After winding through twists and turns

Zhang Yu's kiss abruptly halted on her pale shoulder. He propped himself up with one hand, while she stared blankly at the ceiling with her clear, dark eyes; her gaze was vacant, unable to reflect his image. A trace of curiosity flickered in Zhang Yu's eyes, his deep, sinister voice sounded by her ear, "Why don't you resist?"

Ye Qianran continued to gaze at the ceiling, her voice faint and powerless. "If I resist, you won't let me go anyway. I don't want to do something futile."

Zhang Yu's jet-black pupils were suddenly shaken. He looked at the woman beneath him, her face devoid of any color, only her lips bitten crimson, a striking mark that caught the eye. Suddenly, he recalled another woman. That day, she too lay on his bed, her voice slowly piercing his eardrums, "If you love me, I would choose to resist. Otherwise, it's all in vain. So, tell me, do you love me?"

Zhang Yu abruptly rolled off her, stood up, and adjusted his clothes. Ye Qianran sat up in a daze, tugging at her garments, her hollow gaze fixed on him. He leaned down, looking at her snow-white face, the faintest hint of a smile curling his lips, "You really are like her. Last time, I didn't let her go, but this time, I've decided to spare you. Perhaps, we'll meet again in the future."

"Go," he said, rising and looking down at her.

Ye Qianran raised her head and looked at him calmly, as if she couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Zhang Yu arched an amused eyebrow, "What, don't want to leave?"

Ye Qianran shivered, instantly jumped up, tidied her hair and clothes, and, under his gaze, opened the door and rushed out.

Zhang Yu watched her retreating figure, wiped the corner of his mouth, his face expressionless. "Qingcheng, you were right. I didn't love you. So after I got you, I ended up losing you. But tell me, isn't it ridiculous that just because she said something similar to you, I let her go?"

The wind blew through the window, rustling softly. Zhang Yu stepped across the threshold in his embroidered boots, a faint yellow dawn rising at the horizon.

Ye Qianran ran desperately, fearful he might change his mind. She only wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible. Moments ago, she had feigned composure, but now her heart was filled with terror and dread; her legs were weak, as if she might collapse at any moment. As she ran, she collided headlong into someone's arms. She struggled to rise, but a familiar voice sounded above her, "Finally found you. Why the rush?"

The moment Ye Qianran heard Zhuge Qingfeng's voice, the last bit of strength sustaining her dissipated like smoke. She collapsed into his embrace.

"What, being chased by enemies?" He half-supported her, half-held her, joking as he looked down to see her pale, crystalline face, her body as if unable to stand, her clothes slightly disheveled. His expression grew tense, his grip tightened, his voice low and gentle, "What's wrong?"

"Take me away, Qingfeng, take me away from here." She clutched his sleeve tightly, pleading as she looked at him, her face bloodless.

He gazed at her steadily, his expression unreadable. He lowered his head and asked, "Can you still walk?" She nodded. He gripped her hand and supported her as they walked away.

Zhuge Qingfeng led her out the back gate of the Duke of Wei's mansion, helped her onto a carriage, and sent word to Ye An that he was taking her home first, assuring him she was safe. He also dispatched someone to notify Liuyun, saying he would return ahead.

Inside the carriage, Ye Qianran stared down at her white silk shoes, unmoving. Zhuge Qingfeng wanted to speak, but held back. Ye Qianran's voice was devoid of any emotion, low and monotone. "Do you know what I was thinking just now?"

Zhuge Qingfeng looked at her pale profile and asked, "What were you thinking?"

A teardrop the size of a bean slid from her eyes, landing on the back of her hand. Ye Qianran frowned tightly, her heart gripped with pain she couldn't ease. Her voice grew deep and hoarse, "Why do I like him so much? Why doesn't he like me?"

Zhuge Qingfeng's back stiffened; his outstretched hand paused in midair. After a long silence, he finally spoke, softly and gently, afraid to frighten her, "Qianran, what's wrong?"

Larger tears slid silently from her eyes, no sobs, only slender, pale fingers pressed tightly to her chest. Her body slowly sank, crouching in the carriage, striving for control. "After I escaped, the only person I wanted to see was him. I felt like if I didn't see him, I would die right away. But... but he doesn't like me, doesn't want to see me. I wanted so much to see him, but he has no idea. Thinking of that, I can't breathe. My heart feels torn apart, but I still miss him. Qingfeng, I miss him so much..."

At last, she could say no more. The tears that slid down her face stung like burning sunlight, hurting Qingfeng's eyes. He crouched down and embraced her, gently patting her back. "Let me help you. If you want to see him, I'll always help you from now on."

The sun gradually sank, the evening glow staining the sky with splendid hues, like the color on the robes of a bewitching woman. The sky slowly darkened, birds returned to their nests, the evening drums and bells echoed, filling the capital with a hollow resonance.

Supported by Juan Bilu Lan, Ye Qianran entered the mansion slowly. Zhuge Qingfeng watched her until she was out of sight; her slender, frail figure seemed so small, yet as if it possessed infinite power to tug at one's heart.

That night, Ye Qianran lay in bed. It was nearly midnight, but she was still awake. After tossing and turning, she finally lifted the light gauze canopy, casually grabbed a peach-pink cloak, and stepped out of her room. Though she opened the door quietly, it still creaked in the silent night. A gust of night wind fluttered her cloak in the darkness. She pulled it tighter, sat on the stone steps before the corridor, the cold from the ground seeping through her body.

A new moon hung in the dark sky; the wind stirred the phoenix trees, their shadows dancing, leaves rustling. Ye Qianran hugged her knees, resting her chin atop them, her dark eyes wide open. Thoughts of the day's events flashed in her mind; now she felt frightened. Why hadn't she resisted at the time? Perhaps, deep down, she hadn't believed her fate would end that way. Even in her darkest despair, she still harbored a sliver of hope. In the end, she had survived. She hadn't told anyone about what happened except Zhuge Qingfeng. It seemed that every time she was at her lowest, he was always by her side. Like a brother, but even more caring. Yet... in that fleeting moment, she wished so desperately that he was Liuyun, not Qingfeng.

Hope remains hope; not everyone finds fulfillment.

A shadow flitted past ahead, vanished into the bamboo grove, shaking the leaves with a rustling sound. Ye Qianran instinctively stood up, "Who is it?" Her voice drifted into the night, but no one answered.

Ye Qianran tightened her cloak, wrapped herself against the chill, and cautiously moved toward the bamboo grove.

"Miss?" A surprised voice sounded behind her.

Ye Qianran was tense, her thoughts focused, and the sudden voice made her whirl around, startling the speaker.

Asheng stood behind her, holding a lantern. Ye Qianran, seeing it was him, breathed a sigh of relief. She asked, "Asheng, what are you doing here so late?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out for a walk. Passing by, I saw you alone and thought I'd check. Are you looking for something, Miss?" Asheng stared at her with big, clear eyes.

"Asheng, did you see a shadow just now?" Ye Qianran peered into the bamboo grove.

"I only saw you standing here, didn't see anyone else." Asheng held the lantern in one hand, scratched his head with the other, as if thinking seriously.

Ye Qianran withdrew her gaze from the bamboo grove and looked at Asheng, still so youthful. She smiled, "Maybe I saw wrong. It's late, you should get some sleep."

Asheng nodded obediently, his gaze sincere and harmless. He smiled, "The night is deep and the dew is heavy. Miss, you should rest too. I'll wait until you go inside before I leave."

Ye Qianran smiled and returned to her room.

Not until Asheng saw her enter the room did the smile fade from his eyes and brows, replaced in an instant by a mature steadiness beyond his years. He glanced at the bamboo grove, his voice barely audible yet carrying a commanding tone, "You can come out now."

From the grove emerged a man dressed in black night attire, head bowed as he followed Asheng.

Moonlight shone on Asheng; even in simple servant's clothes, he exuded a certain sharpness.

The two slipped silently into Asheng's room. The servant's quarters were always simple, with only a bed, an old rosewood table and chairs, and a few scattered teacups.

Asheng sat down, and the man in black lowered his mask, revealing a sharply defined face, his gaze deep and shadowed. He knelt with a thud, his voice low and emotionless, "I deserve punishment. Please forgive me, Young Master."

Asheng's lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes darkening. "You certainly deserve it. As the leader of Cold Night, to be discovered while climbing a wall—dying ten thousand times wouldn't be enough."

The man's head bowed lower, his cold eyes unmoved. "I was careless for a moment. Please forgive me, Young Master."

After a long silence, Asheng sighed softly. "I'll keep a record of this. With the court about to cut the fiefs, we're at a critical juncture. I hope you've learned your lesson—do not repeat your mistake."

"Yes," came the emotionless reply.

"How goes the matter I asked you to investigate?" Asheng's cold voice sounded above him.

"Reporting to Young Master, according to our spies, Zhang Yuan seems intent on currying favor with the Minister of Personnel and is seeking an alliance with the Minister's family."

"Oh?" Asheng raised an eyebrow. "Zhang Yuan's son and daughter are both married. How could there be talk of a marriage alliance?"

"Young Master, Zhang Yuan's cousin has a son who is unmarried this year and is currently staying at the Duke of Wei's mansion."

Asheng snorted, "He's using any means necessary to win people over." He paused, "How has the Minister's family responded?"

"Meng Jiang's attitude is unclear; he hasn't given any indication."

A cold smile touched Asheng's lips. "Tell Zhang Jing to propose marriage first. Even if Meng Jiang has no intention of marrying into Zhang Jing's family, out of respect for him, he won't agree to Zhang Yuan."

The man in black turned and disappeared swiftly into the night.

Only Asheng remained in the room, his face bearing a maturity beyond his age. He stood at the window, gazing at the high-hanging moon, his heart filled with emotion. "Father, can these schemes I've devised in the capital really help you? I hope all goes well for you in the southwest. Your son awaits the day you achieve glory."

Lying in bed, Asheng couldn't sleep. He was used to following his father into the blood and thunder of war. His father had secretly sent him to the capital to monitor every move in the court, but he found it hard to adjust—often suffering from insomnia. In the deep quiet of night, he longed for the days of galloping across battlefields on horseback, his happiest times. But he was his father's eldest son, his younger brothers still too young, so he had to remain in the capital. It was all a matter of necessity. All he wished was for his father to bring him back as soon as possible.