Lin Tingwan's tears finally fell, forming a glistening trail on her cheek.

She wanted to say something, but in the end she just looked at Shen Jintang deeply and whispered a thank you.

On the other side, Gu Zhixing was buried in a pile of account books, checking the accounts, the red pen making a scratching sound on the paper.

Ye Qingzhou hesitated at the door for a while before finally unable to resist coming in.

“Boss,” he scratched his head, “news has come from the palace that Miss Shen has completed the training of the princess’s palace servants ahead of schedule, and the wedding has also been moved up.”

The pen tip paused on the paper, spreading a small patch of vermilion.

Gu Zhixing raised his head, a smile spreading across his face: "She wants to finish her business in the palace early so she can come back and see him sooner!"

Before he could finish speaking, he chuckled softly, his cold and stern features softening instantly.

Ye Qingzhou opened her mouth, but swallowed the words back.

He saw his master's slender fingers unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist. It was a small gift that Shen Jintang had casually given him last year, but Gu Zhixing wore it every day as if it were a treasure.

"Prepare the horses." Gu Zhixing suddenly stood up, his robes billowing in a gentle breeze. "I'm going to see her now!"

Inside the Jade Pagoda Palace, Shen Jintang leaned against the window, her fingertips unconsciously twirling a silk thread around her sleeve.

The crabapple blossoms outside the window were in full bloom, their petals fluttering in the night breeze. A few drifted in and landed in her outstretched palm.

She looked down at the soft petals and suddenly remembered what Ye Qingzhou had said that day.

The portraits in the South Study Room, one each year, covered the entire wall...

Her fingers tightened abruptly, crushing the petals to pieces, and the juice stained her fingertips red.

She stared blankly at the vibrant color, feeling a heavy weight pressing on her chest, a dull ache in her chest.

The night wind stirred the candlelight, casting her shadow on the wall, flickering uncertainly.

The sound of drums came from afar, one after another, as if striking the heart.