Chu Moqing’s heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively softened his movements, stepping steadily back onto the ground.
As soon as he steadied himself, Tang Jinyan reflexively withdrew her hand, the earlier tension still lingering in her brows, momentarily at a loss for words.
Chu Moqing looked at her slightly flustered expression, his gaze softening as he said quietly, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Tang Jinyan lowered her eyes and shook her head gently. “It is I who should thank you for saving me earlier.”
Chu Moqing gazed at her reddened earlobes, his throat tightening slightly. After a moment, he replied softly, “Your Highness’s safety is of utmost importance. It is my duty.”
With that, he instinctively averted his gaze, turning to the ancient books dampened by the rain. “These books have gotten wet. I will take them to dry and tidy them up.”
Tang Jinyan followed him silently, watching as he gathered the dampened scrolls.
Outside, the rain fell in a continuous drizzle. While charcoal fires were commonly used in the palace to dry books, Chu Moqing instead sought out some dry plant ash, spreading it evenly over waste paper. He then carefully laid out the dampened pages one by one, sandwiching them between the ash-covered paper and gently pressing them down with weights.
Tang Jinyan watched the fine layer of ash settling on the pages and finally couldn’t help but step forward, asking softly, “Will this work? Won’t the ash stain the books?”
Chu Moqing paused in his movements, looked up at her, and gestured toward the bundle of ash wrapped in thin cloth beside him. “Your Highness need not worry. This is thoroughly dried mulberry wood ash—fine and dust-free. It is only spread on waste paper to absorb moisture and will never touch the book’s core. Once the pages are dry, the ash can be shaken off, and the books will remain clean and intact.”
He gently pressed the edge of a page with his fingertip and added, “Using charcoal fires in the palace may be faster, but it damages the paper. This method absorbs moisture slowly but protects the books. It is the safest approach.”
Tang Jinyan nodded, though she only half-understood.
Chu Moqing’s finger stilled on the page, his tone growing slightly distant, as if recalling past memories:
“I come from humble origins. When I studied in the past, my books were often soaked by rain, and I had no charcoal fires to dry them. Over time, I learned some clumsy methods to preserve them.”
Tang Jinyan’s heart suddenly ached.
She was not unaware of his humble background—he hailed from a remote village in Lizhou. Yet since he became the Fuma, she had rarely asked about his past, always assuming that their current stability and comfort were enough.
He, too, had always been steady and reserved, never speaking to her about those difficult days.
In this lifetime, he had so casually and openly revealed the hardships of his past.
Outside the eaves, the rain pattered softly, while inside the room, it was so quiet that the faint scent of damp pages could be heard.
She gazed at his profile as he lowered his head to tidy the scrolls, suddenly feeling that this person before her was more real and more heartbreaking than the one in her memories.
“Lord Chu… to have studied your way to where you are now, you must have endured many hardships unknown to others, right?”
Chu Moqing had not expected the Princess, a delicate and noble figure, to ask so softly about his past struggles. For a moment, he was taken aback, then a faint warmth flickered in his eyes as he replied quietly:
“Your Highness flatters me. For scholars, enduring hardship while studying is a common experience—nothing particularly difficult. It’s just… I lost my mother at a young age and grew up relying on the kindness of the villagers. Fortunately, the villagers took pity on my loneliness and saw that I was willing to study, so they pooled their money to send me to a private school. That was how I gained the opportunity to take the imperial examinations.”
Tang Jinyan pressed gently, “And… what about Lord Chu’s father?”
At her question, Chu Moqing’s fingers tightened slightly around the page. He slowly lowered his head, a shadow passing over his brow, clearly unwilling to say more.
"I'm sorry… I…" Tang Jinyan quickly lowered her voice, her tone carrying a hint of flustered apology.
Chu Moqing gently shook his head, his voice kept very low, tinged with a barely perceptible strain: "It's nothing. He… he left home when I was very young and never returned."
Tang Jinyan gazed at his lowered eyes and brows, her heart suddenly clenching.
In her previous life, she had known nothing of these matters, only vaguely hearing others say he had no parents and came from a lonely, impoverished background.
After he became the Fuma, he never mentioned returning to his hometown, and she had never given it any thought.
Only now did she suddenly recall that in her past life, Chu Moqing often went to the bank to deposit silver, always including a long and unfamiliar place name. She had glanced at it once and forgotten it.
Now, thinking back, that must have been his hometown.
He couldn't even return to repay the villagers who had pooled money to support his studies back then, let alone face their earnest expectations—they had hoped he would achieve Imperial Examination Success, bring honor to his family, and win respect for the village. No one could have anticipated that he would end up as a royal son-in-law, confined within the four walls of the Gongzhufu, where even returning home to fulfill filial duties and repay kindness became an impossible dream.
It wasn't that he didn't want to return; he simply had no face to go back.
Only now did Tang Jinyan belatedly realize this.
She had always believed that in her previous life, she had given her whole heart, loving Chu Moqing deeply and finding it hard to let him go.
But only at this moment did she understand how shallow and self-righteous that love had been.
The difficulties and grievances he hid in his silence, the homesickness and guilt buried deep in his heart—she had never truly paid attention to any of it, from beginning to end.
Tears welled up fiercely in her eyes, nearly spilling over. She hurriedly turned her face away, looking out the window at the continuous curtain of rain. Suppressing a sob, she spoke softly: "Lord Chu is now enjoying a smooth official career and has achieved his wishes. When you attain further honors in the future, you'll surely find an opportunity to go back and visit."
Hearing this, Chu Moqing gave a light laugh, faint yet gentle, the final note falling very softly: "Yes."
Just as silence began to spread in the room, footsteps sounded outside the door. Xiaoxi entered, holding an oil-paper umbrella in her hands and carrying a black brocade cloak over her arm. She curtsied: "Princess, I have returned."
Tang Jinyan lightly raised her hand, signaling Xiaoxi to present the items to Chu Moqing.
Understanding her meaning, Xiaoxi stepped forward, holding them out.
Chu Moqing reached out to take them, bowing slightly toward Tang Jinyan: "Your Highness, the rain is growing heavier. It is inconvenient for me to stay longer, so I shall take my leave."
Tang Jinyan turned around, forcibly suppressing the moisture in her eyes, and nodded gently: "Take care on the road, and avoid the rain."
Chu Moqing gave a slight nod, his gaze gently resting on her reddened eye corners. He paused for a moment before softly advising: "Your Highness should also return to your chambers and rest early. The dampness is heavy on rainy days; please take good care of your health."
With that, he did not linger further. Lifting the black cloak, he draped it over his shoulders, deftly fastened the collar ties, then opened the oil-paper umbrella and strode steadily out of the hall door.
The umbrella steadily shielded him from the pouring rain, and his figure soon vanished into the continuous rain curtain, gradually walking farther away.
Only the sound of pattering rain remained in the hall. Tang Jinyan still stood in place, gazing in the direction he had left, a bitter ache churning in her heart.
Xiaoxi approached and called softly: "Princess, what are you looking at?"
Tang Jinyan slowly withdrew her gaze, her eyes still holding undispersed moisture and melancholy. She murmured quietly:
"I am looking at everything… I missed in the past."