Gao Yuexing had walked herself into a loop.
She had always been unable to figure out one thing—how, in her previous life, at the tender and ignorant age of six, barely capable of recognizing a few characters, she had ended up forming a connection with Li Fuxiang, who was imprisoned in the Xiaonan Pavilion.
Gao Yuexing had once been deeply troubled by her three years of lost memories, but as over a decade slipped by like flowing water, the tranquility of her present life gradually allowed her to let go of the past.
Yet, life always enjoys playing tricks on people.
When Gao Yuexing no longer clung to that matter, those sealed-off memories suddenly loosened like the cork of a bottle in an instant and unintentionally spilled out from the depths of her dreams.
This year, as winter set in, Li Fuxiang fell ill again following the arrival of the snow.
Gao Yuexing, staying by his side, slept restlessly.
The wind and snow carried old acquaintances into her dreams.
Gao Yuexing saw herself at the age of six.
It was still the time when Consort Xian had summoned Madam Gao to the palace and requested that the second daughter of the Gao family enter the palace as a study companion for the princess.
The red walls and green tiles of the imperial palace appeared to Gao Yuexing as though shrouded in a layer of dull gray. She found nothing beautiful about it, nor anything to be happy about, because the third prince, Li Fuyuo, had reached a level of tormenting her that made her both annoyed and fearful.
The wound on her earlobe was still covered in thick medicinal powder, and she didn’t know if it would leave a scar in the future.
Li Fuyuo seemed to have discovered some sort of new amusement—the more frightened Gao Yuexing was, the more excited he became. Every day during lessons at Wenhua Pavilion, he found ways to bully and oppress her. Eventually, one day, something even worse happened. He tricked her into going out and abandoned her outside the infamous, supposedly haunted Xiaonan Pavilion in the middle of the night.
Gao Yuexing was so terrified by the distant, drifting female ghost that she cowered in panic, running like a frightened mouse. Her petite figure collided headfirst into a dirt pit beneath the palace wall of the Xiaonan Pavilion.
The semi-enclosed pit gave her a strong sense of security. She hugged herself tightly and huddled inside, not daring to move.
Until someone lightly patted her shoulder.
Gao Yuexing dumbly lifted her head, meeting a half-mask shaped like a ghostly face. The mask was vividly painted with heavy strokes, featuring a pair of cat-like eyes. Gao Yuexing’s fragile nerves snapped completely, and she fainted on the spot, unconscious.
When she woke up again, Gao Yuexing was lying in the drafty east side hall of the Xiaonan Pavilion, occupying the narrow bed that belonged to Li Fuxiang. The sky had not yet fully brightened, and the desolate Xiaonan Pavilion looked eerie and exceptionally quiet.
For the first time, Gao Yuexing realized that such places existed within the imperial palace.
Beside her pillow, the half-ghost mask sat silently, watching over her. When Gao Yuexing looked at it again, it seemed far less frightening. She climbed off the bed and opened the door of the east side hall. That was the first time she truly saw Li Fuxiang.
The boy was dressed in even thinner clothing than hers, squatting by the well and fetching water to wash his face.
Li Fuxiang, who had a fondness for cleanliness, used a white cotton towel to dry his face. Then he tucked his frostbitten red fingers into his sleeves to warm them. When he saw Gao Yuexing come out, he curiously examined her.
Of course, Gao Yuexing was also silently observing him.
When Li Fuxiang broke a piece of pastry in half and handed some to her, Gao Yuexing’s goodwill toward him instantly shot through the roof like climbing a ladder to the heavens.
She clung to this place and didn’t want to leave.
Li Fuxiang held her hand and brought her to the dirt pit by the wall, pointing at it to indicate that she should go out.
But Gao Yuexing stubbornly refused to leave, insisting that she would stay at the Xiaonan Pavilion no matter what.
At that time, the mute maid had already been serving in the palace for two years.
In the courtyard of the Xiaonan Pavilion, where Li Fuxiang lived, only the kittens sent in by Xu Zhaoyi were there to keep him company.
At first, Gao Yuexing would occasionally chat with Li Fuxiang about trivial matters, but Li Fuxiang never responded. Gradually, she realized something and became silent as well. Even so, she refused to leave the Xiaonan Pavilion, despite the chaos her disappearance had caused outside.
At night, they squeezed onto the same small bed, sharing a single cotton quilt for warmth.
Gao Yuexing, still shaken from her earlier fright, had difficulty sleeping and often stayed awake until dawn with her eyes wide open. Li Fuxiang, on the other hand, slept soundly. When it got cold in the middle of the night, he unconsciously leaned closer to Gao Yuexing. As Gao Yuexing closed her eyes, she caught the clean and refreshing scent of soapwort on him, which inexplicably brought her some peace.
That year, the transition from autumn to winter was so cold. Yet, even as Gao Yuexing shivered in the Xiaonan Pavilion, she refused to return to the wealth and luxury of the grand and imposing central halls.
A living, breathing person had disappeared from the imperial palace without a trace, neither alive nor dead. Not only did Consort Xian grow increasingly restless, but the matter soon alarmed the Emperor.
The situation escalated, and Gao Yuexing’s family could no longer keep it hidden.
Gao Jing entered the palace overnight.
The palace was thoroughly searched for several days and nights. Wells and rivers were even dredged in search of her.
The entire palace had been scoured, except for the Xiaonan Pavilion.
The imperial guards dared not act without orders. After seeking the Emperor’s approval, Ding Wenfu led people to open the gates of the palace that had been sealed for a full ten years.
Gao Yuexing was to be taken away.
The imperial guards acted firmly but cautiously, lifting her up and carrying her out.
Gao Yuexing reached out her hand toward Li Fuxiang.
Li Fuxiang stood at the doorway, coldly watching, but he didn’t offer her any response.
He knew he couldn’t keep her. He couldn’t keep anything.
The crabapple -patterned handkerchief in Gao Yuexing’s sleeve slipped out, carried by the wind. It mixed with the withered yellow leaves scattered on the ground and was blown to Li Fuxiang’s feet.
The moment the palace gates closed again, he couldn’t help but lower his head to pick up the handkerchief. Then he pulled off the pendant he had worn for ten years and rushed forward, tying it around Gao Yuexing’s finger.
Li Fuxiang, who had broken the rules by crossing the palace gates, was dragged back by the imperial guards and punished with the court’s staff. Gao Yuexing watched helplessly as he was struck down to the ground. His back took a few heavy blows, and he immediately curled up, choking and coughing up a mouthful of blood.
The small bronze fox pendant.
The long-lost keepsake of Noble Consort Zheng, missing for ten years, was now wrapped around Gao Yuexing’s finger and brought back before the Emperor.
The Emperor took the pendant and personally went to the Xiaonan Pavilion to meet Li Fuxiang.
Li Fuxiang’s eyebrows and eyes—if the Emperor had only taken a single proper look—would have revealed a resemblance that could not be ignored.
In the past life, the case of Li Fuxiang’s parentage was overturned by Gao Jing, the Minister of the Court of Justice, clearing his long-standing grievances.
What happened after was not much different.
Li Fuyuo was punished by the Emperor.
Gao Yuexing stayed by Li Fuxiang’s side from the age of six to nine, spending three years without a single worry.
At that time, the young Gao Yuexing still didn’t understand the ways of the world, and it was Li Fuxiang who quietly worked in the background to protect her.
But in the end, he couldn’t protect her completely.
The trajectories of their past and present lives, separated by an entire world, overlapped once more.
When Gao Yuexing was playing alone by the river, she overheard something she shouldn’t have. She suffered persecution and barely survived, terrified. Her subconscious drove her to shrink into herself like a turtle retreating into its shell, decisively discarding all the beautiful memories she once had.
Cowardice couldn’t protect her.
Her constant retreating step by step only forced her into a dead end and did nothing to restrain the other side in the slightest.
Gao Yuexing opened her eyes from the long dream. She turned her head and saw Li Fuxiang’s peaceful sleeping face beside her.
She raised her hand and touched her eyes, already damp with tears.
Then, she pressed her face against Li Fuxiang’s neck.
Just like in the dream of her childhood, when Li Fuxiang clung to her, seeking warmth.
In her previous life, Gao Yuexing had used that small handful of warmth to deceive Li Fuxiang into giving her his entire life’s devotion.
Gao Yuexing whispered softly into his ear, “I barged into your home without a word, took over your bed, stole your snacks, and in the end, I just forgot you as if it were nothing… What on earth did you see in me?”
Li Fuxiang, burning with fever in his unconscious state, of course, didn’t respond to her.
As Gao Yuexing leaned against him, a crystal-clear tear hung from her lashes. Suddenly, she heard someone softly call her name.
“Ah Xing…”
Gao Yuexing’s entire body trembled.
She hurriedly lifted her head, looking in the direction of the voice, only to be dazzled by a mountain covered with blooming crabapple flowers.
Was this another dream?
How strange dreams could be—clearly, it was the deep winter of a snow-covered mountain, yet half the slope was uncharacteristically adorned with blooming crabapple flowers.
Fixing her gaze, she saw a blood-stained figure under the shadow of the flowers not far away.
The severely injured and battered Li Fuxiang, fresh from the battlefield, was an unshakable nightmare in her heart.
A crabapple petal drifted down and gently landed on the tip of her nose.
Li Fuxiang, covered in blood, was holding the hand of a meticulously dressed little girl. Gao Yuexing recognized her—it was her nine-year-old self.
As Gao Yuexing stumbled closer, Li Fuxiang looked at her and spoke: “You died during the first snowfall of that year. I didn’t make it back in time to see you one last time. It’s always been a thorn lodged in my heart… So every year, when it snows, I can’t help but come back to see you.”
Gao Yuexing had trapped herself in the year she was nine, unable to break free.
Likewise, Li Fuxiang had trapped himself in that first snowfall, year after year, in places unseen by Gao Yuexing, unable to let himself go.
Gao Yuexing reached out her hand but couldn’t touch them.
Her fingertips passed through their bodies, cold as running water.
He smiled and stepped back, saying, “I’ve come to say goodbye. We’re leaving.”
Real farewells are always free of unnecessary words.
Gao Yuexing withdrew from the dream of crabapple flowers, her tears flowing freely down Li Fuxiang’s neck and seeping into his collar.
Li Fuxiang’s fever broke.
After several doses of medicine had no effect, he suddenly woke up in a single moment, as if by some unseen force.
His eyes were bright and clear, devoid of any gloom or weariness.
In his eyes, Gao Yuexing saw herself.
In recent years, many people had said that she had changed.
Among them were the princess, her eldest sister, and even her own mother, Madam Gao.
Gao Yuexing herself could faintly feel it too—that heaviness she had carried in her youth was gradually fading away.
It was as though something unspeakable had quietly dissipated from the world along with it.
The past cannot be held onto.
Gao Yuexing embraced Li Fuxiang tightly, leaned against his neck, and murmured softly: “You were right back then, my home is where you are.”
Today, there is nothing left to trouble me.