Six months ago. Xiping.
"Sir Zhen, have you recovered your memories yet? When you do, can you leave?"
Faster than lightning, Zi Hua tugged her friend's ear. "Jiu'er! Don't be rude!"
Shangguan Jiu scrunched her face, not so much in pain than for dramatic effect—the little minx.
"Ow! I was just curious, Sister Hua!" she protested. "He didn't injure his head. Even the physician says it's uncanny he can't remember anything. Besides, since when was he welcome in our secret spot?"
The sunflowers around them bobbed their heads as though in agreement, forming a cloistered space above the hill that overlooked the city, but wasn't easily found unless one was brought here.
Like him.
The man sitting beside them shrugged, the action deliberately provoking to the little girl. Even sitting on grass, wearing Yang Zi Hao's spare clothes, he exuded arrogance and effortlessness unlike a commoner.
"Exceptions always exist," Zhen said. "Perhaps I am one of the lucky ones."
At this, Zi Hua's ire shifted towards him.
"'Lucky'?" she said incredulously. "If I had found you even a minute later, this would've been your funeral."
Jiu'er snickered. "Look who's being rude now?"
Zhen had the decency to look mildly offended. "I will have you know that cursing my death is—"
He abruptly stopped, a strange expression crossing his face. "Nevermind. You are forgiven this time."
Zi Hua blinked. "Forgiven? For what?"
"Ignore his nonsense, Sister Hua," Jiu'er spat. "It is only natural that a man with no memories is incapable of conducting coherent speech."
She pointed two fingers at her own eyes, then jabbed them at Zhen.
"Just so you know, I still don't trust you," she warned.
"You've made that very clear..." Zi Hua muttered.
However, being the recipient of this near-insult, Zhen was unfazed. He smiled serenely, like Jiu'er was an impetuous child throwing a tantrum over a stolen toy.
"So what are you going to do about that?" he taunted. Maybe not completely unfazed.
Zi Hua groaned.
'And then there were two...'
Before things could escalate, she clapped her hands for attention. "Alright! Who wants to go to the Autumn Festival?"
***
Present.
While Zi Hua soaked in Zhen's gleaming eyes, quirked lips, and sharp jaw, she couldn't help but recall the moment that would have—could have—spared this reunion from the taint of lies.
All he had to do back then was confide. The timing was perfect, nobody was hurt yet.
'So why didn't he?'
Now, he stood so close to her, as if the months of separation had been nothing but a fever dream on her part.
As if nothing was wrong, nor had ever been.
"I kept my promise, didn't I?" he said.
If he expected instant understanding, he would be disappointed.
"I am so grateful you deigned to explain everything," she snapped, months of hurt and confusion escaping the metaphorical bottle she had locked it in. "If this is your idea of a surprise, I'd hate to be on the receiving end."
"Is this the etiquette the Blossom Palace servants taught you?" he mused, tone light and teasing despite the cut on his chin. "If so, they ought to be punished gravely."
Zi Hua scoffed. "I almost forgot—you're the emperor now, aren't you? Sir Zhen never existed!"
She dropped into a subservient yet mocking kneel. "Excuse this subject's rudeness, Your Majesty. It has nothing to do with the lessons I have received at Blossom Palace, so may your esteemed self spare the innocent servants."
His smile faltered. He reached over and held her up by the elbows, hands lingering.
"Zi Hua, I did not mean to truly punish them."
He didn't deny being the emperor.
"Please don't be like this."
The sadness in his voice almost made her crack. Almost.
"Like what?" She twisted out of his grip and backed away, anger fuelling courage. "Like you hadn't disappeared without a single explanation and expected me to jump into your arms with joy?!"
His hands fell to his sides. "I was attacked near your territory; if my identity was revealed, you and your family would also be in danger," he reasoned.
"Was that it? Or did you not trust us?"
She must've hit a nerve, because his lips pressed together.
"Don't you get it?" she pushed on. "I saved a complete and utter stranger, personally nursed him back to health, and begged my father to let you stay even after you recovered. You would never have been in danger as long as you stayed with us, and even if you were, we would've protected you!
"You may have had your reasons, as well as many secrets... but I didn't—no, I don't care about all those, because... Because—"
Fear, doubt, hesitation...
They had held her back from confessing her feelings once—but not again.
Not this time.
"Because I like you, Zhen!"
Her mouth hung open after the confession, disbelief widening her eyes, matched only by Zhen's.
There... She'd said it. She really said it.
And once the dam was opened, it didn't seem so hard anymore. The rest of her true feelings came rushing out like a flood.
"I really like you," she repeated. Calmer now, full of conviction.
She started walking towards him to the beat of her heart.
Step.
"From the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you left, I never stopped thinking of you. I missed you, every single day."
Step.
"I missed the way you were always there when I turned around. I missed getting to know you in the sunflower fields."
Step.
"Heavens, I even missed the sound of you bickering with Jiu'er," she laughed a little at how ridiculous she must have sounded. "She's been so demure after you left."
They were almost face to face now.
He couldn't run away this time.
"So I don't care if you're the emperor or a peasant or if your name is Zhen or not. If you mind that I don't, then too bad—because you chose me, and I'm not going anywhere!" she concluded.
"Zi Hua... Ha."
Suddenly, Li Zhen Tian laughed. A low, hypnotic sound that halted her words. Yet, the warmth in his laughter made her ears redden.
Right now, he sounded exactly like the Sir Zhen she remembered.
"I like you too," he said.
There was a tenderness in his eyes, nestled amongst relief and happiness.
Was there a more beautiful serendipity in the world, than reciprocated feelings?
Zi Hua would beg to differ.
"Your smile, your laughter, and the memories we made in Xiping... They meant something. I never forgot, either," he continued.
She had taken the first step. Let him take the last.
With a fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, because he had just found the precious treasure he had left behind, and he wasn't planning on letting go again.
"You said you missed getting to know me... Will you give me another chance to show you who I am?" he asked quietly.
Zi Hua melted into his embrace, letting the tears fall at last. Joy, sorrow, regret, relief—the why didn't matter.
"Fine," she sniffed, rubbing her face on his clothes. Then and there, she didn't even think about the sin of sullying his dragon robes. Didn't want to doubt his sincerity again.
Because he was Zhen, and he was here with her. And it wasn't a dream.
This—now—was all that mattered.
"Just this one chance. And only because fate brought us together again," she mumbled.
"Yes..." A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest, echoing within her ears. "Let's call it fate."
For awhile, they basked in this fragile moment, the reunion she had dreamt of and was now realised.
But the night was was a long time to spend alone. Soon, Zhen's attention shifted.
"Now then... We shouldn't disappoint this fortuitous night, shall we?"
His suggestive tone made Zi Hua blush. All of a sudden, his closeness was palpable—rough breaths, searing skin, and darkening eyes.
His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her body flush against his, moulding curves to hard muscle like a puzzle destined to fit.
The contents of the "book" flashed through her mind shamelessly. If it were with Zhen...
She slowly raised her face, brushing against his lips.
"No, we shouldn't," she whispered.
The curtains fell around them, obscuring the words they no longer had need for, trapping all longing, desire, and love within.
Two shadows entwined behind the veil, lost in the time that was theirs alone. The candlelight waned throughout the long night, evidence melting away as the rustle of sheets faded; clouds shifted and the city slept; the moon danced with celestial constellations...
But to them, it was a new beginning.