A wave of nausea washed over her.

Fortunately, Wei Yan didn’t speak for long.  His gaze lingered on Liang Ying’s leg for a moment before he suddenly said, “Liu Fu, get the sedan chair.”

According to Liang Ying’s status, riding a sedan chair in the palace was inappropriate.  Just as she was about to refuse, she heard Liu Fu’s affirmative response, and servants were already preparing it; no one dared to object.

So, she didn’t speak.

A silence fell over the scene, broken only by the whistling wind. Liang Ying’s ears turned red from the cold.  From the corner of her eye, she saw the figure in yellow embroidered with dragon and serpent patterns take a half-step closer.

A small half-step, then he stopped.  Though her heart tightened, Liang Ying didn’t react further.

“Don’t worry about the doctor,” his voice and tone remained unchanged, only a barely perceptible tremor in his final syllable, perhaps due to the cold. “Just take good care of your body.”

Wei Yan was known as a benevolent ruler.

Now that the court was settled and he held absolute power, he wasn’t stingy with his compassion and apologies, seeking his own peace of mind.

Liang Ying didn’t react, only nodding.

Finally, Wei Yan left before the sedan chair arrived, and Liang Ying, along with the palace maids, curtsied to see him off.

As she straightened, her gaze inevitably fell upon Wei Yan’s back.

The man’s tall figure stood straight in the cold wind, his bright yellow dragon robe exuding majesty even from behind.

His palanquin was parked nearby. After Wei Yan boarded, the large procession headed towards the Empress’s palace.

It was vastly different from when he was a puppet emperor.

Liang Ying quickly averted her gaze.

After the palace servants brought the sedan chair, Liu Fu personally escorted her out of the palace. From the beginning until now, the only familiar face Liang Ying had seen among the palace servants was Liu Fu.

He was courteous to Liang Ying. At the palace gate, he respectfully asked, “Shall I have someone escort Madam home?”

Liang Ying shook her head and pointed.

Liu Fu followed her gaze. A carriage was parked nearby, but his gaze lingered more on the man beside it.

The man wore a simple black robe that looked slightly thin, yet he didn’t appear cold. His strong and sturdy build seemed to possess inexhaustible strength.  His face was handsome, but it held a fierce expression that made people hesitate to look directly at him.

The man was walking towards them.

Liu Fu recognized him. His smile froze for a moment, then quickly returned. “In that case, I’ll take my leave. Madam, please be careful on your way.”

Liu Fu left before Zhou Huailin approached, so they didn’t meet.

Liang Ying watched Zhou Huailin approach, her eyes questioning his presence.

She hadn’t come to the palace with Zhou Huailin.

Zhou Huailin had much to do in the capital after arriving: reporting to his superiors, socializing with acquaintances. Today, he had a drinking appointment with a cousin who served in the capital.

The man, now standing before her, didn’t answer immediately but bent down.

They had been married for almost five years. Liang Ying was familiar with this preparatory movement. During the season when her leg ached, Zhou Huailin often carried her to spare her the strain.

But this was at the palace gate…

While Liang Ying hesitated, Zhou Huailin skillfully scooped her up in his arms.

His embrace, though somewhat firm, brought a wordless sense of reassurance.  She didn’t resist, quietly letting him hold her.

“I finished early, so I came.”

Zhou Huailin finally answered her question. Unlike his refined name, his voice, like his appearance, was much more rugged.

The man was a man of few words, always concise.

As if to follow up, he softly asked, “Are you alright?”

Liang Ying looked up at him, meeting his deep gaze. He never wore the false smiles and pretenses of others, but now, she saw warmth and concern in his eyes.

She didn’t know if he meant her leg or her time in the palace, but Liang Ying’s nose suddenly felt sour. Perhaps the falling snow blurred her vision; her eyes began to water.  Before tears could fall, she buried her face in his chest.

She was different from her former self.

She would no longer allow herself to be trapped in endless pain and resentment. She could finally face these things and people calmly, facing the past hardships.

Leaving the palace calmly, she truly thought she was strong enough. But that strength crumbled when she saw Zhou Huailin, when he asked, “Are you alright?”

A deep ache welled up in her heart; Liang Ying knew it was resentment, but only for her former self. She clutched at Zhou Huailin’s chest, his strong heartbeat calming her.

She had been wrong. She wasn’t completely broken. The wounds in her heart had been healed by this man, allowing her present calm.

A servant lifted the carriage curtain, accustomed to seeing the husband carrying his wife.

The carriage was warm, lacking the heavy, sleep-inducing scent of the Phoenix Hall. Zhou Huailin didn’t put her down, holding her in his lap.

A hand warmer was placed beside them; he put it on Liang Ying’s leg, warming her aching limbs.

When his gaze fell on her, Liang Ying instinctively looked away, feeling her eyes must be red.

But the man merely tightened his arms. “In a couple of days, we’ll go home.”