Completely different from the model wedding night of her past life, this life's great wedding began with a world-shaking assassination; nothing else could possibly be more terrifying. As the saying goes, "one is reborn from a desperate situation." The Prince Consort, on the contrary, gained boundless courage from it, and as if trying to make up for all the regrets of his past life, began to cling to her endlessly.

Wen Chan went from "The initiative I mentioned wasn't this kind of initiative" to "We still have to get up tomorrow to deal with the assassination, let's not be too indulgent." In the end, she could only sink blankly into his deep, dark eyes, using the last of her strength to comfort herself, 'He was just scared, what fault is it of his?'

The next morning.

Wen Chan lay with her eyes open, sunk into the soft quilt, staring blankly at the canopy for a while, feeling too lazy to move. The April weather was neither cold nor hot, and the light within the bed curtains was dim and soft. The breathing of the person beside her was slow and steady, not disturbing at all, but instead lending a rare sense of tranquility.

Although last night's foolery had been outrageous, to the point she couldn't even remember when she had finally fallen asleep, she had unexpectedly slept very well, dreamlessly until dawn. After yesterday's ordeal, there was probably no one else besides her and the Prince Consort who could have slept so soundly.

After a while, Pei Rusong's fingers resting on her waist twitched slightly. His breathing paused for a moment, then he shuffled closer to share her pillow, calling to her softly in a slightly hoarse voice, "Your Highness..."

'It seems he has a guilty conscience now,' Wen Chan thought, 'and now that he's awake, he knows to hurry over and wag his tail.' She silently turned her head to glance at him, drew a hand out from under the quilt, and pressed against his shoulder to push him back.

Pei Rusong's pupils instantly constricted. Like a drowning man clutching driftwood, he hugged her tightly. "Did I displease Your Highness? Does Your Highness hate me? Or have you finally decided I'm unlucky and chosen to get a new one?"

"No, no, and I don't think so," Wen Chan said calmly, continuing to push him. "Move over a little, you're lying on my hair."

Pei Rusong: "..."

He let out an embarrassed "oh" and propped himself up slightly, allowing Wen Chan to rescue her hair. Although he had only moved less than three inches away, the grievance in his eyes was so intense it was as if Wen Chan had kicked him out of bed first thing in the morning.

A moment later—

Wen Chan: "Pfft..."

Pei Rusong: ?

Overexerted from the night before, Wen Chan's laugh pulled at aches all over her body. It was both painful and hard to suppress. Seeing her almost curl up, Pei Rusong quickly said, "Your Highness, take it easy, stop laughing for a moment..."

"I really... this is the first time I've seen you so flustered, hahahaha..." Wen Chan hugged the quilt, laughing even as she hissed in pain. "How pitiful, Lord Pei."

Pei Rusong: "..."

The Princess usually addressed him by his courtesy name. When teasing, she would call him "Young Master Pei," and when angry, she would use his full name. But calling him "Lord Pei" at this moment was a reference to their past life, mocking him for being flustered and not composed.

But in truth, across both his past and present lives, the period when his official rank was high enough to be addressed as "Lord Pei" was only during the ten years after she had gone.

His feigned sadness turned into real melancholy. Pei Rusong pulled up the crumpled silk quilt, covering her shoulders and back, which were tinged with red marks. "This is also the first time I've heard Your Highness call me 'Lord Pei'."

He gently tucked away a stray lock of hair by Wen Chan's ear. Before she could answer, he gave a self-deprecating laugh and explained, "Love begets fear and worry. To pretend I don't care in front of Your Highness... it's simply too difficult."

Wen Chan said amiably, "Eldest Miss, if you really want to cry, save your tears for when you enter the palace to see your father-in-law. Can we get up now?"

Pei Rusong met her gaze wordlessly for a moment, then suddenly lunged over and hugged her completely, quilt and all. He buried his head in her pillow and announced fiercely, "No!"

Wen Chan: "Pffthahahaha..."

When she had laughed her fill, she nudged Pei Rusong's leg with her knee. "Get up. We have to go to your family home for the formal greetings today. We can't stay in bed any longer."

The small world within the bed curtains was like a temporary haven. Hiding inside, they could temporarily forget the heavy entanglements of fate, not think of the path of flashing blades that lay ahead, and just indulge in the gentle peace of the present moment.

But whether evading or confronting, bowing one's head or raising it, crying or laughing, a person ultimately had to keep moving forward. Where in this world was there a true haven of comfort? There were only cold branches for a temporary rest on a long journey.

The shadow of the sun moved onto the windowsill. The early-rising maids, hearing them talking, were already waiting in the outer room. Wen Chan draped a robe over herself and sat up. Before Pei Rusong could lift the curtain and call for them to enter, she suddenly asked out of the blue, "Have I ever told you that you're very handsome?"

Pei Rusong froze for a moment, then shook his head blankly.

"Then you know now."

Without any warning, Wen Chan leaned over, rested a hand on his shoulder, and gently pressed her lips to his cheek. "So don't worry. With your looks, as long as you don't poke a hole in the sky, I can tolerate your willfulness for at least another ten years."

Pei Rusong: "..."

The touch sent a tingling sensation from the tips of his ears to the crown of his head; it was a heart-stirring thrill even more intense than the one from last night. However, by the time Pei Rusong came back to his senses, Wen Chan had already been seamlessly led away by the maids to wash and dress.

Ten years.

He remembered their reunion at the Grand Princess Manor. The Princess had mentioned it once, so casually and frankly that it hadn't made him wary. Her smile held no trace of shadow, showing no sign of any apprehension at all.

But Pei Rusong was gradually beginning to notice that she would occasionally, seemingly inadvertently, set a time limit for herself. It was as if she already knew that somewhere ahead lay an insurmountable high wall, a hurdle she could not cross.

Although Wen Chan wasn't so arrogant as to think herself second only to Heaven, her actions and style showed she wasn't the type to drift along and bow obediently to fate. So why, on this matter alone, was she so utterly convinced?

On the way to the Pei Family home, the two sat facing each other in the carriage. Wen Chan noticed that the Little White Flower was uncharacteristically not being clingy. He seemed calm and dignified, rather reminiscent of the awe-inspiring and inviolable Eldest Young Master of the Pei Clan from her past life. She asked curiously, "You... you're not nervous, are you?"

Pei Rusong shook his head and asked, "Your Highness, do you have any leads on yesterday's assassination attempt?"

After the brief joy, reality remained as cold as iron. The blade at one's neck would not disappear just by closing one's eyes; terrifying as it was, it had to be faced.

Wen Chan said, "It's hard to say. But to strike in the street on our wedding day means two things. First, they are confident in their martial strength and believe they can succeed quickly with the element of surprise. Second, their hatred is so urgent that they couldn't wait for a more suitable time to act—among our enemies, who fits both these points?"

Pei Rusong pondered for a moment and said frankly, "I can't think of anyone. As for who we've offended, Your Highness has offended the Fu Clan, and I have offended the Su Clan. But the situation was the same at this time in our past life, yet no assassination occurred, so it clearly wasn't the work of either of them."

"Something must have changed, something that happened somewhere we don't know about."

Wen Chan did not reply immediately, just quietly watched the unfamiliar faces flashing past the window. In that brief moment of silence, an extremely terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in Pei Rusong's mind.

"The fall of one leaf heralds the arrival of autumn."

The carriage passed through the bustling market. Amidst the noise swarming in from all directions, Wen Chan's voice remained exceptionally clear and calm: "Father Emperor will not let us interfere in this matter. He will likely appoint a prince to oversee it. The Court of Judicial Review will be the one doing the real work; your connections can be put to use."