The girl, who had grown up on the frontier since childhood, was visiting this magnificent palace for the first time. At that moment, she had no idea that she would spend the next decade and more trapped in this cage-like place; all she felt was curiosity and excitement.

“Your Highness, this is your younger sister, Yiling. You must get along well with her from now on,” said the elderly lady, dressed in luxurious robes, smiling kindly as she gently stroked the girl’s hands and spoke to her favorite grandson.

“Of course. Since Sister Yiling has just arrived at the palace, she may be unfamiliar with many things. If the servants can’t help, she can come straight to me or to Her Majesty,” the young prince replied to the old lady, then turned to the girl. His smile was both joyful and never overly familiar.

—Although he was still quite young, his manners, conduct, speech, and actions already made him a handsome and refined gentleman.

The girl, who had been looking around just moments before, snapped out of her daze when someone spoke to her. She turned her head and saw a graceful young man smiling at her.

With a face as bright as the mid-autumn moon, skin as delicate as the blossoms of spring dawn, hair neatly trimmed like it had been cut by a blade, eyebrows drawn like ink, cheeks powdered smooth, and eyes sparkling like autumn waves, the girl had never seen anyone so beautiful and was instantly mesmerized.

“What’s wrong, Sister Yiling?” the young prince asked, concerned, not knowing what was on her mind.

The elderly lady also looked at her curiously, then suddenly realized, “Oh, it’s probably shyness! Don’t worry—feel free to stay here. From today on, the palace is your home. But there aren’t many children in the palace, so whenever Your Highness has some free time, please come and keep your sister company, so she can adjust more quickly.”

“Yes,” the young prince replied respectfully.

When Duan Yunhe found Zhao Erhan, he was laughing and playing with the little tiger, Bai Pao. Yet she sincerely sensed a deep loneliness hidden beneath his gentle gaze.

“…Erhan.” She couldn’t call him by his given name, nor could she address him as “Your Highness,” and she certainly couldn’t use the intimate terms they’d once shared. As Duan Yunhe uttered these two words, her voice trembled slightly.

“Xiao Ling, why have you come?” Zhao Erhan was overjoyed to see her seeking him out on her own. Her beautiful eyes sparkled with vitality and radiated an irresistible charm.

To hide her discomfort, Duan Yunhe hurried over, picked up Bai Pao, and began stroking it, using the distraction to avoid his gaze—and his questions. “Do you know its name?”

Zhao Erhan nodded. “It’s Bai Pao, right? I heard you calling it that yesterday.”

“It was Fengze who brought it back to keep me company. Though I think tigers should really be set free in the wild, Fengze said it was too thin and weak, always getting beaten by its siblings for food. Even if it stayed there, it wouldn’t live long, so we brought it back from the Zizhu Forest,” she chattered on about Bai Pao’s ‘background,’ yet her tone showed no joy or excitement at all.

Hearing Qiu Huan’s name, Zhao Erhan’s expression stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered. Only yesterday had he learned from the secret guards that Qiu Huan was a woman; until then, he’d been under a misunderstanding and had even felt uncomfortable about Duan Yunhe’s closeness to Qiu Huan for quite some time.

“Survival of the fittest is simply the way of nature. Even among humans, who share blood and kinship, there are those who will sacrifice others for their own interests—let alone animals, whose survival is so much harder,” Zhao Erhan said calmly, without any trace of cynicism. Born into the royal family, he had a clear understanding of human nature’s treachery and no longer made a fuss over such matters. Duan Yunhe, however, disliked this kind of reasoning. She believed in the inherent goodness of human nature and in a beautiful world; otherwise, she wouldn’t have devoted herself so passionately to standing up for the oppressed and lending a hand to those in need.

But at that moment, Miss Duan had something weighing heavily on her heart, leaving her no time to pay attention to what he had said.

Noticing how absent-minded Duan Yunhe seemed, Zhao Erhan pressed his lips together briefly and gestured for the surrounding secret guards to withdraw. After all, the Crown Prince of Gaoyang would never venture alone into the dangerous territory of Wushu without protection—there were at least twenty guards, both overt and covert, each one exceptionally skilled.

“I’ve sent them all away. Xiao Ling, do you have something you want to say?”

“…Call me Yunhe,” Duan Yunhe requested first, then mustered the courage to meet his gaze directly, staring unblinkingly at him as she got straight to the point: “Is your wife, the Crown Princess of Gaoyang, pregnant?”

Zhao Erhan had already suspected why she had come, though he wasn’t sure how she’d learned the news so quickly. Still, he wasn’t particularly surprised when he heard it: “Yes, she is. Does Xiao Ling care a lot about this?”

Upon hearing this, Duan Yunhe lost all interest in pressing him further. The news was simply too hard to accept—even though she knew deep down that it had nothing to do with her, she still couldn’t help feeling upset.

“…Congratulations.” Overwhelmed by pain, she opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t make a sound. It took her a long while before she finally managed to utter a dry, hollow wish.

“That’s my wife. If I were always alone with her, and she remained childless for years, the rumors from outside would drive her to her death. I have a duty to take care of her,” Zhao Erhan said calmly, not trying to explain or defend himself, but simply stating a fact.

On the day Duan Yunhe turned nine, the joy of the Crown Prince’s wedding swept through all of Gaoyang. This couple were the heirs to the throne—the groom was elegant and dignified, the bride as beautiful as the moon and flowers, and everyone present was delighted for them.

Yet who had ever cared about their own wishes?

Duan Yunhe understood Zhao Erhan’s predicament perfectly. After all, besides being himself, he was also a husband, a son, and the future leader of the nation. If Qiu Huan and the others were the most unfettered people in the free territory of Wushu, then Zhao Erhan was the most bound by rules and regulations in the rigid society of Gaoyang. No matter what he truly felt inside, he had an obligation to treat his wife well—and even to give her a child—otherwise she wouldn’t be able to survive in the Gaoyang imperial family. And since Duan Yunhe would never accept him as a concubine, once he had a legitimate wife, there was no possibility of anything between them. So whether his wife was pregnant or not, what difference did it really make to her? He knew this very well, which is why he did everything in his power to care for his wife and kept their relationship within the bounds of affection and propriety.

End of Chapter 25: Secret Words in the Courtyard