I will take you with me.

Standing amidst the surging crowd, Yun Xueyan tilted her head, gazing at the handsome man atop his horse. Duan Nanyu forbade her from being discovered, so she could only squeeze into the throng and watch from afar.

Yun Qixiao, armored and astride his steed, looked even more striking, his wheat-colored skin accentuating his allure. Straight and imposing, his posture betrayed a sense of searching—as though he sought something he could not find. Disappointment quickly shrouded his eyes.

All of this etched a bitter ache into Yun Xueyan’s heart. She had never truly done anything for him; she lacked the power to change fate.

Yesterday, after the fleeting joy had faded and peace returned, Duan Nanyu left her with nothing but a cold, wounding remark: “I am not pleased, so... Yun Qixiao will remain unchanged!” With that, he turned and departed, leaving only a desolate silhouette, lingering warmth within her, and the agony of shattered hope.

Cheers of farewell surged around her, wave after wave. Watching the army disappear into the distance, she finally withdrew her gaze. Suddenly, a warm and gentle hand clasped her wrist.

Suppressing her loss and unease, she allowed that hand to lead her out of the crowd.

Along the way, Feng Xilou frequently looked back at her, as though afraid she might get lost, despite holding her hand. He had spotted her by chance amidst the masses—her once-thin face now even more gaunt, her frail body easily swallowed by the crowd.

But still, he saw her at first glance.

Once inside a private room at the inn, Feng Xilou released her hand, gazing at the woman before him, her head still bowed. His slender fingers gently brushed her delicate, emaciated cheek, as if touching fragile porcelain—careful and light. Pain surged within him.

How had she become so thin in just a few days?

His gentle touch made Yun Xueyan tremble, her long lashes quivering. Before she could react, he had already pulled her into his embrace.

“Yaner... let me take you away. Leave with me, be with me.” Tenderness, sorrow, longing, and reluctance blended into his words.

Seeing her like this, his heart nearly broke.

If Duan Nanyu could not cherish her, then he would. Even if it meant breaking with Duan Nanyu, even if it meant mutual enmity, he no longer cared.

If she uttered but a word, he would take her away.

Yun Xueyan did not push him away; she merely shook her head. She selfishly coveted the warmth and tenderness of his embrace, yet it did not belong to her, nor should it.

Someday, a better woman would nestle in his arms, held close by him.

“Xilou, we cannot be together. I... belong to Duan Nanyu. I cannot leave the Prince’s manor, nor can I let you sacrifice anything for me. I am not worth it.” Her blunt words pierced her own heart, and Feng Xilou’s as well.

She could no longer entangle anyone else; even if the man before her was powerful and influential, he could never guarantee her absolute safety.

Whether Duan Nanyu or Feng Xilou, they should not be adversaries—it would be a terrifying prospect.

Moreover, Duan Nanyu would not easily let her go; even if she was nothing more than his favored slave, he would never allow what was his to fall into another’s hands.

Unless he tired of her and cast her aside...

Yet she did not know if she could wait for that day; her strength was nearly worn away by fate, and her heart was sinking, unable to extricate itself.

She even despised herself—why had she fallen in love with Duan Nanyu?

“Who says you are not worth it? Everything is worth it for you! Yaner, don’t forget—I am Prime Minister Feng. There is nothing I cannot resolve.” His words, urgent, clear, and sorrowful.

“Precisely because you are Prime Minister Feng, I cannot ruin your future or tarnish your reputation! What would others say? That Feng Xilou, the Prime Minister, took a woman already sullied by Duan Nanyu?” With resolute denial, Yun Xueyan finally pushed away that warm embrace. “Xilou, you have betrayed your emotions.”