Gu Lian turns thirteen—and begins to understand that love, loyalty, and longing rarely walk the same path.
The summer of Yongxi's fifteenth year stretched on endlessly. Since that night by the lotus pond, Gu Lian had been haunted by a quiet premonition. As the seventh month burned, he stepped into his thirteenth birthday with a strange unease.
This year's celebration was more lavish than ever—it marked not only his birthday, but his formal engagement to Su Wanqing, the daughter of the Duke of the Realm.
The imperial garden was adorned with lanterns and silk. Officials and their families filled the space. Gu Lian, dressed in newly tailored princely robes, accepted their congratulations with grace. Yet his gaze kept drifting, searching for one familiar figure.
Ai Miao stood behind the Prime Minister, calm as always. When Gu Lian and Su Wanqing stood side by side to receive blessings, he saw Ai Miao lower his eyes, absently turning his wine cup, as if the festivities had nothing to do with him.
"Ai Miao," Gu Lian approached him during a lull. "What do you think of Miss Su?"
Ai Miao looked up, his gaze steady. "The Duke's daughter is accomplished and graceful. She suits Your Highness well."
The words were flawless. But they left Gu Lian strangely hollow. He remembered how, as a child, Ai Miao would bluntly tell him which study companions were insincere, which tutors were dull. Now, Ai Miao spoke only in polished phrases.
Midway through the banquet, Su Wanqing performed Phoenix Seeks the Phoenix on the guqin. The melody was elegant, earning applause. Gu Lian noticed Murong Che listening intently, while Ai Miao nodded slightly, as if analyzing the meaning behind the music.
"Your Highness," Ai Miao said quietly behind him, "Miss Su is expressing her intent."
Gu Lian frowned. "What do you mean?"
"That piece isn't just a love song. It's a symbol of political alliance," Ai Miao said softly. "The Duke's household is declaring full support for your position."
Politics again. Gu Lian suddenly felt exhausted. Even his birthday had become a stage for strategy.
That night was stifling. Gu Lian tossed and turned in his sleep.
In his dream, he was back at the banquet. Su Wanqing played her guqin, the officials laughed, and Ai Miao stood in the shadows, watching him silently. Then, everyone vanished—only Ai Miao remained, walking toward him.
"Your Highness," Ai Miao's voice was warmer than usual, unsettlingly so. "Do you truly want a marriage like that?"
Gu Lian tried to answer, but was pulled into a burning embrace. Ai Miao's fingers brushed his cheek, breath hot. "I can give you something different…"
Gu Lian woke with a start, drenched in sweat. His underclothes were damp and sticky. Moonlight spilled across the room. His heart pounded.
Why Ai Miao? Why not his beautiful, gentle fiancée?
From that day on, Gu Lian began watching Ai Miao more closely.
He noticed Ai Miao's attitude toward Su Wanqing was… delicate. Neither overly warm nor cold—always perfectly measured. Su Wanqing, however, seemed intrigued by the Prime Minister's son.
"I've heard Ai Miao is well-read," she said during a visit to the Eastern Palace. "What books do you enjoy?"
Ai Miao bowed politely. "Just the classics. I wouldn't dare boast before Miss Su."
Gu Lian watched their polite exchange, feeling inexplicably irritated. He interrupted. "Ai Miao, have you finished organizing the war reports from Beijing?"
"They're in Your Highness's study."
Su Wanqing sensed the tension and excused herself.
After she left, Gu Lian asked, "What do you think of her?"
"She's excellent," Ai Miao replied.
"In what way?"
"Her family, education, and appearance all suit Your Highness."
Gu Lian stared at him. "And you? Is there anyone you favor?"
Ai Miao paused, then regained composure. "My ambitions lie elsewhere."
The words tightened something in Gu Lian's chest. Elsewhere? In politics? In Beijing? Or… in him?
In August, the border grew tense. A Lie received orders to depart for the front lines.
"So soon?" Gu Lian was reluctant.
A Lie was excited. "Don't worry, Your Highness. I'll earn my stripes and return as your general!"
On the day of his departure, Gu Lian stood atop the city wall, watching his friend vanish into the dust. Ai Miao stood beside him, gaze distant.
"Who's next?" Gu Lian asked quietly.
Ai Miao turned. "What do you mean?"
"A Lie is gone. Murong Che will return to Beijing eventually." Gu Lian looked out. "Who will I have left?"
Ai Miao was silent. "I will remain by Your Highness's side."
"Until when?" Gu Lian pressed. "Until I marry? Until you find another master?"
The words came out sharper than he intended, laced with resentment.
Ai Miao met his gaze. "You are the ruler I've chosen. That will not change."
It should have been reassuring. But Gu Lian heard something else—Ai Miao had chosen a monarch, not a person.
September arrived. The study hall felt emptier without A Lie.
Murong Che seemed to sense the tension between Gu Lian and Ai Miao, growing more cautious. One day, after Gu Lian left, he approached Ai Miao.
"Sir, I've been reading Strategies of the Warring States. There's something I don't understand."
"Go on."
"If someone knows the road ahead is dangerous, but still walks it—is that foolish bravery, or…"
"Or what?" Ai Miao asked.
Murong Che lowered his head. "Or a heart led by emotion, unable to turn back?"
Ai Miao was quiet for a long time. "That depends on the reason."
"What if it's for someone?"
"Then it depends if that person is worth it."
Gu Lian, who had returned to retrieve a forgotten jade pendant, heard everything. His heart churned. Who was Murong Che talking about? And what did Ai Miao mean?
That night, Gu Lian couldn't sleep.
He thought of Ai Miao's calm "My ambitions lie elsewhere." He thought of that dream. He thought of the way Murong Che looked at Ai Miao.
At thirteen, Gu Lian tasted the bitterness of love for the first time. And he knew—this feeling could never be spoken aloud.
Moonlight spilled across his bed. He reached for the jade pendant Ai Miao had gifted him last year. Its cool surface grounded him.
Maybe… he needed to ask. Before it was too late.