The bright moon hangs high, beckoning him down from his pedestal.

For the next two weeks, Shen Wangxi forced himself to stop thinking about Qingyi Palace and the girl who dared to call him by his name.

He buried himself in government affairs, filling all his time with busyness. Occasionally, when his thoughts wandered, that delicate yet stubborn little face would appear in his mind, and he would immediately and roughly suppress it.

He told himself to ignore her and neglect her.

That evening, the imperial physician arrived tremblingly to report, "Your Majesty, Princess Qingruo has fallen ill at Qingyi Palace."

Shen Wangxi paused in his writing, without even raising his head, his voice cold and hard: "I am not a royal physician, what use is it to seek me out? Treat the patient however you see fit."

The imperial physician felt a chill run down his spine. He swallowed back the part about the princess's health, which he thought was on the verge of collapse, and quickly bowed, saying, "Your humble servant obeys the decree. Your humble servant takes his leave."

As he left the Taiji Hall, the Imperial Physician shook his head inwardly. It seemed that Princess Qingruo had completely lost the Emperor's favor and would likely pass away silently in the next few days.

As night deepened, Shen Wangxi finished reviewing the last memorial, put down his vermilion brush, and rubbed his throbbing temples.

Qingyi Palace has fallen ill again.

These words swirled uncontrollably in his mind.

Shen Wangxi recalled the last time she fell ill so quietly, and the imperial physician said it was because of excessive worry that she was dying.

And what was the imperial physician trying to say after his unfinished words today? Was he implying that she was unwell again?

But wasn't everything she did before just an act? All that grievance, that dependence, that admiration, even that serious illness—weren't they all just ways for her to gain pity?

Shen Wangxi tried to convince herself with this reason, but a voice in her heart was refuting it:

How could a frail woman like her deceive the imperial physicians time and time again? The pulse was unmistakable, and the weakness from the loss of life force was unmistakable.

Once this thought arises, it grows wildly like weeds.

What if it's true? What if she really can't make it this time?

The thought that she might die alone in Qingyi Palace, the thought of her last look at him, those sorrowful eyes…

Shen Wangxi's heart clenched suddenly, and a strange sense of panic came unexpectedly.

He suddenly stood up, pushed the door open forcefully, and the eunuch guarding outside the hall heard the noise and was about to ask what was going on, but he only saw a flash of black clothing and the figure had already darted out of the Taiji Hall like a ghost.

Shen Wangxi even forgot to send a palanquin or call for someone to follow her. Almost relying on instinct, she used her lightness skill and appeared in Qingyi Palace in just a few breaths.

He pushed open the door to the inner hall, and as if hearing the noise, Shen Qingruo opened her eyes with difficulty.

Eyes facing each other.

Shen Wangxi stood frozen in place, looking at her, his heart aching unbearably.

The girl on the couch seemed to have used all her strength to lift one small hand, which then fell limply to her sides.

Shen Wangxi quickly stepped forward, sat down on the edge of the couch, and grasped her hand. The coolness of her hand made his heart tighten again.

He put his arm behind her neck and carefully helped her up, letting her weak body lean against him.

Shen Qingruo wrapped her small arms around his waist, nestled softly into the man's embrace, and silently shed tears.

Then, Shen Wangxi heard a soft sob from her arms: "Shen Wangxi, this time, I think I'm really going to die."

"You'll never have to see Aruo, whom you hate, again."

Shen Wangxi felt as if something was stuck in his throat, and he hugged her thin shoulders, feeling somewhat sad.

How can someone be so fragile? He only said a few harsh words and ignored her for half a month, how could she not take it?

The little girl in his arms felt his strength, stirred in his embrace, and continued, choking back tears, "What I said that day wasn't entirely the truth."

"Once upon a time, you were the most noble king of the desert, an invincible hero."

"I've always been very proud to be part of your family."

"It's just a pity that you could spend more time with Aruo."

"And that day at the palace wall..." She shook her head gently, tears streaming down her face. "I really didn't know. I'm not lying to you."

Holding the frail and helpless person in his arms, Shen Wangxi felt nothing but overwhelming guilt.

He tightened his arms, his Adam's apple bobbed a few times, and finally, for the first time in his life, awkwardly apologized: "I'm sorry."

The body in her arms trembled slightly.

He continued, his voice hoarse: "Last time, I was too angry, I misunderstood you."

"Actually, I don't dislike you at all."

"I like your obedience, and I am happy to listen to you speak to me in a soft voice."

Hearing him say he liked her, the little girl who had been suppressing her sobs in his arms finally couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears in his arms, as if she wanted to release all her grievances.

Shen Wangxi held her tightly, a deep tenderness welling up in the place in his heart that had been hardened for decades.

-

In the following days, Shen Wangxi moved all the government affairs of Taiji Hall to the outer room of Qingyi Hall to handle them.

He stayed by her side without leaving for a moment. Inside the tent, Shen Qingruo had a recurring high fever, and her delicate little face was burning red.

Several times, her pulse was almost undetectable, which frightened the imperial physicians who were waiting for her, causing them to break out in a cold sweat and repeatedly beg for forgiveness.

Each time, Shen Wangxi silently held her slender wrist, his heart heavy, fearing that she might really be gone at any moment.

He often stayed by her side at night while she was unconscious, and he would mutter to himself in regret: "How can you be so fragile? You are not at all like a child raised in the desert. I just said a few words without thinking."

Fortunately, every time she faced imminent danger, she always managed to pull through at the last moment.

Five days later, Shen Qingruo's pulse stabilized, and she was finally out of danger.

Seeing the relieved expression on the imperial physician's face, Shen Wangxi felt a sudden release of tension in her own heart, which had been taut for days.

He looked at her lying there quietly, her face pale and her features delicate, and he couldn't help but reach out and brush away the stray hairs from her forehead.

"Finally, we made it through," he said softly, his tone filled with lingering fear and relief.

Shen Wangxi had lived a life of ruthless decisiveness, never showing mercy to anyone, let alone feeling remorse. Yet, whenever he looked at the girl on the bed, barely breathing, a strange emotion welled up in his heart, almost suffocating him.

After this experience, he realized just how delicate and fragile the girl in front of him was.

Shen Wangxi felt helpless but had no choice. He could only tell himself that he needed to be more careful in protecting her in the future.