The study fell silent for a moment.

The faint scent of ink lingered between the two, and the hexagonal jade-tassel lantern hanging from the eaves swayed gently in the breeze, making soft sounds that resembled the tinkling of shattered jade, occasionally drifting into the room.

Mei Heting held three sandalwood boxes, caught under Xuan Mingzhu’s gaze.

All three boxes were the same size—one foot long and three inches wide, carved with a simple yet elegant pattern of cypress wood.

Xuan Mingzhu had received seven such boxes in the past.

Every year on Qixi Festival, he would gift her one of these boxes filled with tokens of affection, a ritual that never wavered.

As a devoted man to his country, he had no time to indulge in romantic matters, always presenting her the same box, even wearing the same expression as he simply said two words: “For you.”

If there was any difference, it lay in the sentiments within the boxes—some were subtle, others eloquent, and occasionally there were bold, straightforward phrases that, when she stumbled upon them, would feel like the juice from a soup dumpling lightly scalding her heart, spreading warmth and igniting a fire.

Recalling those years filled with warmth, Xuan Mingzhu’s expression shifted from wariness to understanding, finally looking at Mei Heting with calmness.

“You speak of compensating for your guilt; perhaps I once cared about that, but it no longer matters.”

These past few days, she had taken the time to reflect.

What she had perceived as grievances were merely her cold assessment of the past after learning that her time was limited.

In retrospect, they were insignificant and suffocating.

Yet, tracing back to the root of it all, it was her own greed that had caused the trouble.

“Years ago, I insisted on having just one person for my entire life, ruining your promising path. I apologize for that.

“However, after our marriage, your many gestures of goodwill were never disputed. You enjoyed them and even promised not to betray me, so it cannot be said that I suffered unilaterally.

“Now, you and I have both returned to our respective lives, and we have cleared any debts or wrongs between us.”

As she spoke, there was no sorrow or resentment in her eyes, only a clarity and peace that filled her clear gaze.

With each word she uttered, Mei Heting felt his breath tighten.

She didn’t even claim to owe anything, showed no signs of grievance, and instead calmly apologized to him.

It was clear she had resolved to draw a line between them.

This was not the scene Mei Heting had anticipated.

“—Your Highness has done no wrong; it is my care for you that has been lacking.”

His voice remained steady, but his lips were pressed together in an anxious line, the stubble on his chin hinting at a struggle between action and inaction.

“Your Highness, please don’t say such things. Open the box and take a look.”

Seeing her remain silent, Mei Heting inhaled sharply, opening the first sandalwood box himself and presenting it before Xuan Mingzhu.

Inside lay a thickly bound volume of poetry. “This is the ‘Mingzhu Collection’ I compiled, which I intended to gift you on your birthday… I hope you won’t find it too late.”

Upon seeing the elegant writing on the saffron-yellow cover, Xuan Mingzhu recalled the book that had fallen into the basin that night and suddenly understood.

She shook her head slightly.

She had already seen enough of his literary talent over the years.

As a princess, she didn’t need to aim for top honors; the term “Mingzhu” should shine brightly in the mortal world, not be confined to the dullness of paper.

What use was this thing to her?

“This is the ‘Four Classics with Detailed Annotations’ by my mentor, Master Bai.”

Mei Heting promptly opened the second box, gazing into her eyes, seeking some sign of reversal.

His low voice struggled to maintain steadiness:

“I assure you, I will never read this book again in my life. Its fate is entirely up to you!”

Xuan Mingzhu remembered this book well; it was a rare artifact, the last work of the imperial tutor Bai Yang, not even cataloged in the palace archives.

She didn’t know how it ended up in Xing Yun’s hands, but on her wedding day, Xing Yun gifted it to her and Mei Heting.

The young girl of that age had gazed at her husband with both admiration and sorrow.

Xuan Mingzhu wasn’t naive; she knew very well Xing Yun’s feelings.

Thus, she felt displeased upon receiving the gift from Xing Yun, insisting that Mei Heting give it away or donate it to Chongwen Academy.

She just didn’t want it left in their residence where she could see it.

Because it was her mentor’s final possession, Mei Heting refused to part with it.

And as a newlywed, Xuan Mingzhu worried that each time he saw this book, he would think of his childhood sweetheart.

How could this talented scholar, who had excelled in the imperial exams, not understand?

Even a proud princess could feel anxiety that she couldn’t voice.

Due to her inability to articulate this inexplicable jealousy, she could only wear him down time and again.

Finally, she received his impatient retort, “Your Highness is truly naïve; why do you not understand the importance of respecting your mentor?”

As for the old relics from the past, Xuan Mingzhu had no idea where Mei Heting had dug them up from, but that buried thorn in her heart had already been pulled out by her.

Naturally, there was no need to contest with a dead book anymore.

Seeing her still as calm as a still pond, a flicker of panic crossed Mei Heting’s eyes.

His fingertips trembled imperceptibly as he pushed open the bronze clasp of the third sandalwood box.

“This land deed is for the Chengjing Garden in Jiangnan, a property under my family’s name.”

His initial fluster was fleeting, quickly replaced by an impeccable calm.

He clenched his fist, his tone becoming increasingly steady:

“This garden is comparable in size to the Jingu Garden. Of course, it can’t compare to the imperial gardens in the capital, but it boasts rich soil and water. Since Your Highness enjoys… peach blossoms, we shall plant only peach trees across its vast expanse.”

He gazed at her with slightly reddened eyes, “Is that acceptable?”

Words related to money and property, when spoken by a scholar of high repute, inevitably came out somewhat awkwardly.

As the legitimate grandson of the Mei family in Jiangnan, the properties recorded in Mei Heting’s name were not fewer than those of any hereditary duke’s heir in Luoyang.

The reason he hadn’t engaged in such matters before was not due to reluctance but rather the pride of a scholar who disdainfully rejected material pursuits to win affection.

What he once resolutely refused to do, he was now willing to undertake, to compensate Xuan Mingzhu for the grievances she had suffered over the years.

Xuan Mingzhu looked at him with an expression of detached regret.

“I’ve already said what I needed to say. You’re a smart person; you should understand. Don’t be so obstinate; it only harms yourself unnecessarily.”

She lightly patted his shoulder, smoothing the wrinkles in his sleeve.

“Mei Qing is a great talent destined to enter the cabinet, with a refined demeanor—please hold onto that.”

—”I see that Mei Qing is extraordinary in his youth; he may achieve great things in the future. May he never lose that demeanor.”

Years ago, during the palace examination when he was honored as the top scholar, Emperor Jinming had similarly patted his shoulder at the Qionglin banquet, personally smoothing out the wrinkles of his robe and expressing his high hopes.

The veins on Mei Heting’s temples throbbed painfully.

The actions and expressions of father and daughter overlapped perfectly in his mind.

He finally understood that today, Xuan Mingzhu stood in his study, not as his wife but as the princess.

What she had entrusted to him was no longer affection but rather aspirations for his career.

“If I don’t enter the cabinet, I can immediately decline Lord Di’s suggestion…”

Before he could finish his urgent declaration, a sharp pain suddenly struck his heart.

He instinctively took a few steps back, bracing himself against the edge of the desk, frowning as he took deep breaths.

Xuan Mingzhu didn’t notice his odd behavior; she simply found it somewhat amusing.

Did he dare to say he had never thought about being promoted to the three provinces and expanding his ambitions?

After years of never learning to speak sweetly, when the opportunity presented itself, he instead feigned deep feelings—who was he trying to impress?

As he wrestled with these thoughts, the tumultuous depths in Mei Heting’s eyes calmed, and his slender back straightened once more.

“I know Your Highness is angry, and I also understand that what you seek is not material compensation but my sincere intentions.”

His gaze steadied, regaining the composed determination he had cultivated.

The more difficult the situation, the calmer he became, making it harder for others to discern his thoughts and vulnerabilities.

With a solemn voice, he swore, “Whatever Your Highness desires, I would face a thousand deaths without hesitation.”

Whenever she saw such calm and profound eyes, Xuan Mingzhu felt that this man, known as the best young gentleman in Jiangnan, had a deep and unfathomable side.

Though he was her closest companion, she sometimes felt uneasy.

Yet today, she felt reassured; with his character, if he didn’t rise in the court, he would at least be safe.

If he was well, then Baoya’s future would naturally be secure.

“You’re asking me what I want?” Reflecting on little Baoya, a sense of relief spread across Xuan Mingzhu’s smile.

“Very simple. When Baoya reaches the age for marriage, you must promise me one thing: you need to respect her wishes without interference, and provide her with support. Should she ever have a change of heart, she must always have a place to return to.”

A pang of sadness suddenly struck Mei Heting.

His thoughts were caught on the words “return,” and he momentarily failed to realize why she entrusted this matter to him when she could easily oversee it herself.

Xuan Mingzhu thought for a moment and simply laid down three rules: “Second, Mei Yu is the legitimate heir and the eldest; this cannot change. No matter how many wives you take or children you have in the future, the Mei family lineage must be carried on by my first son, Mei Yu. If you were to disregard him due to blood ties, I would never agree.”

“The third point is even simpler.” Xuan Mingzhu smiled sweetly and casually said, “You can marry anyone in the future, except for Xing Yun.”

There was no reason for this.

In reality, one Xing Yun was insignificant; whether she was there or not, she absolutely would not have him.

But the thought of her disgusted her.

So what if she was domineering?

Even if she died, her subordinates would continue to enforce this, so she wasn’t worried about Mei Heting’s facade.

“Is this what Your Highness desires?”

After enduring for so long, Mei Heting couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“Has Your Highness lost so much faith in me, to think so little of me?”

Otherwise, after years of marriage, how could she bear to say that he would marry another and establish a new heir?

In the midst of the years, in the tender past, she didn’t even know what kind of person he was.

Anyone would do?

What did she take him for?

“Have you counted?” Xuan Mingzhu’s expression was as calm as a still lake.

Mei Heting was momentarily stunned by this seemingly nonsensical question.

Xuan Mingzhu lifted her beautiful phoenix eyes and said, “From the moment you entered until now, how many times have you called me ‘Your Highness,’ and how many times have you referred to yourself as a subject? Have you counted?”

“Millions call me ‘Your Highness,’ and you do the same; millions bow to me, and you do too.”

“I see you as unique, but you treat me like everyone else.”

“What more can be said?”

There was nothing more to say.

Xuan Mingzhu took out a delicate square red box from her sleeve and gently placed it on the treasure pavilion.

She had prepared a parting gift for him.

Everything that needed to be resolved was settled.

She wanted to be free of attachments, to live out her remaining time without any grudges or sorrow, and to meet her father and mother in peace.

Mei Heting recognized the small box but didn’t dare to think deeply about it, feeling the veins on the back of his hands throb with tension.

Xuan Mingzhu sincerely bowed to him, her smooth, jade-like forehead lowered, her double-corded hair ornaments trailing to the ground.

“In this fleeting life of seven years, we couldn’t support each other through thick and thin; I’ll forget you amidst the rivers and lakes.”

All the words bottled up inside were finally expressed, like clearing the muddy bottom of a lotus pond.

Flowers may bloom again, standing tall and clean; people can shed their pasts and feel light.

Having said all this, she paid no heed to how Mei Heting would react and walked straight out of the study.

Golden sunlight cascaded down from the eaves of the glazed tiles, illuminating her face as she raised a finger to shield her eyes.

The sunlight filtered through her translucent fingers, turning into a warm orange glow, as clear as jade.

She smiled carefreely, embodying a calmness that dispelled worldly concerns, yet retaining a carefree innocence like a young girl.

At that moment, Jiang Jin entered the courtyard and instantly noticed the expression on the princess’s face.

He thought to himself, indeed, the young master has his ways; in just a few words, he managed to make her smile!

Relieved, he approached her to pay his respects, cheerfully saying, “Your Highness, Madam Mei from Jiangnan has come to the capital! She is now at the gate.”

The “Madam” he referred to was Mei Heting’s mother, who usually lived in their old residence in Yangzhou.

It was surprising for her to come to the capital.

Xuan Mingzhu raised her brows, calculating the travel time.

It seemed she had set off ten days ago from Yangzhou.

At that time, news of her marital discord with Mei Heting had yet to reach the capital.

Surely, she hadn’t come for that reason?

Even if she had, it wouldn’t matter.

Now that she had arrived, her attitude toward the Mei family was solely tied to her roots with Baoya.

She could still maintain a facade, but the sincere kindness from before would no longer exist.

“What are Heng’er and Baoya doing right now?” she asked calmly. “Go tell them that their grandparents have arrived. They should welcome them at the main gate and not neglect proper etiquette.”

Just as she finished speaking, the heavy door of the study creaked open.

A lonely figure stood in the doorway, their gaze shadowed beneath the brow, obscured and unclear.

In this fleeting life.

Their seven years together were summed up in four understated words.

The red brocade box left in the study was the one they used to store the bridal gifts when they married, and it had always been treasured by Xuan Mingzhu.

Mei Heting didn’t dare to open it; it pressed against his chest, a reminder of his feelings.

Seeing the young master’s expression was unlike usual, contrasting sharply with the princess’s smile, Jiang Jin felt perplexed: why was the princess smiling while the young master seemed troubled?

Suddenly, he heard Mei Heting ask in a hoarse voice, “Why have my father and mother come?”

Jiang Jin replied, “The master didn’t come, only the madam has come. By the way,” he added cautiously, “she arrived in a carriage from the Prince of Shen’s residence, accompanied by the County Lord of Huai Ning.”

Upon hearing this, Mei Heting’s vacant gaze finally focused, instinctively looking at the delicate blue figure in front of him.

Xuan Mingzhu smiled nonchalantly, “Then we must go and greet them.”

The County Lord of Huai Ning was the adopted daughter of the Princess of Shen, recently given her title.