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"...Young Master?" she ventured, not daring to turn and look at him, afraid she would find a pair of unfamiliar, icy eyes.

"Little Eight...if I were gone, would you still remember me?"

"What strange things are you saying? You're perfectly fine. How could you be gone? Where are you going?"

"...I don't know either. Somewhere very far away, probably."

"If you won't be by my side, where will you go?" She reached out to catch hold of him, but he stepped lightly back, leaving her grasping at empty air.

She stared at her empty hand as it trembled uncontrollably, and even her voice shook. "Then don't go! If you know you won't come back, why do you have to go?"

"I know I shouldn't go. I know I mustn't go. I don't want to go at all..."

The voice behind her fell silent, followed by hurried footsteps that moved farther and farther away from her...

His words and actions were completely at odds. So women weren't the only ones who said one thing and meant another...

A black stone fell onto the chessboard. Slender fingers picked it up and handed it to Zhao Huangpu, whose sleeves were those of an imperial robe.

"Your Majesty is distracted today, so why summon me to the palace before nightfall to play chess?" Long Ang lifted the lid of his teacup and blew gently over the fragrant tea. His crisp brocade robes lent him a handsome yet aloof air. "Wouldn't it be better to let me assist Longyang in storming the Pan Mansion to rescue the beauty for Your Majesty?"

"Longyang has help already. Why muddy the waters?" Zhao Huangpu chuckled, picked up the stone he had dropped, and placed it back on the chessboard.

"You really ought to change this habit of trusting