Chapter Thirty: Losing Courage

Because of her previous two visits, the third time Princess Danqing went under the guise of the Empress to deliver medicine for wounds, she felt even more at ease.

But this time, just as she reached the side hall’s entrance, she saw a graceful figure clad in cloud-blue slip in ahead. Guli paused, recognizing at once who it was.

“Princess…”

Jasmine behind her clearly recognized the figure as well. She raised her eyes, wanting to speak but stopping, gazing at her princess’s pale face, her heart aching.

“It’s nothing. Let’s go in and have a look.” Guli steadied herself, entering the side hall as if nothing were amiss.

When she reached the corridor, she did not step inside but instead went to the open window, peering in at an angle.

She saw General Chang’an sitting at the table, seemingly reading memorials. The slanting rays of the evening sun gilded his face, outlining him in gold. Guli couldn’t see his expression clearly, only noticed his thin lips pressed together in silence, not responding to anyone.

Princess Jian’an at his side seemed unconcerned by his cold demeanor. She took the nourishing soup from the maid and placed it on the table, then said something—her fair neck was tinged with blush.

General Chang’an’s expression seemed to soften, and he spoke a few words. Princess Jian’an laughed lightly.

Guli saw it all clearly, and her heart sank.

She clutched her handkerchief tightly, standing at the window, watching this tender scene between them, suddenly losing all courage to enter.

What was the point?

They were truly a pair in love. Each time she came so eagerly, what did it mean? Did he find her tiresome, but unable to say so because she was a princess, forced to treat her with polite distance every time?

Guli felt like a joke. She had always been proud and willful—whatever she liked, she pursued, and from childhood onward, nothing had been denied her. Yet she knew propriety and the order of things.

Though she genuinely liked Lie Chang’an, he and Jian’an had fallen for each other first. Even though she had never liked Jian’an, she would never stoop to snatching her sister’s man—such disgrace was beneath her.

Guli had her own pride and dignity, which would not allow her to beg for what was not hers.

Her eyes reddened slightly. She gazed deeply at the man in the deep blue robe inside, and at the woman opposite him in cloud-blue gauze, so well matched just by sitting together—as if created for each other.

She did not linger any longer, turning to leave.

“Princess.”

Jasmine saw clearly that her mistress was truly heartbroken this time, and hurried after her.

“Princess, shall we not deliver it?”

“No need.” Guli did not turn, nor pause her steps, only spoke softly, “There’s no need to bring it again.”

“General Chang’an?”

Inside, seeing him keep glancing toward the door as he spoke, Jian’an frowned and asked softly, “Is the general waiting for someone?”

“No.” Lie Chang’an shook his head. “Your Highness, I appreciate your kindness. As for this soup, Her Majesty the Empress has sent many recently. Please take it back.”

“It’s only a bowl of soup, and I made it myself.”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you for your kindness.”

Precisely because it was made by her, he would not accept it.

Having said this, Lie Chang’an resumed reading his memorials, clearly adopting the attitude of seeing her out.

Jian’an could not press him further. Though he always kept others at arm’s length, she greeted him with a smile each time, confident that in time she could melt his icy exterior and reach the warmth within.

After Princess Jian’an left, Lie Chang’an could no longer keep up his façade.

He set aside the memorials, gazing at the empty doorway bathed in the last light of sunset, and sighed softly.

Another day had passed, yet she never came again.