After Yan Ning hastily recounted her decades of experiences to Jia Jia, she was waiting for her mother and Bin Li to return when a piercing pain in her fingertip made her dizzy. She looked around, her vision blurred, at everything before her—still antique and elegant, but not the Jian Gong Zhai. A flash of bright yellow passed before her eyes, and a low, sorrowful sigh came from beside her, "Yan Ning, I won't force you. Why have you made yourself like this?"

A tear-filled eye, fragments of a dream fading into her vision, prevented Yan Ning from seeing the speaker, yet she knew who it was. She closed her eyes, tears sliding down to the wound on her right cheek, a searing pain shooting through her. Her consciousness suddenly cleared, and the face in her vision gradually became clearer. Yongyan, dressed in a dragon robe, sat on the bed, looking at her with pity and heartache, while Empress Yuexian, standing beside him, looked at her with regret but her gaze remained unchanged.

Yongyan was holding her hand, which had been pricked by the imperial physician. A single, round drop of blood, seemingly frozen, clung to her smooth skin. A hint of reproach flickered in Yongyan's eyes. "General Fucha has been dead for a year. When have I ever acted improperly towards you? Do you perhaps think I am a licentious and incompetent ruler?"

Yan Ning withdrew her hand from Yong Yan's and turned her face away. The finger-length wound on her right cheek stung his eyes. He also turned his gaze elsewhere. He then commanded the two kneeling imperial physicians, "If Miss Yan Ning's appearance is harmed, I will take your heads!" His tone was normal, without any deliberate attempt to add authority, but because of his status, his words weighed heavily on the backs of the two physicians. Trembling, they replied, "We will do everything in our power!"

The wound was extremely deep. Even though Yongyan bestowed all the finest medicines from the palace upon the Imperial Medical Academy, a long scar still remained on Yan Ning's face a month later. It resembled a centipede, contrasting sharply with the smooth, jade-like skin on her left cheek.

At first, Yongyan would frequently visit Jingyang Palace, where Yan Ning resided, but each time he saw her with a cold expression, the imperial physicians were at a loss as to how to treat the scars on her face. Gradually, Yongyan began to visit only every few days.

This is probably the emotion inherent in emperors; there are countless concubines and beauties in the palace who want to please him. For a day or two, Yongyan could still see Yan Ning's cold face, now disfigured, with the lingering thoughts of the past. But as time went on, his feelings were also drawn away by the women who went to great lengths to enhance his appearance.

Yan Ning smiled bitterly to herself. If she had even a sliver of affection for Yong Yan, she would be smiling behind her back at the newlyweds, while secretly grieving alone.

As autumn's chill sets in, leaves fall in a flurry. The apricot trees outside Jingyang Palace are now bare, their branches withered, struggling against the autumn wind. She once lived in Jingyang Palace alongside Consort Rong, their deep affection the envy of all in the palace. Yongyan's decision to have her reside here must have been based on past events, a way to ease her conscience by keeping her in familiar surroundings. But what others don't know is that her relationship with Consort Rong has long since ended; their paths diverged, and they could not work together. Just like with the other concubines in the palace today, there is no need for them to meet or contend in this life.

Lying on her bed, she was constantly thinking about the dream she had when she fainted. In the dream, she returned to the modern world, and it was Heshen who moved the "Fu" character stele to help her go back. Although Fukang'an had told her about the stele in a letter after returning from Miao territory, she was still deeply grieving his departure and never went to see Heshen. If she had gone to him, Heshen would surely have helped her.

She was astonished. Heshen's home was raided, and Fu Chang'an was ordered to oversee the execution—all of this matched history. If so, then what Jiajia told her in her dream—that her mother and Binli were both well—should also be true. But was the tragic end of Heshen's family being implicated and exiled to Ningguta because Heshen had altered the "Fu" character stele for her?

The departed are gone, but the sorrow of longing remains etched in her memory, a suffocating pain only she feels when she thinks of Fukang'an. In this life, she has already wronged Heshen too much; must she ask him to sacrifice his family for her on her deathbed? Her hands clutched the two jade pendants around her neck, Fukang'an's plea for her to "share weal and woe" echoing in her dreams, while Heshen's family was trapped in her clutches by their crimes.

Suddenly the beaded curtain was lifted, and the palace maids knelt on the ground, exclaiming, "Greetings, Your Majesty!"

Yan Ning emerged from her dream. She had been living in the palace for a month. Because the Emperor Emeritus was healthy in the Yuanmingyuan Garden, no one except the palace servants, imperial physicians, and the Empress in the Jingyang Palace knew that she was living there.

This was the first time Yuexian had visited her in a month. Yan Ning helped a palace maid of about fourteen or fifteen years old to get up from the bed, but she didn't know the maid's name. Just then, Yuexian entered and quickly helped Yan Ning up, saying, "You're weak and ill, get up quickly!"

Yan Ning rose and looked at Yue Xian before her. Yue Xian was no longer the naive girl who had openly expressed her feelings from over a decade ago; now, dressed in the Empress's phoenix robes, she possessed an unparalleled grace. Her eyes also held a hint of regret as she looked at Yan Ning's right cheek. "What a pity for such a beautiful face, Fucha," she realized her mistake and quickly corrected herself, "How could Miss Yan Ning have fallen from the carriage! The Emperor, upon hearing the news of Lord He's return to the palace, personally brought you in. In his fury, he exterminated the coachman's entire family. Even so, it cannot bring back Miss Yan Ning's beauty! Alas!" She sighed, took Yan Ning's hand, and sat back down on the bed.

Autumn was in full swing, the window lattices were open, and a cool breeze blew in. Yuexian's warm and delicate hands rested gently on Yan Ning's dry hands. Her smile held a hint of regret as she dismissed the palace servants.

Yan Ning knew the thoughts of the women in the palace, but she didn't want to expose them. Yue Xian's current gentle demeanor towards her was simply because of her disfigurement, and Yong Yan would no longer have any lingering feelings for her. She turned her face away, deliberately presenting her scarred face to the Empress. "Your Majesty, please state your purpose!"

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