The carriage was silent for a long time.
Qinghe's face was pale as he slowly grasped the dagger thrown onto him by the Marshal, lowering his gaze, he let out a desolate, soft laugh.
"Actually, it's quite good."
His voice carried a hint of hoarseness. Gradually, his gaze warmed up as he stared at the young girl's face.
"No matter what, I'm happy, that's true."
The Marshal closed his eyes to rest, not uttering a word, followed by a long silence.
Qinghe hung his head, softly murmuring to himself inwardly.
Ambitions and conquests, they don't compare to you.
This is my realization, but you will never believe me again.
...
Some days later, Qinghe's carriage team arrived at another location, where he captured the Eighth Princess. He once thought of interrogating her for some information, but in the end, he seemed exhausted, too tired to pursue further, not even wanting to ask. Qinghe had Ah Lian finish off the Eighth Princess, something she never expected.
