She looked at An Zi yuan with a calm, steady gaze—her clear, tranquil eyes neither hesitant nor embarrassed. All her unease was subdued beneath that quiet composure. Even when their eyes met, Yun Rao felt her heart momentarily suspended, as though she were about to gasp for breath. Yet An Zi yuan merely glanced at her with a faint, unassuming gaze—so gentle that after a brief sweep, he was already composed and had smoothly turned his attention away. His deep, ink-black eyes remained still and cold, devoid of ripple or spark. Few men had ever seen her presence and remained utterly unmoved, unimpressed, without any flicker—though even the previous An Zi yuan had once been momentarily stunned upon first encountering her beauty. Such quiet stillness and composure, An Zi yuan had only recently achieved, and among those who had known her since childhood, only Xiao Run and now An Zi yuan himself truly matched it. Yun Rao couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the irony. This An Zi yuan, who should have been relieved, instead felt a heavy weight pressing in her chest, a dull ache that settled deep within her, a sense of quiet longing—like she had finally walked into a path of unfamiliar distance. Set aside the lingering melancholy, Yun Rao looked at An Ziyuan. In this imperial court, she wasn't sure how to properly address him—so she simply omitted the title and asked softly, "May I ask, is there something I can assist with?" "Who is it? Why have they come?" An Ziyuan gazed at her, his voice remarkably calm, yet carrying an unspoken authority—almost imperious, with a subtle edge of urgency. "Unseemly!" Yun Rao replied, unwilling to reveal too much about her own status at the moment. "Who dares to enter the imperial quarters without invitation?" The two thin lips, slightly parted, curled gently, forming a subtle arc—hinting at a quiet smile, perhaps laced with a touch of frost—but it quickly faded. Before Yun Rao had time to catch whether he had smiled at all, he was already speaking, yet not answering her question. "Is it a lady from the Moonlight Palace?" An Ziyuan seemed undisturbed by her silence, asking gently and with steady, soothing tone. Yun Rao couldn't help but glance at him, her eyes filled with curiosity. An Zi yuan suddenly smiled, "Indeed, you're from the Yuehua Palace." "...”She wanted to ask how he knew, yet felt a bit awkward, as if trying to prove her point—Yun Rao wasn't particularly good at social interactions, especially with An Zi yuan. After a moment of hesitation, she finally managed to speak, "So, who exactly?" A faint, slightly dismissive smile played at his lips, turning cold and sharp when his gaze settled upon her, yet with a subtle undercurrent of compassion—only to fade away in a moment. "Does Princess Xie Yue still find the Palace comfortable?" he asked, as always accustomed to steering the conversation himself and routinely overlooking Yun Rao's questions. Yun Rao exhaled, looked at him, and assumed the posture of an imperial consort. "I'm sorry, but I must return to rest now." She lifted her chin, straightened her posture, and turned to walk away. An Zi yuan didn't speak to stop her; he simply stood there, his gaze fixed on her back, his eyelids slightly lowered, his expression unreadable. The calm composure on his broad face mirrored the long, serene shadow his tall figure cast against the setting sun—unperturbed and poised. Yun Rao walked slowly and with quiet composure, her spine slightly stiff, her palms damp with sweat. Though she didn't turn around, she clearly felt the two warm, intense glances following her. She didn't know whether the gaze stemmed from his having forgotten her or from her having struck him as something remarkable. Yet such a gaze was familiar to her—much like a hunter's when he spots his prey—calm and steady, yet with an undeniable determination. After turning the corner of the corridor and confirming that she had escaped his line of sight, Yun Rao felt a near-collapse of weakness, her hands pressed against the wall as she rested, gazing blankly at the sunbeam dancing playfully across the corridor. She still felt a lingering sense of melancholy, having never thought of seeing her again since her departure—yet here she was, unexpectedly encountering her once again in such a small space. "Qu Xiao-man lowered her voice in response, yet slightly furrowed her brows, 'It just feels like there's something off—like the Emperor's injury is merely a pretense.' Yun Rao also furrowed her fine brows, looking at her, 'How so?"