For three days after that, Yueyang didn’t see a trace of the Drunken Cat Imperial Lady.

Little panda Niunu, on the other hand, was thoroughly occupied — she and the mischievous Yue Shuang had found each other and were having the time of their lives. By evening, both of them had abandoned any pretense of good behavior and climbed straight into Yueyang’s bed, curling up on either side of him and snoring contentedly. Yueyang found himself enjoying a stretch of quiet days he hadn’t known since the very beginning — before everything had become so complicated. Mornings were spent running wild with the two little girls, and in the midst of all that play he found himself slipping in lessons without either of them noticing, the kind that never made it into any classroom. Some afternoons he wandered into the kitchen to help Fourth Mother wash vegetables or hack apart a soup bone, which invariably resulted in Fourth Mother chasing him back out — but he kept coming back, and couldn’t have explained why, except that he wanted to.

His most outrageous contribution to the household was carrying in a large basin of warm water one afternoon and, with Yue Shuang solemnly at his side, announcing that they were going to wash Fourth Mother’s feet.

He called it a lesson in filial piety.

Fourth Mother protested. They persisted. She eventually ran out of objections and gave in.

And so there they were — Yueyang on one side, the small girl on the other, washing Fourth Mother’s feet for the first time in their lives.

Fourth Mother smiled the whole time, and cried the whole time. When she saw little Yue Shuang — red-faced, soaked to the elbows, working herself into a proper sweat over the task and refusing to stop no matter what — she couldn’t hold it together anymore. She pulled the little girl into her arms and wept openly.

In the shadow of the far wall, the Drunken Cat Imperial Lady stood and watched for a long time.

Then she slipped away without a sound.

Yue Bing returned not long after, with Xue Wuxia and Princess Qianqian accompanying her.

She still didn’t know the ancient rune had been left there for her specifically. She came bounding up to her brother, eyes shining, to report that the two sisters-in-law had helped her absorb the rune’s energy, and her cultivation had broken through to a whole new level. She felt slightly guilty about it, as though she’d taken something that should have been his — after all, if her brother needed to absorb ancient runes too, she couldn’t just fall further and further behind; helping draw in the surrounding rune energy was the least she could do.

That was progress too, wasn’t it?

That was exactly how Bing’er’s mind worked. Which was precisely why Yueyang hadn’t told her the truth — because if she ever found out the Ancient Forest rune had been held in reserve for her all along, she would have refused it outright, probably while apologizing at great length.

“Something’s not quite right here.” Princess Qianqian’s six senses were sharper than most, and she looked at Yueyang with one brow arched.

“Nothing’s not right.” Yueyang broke into a mild sweat.

“Have you been hiding something from us?” Xue Wuxia smiled at him — which was, in its way, more dangerous than an accusation. She had the Book of Truth; one look at Yueyang and she could already sense the shape of things. She was only playing along with Qianqian.

“I’d need a water tank’s worth of courage to even try,” Yueyang said quickly, projecting the wholesome energy of someone who performs anonymous good deeds and asks for nothing in return.

“The problem,” said Princess Qianqian, “is that your courage is roughly the size of the sky.”

“Brother. Honesty is the best policy,” Yue Bing said, delighted to join in.

Yueyang adopted the expression of a man backed into a corner by circumstances entirely beyond his control. “Since it’s come to this, I may as well confess — I agreed to their plan for a formal ceremony. Three months from now, as it happens. I was alone, outnumbered by those old foxes, completely outmaneuvered. I had no choice but to surrender.”

“Brother! Congratulations!” Yue Bing’s happiness was completely genuine, and she turned immediately to offer Qianqian and Wuxia her warmest wishes.

“Does this mean wedding sweets?” Yue Shuang, whose understanding of marriage began and ended with the confectionery involved, was already starting to drool. “Are there going to be lots of wedding sweets?”

“What do you know about anything, you little creature — go away.” Yue Bing tried to sound stern.

In truth, her own understanding of what marriage actually meant wasn’t much more developed. It had simply never been something she’d thought about — she was too busy training, too busy chasing after her brother’s heels. But she knew this: once her brother was properly married, the sisters-in-law would be formally, rightfully part of the family. Was that so different from how things already were, though? They all lived and trained together now.

Bing’er didn’t think about it too hard. The elders wanted it, it was good for her brother, and that was enough.

As for Xue Wuxia and Princess Qianqian — they’d caught wind of something beforehand, but hearing it stated plainly still sent a flush spreading across both their faces.

Wuxia recovered first, gave a quiet nod, and composed herself.

Qianqian, however — whether because he’d agreed without asking her opinion, or because he’d said it aloud in front of everyone without giving her a moment’s warning — drew back her fist and punched him. Solidly.

“Who said I agreed to marry you?“

Yueyang caught her fist. “Qianqian, you think you’re getting away?”

Qianqian’s face went from pink to scarlet, all the way down her neck. She glared at him with profound indignation. “There are children watching! Let go!”

Yue Bing covered her eyes with both hands and announced: “I see nothing, I know nothing…”

Yue Shuang was less cooperative. She watched through the gaps between her fingers, then dissolved into laughter: “I saw it! Brother was going to kiss Qianqian-jie! I’m telling Mama! Ha ha ha—”

Before she could make good on the threat, Yue Bing swooped in and scooped her up bodily, fighting to keep her own face straight: “You hush, there was no kissing, stop making things up. — Oh, I almost forgot, I brought candied fruit. And if you’re not interested, I’ll give it all to Niunu.”

“I want it! I want all of it! Maybe I’ll share a little with Niunu — Jiejie you’re the best Jiejie ever!” Yue Shuang performed an immediate and total reversal of loyalties.

Qianqian, who had in fact just been very thoroughly kissed despite all protests, gave Yueyang a look of profound exasperation.

What did a proud young swordswoman look like with color high on her cheeks, equal parts flustered and annoyed, with a trace of something soft and girlish underneath it all? Yueyang couldn’t have put it into words. He only knew that this version of Qianqian — this tiger-girl in rouge — had never, in all the time he’d known her, looked more completely adorable.

He burst out laughing. Which naturally drove Qianqian past her limit, and she bit him.

Xue Wuxia stood quietly at his other side.

She watched him — her beloved, impossible man — with a still and steady gaze.

She never needed to reach for him. She only had to wait, just a moment, and he would always turn and find her.

Just as, no matter how many bright and capable women gathered around him, he would never truly forget that she was here, waiting. Because of fate, because of the thread between them — she had long since stopped expecting to have him to herself. But she knew that beside him, there would always be a place that was hers. Just as, in the deepest part of him, there would always be a place that was hers.

Yueyang turned. His lips touched hers — a breath, a whisper of contact.

In that gentlest of kisses, everything they hadn’t said passed between them.

Everything.

“Honestly, it’s infuriating,” Qianqian muttered, watching. “He’s so tender with Wuxia, and with me he’s completely different.” Not that she’d trade her version of things, if she were being honest — being swept up and kissed against her will suited her own nature in ways she wasn’t going to examine too closely. But watching him look at Wuxia like that — she couldn’t let it go without comment.

“Come on then, Qianqian — let me make it up to you.” Yueyang produced his most shameless expression and moved as if to pull her in.

“As if I’d want that!” She swung at him.

This time he was ready. He deflected the punch, stepped inside her guard, and kissed her anyway — chest to chest, cheek to cheek, not letting go until she bit down hard enough to actually hurt.

“Little ones, look away,” Yue Bing said, laughing, and covered Yue Shuang’s eyes.

“It’s just kissing, what’s the big deal, I kiss Brother every day,” Yue Shuang said loftily, and immediately climbed Yueyang to demonstrate, smacking two loud, enthusiastic kisses onto his cheek with the complete unselfconsciousness of a small child. The whole room dissolved into laughter.

In the far corner of the courtyard, a shadow flickered.

And just barely — almost too soft to catch — the sound of someone trying very hard not to laugh.

That evening, Yueyang and Yue Shuang carried out the basin again.

The moment Yue Bing understood what was happening, her eyes went red.

She had never, in all her life, washed her mother’s feet. Not once.

She pushed forward before she’d consciously decided to move, wedging herself between her brother and her little sister, and started pouring water over Fourth Mother’s feet with trembling hands, crying openly, her soft young face blurred with tears she didn’t try to stop.

It was enough to stop Xue Wuxia and Princess Qianqian completely still.

They stood and stared.

After a long moment, Wuxia was the first to come back to herself. She glanced at Qianqian, gave a small nod, and quietly knelt down. She took the towel from Yueyang’s hands and began, gently, to dry Fourth Mother’s feet.

Qianqian hesitated a little longer. She watched Fourth Mother — who had pulled little Yue Shuang up onto her lap, face wet, barely holding herself together — and then she looked at Yueyang, who nodded once. She lowered herself slowly to the ground, took Yue Shuang’s place with hands that weren’t quite steady, and said nothing at all.

Yue Bing was crying too hard to speak. Her movements were clumsy, excessively careful, as though she was afraid of using even the slightest force — afraid that if she pressed too hard, she would somehow do it wrong.

In the shadows of the far wall, the Drunken Cat Imperial Lady had both hands pressed over her face.

She didn’t make a sound.

But she had been crying for a long time.

The next morning, Xue Wuxia and Princess Qianqian both came to say their goodbyes.

“I just want to go check on things,” Qianqian said, in a tone that invited no commentary whatsoever. “Don’t read anything into it. I have absolutely no feelings of missing that old man.” The words were for Yueyang only. In front of anyone else, she had long since stopped being the stubborn girl who refused to forgive her father — the battles of these past years had done something to her, settled something in her chest. If she didn’t go to him now, one more great war might take him away forever, and she’d lose the chance entirely.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Yueyang looked at Qianqian, then at Wuxia.

“Next time,” Wuxia said. She gave him a brief, warm embrace, and murmured into his ear: “The interrogation resumes when we return. Don’t think for a moment that you fooled anyone yesterday.”

Qianqian, meanwhile, was enduring her own farewell with the maximum possible indignation.

“Don’t — don’t touch me—” She struggled. Yueyang held on. Yue Bing and Yue Shuang covered their eyes with their hands — though both of them were watching through the gaps — which Qianqian found approximately ten times more mortifying than the embrace itself. Was he trying to set a bad example?

“Your Highness,” Yueyang said seriously, “where I come from, the traditional greeting is a hug and a kiss.”

“How come you never hug Sea Fatty?” Qianqian asked, with devastating logic.

“Obviously the traditional greeting only applies to beautiful women.”

“And whose tradition is that, exactly?”

“He invented it himself,” Wuxia said. She understood him best.

“Fine, then I’m inventing one too — from now on, anyone who tries that greeting gets beaten.” Qianqian cocked her fist. This time Yueyang was already moving; he caught her arm, stepped in close, and kissed her properly, face to face, arms around her, until she bit his lip hard enough to actually make him wince.

“Children shouldn’t watch,” Yue Bing announced, laughing, covering Yue Shuang’s eyes.

“It’s just kissing,” Yue Shuang said, entirely unimpressed. “I kiss Brother all the time.” And she swarmed up his side and planted two spectacular, resonant kisses on his cheek to prove her point, the pure and total confidence of a child who has never once doubted her welcome.

The whole courtyard laughed.

In the corner of the wall, a shadow appeared.

And vanished.

Somewhere in its wake, a laugh — quickly stifled, barely contained, but unmistakably there.