I've Figured It Out

Promises made could be broken, refusals could be revisited, and agreements could be overturned.

Everything depended on what Emperor Luo would do.

So, nothing said now mattered.

Cui Shifan stepped toward the palace gates.

Gu Chengyin turned and walked toward the main hall.

Just as he reached the entrance, he saw Luo Zhao walking out from inside.

She led the way, her steps brisk.

Lyu Fang followed closely half a step behind, matching her pace.

Luo Zhao caught sight of Gu Chengyin standing at the door and paused slightly in her stride.

But she said nothing and continued walking toward the palace gates.

Gu Chengyin watched Luo Zhao and Lyu Fang brush past him, then drew his gaze back to his side.

Shangguan Yunying had somehow already appeared beside him, head bowed, hands folded in front of her.

"His Majesty orders you to enter the palace, and no one is permitted to accompany you," she said.

She didn’t look up, didn’t meet Gu Chengyin’s eyes—not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t dare.

She was afraid that if she looked at him, she would lose control, spilling all the grievance and panic,

everything that had been piling up since yesterday, crushing her breath, in a single rush.

Gu Chengyin nodded, but then furrowed his brow.

He sensed that Shangguan Yunying didn’t seem right.

Her breathing was much faster than usual, her shoulders far more taut.

Individually, none of these signs meant much, but together, they signaled something.

Shangguan Yunying was holding something back.

Gu Chengyin glanced back toward the palace gates.

Luo Zhao was almost there, Lyu Fang still trailing half a step behind her.

Turning his attention back, he took Shangguan Yunying’s hand and led her into the main hall.

Startled by his sudden gesture, Shangguan Yunying stumbled slightly.

Not from instability, but because she hadn’t expected him to take her hand like that.

Her fingers curled slightly in his palm, like a frightened little animal instinctively trying to pull back.

But then she stopped herself the next second, because his palm was warm.

The warmth seeped through her fingertips, traveling along her veins and straight into her heart, warming Shangguan Yunying so much that her nose stung, and tears nearly fell.

Gu Chengyin found an empty room—a small storage alcove beside the main hall—pushed the door open, pulled Shangguan Yunying inside, and closed the door.

The room was small, meant for storing odds and ends.

Gu Chengyin released her hand and turned to face her.

"Yunying, what’s wrong?"

Shangguan Yunying didn’t answer.

She just stood there, looking at him.

Looking at that face she recalled on countless sleepless nights, staring into those eyes that were the first thing she thought of when she woke each morning.

Looking at the person she had believed she was close to, only to realize today that he was still so far away.

Tears welled up in her eyes, glistening, on the verge of spilling over at any moment.

She had held back for so long.

Now, in this little room where only she and Gu Chengyin existed, she could no longer contain herself.

She threw herself into his arms.

With all the grievance and panic, everything that had been crushing her since yesterday, she buried herself in Gu Chengyin’s chest.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed against his clothes, her nose brushing the fabric.

And then the tears finally broke free—the tears that had been lodged in her chest, choking her—gushing out like a flood.

It wasn’t silent weeping, wasn’t quiet sobbing.

It was a raw, instinctive, unrestrained wail, as if she needed to cry out all her grievances,

all her panic, all her fear.

Gu Chengyin immediately felt the front of his robe soaking through.

That dampness crept from his chest into his heart, spreading through his entire torso like a drop of ink dispersing in clear water, dyeing everything in its color.

He lifted his hand, placed it on Shangguan Yunying’s back, and patted her gently a couple of times.

He said nothing, didn’t ask further.

Because this wasn’t a time for words.

What Shangguan Yunying needed now wasn’t comfort, wasn’t explanations, wasn’t promises.

What she needed was a place to cry—

a place where she could let all the unspoken weight inside her flow out through tears.

Gu Chengyin stood there motionless, letting his clothes be soaked by her tears,

letting her sobs fill the small room that belonged only to the two of them.

His hand continued patting her back gently, once, twice, again and again.

A long time passed.

Until Shangguan Yunying’s tears had run dry, until her wails turned into sobs, until her sobs faded into sniffles.

Her body still trembled faintly.

Her face remained pressed against his chest, her nose still touching the damp fabric, her breath brushing across the wet cloth.

Gu Chengyin felt her body start to sag.

Not from fainting, but from crying so long she couldn’t stand anymore.

His hand slid from her back to her waist.

He found a chair and sat down, letting Shangguan Yunying settle on his lap.

Her emotions gradually began to stabilize.

Her hand rose, resting on Gu Chengyin’s shoulder, her fingers curling slightly.

Gu Chengyin felt that Shangguan Yunying had calmed down and was about to ask her something.

But Shangguan Yunying moved first.

She broke free from his embrace.

Lifting her hand, she grabbed Gu Chengyin by the collar.

The motion was fierce, so fierce it seemed she might tear his collar off.

Then Shangguan Yunying pressed her lips heavily against Gu Chengyin’s lips.

She gave no time for reaction, no chance for refusal, not even a moment to breathe.

As if she meant to vent all the grievance and dissatisfaction in her heart through that kiss.

Gu Chengyin did not move.

He simply sat there, letting Shangguan Yunying pour out her emotions.

After a long time—

Perhaps a single breath, perhaps ten breaths, perhaps even longer.

Shangguan Yunying’s sense of time had become completely muddled. All she knew was that when their lips finally parted, her mind was a blank.

As if an enormous eraser had swept through it.

All the panic, all the anxiety, all the fear—

Wiped clean, leaving only a blank, fresh canvas, ready to be filled anew.

Shangguan Yunying pulled back a little.

Her eyes were still red, her tear ducts still holding unshed tears.

But her gaze had already regained the gentle composure and sharpness of a chief female official.

Those tears, that panic, that fear and anxiety—

They were merely ripples on the surface of her deep, still water.

Beneath the surface, the tender and resilient Shangguan Yunying had always been there.

Shangguan Yunying looked at Gu Chengyin, a smile curving at the corners of her lips, and her voice brimmed with vigor:

“Gu Chengyin, I’ve figured it out!”

She was a world apart from the frail, sobbing female official of moments ago.

“Now I know why I always fall behind the others!”