Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When I was nineteen, Pei Yuheng nearly died before my eyes for the second time.

By then, he was no longer the ignored Seventh Prince in the Cold Palace, but the Prince of Jin, sent to the Northern Border by the late Emperor-ostensibly for experience, but in reality, he had been discarded. Everyone in court knew that the Northern Border was a bitter, desolate place where barbarian cavalry frequently raided; the late Emperor was sending him to his death.

The night before he left, he scaled the walls of the Star-Gazing Pavilion.

I was startled awake by movement outside my window. He was stepping over the sill, his clothes damp with night dew. Having not seen him for three years, he had grown much taller, his shoulders broader, and the boyish softness had faded from his features. Only when he looked at me did his eyes still hold a hint of that old smile.

“A dignified Prince climbing walls in the middle of the night? Aren’t you afraid of falling?”

He laughed softly. “Wouldn’t Miss Ye just catch me?”

I rolled my eyes at him but went over to help him anyway.

Once he landed, he pulled a paper bag of still-warm roasted chestnuts from his robes and placed them on my table.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I came to see you.”

“If you want to see me, just see me. What’s with the chestnuts? Trying to bribe me?”

“I was afraid you’d be stubborn and say you didn’t miss me.”

His words made my ears burn. I turned away to pour tea so he wouldn’t see.

We talked a lot that night. We talked about whether the snow in the Northern Border would be heavy, whether he could return to the capital if he truly earned military merit, and whether-if the day came when he no longer had to rely on anyone else to survive-he could take me out of the palace.

He said he could.

Then, as if fearing I wouldn’t believe him, he untied a jade pendant from his waist and pressed it into my hand, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.

“Ye Wentang.”

“Hmm?”

“Wait for my return. I will ask Imperial Father to grant us marriage.”

I froze.

He looked away, appearing somewhat embarrassed, but his voice remained steady.

“If you are willing, keep this pendant.”

Outside the window, the moonlight was perfect; inside, the candlelight flickered gently. I looked down at the jade in my palm, still warm from his body, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst from my chest.

“And if I’m not willing?” I teased him on purpose.

He fell silent for a moment, then reached out to take it back. “Then give it back to me.”

I quickly dodged, clutching the jade pendant tight.

He finally laughed, reaching out to give my forehead a light flick.

“Heartless.”

Later, the war in the Northern Border turned out to be far more brutal than anyone had anticipated. Pei Yuheng won several victories in a row. Just as the court began to look at him in a new light, the blades in the shadows struck again.

In the winter of the seventeenth year of Chengping, he led his troops in a desperate defense of Yanhui Pass, but reinforcements never arrived. On the final night, Luo Jingheng’s men infiltrated the army and fired a cold arrow from the gate tower.

That arrow struck him right in the heart.

When the military report reached the capital, my entire body was shaking. One look at my face and my father knew what I intended to do. He stopped me for an entire night, but in the end, he still gave in.

“Wentang, this is already the second time.”

“I know.”

“If you save him again, he will forget even more.”

I lowered my head and wiped my dagger clean, my voice very soft. “But if I don’t save him, he’ll be gone.”

Father remained silent for a long time before finally opening the array for me.

That night was even more painful than the first.

When the Fate-Scribe Blood entered the lamp, it felt as if a hole was being physically carved into my chest. The brighter the flames grew, the clearer the memories of him became in my mind-so clear they made me tremble. I saw him secretly holding my hand on Shangyuan Night; I saw him shielding me from the rain outside the Star-Gazing Pavilion; I saw him pressing the jade pendant into my hand before his departure, his ears red as he said he would marry me when he returned.

I remembered all of it.

But once he woke up, none of it would belong to him anymore.

After the great victory in the Northern Border, he returned to the capital to report on his mission and came straight to the Star-Gazing Pavilion to find me.

I was still ill then, burning with a high fever, but I forced myself to sit up and wait for him. When the door opened, Pei Yuheng stood there against the light, his black armor still on, carrying the chill of the northern winds and snow. When I saw him, tears nearly fell instantly.

“You’re back.”

He looked at me with a complex gaze, as if he had much to say, but in the end, he only asked one thing.

“Miss Ye, the Director of the Bureau told me that I once had a marriage engagement with you.”

My heart suddenly felt hollow.

“You… don’t remember?”

He was silent for a long while, then slowly shook his head.

“I remember wanting to see you. I remember that the first thing I had to do after returning to the capital was to find you.” There was confusion and a hidden ache in his eyes. “But I cannot for the life of me remember when we started, or how we reached the point of discussing marriage.”

I gazed at him, and the tears finally fell.

He seemed startled by my tears and hurried forward, reaching out to wipe them away.

“Don’t cry.”

His movements were incredibly clumsy, but his touch was very light, as if he were afraid of breaking me. But the more he acted this way, the more miserable I felt.

He had forgotten.

He had forgotten the most important part, completely and utterly.

I suddenly grabbed his hand and pressed the jade pendant back into his palm.

“Pei Yuheng,” I asked hoarsely, “if one day you forget me until there’s nothing left, what then?”

He frowned, as if he found my question nonsensical, but he still answered seriously.

“I won’t.”

“If that day truly comes, then I will simply get to know you all over again.”

“As many times as it takes.”

When he said this, his expression was deeply sincere.

At that time, I actually believed him.

But only later did I realize that some forms of forgetting cannot be mended just by getting to know someone again.

Especially when the last shred of affection has been violently carved away.