Chapter 96: Never Looking Back

The prime minister’s back was slightly hunched, and under such an intense gaze, beads of cold sweat began to form on his forehead.

“You are the legitimate eldest son. If you return to the palace, everything as it stands now may be redefined. While His Majesty has yet to name a crown prince, you must return at once.”

“With Her Majesty the Empress and myself present, there is still room to maneuver.”

It had always been his plan to return to the palace tomorrow, but he had not anticipated such a sudden turn of events.

Xiao Yan’s eyes were like unfathomable abysses, dark and brooding. The aura around him grew ever colder and fiercer, a deepening crimson shadow gathering in his gaze.

—

Shen Nanyuan frowned slightly.

In her dreams, she felt as if someone were staring at her intently, a deep gaze that seemed strangely familiar, enveloping her entirely. Yet she sensed no hostility from this presence.

All she felt was an intense possessiveness.

She opened her eyes abruptly to find daylight already pouring in. The watching gaze had vanished without a trace. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her aching temples.

Her sleep had been restless, leaving her weary even upon waking.

News of the imperial betrothal had already spread far and wide. Everyone knew, with silent understanding, that the Second Prince was likely to be named crown prince, and so they flocked to the State Duke’s Residence to offer their congratulations. Today was also Shen Nanyuan’s birthday, and the nobility and ministers had sent an abundance of gifts.

She had expected it to be a joyful day of receiving presents, but now she felt no desire to go anywhere, wishing only for a quiet day in Shaohua Courtyard.

But fate seldom aligns with one’s wishes. A servant appeared outside the courtyard, bowing politely. “Miss, Young Master Jun is in the garden. He wishes to see you.”

…

Shen Nanyuan had intended to ask how he entered the State Duke’s Residence, but then recalled the officials visiting to offer birthday wishes and surmised that Jun Ci had likely come with the Minister of Revenue.

She remembered how, last time, he had refused to leave the gates until he saw her, and she pressed her forehead, replying, “Understood.”

How had Jun Ci become so persistent?

His character had completely unraveled, now nothing like the person in the original story.

But by now, no matter how relentless he was, it would make no difference.

—

Shen Nanyuan made her way to the garden, which was quite expansive, immediately spotting Jun Ci standing within the pavilion. He looked even more haggard than the last time, clutching a scroll tightly in his hands, unable to sit still, pacing anxiously.

There were few people in the garden. Qingrui followed closely behind Shen Nanyuan and whispered, “Miss, please do not speak with Young Master Jun for too long.”

Even if she did not care for him, the fact remained that she was now betrothed. To be seen with her former fiancé would surely give rise to damaging rumors.

Shen Nanyuan nodded. “I know what to do.”

She walked directly over. Under Jun Ci’s fixed gaze, she nodded slightly, her demeanor calm, no longer as distracted as she had been yesterday. “Young Master Jun.”

Jun Ci’s breath came a little quicker. A thousand words crowded his heart, but when he opened his mouth, they condensed into a single, tentative sentence: “Today is your birthday. I’ve never given you a gift before—I don’t know if you’ll like this.”

He added, almost nervously, “It’s what you once wanted.”

Shen Nanyuan’s gaze lowered coolly, falling upon the scroll in his hands. As he unfurled it, she saw it was a portrait he had drawn of her—lifelike and exquisitely rendered.

She knew little of the history between the original Shen Nanyuan and Jun Ci, aside from a few brief mentions in the novel. She was unaware that the original had once asked Jun Ci for a portrait as a birthday wish.

Her tone was distant. “Thank you, Young Master Jun, but it would not be appropriate for me to accept such a gift.”

Jun Ci trembled violently.

The same searing pain he had felt upon learning of her betrothal surged through him again, making even his hand holding the scroll shake uncontrollably.

His voice was hoarse. “Is it because of the Second Prince? Because you will be his princess?”

“Young Master Jun,” Shen Nanyuan frowned slightly, “this has nothing to do with the Second Prince. Even if I were not engaged, I could not accept such a birthday gift.”

To accept a painting made especially for her by a man—if word got out in this era, she would become the subject of endless censure.

She continued in an even tone, “I appreciate your kindness, but it would be best if we did not meet again.”

At her words, Jun Ci looked up sharply. The sentence struck him like a blade, piercing straight into his heart.

He was so stricken he could hardly breathe, pain radiating through every limb. He gripped the scroll tightly, his voice turning raw and thick with sorrow as he whispered, “Shen Nanyuan.”

Shen Nanyuan.

“Yuan Yuan.”

—

For a brief moment, his vision blurred.

“Brother Jun, I want some candied hawthorns.”

They had been seven or eight back then. Shen Nanyuan stood before him, looking up with hopeful eyes. He heard his own gentle, laughing voice: “Alright, Brother Jun will buy them for you. But you must stay close and not run off.”

“Wonderful! Brother Jun, you’re the best!”

Her joy had lit up her face, her voice clear and melodious.

Later, he had met Lin Yan.

Her eyes had grown dim. She had asked him, cautiously, “Brother Jun, my birthday is in a few days. Could you draw me a picture?”

And he had replied, impatiently, “I don’t have time. I’m busy these days.”

No longer carefree, she had lowered her gaze, unable to hide her disappointment. “I understand. Take care of your work, Brother Jun.”

The illusions faded, replaced by her current coldness.

“We should not meet again.”

Years had flashed by in an instant, and all those memories had vanished into the river of time. Yet never before had they appeared so vividly in his mind as they did now, each one a sharper ache.

His complexion turned ashen, his throat choked with unspeakable hoarseness.

Shen Nanyuan raised her eyes slightly, meeting his reddened gaze.

“Yuan Yuan,” he said softly, “I was the one who met you first. It should have been us who married, it should have—”

He bit down hard, overcome with emotion, unable to continue.

“But you destroyed everything, Jun Ci.” Shen Nanyuan remained calm. “You were the one who pushed me away. I will never look back.”