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Zhan Beiye contemplated… And contemplated, pacing around the room as he contemplated without being able to escape.

He repeatedly thought, under what circumstances would they reunite? In the palace hall? On the streets? Or the original residence? In what ways would they meet? Would she welcome him with a smile, or would he rush forward, smiling?

There were even a couple of times where he woke up in cold sweat, determined to fight his way back to the capital, only to be stopped by his subordinates—that night, he had dreamed that she was dead, kneeling down on the floor with blood all over. She attempted to draw something on the ground with the blood, then, collapsed.

He did not fall back asleep, sitting in the courtyard, hugging his knees as he watched the moon till sunrise.