That day, Sanqi stopped her at the door. Sanqi said that she seemed to have come in a hurry, so she must have something to tell him.
But after arriving, Lan Jingtang noticed that An Yuan'er seemed hesitant to speak several times, and it was clear that her thoughts were only concerned with that one person.
Lan Jingtang sometimes loathed his own inner turmoil. Although she didn't say it, he knew what was on her mind, and he couldn't bear to see her suffer.
That person...
Lan Jingtang calculated the days and realized it was almost time.
In the autumn of the fourteenth year of Tiansheng, the leaves began to fall gradually, and there was an occasional cold wind blowing, bringing a slight chill.
An Yuan'er stared blankly at the long-withered peach tree. More than two months had passed since A Li's funeral, and people seemed to be gradually accepting the passing of the Sixth Prince.
As time goes on, those remaining memories will also disappear with time.
The once-brilliant sixth prince will eventually fade from people's memories.
Even if everyone forgets that there was a person named Yi Chenli in the world, An Yuan'er will never forget him. In the dead of night, all An Yuan'er thinks of is him.
An Yuan'er pondered this for several days. If Ali really hadn't died, he could have taken Li Gui away, so why did he keep it from her?
He should know better than anyone that she would worry. If he were still the same person he used to be, how could he bear to make her suffer and force her to endure this pain of separation?
I can't figure it out.
A fog seemed to be covering her eyes, and An Yuan'er felt that there was something she didn't know.
Suddenly, an extra layer of clothing appeared on her: "It's chilly outside, why didn't you wear an extra layer when you came out?"
Looking up, he saw Lan Jingtang. Lan Jingtang's recovery over the past month has been rapid. He was previously severely injured and his hands and feet were bandaged, preventing him from moving freely. But now, with the support of crutches, he can move slowly.
Lan Jingtang and the Emperor took a long sick leave. Without the power struggles in the court, he spent most of his time with An Yuan'er.
An Yuan'er put on her coat, which seemed to warm her up a bit.
However, even though my body felt warm, I still felt empty inside.
"What are you thinking about? You seem so engrossed." Lan Jingtang looked into An Yuan'er's eyes and could see right into her mind.
"What could I be thinking about? I'm thinking about researching new dishes!" An Yuan'er casually made up an excuse.
Lan Jingtang suddenly reached out and grabbed An Yuan'er's hand: "Little Yuan'er, I don't want you to lie to me."
"You're thinking about him."
Lan Jingtang used an affirmative tone, not a question.
Lan Jingtang's hands were burning hot, just like him; hidden beneath the calm surface was a turbulent undercurrent of suppressed emotions.
An Yuan'er quietly withdrew her hand: "I'm sorry."
This "I'm sorry" seems to have more than one meaning.
This includes An Yuan'er apologizing for lying to him, and also An Yuan'er apologizing for not being able to reciprocate the feelings she had for Lan Jingtang.
Lan Jingtang smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in his voice: "Xiao Yuan'er, you don't need to suppress your emotions towards me. You can think about him without restraint. I know that you can't be happy when he's not around. No matter how I try to cheer you up, your joy doesn't reach your eyes."
He understands her better than she understands herself.
Even though Lan Jingtang didn't say anything, for no apparent reason, tears suddenly welled up uncontrollably.
An Yuan'er lowered her head and cried as she said, "Every autumn before, when many leaves fell, I would take the little eunuch with me to pick them up, dry them, and make them into all sorts of bookmarks for him. Eventually, every book he read had traces of leaf bookmarks."
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