The hem of her dress still bore the dust of Mount Yangquan, and faint tear stains lingered on her peerlessly beautiful face. Barely a quarter of an hour ago, she had spoken in the palace of rescuing Li Ce. Yet now, Ye Jiao stood smiling, her face a picture of innocent bewilderment, as if she no longer recognized him at all.
Li Jing burst into laughter, pointing first at Ye Jiao, then at Li Ce, and jeered, "Well, it's over. She doesn't even recognize you."
But noticing the dismal expressions on both faces, his laughter dwindled. With a forced air of solemnity, he straightened up and said, "Ahem, I shall take my leave." He strode out of the palace, dragging along the young eunuch who had accompanied them.
Li Ce stood against the light, its early winter glow casting a halo on the sharp bridge of his nose. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak — awkward, remorseful — before finally murmuring, "You once asked about my birthday. I'd like to explain—"
"No need," Ye Jiao interrupted coolly. "His Majesty said that Concubine Shun feared sending you to the royal tomb would resemble a sacrifice. So your birthdate was changed. Now the one recorded for the ancestral rites is false and won't shorten your life."
But such reasoning offered only hollow comfort — the punishment Li Ce endured remained unchanged.
"So I thought I was doomed," Li Ce ventured, hoping to explain the reason behind his past refusal of marriage.
Ye Jiao cut him off. "Well now, Your Highness, it seems you'll live a long, long life. Congratulations."
She turned to leave. Li Ce reached out and grasped her sleeve.
His heart was in turmoil — as though fate had granted him one precious gift only to steal away another. What had been given was life; what was taken, no less dear.
"Ye Jiao," he called softly. "I know I was wrong. Is it too late to apologize?"
She turned back, sorrow clouding her gaze, but she did not cry. "So you thought you were dying, and that justified rejecting me? Saying all those cruel things? You didn't explain, didn't confide in me. You just made your decision and walked away from our love."
Li Ce's lips parted. He stepped forward, suppressing the urge to embrace her in the empty corridor of the imperial palace, eyes reddened, and nodded.
Ye Jiao's mouth trembled, as though tears were about to fall — then suddenly she raised her voice and spat, "Too late? The chicken's cooked and now you regret killing it? The house has collapsed and now you want to fix it? It's too late! I tell you, it's too late! Every word you said — I remember them all. And now, I return them to you!"
Drawing a deep breath, she continued with icy clarity, "It's been too long. My heart has changed. Don't doubt it. Accepting that you're no longer loved — it's not that hard."
With a sharp flick of her sleeve, she strode away. Li Ce stood frozen. The chill left by the absence of her sleeve crept from his fingertips to his very soul.
He remained rooted for a long time, until the sky began to release its first flurries of snow.
The season's first snow — so early.
After escorting the Tibetan delegation into the capital, Ye Changgen handed them over to the Ministry of Rites. As Tongdian recorded: "At imperial rites and banquets, Honglu Temple receives and guides the foreign envoys. 'Hong' refers to sound, 'Lu' to transmission — thus, 'Honglu,' transmitters of sound and guides of guests."
Foreign emissaries and tribute-bearing envoys were all received by this institution. The current Minister of Honglu Temple was Wang Xuanyi — a man in his thirties, formerly a translator, fluent in nine foreign tongues. He personally arranged accommodations and meals for the Tibetan envoys and inquired about any special requests.
Most emissaries merely wished for familiar food and lodging. Only Princess Gesang Meiduo of Tibet requested to explore the city and experience the splendor of Tang.
"That is easily arranged," said Wang Xuanyi. "I shall assign a translator to accompany Her Highness, along with a security detail to ensure her safety."
"I speak Tang's refined tongue," replied the veiled princess, her phoenix eyes smiling shyly at Ye Changgen. "And I am unaccustomed to traveling with strangers. If one of the generals who escorted us could accompany me, I would be most grateful."
Her voice was soft as wind — tinged with homesickness and gratitude. Though accustomed to many faces, Wang Xuanyi was still moved by her demeanor. She had not named anyone, yet he understood.
"In that case," he said, bowing to Ye Changgen, "may I trouble the General to accompany Her Highness for the next few days."
"I've just returned," Ye Changgen protested. "The Ministry of War will soon summon me. Better to send a lieutenant."
"That won't do," Wang laughed. "You grew up in Chang'an. If someone unfamiliar with the roads were to lose the princess, our ministry would be blamed, and the empire disgraced."
Cornered, Ye Changgen nodded and took his leave. After a few steps, the princess called softly, "General Ye."
He turned. She stood in the first snow, bowing deeply. "Thank you for your care on the journey."
The golden torc around her neck shimmered, and her sapphire-blue gown trailed like a blooming lotus amidst the snow — elegant, ethereal.
Ye Changgen returned the gesture before striding away.
Home — at last! Half a year gone, he longed for it deeply. How was Mother? His sisters? Were the servants obedient? How fared the family business?
He galloped through the snow, making sure to hide his injuries, straighten his robes, and wipe his face clean.
He had to look neat, composed, and full of life — only then would his mother not worry.
As the evening drums echoed through the streets, Ye Changgen reached a junction and suddenly spotted a woman in a crimson dress, her shoulders wrapped in white fox fur, surrounded by a dozen imperial guards.
She looked familiar.
A closer look — it was Ye Jiao.
They had met briefly on Mount Yangquan, with no time to speak. Now she was surrounded, her expression troubled — and his anger flared.
"Who are you people? How dare you harass my sister?"
He moved to strike when a young man rode up and waved. "General Ye, hold your blade. It's me — remember?"
"Commander Bai," Ye Changgen glared, still worried for his sister. "What law did my sister break that she's being dragged around like this?"
Ye Jiao had already ridden up, crossing her arms with a smile. Just earlier, she had quarreled fiercely with Li Ce. Now, seeing her brother, she felt both aggrieved and elated.
Bai Xianyu put on a bitter face. "General, please inquire properly. Your sister is now the Chief Marshal of Chang'an — my superior. We're not dragging her — we're escorting her, honoring her, welcoming her back from the imperial street!"
Ye Changgen looked at Ye Jiao in shock. She blinked her peach blossom eyes, raised a hand, and issued crisp orders to the guards.
"You two, maintain order at Daxingshan Temple. You three — patrol Changming Temple. And you, you, and you — head to the East Market. Check if the turtles released into the mercy pond yesterday are still alive. If anyone's releasing venomous snakes again, arrest them on the spot!"
"Yes, ma'am!" the guards answered in thunderous unison and swiftly turned their steeds to carry out the commands.
The precision of her orders and the resolute obedience stunned Ye Changgen. How had the city's guards come under her command in just half a year?
And the truly shocking part — she commanded them brilliantly.
Bai Xianyu gestured toward the dispersing guards. "See? Told you so."
Ye Jiao had already turned to bark her next command. "Captain Bai, with the commander of the imperial guards punished by His Majesty, you must take extra care with security these next few days…"