Chapter Thirty-Six: Eyes and Brows Like a Painting

An awkward atmosphere lingered in the air. Gu Li stole a glance at the man beside her. His eyes were lowered, and the dappled light through the branches cast shifting shadows across his handsome face, obscuring his expression. Yet, for some reason, he seemed cloaked in sorrow.

Gu Li bit her lip. “Chang’an.”

Lie Chang’an lifted his gaze. Suppressed joy flickered in his ink-dark eyes, but his face remained calm and unruffled. “Yes.”

“Isn’t it strange for me to call you that?” she asked softly. Though they had agreed to address each other in this way, Gu Li couldn’t help but feel it was too familiar, too intimate—she was embarrassed to say it aloud.

“No,” he replied. He liked it.

“Alright.” Gu Li nodded, falling silent, at a loss for further words.

“Tomorrow we’ll be able to leave the mountain,” he said. “At the foot, there’s a small village with an inn.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

This was good news indeed. In the palace, she could only fall asleep after bathing in scented petals and changing into fresh clothes every night. Now it had been three or four days since she’d changed—though she wiped herself down daily with a damp cloth, she still felt uncomfortable.

At last, in the inn, she would be able to take a hot bath.

Lie Chang’an noticed the brightness in her eyes, and a smile unconsciously touched his lips. “We can also order a few good dishes then. You’ll finally get a proper meal.”

Gu Li smiled, her nerves easing at the thought of good food and drink awaiting her the next day. Perhaps it was this comfort that let her sleep so soundly that night, despite the lumpy bedding—she passed a dreamless night until dawn.

The next morning, they set out early and reached the inn by afternoon. The prince arranged for the carriages, secured three of the best rooms, and had a meal prepared.

Jasmine, well aware the princess would be eager, quickly fetched hot water and led the maids in retrieving their luggage from the carriage.

Both the prince and General Chang’an enjoyed long, comfortable baths. When they reappeared, refreshed and properly dressed, Gu Li was not yet ready, so they went downstairs to order food and wait.

Since they were traveling and wished to keep a low profile, Gu Li didn’t spend too much time dressing. After bathing and washing her hair, she donned a pale mauve riding outfit, applied a touch of powder, and emerged.

At the sound of footsteps, Lie Chang’an looked up towards the stairs. She had changed into a delicate lotus-colored riding dress after her bath; her slender waist and graceful bearing complemented her painted brows and eyes. Her hair was gathered simply in a flying-immortal bun, adorned casually with a few plump, lustrous pearls and a single emerald hairpin, so green it seemed on the verge of dew.

Lie Chang’an calmly withdrew his gaze, but his fingers tightened slightly around his teacup.

“I’m starving—I can finally have a proper meal,” Gu Li declared as she sat beside the prince, eagerly taking up her chopsticks to begin eating.

The prince couldn’t help but tap her forehead lightly, his tone indulgent yet helpless. “You really are lacking in a young lady’s manners.”

At his words, Gu Li looked toward the man across the table. His expression remained unchanged—calm as still water.

Unbidden, Gu Li thought of the poised Princess Zhen’an. Compared to her own unruly, unrefined ways, the difference was as stark as heaven and earth.

She dared not dwell on it further—otherwise she’d lose her appetite for this long-awaited meal. For once, she did not retort but simply smiled, lowered her head, and ate quietly, her manners much improved.

This inn was the only one in the small village, and being on a key route between several towns, its business was brisk. The main hall was packed, a gathering place for all sorts of wanderers and adventurers, with gossip and news flowing freely.

“Waiter, a pot of wine and a few more side dishes, please.”

The clear, melodious voice, sweet as an oriole’s song, rang out. Even Gu Li, a woman herself, couldn’t help but turn to look.