Prince Bei Jing of the Red Chamber, starting from saving Qin Keqing

Shui Rong didn't move, but his gaze darkened.

He naturally understood why the Emperor had acted this way—Jia Lian's case, seemingly involving embezzlement, bribery, and human trafficking, was actually a pawn used by the Emperor to punish meritorious families and consolidate power in the court.

But how could one explain such schemes and calculations to the simple-minded Baoyu?

Just as he was pondering this, Jia Baoyu seemed to notice his gaze and suddenly raised his head.

The boy was pale, his eyes were red and swollen like walnuts, and there were still wet tears on his eyelashes. His face was full of tear stains and confusion.

The moment their eyes met, Baoyu seemed to find an outlet for his emotions. He suddenly scrambled to his feet and, ignoring the astonished looks of those around him, stumbled and rushed toward Shui Rong. Before anyone could react, he grabbed Shui Rong's legs tightly.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!"

Baoyu's cries were hoarse and broken, filled with childlike helplessness and despair. Tears streamed down his face, soaking the hem of his plain white robe.

"Brother Lian... how could he be gone! He was perfectly fine just the day before yesterday, how could he be beheaded so easily? It was just a moment of confusion, why couldn't we have spared his life?"

He clutched Shui Rong's clothes tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his forehead pressed against Shui Rong's knee, weeping uncontrollably.

"I went to the execution ground today, watching from afar... watching him fall. I didn't dare get close, I was afraid... Your Highness, that was a living, breathing human life! How could His Majesty be so heartless?"

"Second Brother Lian still has Qiao'er, but what will happen to Qiao'er after she loses her father?"

The hall fell into a deathly silence. Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on Baoyu, who was hugging his knees and weeping, and Shui Rong, whose expression was unreadable.

Jia She turned pale with fright and rushed forward to pull Bao Yu away, but Zhao Zhong stopped him without making a sound.

Zhao Zhong gestured for him to calm down, his gaze fixed on his own prince, awaiting instructions.

Shui Rong looked down at the sobbing boy in her arms. Her clear eyes were filled with pure grief and confusion, without any scheming or sycophancy.

A slight thought crossed his mind, and his fingertips unconsciously rose, wanting to land on Baoyu's head, but in the end he slowly withdrew them, clenched them into fists, and hid them in his wide sleeves.

His voice remained deep and solemn, but it held a subtle softening that was more pronounced than before. He said softly, "Baoyu, let go. The dead cannot be brought back to life; crying is useless."

"No! I won't let go!"

Baoyu cried even harder, his shoulders trembling like leaves in the autumn wind. "Your Highness, please tell me, this isn't true, okay? Second Brother Lian is just asleep, he'll wake up, won't he? Please, don't lie to me..."

Shui Rong closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, the gentleness in her eyes had vanished, leaving only a bottomless darkness.

He slowly squatted down, meeting Baoyu's gaze at eye level, his eyes fixed heavily on Baoyu's swollen, red eyes, and said, word by word:

"Life and death are preordained, and imperial power is inviolable. Jia Lian is gone, and there is no way to bring him back."

He paused, watching the light in Baoyu's eyes gradually fade, and a strange feeling swept through him. He then added:

"Remember this: there are too many things in this world that are beyond our control, and some mistakes, once made, lead to certain death. The current predicament of the Jia family is not the fault of one person alone. Even if you are grieving, you must learn to bear it."

Baoyu stared blankly at him, seemingly unable to understand the deeper meaning behind his words, and just kept shaking his head, tears still streaming down his face.

"I don't understand... I only know that Brother Lian shouldn't have died... He was such a good person, only occasionally foolish, how could he have ended up like this... Your Highness, I'm so heartbroken, I'll never see him again..."

Shui Rong remained silent and did not say anything more.

He knew that any explanation would be futile at this moment; the boy's world was too pure to contain the filth and cruelty of the imperial court.

He gently pried open Baoyu's hands that were wrapped around his legs, his movements gentle yet carrying an irresistible force.

"Please accept my condolences." Shui Rong stood up, straightened his crumpled robes, glanced at everyone, and regained his previous solemn expression. "It's getting late, I'll take my leave."

Having said that, he didn't linger, turned around, and walked out of the mourning hall.

The snowstorm under the eaves continued unabated. The cold wind whipped up snowflakes that stung his face, chilling him to the bone, but it was precisely what cooled the strange ripples in his heart.

Behind him, Baoyu's cries mingled with the sobs of the Jia family members, gradually being swallowed up by the wind and snow.

Zhao Zhong followed closely behind and whispered, "Your Highness, was it because Young Master Baoyu lost his composure just now...?"

"It's alright."

Shui Rong interrupted him, her voice as cold as the wind, "He's just a simple and ignorant boy; he can't cause any trouble. But we need to keep a close eye on the Jia family, lest they use the occasion of attending Jia Lian's funeral to develop any improper thoughts."

Zhao Zhong bowed and replied, "This servant understands."

In the wind and snow, Shui Rong's figure stood out even more, his white robes fluttering in the wind, reflecting the swirling snow, revealing a sense of loneliness and coldness.

The two remained silent as they passed through courtyards, and soon arrived at the gate of the Rongguo Mansion.

The snow was falling heavily outside, and the ornately decorated carriage was already prepared, with the driver hunched over and waiting beside it.

Just as Shui Rong lifted her foot to board the vehicle, a hurried but weak shout suddenly came from behind, as if it had used all her strength:

"Your Highness...please wait..."

Shui Rong paused, his brows furrowing slightly. Though the voice was soft, it carried an indescribable sorrow and urgency, which he heard clearly.

He slowly turned around, his gaze piercing through the swirling snowflakes, landing on the end of the covered walkway not far behind him.

In the wind and snow, a frail figure was seen struggling to move towards this side, supporting herself on a pillar.

She was wearing only a thin, plain white silk jacket, with a worn-out light gray cloak over it. The cloak fluttered in the wind, offering no protection against the biting cold.

Her face was as pale as paper, her lips were frozen purple, and a layer of fine snowflakes had settled on her originally black hair. She looked like she was about to fall in the wind and snow, as if she would be swallowed up by the snowstorm at any moment.

It is Lin Daiyu.

Shui Rong's heart sank suddenly, and a mixture of anger and heartache welled up inside her.

Are the people in the Jia family dead?

Daiyu's health is so weak. In this kind of weather, and she ran all the way from the mourning hall to the gate, with so many courtyards in between, what if she got frostbite?

Without thinking twice, he strode through the wind and snow and arrived in front of Lin Daiyu in a few steps.

"Daiyu, your health is so frail, how did you manage to run out?"

Shui Rong's voice carried a hint of reproach, but more so, concern. "The side hall is warm. Why didn't you go there to offer prayers? What are you doing following me out? If you catch a cold, it's no joke."

When Lin Daiyu saw Shui Rong turn around, she felt a sense of relief, as if the breath she had been holding had finally been released. But then, her body, which had been numb from the wind and snow, began to tremble violently.

She raised her head, and her eyes, which usually held a hint of melancholy and a touch of liveliness, were now misty with tears from the cold and excitement, making her look pitiful.

Upon hearing Shui Rong's reprimand, her face instantly flushed an unnatural red, a mixture of cold and embarrassment.

She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, but due to the cold and rapid breathing, she couldn't make a sound for a moment, only emitting faint breaths.

Seeing that her lips were trembling and she couldn't speak, and that her face was frighteningly pale, Shui Rong felt even more pity for her.

Without saying a word, he immediately took off his thick, plain-colored brocade robe, shook it out, and carefully draped it over Lin Daiyu's body. He then meticulously gathered the collar and cuffs, wrapping her completely in the warm fabric.

"Warm yourself up first," Shui Rong said softly, his gaze falling on her small face, which was red from the cold.

Feeling the warmth emanating from her body and the faint scent of ambergris, Lin Daiyu's tense body finally relaxed a little.

She shrugged, clutching her brocade robe tightly as if grasping at a lifeline.

After a moment, she finally found her voice, which, though still barely audible, was enough for Shui Rong to hear: "I...I heard that His Majesty...has bestowed a marriage upon you and me."

Her voice trembled slightly, and her eyes darted away, as if she was afraid of seeing rejection or disgust in Shui Rong's eyes.

Upon hearing this, Shui Rong understood.

He recalled that night when His Majesty summoned them to deal with those sordid matters, saying that he wanted to take this opportunity to bring some joy and cheer up these unpleasant things.

"Yes, that's true." Shui Rong looked at the cautious girl in front of her and sighed inwardly. "I'm sorry, this happened so suddenly. I only found out about it afterward and didn't discuss it with you beforehand."

He paused, then looked at her earnestly: "Daiyu, are you... willing?"