Chapter Ninety-Five: It Is Very Late

It should have been a birthday, yet such an event occurred so suddenly. This year’s celebration would no longer bear the serenity it once did.

Shen Nanyuan knew that Shen Yi had done his utmost. He had always wished for her to live freely, unfettered by the constraints of propriety, to do whatever her heart desired. Yet imperial decrees could not be defied; the emperor feared the Duke Protector’s household, and sending her into the palace as a hostage was inevitable, carved in stone, beyond alteration.

Perhaps, today atop the city wall, the Second Prince’s meaningful gaze had already signaled this fate—her entrance into the palace had no room for negotiation.

To defy the imperial command was a capital offense. The Duke Protector’s household had always been loyal and steadfast, yet still incurred the monarch’s suspicion, a chilling reality.

Shen Nanyuan had thought the emperor truly trusted Shen Yi, but clearly, that was not the case.

A lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to speak. She clenched her hands tightly, her knuckles pale. “Father, it’s not your fault.”

Her voice was hoarse. “This was never something I could escape.”

Though she had altered the fate of the Duke Protector’s household from what was written in the original tale, she herself remained ensnared in the mire. Once she entered the palace, her life would be confined within its walls, never to escape.

And she would have to face a man she had never loved.

In the end, Xiao Yan would return to the palace, reclaim power from the Second Prince. When the Second Prince fell, all those around him would be implicated and destroyed. What would become of her then?

The Duke Protector’s household would shield her from death, but with two years yet before Xiao Yan ascended the throne, how would she endure those years?

She realized she had merely leapt from one abyss into another swamp.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

Shen Sinian clenched his fists. “Father, is there truly no way out?”

Shen Yi paused, his tightly held hands loosening slightly. After a moment, he shook his head gently.

Silence settled.

The outcome was known.

Ever since she accepted the decree, Shen Nanyuan had understood there was nowhere to run.

She had struggled to help herself and the Duke Protector’s household change their fate, dreaming one day of living as she pleased, unbound by the capital. Yet all had been but a fantasy.

With Xiao Yan’s return to the palace imminent, her path was utterly blocked by this predicament.

Numbness and desolation filled her heart.

In this place, in this era, women had no voice, let alone a say in their own marriages.

Shen Yi truly cherished his daughter, wishing for her not to be bound by etiquette, not to be used in a family alliance—already an extraordinary kindness.

Shen Nanyuan let out a long, weary breath, forcing a smile. “It’s all right, Father. I know you’ve done everything you could. The wedding date isn’t set yet; perhaps something will happen and the engagement will be annulled.”

She smiled, continuing, “When soldiers come, we confront them; when water rises, we dam it. If I must enter the palace, I won’t let myself suffer. With the Duke Protector’s household behind me, surely no one will dare bully me.”

“Please don’t worry.”

Though she spoke bravely, confusion and pain still swirled uncontrollably within her.

Shen Sinian’s eyes were dark, tinged with sympathy.

The news of the emperor’s bestowed marriage would spread tomorrow; everyone would know the Second Prince was about to become the Crown Prince.

The situation was settled, unchangeable.

—

Shen Nanyuan did not return to Shaohua Courtyard until deep into the night. The news of her imperial marriage had already swept through the Duke Protector’s household. Qingrui and Jinzhu had waited in the courtyard for ages before finally seeing Shen Sinian escort her back.

The two hurried forward, eyes rimmed in red, softly calling, “Miss.”

Shen Sinian stood at the entrance of Shaohua Courtyard, his voice gentle. “Go inside and rest early. Don’t let your thoughts run wild.”

By now... midnight had surely passed.

Today was Shen Nanyuan’s birthday.

Yet he could not bring himself to say “happy birthday.” The words hovered on his lips, but he never uttered them. He merely stroked Shen Nanyuan’s head tenderly, then turned away, his figure slowly vanishing into the darkness.

Shen Nanyuan walked into the courtyard. On either side were small red lanterns, suffusing the air with a festive glow—likely prepared by Qingrui and the others for her birthday.

Jinzhu followed, her eyes reddened as she exchanged a glance with Qingrui. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke softly.

“Miss, we’ve prepared water for your bath. Would you like to wash now?”

Shen Nanyuan responded, her voice drifting faintly through the air, tightening Qingrui’s heart as she watched her mistress’s frail silhouette, nose prickling with sadness.

They had thought that after breaking free from Jun Ci, their mistress could finally live joyfully. Never did they expect the palace, that devouring place, would engulf her.

Qingrui spoke gently, “Miss, would you like some candied fruit? Shall I bring it to you?”

“No,” Shen Nanyuan pressed her brow, exhausted. “I just want to bathe and rest early.”

So very weary.

Today, of all the days since she arrived in this world, left her body and mind utterly fatigued.

Her gaze flickered toward the distant side room, pitch-dark within. Xiao Yan must have retired already.

It was late.

She too was exhausted.

—

In the Prime Minister’s residence, Xiao Yan’s figure was half-shrouded in darkness. The Prime Minister could not make out his outline, only feel a chill seeping into every pore, making him shudder involuntarily.

The youth who had once seemed frail now appeared transformed, sometimes sending tremors through those around him.

The nobility and presence that he usually concealed were now laid bare, a storm of hostility overwhelming, as if he were barely holding onto reason. His voice was low, cold as a brewing tempest.

“The emperor has bestowed marriage upon Gu Shengyu and Shen Nanyuan.”

The Prime Minister, suppressed by the aura, could not lift his head. “I’ve just learned of it.”

Xiao Yan rarely visited the Prime Minister’s residence, usually communicating through guards. Today, he had barged in unannounced, his face shadowed, brows fierce, terrifying the Prime Minister, who understood immediately why he had come.

He favored Shen Nanyuan; the Prime Minister had always known this. Upon hearing the emperor’s decree, his first thought was that the times were about to change.

The emperor might be preparing to make the Second Prince heir apparent.

If they did not enter the palace soon, it would be too late for anything.

The Prime Minister said, “Your Highness, tomorrow I will take you to the palace. Perhaps we can still salvage things.”

Xiao Yan paused briefly, stepping forward. His eyes were pitch-black, brimming with hostility in the night. His fingers were clenched so tightly that veins bulged across the back of his hand.

He was enveloped in a chill, the air thick with tension.