“Zecheng told me about how you knelt at the palace gates for one whole night and one whole day to demand justice from His Majesty for me,” Gu Tingye said softly, after all the chaos had settled (the Emperor’s power was now secure; his conniving stepmother had died – a gruesome death he would not have wished for even her, but there was no point in mulling over that now; even in his wife’s family, there was something like peace).

Minglan turned onto her side so she could look at him, saying, “At the time, it felt like the only thing I could do; I would have knelt there for longer, if the Empress did not finally bring me into the palace and told me the truth about how you and the Emperor had a ruse going on.”

Tingye reached out to stroke Minglan’s hair and wondered at how she could speak of her deed of bravery with such nonchalance; he berated himself for all the times before this when he had acted to purposefully to annoy her or rile her anger so that he could see her direct any intense emotion towards him, for how he had initially rejoiced that she had risked her life in annoying the Empress in order to visit him in prison because it was proof that despite her practiced serenity, she cared for him enough to make such a fuss – he knew now how cruel and wrong it had been to push her, to test her if it would accumulate in her risking her life and her health pleading for him for a whole long day and night only a month postpartum; he no longer rejoiced in how she had allowed herself to suffer for him, and his heart only ached as he pulled her close and kissed her forehead gently, hoping that it was enough to begin to make amends.