Chapter 83: I Like You, And I Have Liked You For A Long Time

Li Rong walked back, clutching her qin. Shangguan Ya had just returned from a distance with her group and approached Li Rong’s side. Glancing at Li Rong’s expression, she cautiously asked, “Did it fall apart?”

“Take the bodies back first,” Li Rong replied calmly, ignoring the question. “And bring the survivors back for interrogation.”

With that, she turned and called out to Jinglan, who still looked pale. Handing the qin to her, she said, “Give this to the best craftsman to repair.”

Jinglan nodded and walked away with the qin.

Once Jinglan was gone, Li Rong joined Shangguan Ya to inspect the surviving assassins.

The prisoners had already been escorted to the Inspectorate by Shangguan Ya, so the two headed out together. Just as they exited Butterfly Gorge, Li Rong spotted a group of riders galloping toward them, halting abruptly.

Raising her head, Li Rong was somewhat surprised and couldn’t help but say, “Lord Su?”

Su Ronghua steadied himself, surveyed the surroundings, dismounted, and bowed to Li Rong. “Your Highness.”

“Why are you here?” Li Rong smiled. “Lord Su should still be on leave, shouldn’t you?”

“I heard Your Highness was in trouble,” Su Ronghua said after catching his breath. “I came to assist.”

“You arrived at just the right moment,” Shangguan Ya remarked, stepping forward from behind Li Rong with a sly smile. “The matter’s just been settled—perfect timing.”

“No need for such sarcasm, Shangguan,” Su Ronghua replied coolly, glancing at her before turning to Li Rong. “I only got word when Your Highness left the city. I gathered men and rushed here—it wasn’t intentional delay…”

“I know,” Li Rong nodded. “Your coming here is already effort enough.”

With that, she turned to Shangguan Ya and said softly, “Let’s go.”

Li Rong stepped forward, casting a brief glance at the men Su Ronghua had brought. She said nothing, but Shangguan Ya leaned in and whispered, “Your Highness, he’s brought men from the Ministry of Justice.”

Li Rong gave a slight hum, saying no more.

The two boarded a carriage and returned to the Inspectorate. Li Rong ordered the assassins to be detained separately, then had the leader brought forward.

The man was tightly bound, a rag stuffed in his mouth. Shangguan Ya bent down and whispered to Li Rong, “This one’s determined to die. He had a poison sac in his mouth, but we got it out.”

Li Rong studied the man carefully and recognized him. In her past life, he was a well-known figure—the deputy leader of the elite assassin organization Seven Star Hall, Lin Feibai.

A faint smile crossed Li Rong’s lips. “To bring out Hall Master Lin, the Chen family must have spent a fortune this time.”

Lin Feibai remained stone-faced and silent, but Li Rong felt a twinge of fear in her heart.

To think someone like Lin Feibai had been hired—if she hadn’t split the assassins’ forces today, leaving fewer outside to be overwhelmed by numbers and setting a trap with gunpowder inside, it would’ve been a brutal fight. They might not have made it out alive.

No wonder the Chen family was so bold. They were certain she’d die today.

Someone must have promised the Chen family something. If she died, even if the investigation pointed to them, they’d sacrifice Old Lady Chen to take the blame. Then, with some maneuvering, they’d protect Chen Guang.

Old Lady Chen was willing to risk her life to save her son this time.

Li Rong pieced it all together and looked at Lin Feibai. “Master Lin, I’d like to have a chat. I’ll have them loosen your tongue, but if you try anything like biting it off, tomorrow I’ll send soldiers to storm Qinqu Mountain and wipe out your Seven Star Hall. Understood?”

At the mention of Qinqu Mountain, Lin Feibai’s eyes widened in shock.

For an assassin organization, nothing was more taboo than having their hideout exposed. They’d taken this job believing that even if it failed, the palace wouldn’t find them. Yet Li Rong had named their base outright, throwing Lin Feibai into a momentary panic.

Seeing his reaction, Li Rong signaled for the rag to be removed from his mouth. As soon as it was out, Lin Feibai demanded, “How did you know?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” Li Rong said. “All you need to do is cooperate. I know you assassins are raised together from childhood. Your brothers are all at Qinqu Mountain, aren’t they? If I send men there today to catch them off guard, what do you think will happen?”

Lin Feibai’s face hardened, and he stayed silent. Li Rong continued, “I know betraying a client is taboo in your line of work. I won’t ask you to testify or expose yourself. Just tell me what you know.”

“And then what?” Lin Feibai’s voice was cold. “You use my information to hunt down the mastermind, and I’m dead either way.”

“Not necessarily,” Li Rong said persuasively. “You give me a lead, I follow it, and it looks like I figured it out myself. Then I give you a chance—you escape, go back, and warn your brothers to relocate. How’s that?”

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Lin Feibai scoffed. “Does Your Highness take me for a child?”

“There’s a condition, of course.”

Li Rong fanned herself lightly. “I want to place an order with Seven Star Hall, and you must accept it.”

Lin Feibai said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “The ones who hired you to assassinate Pei Wenxuan—those were your people, weren’t they?”

Lin Feibai’s silence was as good as confirmation. Li Rong smiled, her voice dropping further as she said earnestly, “Whoever suggested you kill Pei Wenxuan—go back and kill them the same way.”

“Afterward, send someone to pose as an ordinary person to make a deal with me. I’ll sell you a piece of land from my fief. Of course, you won’t actually need to pay—just make it look like a transaction, as if we don’t know each other. Then you move your base from Qinqu Mountain to my fief, and I’ll ensure your safety.”

Lin Feibai hesitated. Seeing that even such an offer didn’t immediately sway him, Li Rong realized whoever was behind him must have promised something equally enticing.

She thought about Qinqu Mountain’s location, took a sip of tea, and said slowly, “Think carefully. The Xie family is just a noble clan. They may have vast lands, but the officials and troops there are still under the court’s command. If my father orders an investigation, will those officials listen to the Xie family or the court? It’s uncertain. But my fief—”

Li Rong looked up at Lin Feibai. “I’m a princess. My fief is mine. Do you understand the difference?”

Lin Feibai’s expression shifted slightly. Li Rong toyed with her teacup. “I’ll give you the time it takes to drink a cup of tea to think it over.”

“You’re in the mud now—between me and the Xie family, you’ll have to choose a side. Before I leave, I expect an answer.”

Lin Feibai remained silent as Li Rong sipped her tea, watching the leaves float on the surface. When the time was up, she stood decisively to leave. Just then, Lin Feibai spoke quickly, “It’s Xie Lanqing.”

Li Rong paused. Lin Feibai looked up at her. “The Minister of Justice, Xie Lanqing. Are you sure you still want to kill him?”

Xie Lanqing was the current head of the Xie family. A single assassination might be feasible, but the retaliation from such a powerful clan would be immense.

Li Rong fell silent. Shangguan Ya frowned, about to speak, when Li Rong said, “Kill him.”

With that, she walked out, instructing Shangguan Ya, “Have them interrogate thoroughly. I’m stepping out.”

Shangguan Ya reluctantly agreed, escorted Li Rong out, then returned. She slapped paper and a brush in front of Lin Feibai, saying firmly, “Confess.”

Lin Feibai looked up at her, his sharp, eagle-like eyes studying her for a long moment. Shangguan Ya felt uneasy under his gaze. “What are you staring at?”

“I remember you,” Lin Feibai said coldly. “The one who stuffed the rag in my mouth.”

Shangguan Ya was speechless.

“I won’t talk. Get someone else,” Lin Feibai said, turning his head away coldly.

Shangguan Ya’s temper flared. She raised her hand to strike but stopped, remembering Lin Feibai held key evidence. Her hand hovered awkwardly in the air.

Just then, a chuckle came from the doorway. “Want a new interrogator? Fine, I’ll do it.”

Su Ronghua strolled in, sat across from Lin Feibai, flicked his robe, and leaned back in the chair. Looking up, he said calmly, “Go on, talk.”

Lin Feibai stayed silent. Su Ronghua pointed to a rag used for cleaning the floor and ordered, “Stuff that in his mouth.”

Lin Feibai’s eyes widened in fury. “You dare?”

“Shangguan dared, and I can’t? You underestimate me. Do it!”

At Su Ronghua’s command, the guards hesitated briefly before two stepped forward to grab the rag. Lin Feibai couldn’t hold back anymore and snapped at Shangguan Ya, “Get him out!”

Shangguan Ya shrugged. “You said you wanted someone else.”

“Forget it,” Lin Feibai said, his face dark with irritation. “Get him out, and I’ll talk.”

Shangguan Ya snickered. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to say that sooner?”

She turned to Su Ronghua, saluted, and gestured for him to leave. “Lord Su?”

Su Ronghua sighed at her gesture. “Truly, you’re all business when there’s work to do, but cold as ice otherwise. So heartless.”

Muttering, he returned her salute and left.

Shangguan Ya turned back, pushing the paper and brush toward Lin Feibai. “Master Lin, please.”

By the time Shangguan Ya finished interrogating Lin Feibai, it was late at night. As a high-ranking figure, Lin Feibai knew a lot, and his confession was extensive. After organizing the testimony, Shangguan Ya stepped out and instructed the others, “Detain the rest for now. I’ll question them tomorrow.”

“My lady, Her Highness has been interrogating all night and has already finished,” a servant said, holding a lantern to guide her.

Shangguan Ya was stunned. “Her Highness hasn’t left?”

“No,” the servant smiled. “She’s still reviewing documents.”

Shangguan Ya hesitated, then changed direction, frowning. “I’ll check on Her Highness.”

She made her way to Li Rong’s study. From a distance, she saw Li Rong still at her desk, a lamp illuminating her upright figure as she tirelessly reviewed the freshly extracted confessions.

Shangguan Ya reached the door and stood there for a moment. Just then, Su Ronghua emerged from locking his own room and noticed her. “Lady Shangguan?”

Startled by Su Ronghua, Li Rong heard their voices and looked up, smiling. “You two still here?”

“Your Highness,” Shangguan Ya and Su Ronghua bowed together. Li Rong glanced at the moon outside and urged, “It’s late. Go home.”

“Your Highness…” Shangguan Ya hesitated, but Li Rong, sensing what she wanted to say, said wearily, “Go back. It’s been a chaotic day. Lord Su, if it’s convenient, please escort Lady Shangguan.”

With such a bold move against them today, there was no guarantee the enemy wouldn’t retaliate. If they couldn’t get to Li Rong, they might target Shangguan Ya. Having Su Ronghua with her would make anyone think twice, considering the Su family’s influence.

Li Rong said it casually, not expecting Su Ronghua to agree. Relieved, she nodded. “Go on.”

Shangguan Ya said nothing, and Su Ronghua gestured. “Lady Shangguan, after you.”

Shangguan Ya sighed, saluted softly, and said, “Your Highness, please return soon.”

Li Rong nodded, looking back at her documents. “I’ll head back once I’ve finished.”

Seeing Li Rong’s state, Shangguan Ya didn’t press further and left with Su Ronghua. As they walked, Su Ronghua glanced at her and smiled. “You seem troubled, Lady Shangguan.”

“It’s nothing,” Shangguan Ya replied with a faint smile.

“Thank you for escorting me today, Lord Su.”

“A small matter,” Su Ronghua said, walking beside her. “It’s my honor to escort you home.”

Shangguan Ya didn’t respond. After a moment, she sighed. “Su Ronghua, I really can’t figure you out.”

“Oh?”

“You’re at the Inspectorate for your own reasons—we all know that. But escorting me today helps me and Her Highness.”

“Lady Shangguan, I’m not always against you,” Su Ronghua said with rare sincerity. “I have my own sense of right and wrong. If I think you’ve gone too far, I’ll side with others. If I think others have, I’ll side with you.”

“Don’t you have your own stance?” Shangguan Ya looked at him. Su Ronghua smiled faintly. “I do, but my stance is my own sense of justice, not tied to noble clans or imperial power.”

“Is that so?” Shangguan Ya’s tone was dismissive, clearly unconvinced. Su Ronghua sighed. “Fine, let’s not talk about that. It’s a rare chance to chat. You’re worried about Her Highness, aren’t you? Why not share it with me?”

Shangguan Ya stayed silent. Su Ronghua tapped his fan against his palm and said slowly, “Even if you don’t say, I can guess. Today’s mountain of peonies—Lord Pei must’ve gone to great lengths. Yet Her Highness set an ambush there. Their relationship seems… delicate.”

Shangguan Ya stopped walking. Su Ronghua turned to her. “Are you wondering why, if Her Highness cares for Lord Pei and he for her, their relationship is still so strained?”

“Su Ronghua,” Shangguan Ya said coldly, staring at him. “Is Her Highness someone you can casually speculate about?”

Su Ronghua chuckled and leaned closer. “Smile a little.”

Shangguan Ya stared at him silently. “Why?”

Though she didn’t specify, Su Ronghua knew she was asking about his earlier question. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you ask for answers?”

“Forget it then,” Shangguan Ya said lightly, turning toward the carriage. Before she reached it, Su Ronghua said, “Because she cares.”

“Her Highness is the type who avoids what she cares about most. She’s not like Pei Wenxuan. His parents, Lord and Lady Pei, had an extraordinary love, so Pei Wenxuan values emotion and has courage in matters of the heart. But Her Highness was raised in the palace. You and I both know that in our world, we’re taught that marriage is about duty, not love. Love is like the moon in the sky or a flower in the water—beautiful but unattainable. Doesn’t Her Highness see it that way?”

“Born in different worlds, they naturally differ. Pei Wenxuan seems gentle and yielding, but he’s fiercely determined. Once he sets his mind, he plans every step and fights for every inch, especially in love—he won’t stop until he succeeds. But Her Highness isn’t like that. She views love with both reverence and sorrow. She fears losing herself in it, so the more she cares, the more she’s afraid.”

“Why do you say that about her?” Shangguan Ya turned back, frowning. Every word Su Ronghua said seemed right, but she couldn’t understand why he knew Li Rong so well.

Su Ronghua shrugged. “Let’s just say someone told me.”

“Who?”

“You don’t need to know.”

He smiled lightly. “I’m only telling you to clear things up. Pei Wenxuan and Her Highness aren’t a good match. His love is something she can’t handle—she’d be afraid.”

Shangguan Ya said nothing, watching him quietly. Su Ronghua stepped closer and sighed. “So stop worrying about them. Let it be.”

At that, Shangguan Ya laughed.

“Whether they’re a match isn’t for you to decide.”

With that, she turned and strode back toward the Inspectorate. Su Ronghua froze, watching as she crossed the courtyard and hurried to Li Rong’s room.

Li Rong was still writing. Shangguan Ya marched up, snatched the brush from her hand, and said firmly, “Your Highness, stop writing.”

Li Rong paused, and Shangguan Ya continued, “If you want a divorce, do it soon. If you want to keep your consort, go back now.”

“Why are you still here?” Li Rong laughed, looking up at her with a hint of exasperation. “Why’s a young girl like you meddling so much?”

“Your Highness, you’re only eighteen this year,” Shangguan Ya said seriously, looking at her. “I’m actually a bit older than you. Listen to me—go back.”

Li Rong didn’t respond, her expression calm, as if she hadn’t understood a word.

Shangguan Ya frowned. “Your Highness, you’re always decisive. Why are you avoiding this? You can’t stay here reviewing documents forever—you’ll have to face him eventually.”

Li Rong listened, then smiled, glancing at the lamp. “You think I’m being indecisive and unlikeable, don’t you?”

Shangguan Ya froze. Li Rong took the brush back, saying gently, “If I go back, the person Pei Wenxuan sees will be this version of me.”

“So what?” Shangguan Ya couldn’t hold back. “Pei Wenxuan cares about you, and you’re not indifferent to him.”

“Who said I care about him?” Li Rong said, her head lowered, writing deliberately on the paper.

Shangguan Ya laughed, ignoring propriety, and retorted, “Your Highness, have you ever fed soup to anyone else?”

Li Rong’s brush paused. Shangguan Ya pressed on, “Have you ever tended to anyone like that? Have you ever been so careful about someone’s feelings? Have you ever cared whether someone likes you or not?”

“Don’t you care? When the assassins said they’d kill you, you told me to let it go. But when they attacked Pei Wenxuan, you wanted them wiped out. Killing Xie Lanqing is too risky, but you’re doing it to send a warning…”

“Enough!” Li Rong shouted.

Shangguan Ya pursed her lips, staring at her. “Your Highness, have you thought about how you’ll live your life like this? You’ll push away everyone you care about and everyone who cares about you!”

“Haven’t I thought about it?” Li Rong replied calmly, her voice steady. “I’ve thought it through clearly. I don’t care about others, and I don’t need others to care about me. I’ll make sure the people I care about live well. I’ll have wealth and power, and whoever I want by my side will stay. I know exactly how I’ll live—you don’t need to tell me.”

Shangguan Ya was stunned by her words. Li Rong set down her brush, seeming to regret saying so much.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stood, trying to stay calm. “I understand—you all think everything should have a resolution. Pei Wenxuan’s pushing me for one, and now you are too. He’s right—I want him by my side without giving anything in return,” Li Rong said, pausing to steady her voice, keeping it as normal as ever. “I know that’s selfish. No matter how good I am to him, if I can’t give him what he wants, I should be clear and let him go.”

“Today was my fault,” she said rationally, her tone even. “I’ve been avoiding his feelings, always assuming the worst. If I’d been more attentive, I wouldn’t have hurt him. I owe him an apology, and I need to be clear with him. I can’t assume being good to him makes up for what he’s given me. I have to give what he wants—or tell him I can’t. You don’t need to say more. I’ll go back.”

Shangguan Ya listened, stunned. Li Rong swept her sleeve and walked out. Shangguan Ya called after her, “Your Highness.”

Li Rong stopped, and Shangguan Ya looked at her. “Why have you never considered being with him?”

Li Rong didn’t answer. Her back to Shangguan Ya, she said after a long pause, “Go back.”

With that, she stepped out and boarded the carriage, sitting alone inside.

In that solitary space, she clenched her fists.

She opened and closed her hands, steadying her breath, forcing back the emotions surging within her.

These were trivial matters—not worth her attention. She shouldn’t let them unsettle her. What needed resolving should be resolved without delay.

Her reason kept her in check, but in a fleeting moment, Shangguan Ya’s question echoed: Why have you never considered being with him?

Why?

It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. But every time she imagined a future, she’d wonder how long they’d last, if they’d part, what she’d become if they stayed together, and how she’d cope if they didn’t.

She’d seen her mother sit in the Beiyan Tower for an entire night. She’d seen countless women in the palace gain promises only to face separation. She vividly remembered the humiliation and self-loathing she felt at eighteen when Pei Wenxuan said, “I can’t let her go,” and the helpless confusion when she tentatively asked Su Rongqing, “Can I divorce him?” and saw him kneel before her.

Those memories were carved into her bones. She refused to let anyone see that humiliated side of her.

She wanted everyone to see a Li Rong who, even if arrogant, never bowed her head.

As she recalled the past, she cooled her heart inch by inch, calming herself.

After a long while, the carriage stopped. Jinglan’s respectful voice came from outside, “Your Highness, we’ve arrived.”

Li Rong steadied herself, then responded. She reached out, letting Jinglan help her down. A cold breeze swept over her, bringing an inexplicable chill. Standing at the princess’s residence gate, she looked up at the golden plaque. For some reason, she thought of the residence from her past life.

In her memory, the princess’s residence was always cold and silent. Even with Su Rongqing trailing behind her like a shadow, silently accompanying her through every corner, a bone-deep chill would still seep into her.

But in this life, the residence had never felt that way.

When Su Rongqing was behind her, he was like her shadow—another her. They were too alike, buried together in the residence’s lifelessness. No one understood her better than Su Rongqing, but because of that, when they sank into darkness together, neither could save the other. They could only drown together.

Pei Wenxuan was different. He was entirely unlike her. When he stood behind her, she felt his presence clearly. She knew, no matter how far she fell, there was someone who could reach out and pull her up.

That feeling terrified her yet filled her with an irrepressible longing. Knowing she was mired in filth, she couldn’t help reaching for him.

But she knew her emotions were a swamp. Reaching for Pei Wenxuan was like pulling someone from solid ground into the mire to drown with her.

She would ruin him.

Her sensitivity, her suspicion, her selfishness—they’d wear down this man who held the purest hopes for love, turning him into someone like her.

Li Rong walked into the courtyard and saw a young man standing on the long corridor.

Dressed in a simple robe with a pure white fox-fur coat draped over it, he gazed quietly at the moon.

Silver light spilled down. Li Rong stopped at the corridor’s entrance, not daring to approach.

Pei Wenxuan turned slightly and saw her. Across the corridor, they gazed at each other in silence.

Seeing Li Rong, Pei Wenxuan felt an indescribable pang in his heart.

It was as if he saw the Li Rong from their past life—cold, proud, and untouchable.

Neither spoke, just watching each other quietly.

After a long time, Pei Wenxuan smiled first. “Your Highness is back.”

“Yes,” Li Rong replied. “You’re still up?”

“I had something on my mind and wanted to ask you, so I waited.”

“Go ahead,” Li Rong said, her tone open, as if she’d made up her mind and feared nothing.

Pei Wenxuan sensed her mood was off. He paused, then said, “Today, when you mentioned our past life and got upset, I saw you seemed hurt. You’re usually reserved, so to say those things, our past must’ve wounded you deeply. I know I shouldn’t ask, but I still want to—did I hurt you so much that no matter how I explain, you can’t let it go?”

“No,” Li Rong said, looking down. “You explained everything clearly, and I’ve let it go.”

“Then what did you mean today when you said it wasn’t just me who felt trampled or pitied?”

“I just wanted to remind you to stay rational, no matter the time.”

Like she had back then.

Pei Wenxuan stiffened. After a moment, he took a deep breath, as if finding it absurd. He wanted to say something but held back, finally letting out a soft laugh. “Your Highness is always Your Highness. I was overthinking.”

He saluted respectfully. “Your Highness, I’ve been busy lately, often out early and back late. To avoid disturbing you, I plan to sleep in the study for now. I hope you’ll allow it.”

Li Rong kept her head down and murmured, “Alright.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Pei Wenxuan said, straightening up calmly. “It’s late and cold. Please rest.”

He turned to leave. Watching his back, Li Rong finally said, “I’m sorry.”

Pei Wenxuan stopped. Li Rong looked at the ground, her voice soft. “I was wrong for not being clear with you and avoiding you. I was wrong for letting you down.”

Pei Wenxuan wanted to laugh but couldn’t. After a long pause, he exhaled and said faintly, “Your Highness doesn’t need to mind. It was my choice. Whether you accept it is your decision—there’s no right or wrong. I was presumptuous today. Please forgive me.”

Li Rong said nothing. Pei Wenxuan didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he felt that if he left now, there’d be no going back.

So he stayed, and she didn’t leave either.

In that stalemate, Li Rong slowly raised her head.

She gazed at Pei Wenxuan’s back, the lamplight casting a soft glow around him.

Everything about him was beautiful—even his silhouette was tall and elegant, like a fine bamboo blade, striking at first glance.

Such a good man—if he took a step now, they’d likely never cross paths again.

Pei Wenxuan was proud at his core. Reject him once, and he’d never try again.

She’d never had him, and now she was about to lose him.

Without him, the princess’s residence would be as cold as her past life. Without him, her life might be like before—nothing but power.

She’d prepared herself on the way, but at this moment, no preparation was enough.

For some reason, she recalled Shangguan Ya’s question: Your Highness, have you thought about how you’ll live your life like this?

And then, she remembered their wedding night, when Pei Wenxuan sat before her and said earnestly, “Because you want to live a good life.”

“You don’t want to live like last time.”

“You want His Highness the Crown Prince to be well, a happy family, someone who loves you and whom you love, children around you, and someone to rely on in old age, to face the end together—don’t you?”

Don’t you?

Li Rong’s hands trembled as she stared at his back.

He stood there, waiting for her. She didn’t know why, but a faint courage stirred within her.

Pei Wenxuan waited a long time, growing weary. He said tiredly, “Your Highness, I’m exhausted. I’ll take my leave.”

“Pei Wenxuan,” Li Rong called out suddenly, her voice shaking.

He turned back, puzzled, and saw her standing at the corridor’s end, looking at him with earnest eyes. “Can you wait for me a little longer?”

He didn’t know what she was thinking, but when she spoke, it was as if she’d crossed mountains and rivers, torn through thorns that left her bloodied, and stood before him, struggling to speak.

“Pei Wenxuan,” she said, sounding utterly exhausted, “I’m not a likable person. I know I’m frustrating when it comes to love—I’m not worth it. I’m flawed. I can’t trust you, and I can’t trust myself. I know all the reasons, but I can’t do it.”

“But despite all my faults,” she forced a smile, “can you, for the sake of fate bringing us together across two lives, wait for me?”

Pei Wenxuan was silent. The brief pause drained her courage. She laughed awkwardly, lowering her head. “I’m just saying. You probably don’t understand and think it’s ridiculous. Follow your heart. If you’re hurt and want to leave, that’s fine. We’re familiar enough…”

As she spoke, Pei Wenxuan felt a subtle pain spreading through his heart, a fine ache settling into soft flesh, both sorrowful and tender.

Looking at her, he interrupted her self-deprecation. “Rongrong.”

Li Rong slowly raised her head at the name. Pei Wenxuan stood under the lamplight, a smile spreading across his face. His expression was gentle and forgiving, like a spring breeze brushing through willows, soothing all pain.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “It’s okay if you’re slow.”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You know,” he chuckled, “in our last life, I waited for you for thirty years.”

He walked toward her, gently placing his hand on her face. “I’m very patient. I can wait a long, long time, Rongrong.”

Looking down at her, his voice low and tender, he said, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Li Rong listened, and somehow, though she’d never shed tears in this life no matter how hard it got, at that moment, tears streamed down, falling onto his hand.

This confession, delayed by thirty years, finally reached her in this messy, ordinary moment.

“You…” Her voice was hoarse, trying to laugh but failing. “Why didn’t you say sooner?”

“It’s been thirty years,” she said, looking up at him with red eyes. “What do you want by telling me now?”

“To be with you,” Pei Wenxuan said calmly, his gaze steady. “I don’t want to let go. I want to hold you when you cry, stay by you when you laugh, shield you from every rain, be with you in every moment of struggle, joy, glory, despair, life, death, and beyond.”

“What do you even see in me? I’ve got a bad temper and always bully you.”

Li Rong laughed, and Pei Wenxuan smiled too.

“Maybe I’m blind,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “So I think there’s no one better than you in this world.”

“Li Rong,” he said, his fingers gently brushing her face, “I’ll wait for you. Just keep moving forward.”

“I’ll always be here.”

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