Fragments of memory suddenly surged forth, causing a sharp pain in Pei Nai’s head.
She heard the sound of sand in the desert, the desolate night wind howling endlessly across the top of the camp tents, stirring a sense of bleakness. She stood beside a dried well, watching as the northern wind whipped up the flags, gazing longingly into the distance.
The fragment vanished in an instant, yet she felt a deep, overwhelming despair within it.
So what exactly happened ten years ago?
Jin Ling’er’s trembling voice spoke his name, reminding Pei Nai of his current identity.
“Duke… Duke Ding’an…”
Yes—the Duke Ding’an, maternal uncle of the current Emperor Xiao Yi, a grand duke of immense power who still exercised regency authority. His status was supreme, while she now stood worlds apart from him.
A bitter feeling rose in Pei Nai’s heart, indescribable.
He stood there, draped in a gray fur cloak, wearing cloud-step boots, his bearing handsome and dignified, adorned in gold and purple. For her, their parting had been no more than a single season—but for him, it had been ten years…
How long is ten years?
A withered lake reshapes its shores, and lines appear between a man’s brows.
Time had carved its marks, stripping away his youthful innocence, yet granting him a hardened maturity. At thirty, Gu Jinheng was even more impossible for Pei Nai to look away from.
At the East Auxiliary Tower of Yuanxiao Pavilion.
The others had recovered from their shock, but Pei Nai was still dazed.
“This…” Yixi looked at the two figures across from them and spoke in a lowered voice, “this shouldn’t count within the terms of the bet, right?”
Jiang Qingyue felt increasingly pleased—fortune itself seemed to favor her, even arranging for the Duke Ding’an to appear at this exact moment.
Unwilling to miss the opportunity, she sneered, “Why wouldn’t it count? Our bet didn’t exclude unexpected situations. What? Our Princess Chenzhao is afraid now?”
Pei Nai came back to her senses, recalling that the bet had to be honored. Jiang Qingyue and Jin Ling’er had already asked their questions—now it was Yixi’s turn.
She looked at Yixi, only to see her face pale and stiff. The look she gave Pei Nai clearly said: Why am I this unlucky?
Jiang Qingyue, relieved she wasn’t the one in this position, now watched with amusement.
Who would dare risk their fragile life, withstand the Duke’s overwhelming presence, and approach him to speak?
Jiang Qingyue had expected to see Yixi embarrass herself, but instead Pei Nai spoke first:
“This kind of small matter shouldn’t trouble Yixi. She can stay and read—I’ll go in her place.”
Jiang Qingyue and Jin Ling’er stared at her as if she were mad, mouths agape. “A small matter?”
Yixi grabbed her sleeve, her eyes clearly saying don’t go, but Pei Nai had already decided. She asked a palace maid, “Is there paper and brush?”
Jiang Qingyue looked at her in disbelief again. “What do you need those for?”
“The Duke Ding’an cannot speak, and I don’t understand sign language. With paper and brush, it’ll be easier to communicate,” Pei Nai said.
She had lived with Gu Jinheng for five years—of course she knew sign language. But she remembered her current identity.
She was now Tang Mingzhi. She knew—but Tang Mingzhi did not.
The others stared at her in shock. Jiang Qingyue’s face twitched as she said irritably, “Miss Tang, are you living in a past dynasty? Or have you been isolated in some village? The Duke’s muteness was cured ten years ago. He speaks fluently now. What nonsense are you spouting?”
Pei Nai froze completely.
His muteness… had been cured?
Though the news overturned everything she knew, it also reminded her that in his youth, Gu Jinheng had apprenticed under Li Jiangyin, one of the Six Rivers, learning the internal alchemical art to open his meridians and cure his condition.
It seemed his internal cultivation had reached great mastery.
Thinking this, Pei Nai felt a trace of happiness for him.
Outside the window, Gu Jinheng had already entered the main hall of Yuanxiao Pavilion with his guards, disappearing from sight.
Pei Nai smiled faintly at Jiang Qingyue and hurried downstairs.
To the others, this was a daunting task in a bet—but to Pei Nai, it was merely speaking a few words with the person she knew best.
After she left, Yixi hurried after her, calling for her to wait. But Pei Nai moved quickly down the stairs, already descending three levels and stepping onto the bridge connecting the East Auxiliary Tower to the main hall without stopping.
On the bridge, Yixi finally caught up and grabbed her.
Pei Nai turned. “Why are you stopping me?”
Gu Jinheng, who was ascending the stairs, paused slightly. He stepped forward, pushed open a carved window, and looked out—only to see two young girls talking.
The palace was noisy today, so he hadn’t heard what they had been doing earlier. But from the moment he entered Yuanxiao Pavilion, he had clearly heard the girls discussing him. He also heard that one of them still thought he was mute.
He opened the window because of something the girl had just said—it sounded exactly like something Pei Nai used to say years ago when she defended others after being stopped. The tone and cadence were identical.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though she were still alive…
The thought unsettled him instantly.
He gave a faint, self-mocking smile. There was nothing there—just a group of children.
The winter wind rushed through the open window, stinging his face. He closed his eyes briefly, then turned and left. The servants shut the window behind him.
On the bridge, Yixi raised a finger to her lips, signaling Pei Nai to lower her voice, then whispered urgently:
“Mingzhi, your life matters! At a time like this, who cares about a bet? Pride won’t feed you. Losing one round won’t matter—we can just leave. The Duke’s presence is overwhelming—even officials approach him with fear. If you accidentally offend him, neither I nor Madam Ju can protect you!”
Only recently had Pei Nai realized that this was how others saw Gu Jinheng…
But what kind of person was he, really? Even after sharing a bed with him for five years, she still couldn’t fully describe it. But she knew one thing—he would never make things difficult for a young girl.
“What’s there to be afraid of? He’s not going to eat me. I’m just going to ask him a question.”
Yixi tried to say more, but before she could, Pei Nai had already turned and left.
In moments, Pei Nai entered the main hall. Yixi dared not make a scene and could only follow anxiously behind, thinking that if something happened, perhaps her status as the daughter of Prince Guangping might help plead for mercy—though she wasn’t sure how much it would matter.
She shook her head in despair, blaming herself. Why had she made such a bet in the first place? If something happened to Mingzhi, she could never atone.
When Pei Nai approached, Gu Jinheng stood before a bookshelf. Palace attendants knelt across the floor, pressing their foreheads to the ground, not daring to lift their heads.
Pei Nai understood—he had come to look for a book.
The imperial study housed countless volumes, but due to the palace banquet, officials who would normally report in the morning had likely come in the afternoon instead. The Emperor’s study must have been crowded, so he had come here for convenience.
Pei Nai pondered for a moment how to begin.
He likely already knew why she had come. Whatever she said would probably be dismissed as idle chatter.
Better to speak plainly.
She steadied her heartbeat.
“This humble woman greets the Duke Ding’an. May you be blessed with peace and prosperity.”
She performed a proper bow.
Gu Jinheng’s expression remained cold. His gaze stayed on the bookshelf, not even glancing at her.
Pei Nai felt a trace of unease. His imposing aura had only grown stronger over time.
“My friend made a bet with her classmates. Recently, their teacher posed a question regarding views on family. I need an answer from you to complete the task. May I ask the Duke a few questions?”
Gu Jinheng seemed displeased. The air suddenly surged, and Pei Nai felt her breath tighten, as if her throat were being gripped.
The silver-armored guard beside him was already accustomed to this. He stepped forward, preparing to drag her away.
Pei Nai roughly understood the reason. Unhurried, she guided her breath to her dantian, circulating her internal energy through her meridians. The tension in her body released the moment her qi flowed freely, and the suffocating sensation disappeared.
Only then did Gu Jinheng raise his eyes.
The girl stood there, looking at him with a smile in her eyes.
There was no fear—nor any anger at his earlier action.
That smile seemed to pierce through time, bringing Gu Jinheng back more than a decade—to a girl who once looked at him the same way. The girl who had stopped his carriage in the street to ask whom he loved. The girl whose heart and eyes had been filled entirely with him.
Those on this level could feel the oppressive pressure in the air gradually easing.
Gu Jinheng’s heart softened…
It wasn’t just her words—even her reckless, straightforward nature reminded him of Pei Nai back then.
The silver-armored guard, about to step forward, was halted by an invisible force.
At last, Gu Jinheng spoke.
“Then what about you?”