"Is she taking her first steps or already babbling? Does she have beautiful features like Yuewei? Has she... already learned to call me 'Mother'? Has anyone taught her to say 'Father'?" Xiao Chengjing's thoughts drifted away from the bustling scene in Jiangnan. His longing and yearning entwined his heart like vines, growing tighter with each passing day.

He missed so much: the first time he rolled over, the first time he sat up, the first steps… Whenever he thought of these things, an indescribable bitterness and urgency welled up in his chest. He remembered the letters that Shen Yuewei had politely refused and returned; between the lines, she never denied her feelings, yet every word was a protection of freedom and her daughter's future. This clarity and persistence pained him, but it also made him respect and love her even more.

However, his sleeves were empty. There was no jade pendant, no sachet, and not a single note.

This profound longing had no tangible object to hold onto; it burned purely and intensely in his heart, stemming solely from his deep-seated love for that woman from Jiangnan and her unwavering integrity in the face of power and influence.

Her figure, her aura, the radiance she exuded while running her shop independently, the tenderness she showed while protecting her daughter, and the unwavering resolve she showed when refusing to enter the palace—these were his only and most precious keepsakes.

He could clearly outline her features with his eyes closed, and feel the tenderness and resilience that belonged only to her. This love needed no external proof; it was the most powerful force in itself, supporting him through the long night of separation.

"Soon...or perhaps not soon enough." He murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of helplessness and a deeper resolve. Soon—that was his inner anticipation; not soon—that was the cold reality. He had a prior agreement with his father, the Emperor, to dedicate himself to assisting his third brother, Xiao Chengyu, for at least another year, until Xiao Chengyu could truly establish himself in the court and stand on his own. Only then could he relinquish the heavy burden of regent and go to Jiangnan. This responsibility was the duty of a crown prince, the duty of an elder brother, a bargaining chip for future freedom, and the greatest respect he could offer for Shen Yuewei's insistence on "not wanting to be a concubine"—he wanted to prove with his actions that he could give her and An'an a future that transcended the constraints of the palace.

During this period, he devoted almost all his energy to nurturing his third brother, Xiao Chengyu. Under his strict supervision and patient guidance, the once somewhat impetuous young man gradually showed signs of composure and responsibility. He became increasingly methodical in handling government affairs and more adept at dealing with people.

Watching Chengyu methodically present the strategy for military farming in the northern border at today's court assembly, Xiao Chengjing felt a sense of gratification mixed with a pressing sense of urgency at the passing of time. Every instruction, every time he allowed Chengyu to try new things, was paving the way for that agreed-upon "one year later." The results were remarkable, but the road still needed to be walked step by step with utmost care. This achievement was a passport to Jiangnan, but it also meant that he had to endure a longer separation.

The undercurrents in the court remained turbulent, and the flames of war in the north required constant vigilance. But at this moment, the call from Jiangnan, like an invisible thread, tightly bound his thoughts. He finished organizing the memorials, rose, and walked to the window. The evening breeze carried the warmth of early summer, and also the imagery of southern moisture, as if mingled with the faint incense from a silk shop, mixed with the sweet milky scent of An'an, and…

Under the lamplight, Shen Yuewei wrote the words "I'd rather be a commoner in simple clothes than a bird in a golden cage" with gentle yet firm ink.

The return date was set, yet it seemed so far away. The long-suppressed, fiery yearning, bound by the "one-year promise," transformed into a deeper sedimentation and a more steadfast vigil. He could only channel this unreserved love and understanding into the strength that propelled him forward, and into nurturing his third brother with even greater care.

He knew that Yuewei was living a resilient and beautiful life in Jiangnan, just like her meticulously managed silk shop, protecting their peace. Meanwhile, he was in the capital, weaving, stitch by stitch, a tapestry leading to their reunion in a different way.

Jiangnan, wait for me. Yuewei, be well. No tokens are needed; my heart is clear, and I know your heart. When Chengyu is fully grown, Chengjing will surely come.

Father... will definitely come and hug you, in a way and in a way that you are willing to accept.

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