In the grand hall of the court, two figures soon appeared.
"Your humble servant greets Your Majesty," Old Madam Fu performed a full ceremonial bow.
Beside her, Jiu Yue was about to kneel when a deep, authoritative voice rang out from ahead.
"Step forward," the man commanded.
Jiu Yue paused but did not hesitate. She walked forward with composure and raised her eyes to meet Emperor Yan's gaze.
Emperor Yan was much older than the ruler of Tianqi, and his imperial majesty was far more imposing. Merely standing there and fixing his gaze upon someone was enough to evoke an instinctive urge to submit.
Yet Jiu Yue did not blink as she stared back at him.
Father and daughter locked eyes without warning.
Before the attending eunuch could shout "How dare you!", Emperor Yan had already risen from his dragon throne and strode toward her.
"You resemble me," Emperor Yan said as he stood before her, scrutinizing her carefully—from her eyes, which mirrored the Empress's, to the simple silver hairpin in her hair.
His expression remained unreadable, but beneath his sleeves, his hands clenched into fists, barely restraining his emotions.
Countless imposters had claimed to be Muling before, yet Emperor Yan had never spared them a glance. But the moment this young woman appeared at the palace gates today, his heart had clenched, and his eyes had reddened slightly.
He recognized her instantly—his child. Their child.
Jiu Yue, however, remained oblivious. The day before, her grandmother had told her that only her eyes resembled the Empress, while Muling’s entire face had been a mirror of hers.
So now, Jiu Yue wanted to see if she looked more like her father.
Perhaps her gaze was too intense, for Emperor Yan reached up and pushed aside the dangling beads of his imperial crown, his tone laced with an unconscious fondness. "Is this better? Can you see me more clearly now?"
Jiu Yue: "..."
Was this really appropriate? A ruler of a nation, casually pushing aside his own crown in front of his ministers?
Still, without the beads obstructing her view, she could indeed see him better.
Jiu Yue nodded earnestly.
"You do look like me," she said, even raising a hand to cover her eyes for comparison.
Emperor Yan burst into laughter, his entire being radiating joy. He gave Jiu Yue’s shoulder a hearty pat before turning back to his throne.
"Good! Very good! This is my Eldest Princess!" With a flourish of his sleeve, Emperor Yan seated himself once more, his gaze lingering on Jiu Yue. In that moment, he was no longer just an emperor—he was a father.
"By imperial decree," he announced, "the long-lost Eldest Princess Yan Zhaoning has returned to her rightful place. This is a blessing from heaven, and my heart overflows with gratitude. To share this joy with the realm, I hereby declare a grand amnesty, so all may celebrate together in this era of peace!"
"Long live the Emperor! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand times ten thousand years!"
The ministers knelt in unison, their voices echoing through the hall.
Only Jiu Yue remained standing in the center. She turned back, meeting Emperor Yan’s trusting smile.
For a moment, she was stunned, then—unexpectedly—felt a rare lightness in her heart.
This time, perhaps, she wouldn’t have to fight alone.
Tianqi, the capital.
The journey from Qinxi to the capital should have taken no more than three to five days, but Mei Wuchang insisted on stopping at every town along the way, marveling at the sights and buying trinkets.
So, after a leisurely trip filled with sightseeing, by the time they returned to the capital, autumn was nearly upon them.
Upon arriving at the estate, Qiu Dongfang took Mei Wuchang to settle in—his room was right next to the one Jiu Yue had once occupied.
Mei Wuchang even peeked inside, but not a trace of her remained.
Qiu Dongfang patted his shoulder, and the two went to sort through the souvenirs they had collected. Along the way, Qiu Dongfang shared stories of their past missions, while Mei Wuchang recounted tales of Jiu Yue’s earlier days.
By the end, both were lost in melancholy, carrying the souvenirs to the gate to wait for Sima Qing.
The estate was still managed by the steward, and everything remained unchanged. Sima Qing felt no sense of belonging anywhere, not even in his own courtyard.
Yet when his gaze swept over the vibrant clusters of flowers blooming wildly in the small garden, his steps unconsciously slowed.
Under the careful tending of the servants, they had flourished.
Sima Qing closed his eyes briefly before summoning a servant. "Remove these flowers."
"As you command, Your Highness."
After changing his robes, he returned to find the servants already digging up the flowers. He watched in silence for a moment before exhaling softly.
"Never mind," he conceded. "Carefully uproot them and place them in my carriage."
The servants were left bewildered.
Were these not just wildflowers? Since when had His Highness developed such peculiar tastes?
...
Mei Wuchang clamored to visit Jiu Yue, and Sima Qing had no desire to linger in the capital either. So, after hastily packing a few belongings, they set off to see her before heading straight for Mingzhi Mountain.
Jiu Yue was buried in the peach grove outside the city, though without the blossoms of spring, the trees were nothing but bare branches—hardly a sight to behold.
Sima Qing had built her grave himself.
With no kin to claim her, the tombstone bore only the words "Jiu Yue’s Grave." He had fulfilled every last wish she left behind.
He stood in silence for a long time.
Meanwhile, Mei Wuchang and Qiu Dongfang began arranging offerings, while Mo Jin and Fu Yu stood nearby in sorrow, occasionally pouring wine onto the ground.
As the two chattered about their travels, Sima Qing stared at the name "Jiu Yue" carved into the stone.
Then Mei Wuchang declared, "When spring comes and the peach blossoms bloom, I’ll return to see you!"
Her grave would surely be blanketed in fallen petals by then...
But suddenly, Sima Qing stiffened, his gaze fixed on the tombstone—his expression shifting into something unreadable.
