Time: Summer, Yongxi Year 22 (Gu Lian's 20th birthday)
Location: Da Sheng Imperial Palace & Beijing Royal Capital
Part I: The Crown in the Palace
In the midsummer palace, the trees were lush, and the cicadas roared.
Within the solemn ancestral temple, incense curled through the air. Gu Lian, dressed in the elaborate robes of a crown prince, knelt before the tablets of his forebears. The Emperor personally placed the ceremonial headpieces upon him—first the black cloth cap, then the leather crown, and finally the juebian, symbol of status and power.
With each crown, the heralds chanted blessings: "Revere your dignity, cultivate your virtue," "Cherish the wise, let benevolence shine"— phrases lifted straight from ancient texts.
Officials stood in reverent silence. The ceremony was flawless—like a textbook of rites.
Yet beneath Gu Lian's lowered lashes, his gaze was hollow. He heard the empty blessings, felt the growing weight of the crowns, and thought: This moment, so grand and revered, lacked its core warmth.
Ai Miao, do you see this? They crown me, teach me virtue, grant me power…But without you here to witness it, it's nothing but a cold, elaborate performance.You once said you'd always stand by me.Now, I come of age—where are you?
The ceremony ended. Gu Lian rose, turned, and accepted the bows of the court. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating his handsome face—devoid of joy— and the robes that marked him as heir to the throne.
He shone too brightly to be looked at directly— and yet stood alone, like a figure atop a snowy peak.
Outside, the cicadas sang. But to him, they no longer sounded like summer's chorus— only a vast, engulfing silence.
Part II: A Lone Shadow in Beijing
Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, dusk settled over the Beijing capital.
In the flickering candlelight of his study, Ai Miao sat before a map of tangled alliances. Beside him lay a report from Da Sheng—just one line: "His Highness's coming-of-age ceremony is complete."
He picked up the light slip of paper, fingers tracing those four words again and again— as if he could feel the distant ceremony's grandeur… and his own absence.
Outside, the ancient horns of Beijing sounded— so different from the clear bells of Da Sheng. There were no cicadas here. But the wind's mournful howl felt just like them— telling the same story of summer and separation.
Your Highness, you've grown up. The thought surged like a tide. I should have been there—to see you crowned, to hear your blessings, to straighten your coronet ribbon with my own hands.Now this wind and sand… is my only offering.
He closed his eyes. In his mind, he saw Gu Lian wearing the juebian—radiant, regal. Did those eyes, always filled with laughter or stubborn fire, dim with disappointment at his absence?
A sharp pain pierced his chest— more unbearable than any political threat.
Part III: A Silent Gift
Late at night, Ai Miao unfolded a sheet of Beijing's finest dark-patterned paper.
He wrote nothing beyond the bounds of propriety. Only in the calmest, most precise strokes, he began to write.
The candlelight lit his quiet profile. Only when the ink dried and he dipped again did he glance southward—toward a palace he could not see. Then he bowed his head once more, pressing all his longing and blessings into the lines of strategy.
He did not write of missing him. He did not write of congratulations. He wrote the final draft of his plan: "Three Strategies for Beijing's Integration into Da Sheng."
Every word was a product of his intellect. Every stroke, a distillation of his effort and care.
He knew—this was the only gift he could offer Gu Lian now. The only fitting tribute to his coming-of-age.
Your Highness, I cannot present jade or recite blessings.Let this plan be my gift.May it clear your path, and lay the foundation for your golden age.
As dawn broke, Ai Miao sealed the document with utmost secrecy, and sent it toward the capital.
Part IV: Resonance
At the same moment, in the Eastern Palace of Da Sheng—
Gu Lian had dismissed all well-wishers. He stood alone among mountains of gifts—jewels, scrolls, antiques—none of which moved him.
He walked to the window, gazing at the northern sky. In his hand, he clutched a warm jade pendant— a gift from Ai Miao years ago.
Ai Miao, what is your gift to me?I don't want these cold treasures.I only want you… safe and home.
A thousand miles apart, two men looked at the same stars from different directions— hearts filled with the same unspoken longing.
The ceremony marked adulthood and duty.
But for Gu Lian and Ai Miao, this absent crown was a crucible— fermenting longing, tempering emotion, and ensuring that their next reunion… would be unforgettable.