting for someone to rescue me.

This time, however, no one opened the door and reached out their hand to me.