A month later, in the elegant Yuehua Palace within the Dà'ān Imperial Palace. Yun Rao sat listlessly by the window, her fingers gently tapping the pendant of the weeping willow on the window sill. Sunlight filtered through in scattered patches, bringing a sense of calm—but not of comfort. The atmosphere, though serene, failed to lift her spirits. With a resigned smile, she pulled at her lips, then withdrew her hand, instinctively glancing at her wrist. Her fingers traced the red thread that had now wound all the way up to her wrist—the thread, once delicate, had grown increasingly severe with time. To be alive today, she found, was itself a surprising feat. That evening, she had left the pavilion without turning back, riding swiftly to the capital city, joining the procession of Xi Yue and taking her place in the imperial palace. Now, nearly a month into her stay, no wedding ceremony had yet been held. Yun Rao didn't care at all whether they would marry or not. Princess Xi Yue had already been arranged to reside in the palace, and was now safely settled within the Great An Imperial Court. Any unforeseen events would occur within the realm of Great An, and thus would have no connection to Yun Ze. Yun Rao had not changed her appearance; she had simply worn a veil since falling ill with a cold before entering the palace. Her figure was similar to that of Princess Xi Yue, so with the veil covering her face, she easily blended into Yun Ze's wedding procession. Once inside the palace, the people of Great An only knew that Princess Xi Yue was Yun Ze's first beauty—yet they were unaware of her actual appearance. As long as Yun Rao did not deliberately seek confirmation from Yun Ze, she would easily deceive the palace staff about her looks. On the other hand, Yun Ze, as the disadvantaged party, would certainly not have anticipated that Yun Ze would fabricate the marriage arrangement. Indeed, if Yun Rao had changed her appearance and died in a manner that was both clean and dignified, that would have been a favorable outcome. But if she died suddenly, and someone noticed that she was not truly Princess Xi Yue, it would have actually brought great Yun Rao did not love Yun Ze. Though his home was hers, it had also been the place that destroyed her family. She had no knowledge of what had transpired back then, and at her young age, she could not even be certain whether her parents had truly rebelled—only that they had been seized and their household confiscated in that manner. It seemed there must have been some undercurrents, some hidden reasons. Yet, with her own life hanging in the balance, she had no strength to fight for her family’s cause, let alone seek justice or revenge. She did not want Yun Ze to suffer because of her—only that she cared deeply for the people of that land, who bore no relation to the imperial family. She would step in to marry into the household in place of Xi Yue, though she owed Xi Yue a life and a promise: with less than three months of freedom, she had traded for Xi Yue’s lifelong happiness and well-being. In truth, it was a gain. She had no idea how Zi Yuan was faring. She neither went to inquire nor dared to care. The day she had given him the Forget-Sorrow Powder, she had already ceased to hope he would remember her. It was she who had intruded upon his life, who had simply stayed without invitation—every hardship she endured was self-inflicted, while the pain he suffered stemmed entirely from her caprice. The only way she could atone was to make him completely forget her. That would be fine—when he forgot her, she would leave this world, and thus, they would have never truly met. Without meeting, there would be no entanglement. As soon as she arrived, she was assigned to reside in the Moonlight Palace. Though no grand wedding ceremony was held, the Emperor had been remarkably kind to her, treating her as the "Princess Liu Yue" from Yunze, sending over numerous maids to attend to her. Yet Yun Rao, who preferred quiet, had grown weary of being constantly attended to from all sides. Thus, although there were many maids, they merely waited in the outer hall. Yi, a princess of noble status, has entered the palace, assigned to the imperial harem, yet the Emperor has never even summoned her. To outsiders, it seems as though the Emperor is setting a difficult precedent for her, making her, a mere titular princess, feel undervalued and pressured. Cloud Rao, on the other hand, finds this situation quite relaxed—until now. The Emperor has been attacked on his way to her palace, suggesting something more profound has unfolded. Should she go to see and investigate, or simply pretend not to know? Cloud Rao, unfamiliar with the intricacies of court protocol, is at a loss. If she doesn’t go, others may think she’s being aloof and resentful; if she does go, the Emperor appears to have kept the news of the attack quiet—perhaps even deliberately concealed. “How many people are aware of this? How serious is the Emperor’s injury? What is the current situation in the palace?” After a moment’s pause, Cloud Rao asked softly. “It’s said the Emperor is seriously injured, though the exact details remain unclear. The palace has now been placed under martial law, with all information strictly sealed and no word allowed to reach the outside.” Yun Rao furrowed her brows, clearly determined—since the news had been deliberately suppressed, it meant the imperial court wished to keep outsiders in the dark. Now, by going to visit, she seemed almost trying too hard to conceal the truth, which made it seem more awkward than necessary. Perhaps it would be better simply to remain passive. Once she had made up her mind, she settled comfortably, entrusting Cui Si not to speak too much about it, and then settled in to rest. She slept soundly until late in the afternoon. After her departure, how to arrange things without involving the common people of Yunze—Yun Rao had already discussed this thoroughly with Qu Xiaoman. Yun Rao trusted Qu Xiaoman’s competence completely, so she need not worry much. She walked calmly in a simple imperial gown toward the Imperial Garden. Her steps were leisurely. Now that spring had arrived, the snow had begun to melt and the plum blossoms were in full bloom, making the garden vibrant and full of life. Yun Rao was not well-versed in the court’s customs, so to avoid any inconvenience from other imperial consorts, she deliberately chose less crowded paths. She focused entirely on the scenery along the way and had no idea anyone would come to this quieter corner of the garden. Thus, she paid little attention to the path, and unexpectedly, just as she turned the corner, she collided with someone. Yun Rao was frail and had recently lost her internal energy; the impact nearly sent her stumbling. Fortunately, a slender, strong hand firmly grasped her wrist and steadied her. Yun Rao glanced at that hand, and without knowing why, a sudden sense of unease rose in her heart. A familiar presence washed over her, and the fluttering sensation made her heart tremble, causing her to unconsciously hold her breath, unwilling to lift her eyes. She simply murmured, "Thank you." "Never mind," came a quiet, calm voice—steady and low, with a subtle magnetism, clear and pleasing, like the gentle sound of silk and bamboo instruments. It unexpectedly made Yun Rao stiffen. Indeed, it was him. She hadn’t expected to meet him here, within the grand palace halls. Yet, thinking further, he was of royal blood—after the Emperor had been attacked, it made sense that he would be present. As for whether An Ziyuan remembered her, Yun Rao wasn’t certain. She was confident in the strength of her potion, but doubted his willpower and resistance. Especially the last look she had given him before she left that day—the fierce determination in his eyes still left her heart trembling even now. Yun Rao dared not look at An Ziyuan. With a gentle twist of his hand, he easily pulled hers away. Bowing slightly, she said, "I'm sorry." Unsure how to address herself, she simply omitted even a farewell and turned to leave. "Wait!" A soft voice rose from behind. Yun Rao paused slightly, then feigned not hearing, quickened her pace—only to find herself outpaced by An Ziyuan. The moon-white robe swayed gently, and in mere moments, the man who had been behind her now stood before her, blocking her path.