Just then.
From outside, a low sobbing sound suddenly drifted in.
It sounded somewhat familiar—could it be... Jiang Zhiyu's voice?!
Chai Xiaomi, full of confusion, turned and crawled toward the window. As soon as she poked her head out, a chill ran over her shoulder—her clothes slipped down.
After all the earlier commotion, the collar had already loosened; with this movement, it slid off one shoulder, and under the moonlight, her fair shoulder was completely exposed.
The next second, a pair of hands reached from behind, firmly grabbed her collar, and yanked it up quickly.
Chai Xiaomi turned her head to see Wu Li, his face dark, focusing on fixing her clothes. His movements were fast and meticulous, as if wolves and tigers were lurking outside, desperate to keep her from being seen.
He tightened her collar, not even bothering to glance out the window, and said in a chilly tone, "Tsk. A seven-foot man, putting on a show late at night, crying more than a village widow. First time I’ve seen a man weep—I’d be embarrassed for him."
Chai Xiaomi pouted.
If she hadn’t seen the man beside her with red-rimmed eyes herself, she might have believed his arrogant rant.
"Lili," she whispered, "let me ask you—if I left you behind, would you cry?"
Wu Li’s hands suddenly stopped.
He looked up and met her clear black-and-white eyes. Before he could speak, he realized there was deeper meaning to the question. His gaze shifted past her to the window.
Only then did he notice that by the lake, Jiang Zhiyu wasn’t alone. Before him stood Song Yueyao, seeming about to leave.
From this angle, if the two below looked up, they would spot them spying.
Wu Li’s brow furrowed slightly. Reaching out, he pressed Chai Xiaomi’s head down, ducking them both behind the windowsill.
"Lili, what are you doing?"
"Idiot, do you spy so blatantly?" He took her hand. "If you want to see, follow me."
In the shadows of the trees, a tall figure pulled a slender one out of the treehouse. He drew her into his arms, climbing swiftly and silently onto the thickest branch.
Soon, Chai Xiaomi was seated in the best viewing spot, the dense leaves covering them completely.
She glanced at Wu Li. He had his hands behind his head, one knee bent, leaning against the trunk, ready to nap.
"You don’t want to hear what they’re saying?" she asked.
"I’m tired," he admitted. "Sit still and don’t move. When you’re done eavesdropping, wake me. I’ll catch a nap."
Wu Li yawned. Never in his life had he imagined he’d resort to such sneaky behavior. He had zero interest in prying into others’ private affairs, but he had a wife who worried too much.
Just as he was about to close his eyes, he saw Chai Xiaomi wearing a serious, solemn expression, her eyes bright, listening intently. Worried she might fall, he silently tied the corner of her skirt to his own clothes.
Then, reassured, he leaned back and continued sleeping.
"Yaoyao, are you really going to leave secretly without telling anyone?"
The lake’s surface shimmered like scattered silver, casting Song Yueyao’s figure as fragile.
She stood with her back to Jiang Zhiyu, her tone flat. "Wasn’t it agreed earlier? After we reach Nether Springs Town, we go our separate ways."
"I was worried Xiaomi and the others might run into trouble along the way, so I accompanied you all," she paused. "Now I’ve lingered far too long. Grand Preceptor Yin already knows the Phantom Color Stone is in my possession. If I stay by your side, I’ll only bring you trouble."
Jiang Zhiyu’s voice came through the night, hoarse from crying. "I’m not afraid of trouble."
"You’re not," she said, turning to face him. The moonlight shone on her face, her expression cold as frost. "What about your father, the king, and your mother?"
"Jiang Zhiyu, don’t forget who you are. You’re the young master of Feather Feather Province, destined to rule one day. And I’m just an unloved, fallen princess with an empty title. There’s no need for you to waste your time on me."
Jiang Zhiyu: "If I could, I’d rather not have this identity."
"Don’t say such childish things. That would betray those who raised you. We all have our missions, our own paths to walk. Remember to pass this on to Xiaomi and Wu Li: it’s been an honor walking this road with you. These have been the happiest times of my life."
"What about me?"
Seeing Song Yueyao about to turn and leave, Jiang Zhiyu hurried a few steps after her, his voice trembling with tears again. "Don’t you... have anything to say to me? Yaoyao, what am I to you?"
Song Yueyao’s back stiffened for a moment.
The air seemed to freeze, solidifying between them.
She stood there, her back to him, unmoving for a long time.
When she spoke again, her voice was cold, like the lake water on this night—without a trace of warmth:
"From beginning to end, I’ve only been using you."
"Jiang Zhiyu, I’ve found you really innocent—innocent to the point of being ridiculous. When we first met as children, you lied and said you were a guard. In truth, I’d already discovered your identity back then. Getting close to you was all deliberate. A poor hostage like me, far from home—if I could earn the protection of a young master to live more comfortably, why not?"
She chuckled lightly.
"A whole nation’s young master, even making a special trip thousands of miles to Yuer-Bai to save me, to steal me away from an arranged marriage, to wander with me through hardship... Telling others about this, Song Yueyao would have a lot of face." Her tone carried a cruel flatness. "But that’s all it is—just face. What can you help me accomplish? Just say a few nice words, fan a little wind for me."
"What do you want me to do?" Jiang Zhiyu’s voice was rough and eager, like a drowning man grasping at a final piece of driftwood. "Just name it. I’ll do anything."
"No need," Song Yueyao cut him off.
"Leaning on a mountain, the mountain crumbles; relying on water, the water flows away. Whatever I, Song Yueyao, want to accomplish, I’ll do it on my own."
A night breeze swept over the lake, lifting a stray lock of hair at her temple.
She took a few steps forward, then stopped, without turning back.
"Jiang Zhiyu."
"Don’t be so innocent and easy to fool anymore."
"The mountains are high and the waters far—may you fare well. Farewell!"
This time, she strode forward, resolute, never looking back.
Chai Xiaomi’s gaze lingered on Song Yueyao’s figure as it dissolved into the night. Only when she had vanished completely did her eyes slowly shift to Jiang Zhiyu.
He bent over bit by bit, crouching by the lake, as though crushed by something invisible. The usually cheerful, comedic man was now helpless, lost, curled up there. His tense shoulders trembled faintly, and stifled sobs spilled through his teeth.
Chai Xiaomi watched him silently, her throat feeling stuffed with wet cotton, a sharp sting surging through her nose.
This was the greatest heart-wrenching moment in the original story’s later chapters—the protagonists parting ways. She had read this passage long ago, but seeing it unfold before her, she realized those black-and-white words could never capture the weight of this moment.
Song Yueyao carried too much on her shoulders.
She was a person who struggled to survive in the cracks, someone long accustomed to bearing everything alone. She knew how dangerous the place she was heading to was, understood how many unknown perils lay ahead, so she chose to push everyone away and walk forward alone.
Chai Xiaomi understood her unwavering determination and her deep sense of loyalty and love.
Even if they wanted to follow her to the capital, she would never agree.
Song Yueyao said she wanted to use the Phantom Color Stone to exchange for her imprisoned mother from the Imperial Father, but that was not the case.
Chai Xiaomi knew she also wanted to exchange for something else—the military tally of the Nie family army.
