He suddenly realized that this book actually had some merit.
Xie Yanzhou saw that Nan Qianyue was staring at the city gate, and he felt a mix of emotions. He also thought about how Nan Qianyue had given him the jade that she had worn since childhood.
Qianqian's relationship with the Crown Prince of Nanjing was... even better than he had imagined.
"Is this the skin of your military commander?" Nan Qianyue asked, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the carriage.
Xie Yanzhou shook his head, but the tightness in his chest wouldn't go away anytime soon. He forced a smile and asked, "What does 'skin' mean?"
“Your attire,” Nan Qianyue said, gesturing with her eyes to the armor he was wearing.
Xie Yanzhou nodded slightly, "Mm."
He paused, then couldn't help but ask, "Qianqian, in your heart, am I..."
"Xie Yanzhou." Nan Qianyue's expression suddenly turned serious. "I've already said it, we're brothers, the kind of brothers who would risk their lives for each other. There's nothing more than that. Don't make things difficult for yourself, and don't make things difficult for me either."
Such a blatant and ruthless rejection was like a demonic claw dragging Xie Yanzhou into a deep abyss, while an invisible claw choked his breath, making it difficult for him to even catch his breath.
"...And him, is he a friend too?" Xie Yanzhou managed to utter the question with difficulty, his heart filled with panic and unease, fearing that her answer might be different.
Nan Qianyue nodded without hesitation, her eyes full of openness and ease. "Yes, he is also a friend. It's just that he knows a lot about me, so even though I don't remember what happened two years ago, I am willing to trust him."
Xie Yanzhou wasn't comforted, but he didn't want to continue this painful topic. "Qianqian, let me take you home."
"No need." Nan Qianyue waved her hand, lifted her skirt, and stepped onto the carriage. "You go about your official business. I'll be going now."
The carriage sped away, leaving Xie Yanzhou standing there like an abandoned child, alone in the wind that had grown cold.
"Miss, Xiansi Pavilion is in the West Market. Shall we go there now?" asked the woman in green.
Nanqianyue lifted a corner of the curtain and looked at the street where the crowds were gradually increasing. "Hmm, let's go."
"The silkworm spins silk until its death, the candle burns until it is ash..."
"This poem, 'With a Title,' was written by the Southern Poet Immortal in his sleep!..."
Exaggerated praise echoed from the street into the carriage.
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