Rather than hedging, a bold gamble is preferable.

Zihua smiled and replied, “When the young lady was still the princess of Qi, she was cherished by both the king and the crown prince, and so inevitably grew a little spoiled, unaware of her own limits. That’s why, upon first meeting His Majesty, she rushed toward him like a moth to a flame. Being pushed away once, twice—even three times—she felt wounded, yet she never understood that the emperor was acting for her sake, that his rejection was, in its own way, a form of care. Still, she would not relent, chasing after him on her own terms. Eventually, she managed to marry him as she wished, but discovered he was an ambitious sovereign who brought ruin to the king of Qi, her own father. Despair consumed her, and she no longer wished to hold onto this love. When she felt she could bear no more, she sent for you.

From her perspective, the emperor killed her father and destroyed her homeland. She hates him. From the emperor’s view, he had planned to annex Qi from the start, never wavering because of her. He first rejected her, then accepted her, cherishing her in his own way. Can this truly be called his fault? After meeting the crown prince a few times lately, I’ve realized it’s simply a matter of perspective. For common folk, the one who brings them a better life is king—what does it matter whether his surname is Qi or Que?

It would be best if the young lady could let go of the past, but if not, there’s no forcing it. Likewise, the emperor has guarded her for so long; to continue is not easy, but even if he finally releases her, can he be called cold and heartless? He is not only the man she loves, but also the ruler of Que. He is not one to forsake his kingdom for beauty; his wisdom lies in caring for his people—a fact she should have understood when she first met him. If there is regret, it’s that the emperor saw clearly from the start, while she did not. With that in mind, if a chance arises, why not risk everything for one last gamble? If she wins, their future is bright; if she loses, it changes nothing.”

Yunqing listened in stunned silence, never expecting that in just over two years, Zihua’s outlook could shift so dramatically.

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“There’s nothing else to do. When His Majesty stayed away from Snowfall Palace, the palace maids and attendants all left, leaving me to care for the young lady and myself. With time, my mind wandered. The crown prince would visit occasionally, bringing us necessities. Seeing him well, I couldn’t help but see things from the emperor’s perspective.” Zihua extinguished the stove and poured the soup from the pot into a bowl.

Carrying the tray, Zihua walked outside and asked, “Would you like to come along, Lady Mingyue?”

“I’ll follow quietly. If the soldiers see me, trouble might arise. I’ll explain later how I can become invisible.”

Zihua shook her head and smiled, “It’s all right. Ever since I learned you could craft the Longing Charm, I knew you weren’t ordinary.”

Zihua took the tray to the courtyard where Chuxue and the emperor resided, and together with the emperor, gently fed the soup to Chuxue.

Watching Chuxue rest docilely and quietly in the emperor’s arms, Yunqing recalled Zihua’s words. Indeed, Chuxue had been too naive at the start, not realizing that a man like the emperor was a born ruler, destined always to place his empire above all else.

Zihua tidied the dishes and withdrew, careful not to disturb the emperor as he worked through his memorials.

Yunqing followed her outside, waiting until no one was around before revealing herself. “You don’t attend them all the time?”

“The emperor prefers solitude; unless needed, he doesn’t permit attendants,” Zihua replied.

Yunqing nodded, and for the next few days, followed Zihua, only delivering meals at the appointed times and otherwise keeping her distance. Within the palace, the emperor’s memorials were delivered each morning by his secret guards and returned, processed, by evening.

From Zihua’s accounts, Yunqing gradually learned of the hardships she and Chuxue had faced these past years. An exiled princess, bereft of the emperor’s favor, naturally found palace life difficult. Fortunately, the former crown prince of Qi visited regularly, bringing necessities and easing their burdens. During her days at the Heavenly Kingdom Temple, Yunqing encountered the prince once.

It was near midday, with Yunqing concealed as she and Zihua brought lunch to the emperor and Chuxue. That day, the emperor had arranged a simple hairstyle for Chuxue, evoking a trace of her former innocence. The initial surprise of seeing him braid a woman’s hair had faded; Yunqing was no longer so easily startled.

After Zihua laid out the meal, Yunqing noticed a man approaching from afar. His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him until Zihua saluted, making it clear.

The man paid his respects to the emperor, then joined him at the table. Zihua, though intending to withdraw, was detained and continued to serve.

Yunqing watched the scene, touched by its warmth, and the thoughts she’d had earlier grew stronger. Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded in her ear, “The fates of the emperor and Chuxue are not bound by destiny; if you intervene, it won’t violate the will of Heaven, so long as you don’t go too far.”

Yunqing instinctively stepped back, fixing a cold gaze on Fei Ling. “You seem quite at leisure, Your Highness. Is there nothing for you to do in the Hall of Fleeting Life?”

“I’ve already sent people to search for the Soul Lamp. If there’s news, I’ll inform you.”

Yunqing laughed, her tone edged with irony. “You’re quite capable. Now that I know, might you finally leave?”

Fei Ling opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, only casting a deep look at Chuxue and the emperor before turning away.

Once Fei Ling’s presence had faded, Yunqing returned to her spot. She glanced at the pair, trusting Fei Ling’s words, yet hesitating to act. She smiled at herself, self-mocking—how ironic, that even now she believed him.

When she came to, Zihua was gone, and Chuxue’s brother had also withdrawn, leaving only the emperor and Chuxue. The emperor held a memorial in one hand and with the other gently smoothed Chuxue’s hair. As before, his movements were gentle, his gaze cold and unwavering.

She couldn’t tell how much the emperor was still affected by the Longing Charm. If she awakened Chuxue and he remained indifferent, what then? Though she had the power to intervene, altering fate was a grave matter; she dared not act too recklessly. If she changed Chuxue’s fate, she could not touch the emperor’s; if she lifted the emperor’s enchantment, she could not affect Chuxue’s. How was she to choose?

Before Yunqing could decide, the emperor departed for the palace.

That night, he stayed in his study, giving Yunqing her first chance to be alone with Chuxue and Zihua. While Zihua tended to Chuxue, Yunqing asked, “If I could let Chuxue forget the past and wake, I can’t guarantee the emperor will still be bound by the Longing Charm. Would you still be willing?”

Zihua was taken aback, then smiled. “I am not the one concerned—I have no place to say what I wish or not. If Lady Mingyue says this, surely she already holds a decision in her heart.”

“But I still hesitate… This chance comes only once, and whatever I do, I disregard their wishes. My own guilt is secondary; I fear that, in the end, they’ll remain as ill-fated lovers.”

Zihua gave a gentle smile, turned to leave, then returned with tea. “I’ve told you before: if a chance arises, why not gamble? If the young lady wins, she will live in happiness; if she loses, nothing changes. Still, if I say so, am I not anxious as well? People are greedy—wanting better, yet fearing their actions will worsen matters; thus, they shrink back. Most waste their years in such hesitation, and few act. Now our young lady hides away, unwilling to face reality. My hope is, if she could forget the past and live well with His Majesty for a time, then recall it at a suitable moment, the choice would finally be hers. But such ideal circumstances do not exist in this world.”

“…That is true, but perhaps I can fulfill your wish after all.”

After a moment’s silence, Yunqing spoke, earning a surprised glance from Zihua.