Graceful and poised, she walked with measured steps.

It was, of course, Miss Lu who emerged. Her shoulders were delicate, her figure graceful, her cheeks tinted with the freshness of spring. She walked with a light and gentle gait, the ornaments on her person swaying with every step; her bright, limpid eyes cast a fleeting glance across the room, instantly illuminating the gathering with her presence.

Her hands were folded at her slender waist as she bent her knees in a courteous bow, her lips parting slightly as she spoke, "Lu Rou pays her respects to the esteemed heroes." Though raised in privilege, her manners were flawless—no doubt a testament to the diligent guidance of her father, Lu Li'er.

The guests, fresh from the carnage of battle, their ears still echoing with the screams of death and slaughter, found their anger and restlessness soothed by her crisp, pleasant voice. It was as refreshing as drinking a bowl of cold sake when parched: the air seemed suddenly clear.

All present, except for Lu Li'er and Li Dong, were struck dumb. Such beauty, such grace—who would win this flower’s favor, to whose household would she fall?

Lu Rou approached Du Fuwei with measured steps, smiling as she bowed, "You must be Li Dong. Your eating manner isn’t very dignified."

For a moment, everyone was stunned, then the room erupted in laughter. Her father, Lu Li'er, laughed hardest, dropping his chopsticks without noticing. The county magistrate and deputy, being subordinates, dared not laugh too loudly, merely stroking their beards and smiling.

Du Fuwei chuckled awkwardly, rising to reply, "Miss, you must have mistaken me for someone else. I am not Li Dong." Yet a hint of pride stirred in him; if in Miss Lu’s eyes he was worthy of the title "young hero," that was no small honor.

Li Dong, seated beside Lu Li'er, watched the crowd bent double with laughter and could not help but smile himself. This Miss Lu Rou was indeed endearing—she hadn’t even figured out who Li Dong was before commenting on his table manners.

It was understandable, though; those at Du Fuwei’s table were devouring their food like famished ghosts, as if they had not eaten for centuries, and the dishes were nearly gone in moments.

Lu Rou laughed as well, a blush blooming on her cheeks—she hadn’t expected to mistake one for another. Her glance sought her father for guidance, as if to ask which among these men was the real Li Dong.

Lu Li’er laughed and beckoned her over, "Come here, Rou’er. Li Dong is right beside me."

Naturally, Lu Rou turned her gaze toward the smiling Li Dong. Following her glance, all eyes focused on him, realizing at last that this was the young hero she had spoken of.

Walking to her father’s side, Lu Rou expressed gentle surprise, "I’d heard you were young, but not so young as this. You’re even younger than I am. Tell me, how did you defeat Zhi Shilang’s army of one hundred thousand?"

Her innocent question drew another round of laughter. Her girlish innocence, so candid and pure, was without guile—how could she question someone directly about the defeat of such a vast army?

Li Dong promptly rose to return her salute, replying modestly, "Miss Lu flatters me. Even if I had three heads and six arms, I could not withstand a hundred thousand soldiers. Every person here contributed to our victory; I dare not claim the honor for myself and make you laugh at my expense."

"Don’t be so humble. Father has told me all about it. If not for your ingenious strategy, how could three thousand troops have routed one hundred thousand bandits?" Lu Rou’s clear eyes scrutinized Li Dong, searching for anything remarkable. If there was anything unusual about him, it was his absence of youthful arrogance. He sat with great composure, a hint of steely resolve in his gaze.

Her naïve curiosity stirred a painful memory in Li Dong’s heart. Scenes from his life with his girlfriend before his journey flooded his mind, overwhelming him in an instant.

His body swayed, nearly collapsing, his face pale, his eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.

In the blink of an eye Li Dong seemed a different person. Lu Rou, startled, stepped back and anxiously asked, "Are you all right? Are you unwell? Did I say something wrong and offend you?"

The gathering, still in high spirits, now noticed Li Dong’s sudden change. Du Fuwei, ever quick, leapt over and asked with concern, "Li Dong, what’s wrong? Did you suffer a hidden injury in battle?"

Lu Li’er’s expression also changed as he examined Li Dong, finding no trace of blood. He asked urgently, "Indeed, why such a sudden change?" Then to Du Fuwei, "Return to your seat; Rou’er and I will see to him."

Du Fuwei had no choice but to return to his seat. The men beside him huddled together, murmuring in low voices, occasionally casting glances at Li Dong.

Suppressing his memories, Li Dong managed a bitter smile and regained his composure. "It’s nothing, really. Please don’t worry—I'm fine now."

Lu Li’er instructed his daughter, "Rou’er, help Li Dong inside to rest." Without waiting for a response, he took Li Dong’s arm and led him inward.

Lu Rou quickly took Li Dong’s hand, her voice gentle, "Come with me."

Her hand was soft and delicate, as if boneless, and Li Dong felt a surge of emotion. Though he had no intention to rest, he unconsciously followed her from the hall.

At this, even the most obtuse among the guests understood what was happening. Especially the county magistrate and deputy, who knew the background and now envied Li Dong’s great fortune. Li Dong’s father, Li Hun, had finally achieved his wish, forging ties with the esteemed prefect. They resolved to curry favor with Li Hun from now on.

Du Fuwei and his companions looked on with dim eyes, perhaps harboring feelings for Lu Rou themselves. Seeing Li Dong and Lu Rou hand in hand, they realized hope was lost. Yet, reflecting further, they recognized Li Dong’s exceptional steadiness and insight; surely he would achieve great things. It would be folly to turn against him over a woman and miss out on a promising future.

Lu Rou led the way, Li Dong followed, and the two entered a side chamber.

Did Lu Li’er truly intend to marry his daughter to me? Li Dong’s mind spun with wild thoughts. Should he accept or refuse? Since crossing into the late Sui dynasty, everything had changed—time and place were at odds; yet his feelings for Dang Yuqian would never diminish.

Xiao Qian, are you well now? Do you know I miss you deeply? Do you think of me? Where are you now? Still in Luoyang, or have you crossed into this chaotic world as well?

If not for Lu Rou’s presence, Li Dong would have howled to the heavens to vent his frustration. This journey through time was a precious opportunity, but it had cost him the girl he had loved for years.

Aside from Dang Yuqian, no one could ever again enter his world. Lu Rou, despite her myriad virtues, could never compare to even a fraction of Xiao Qian’s worth. Besides, more than a thousand years separated them—there was no real feeling between them. What was the point of marrying someone he did not love?

Lu Rou had no idea what Li Dong was thinking. She remained gentle, helping him lie down on the kang, and sent her maid to brew a fresh soup. The side chamber was left to Li Dong and Lu Rou alone, the boisterous sounds of drinking and merrymaking drifting faintly from the next room.

Li Dong’s thoughts wandered back to the time before his journey—those special moments.

Lu Rou noticed Li Dong lying there, his gaze vacant, staring at the ceiling in utter silence. She occasionally placed her hand on his forehead, finding it cool, unable to discern any illness.

He was a strange one. Moments ago, lively and cheerful, now silent as the sea. Yes, like the ocean—calm on the surface, yet a storm brewing beneath. He surely bore a secret he did not wish to share.

Though she could not grasp the true cause of his mood, Lu Rou guessed much of it. Just returning from a fierce battle, he must be exhausted; she decided not to disturb him.

Seated beside him, Lu Rou tried to make no sound, resting her pink chin in her hands, gazing at Li Dong’s resolute face in a trance. Something crossed her mind, painting her cheeks with a rosy blush; she smiled, then fell into reverie once more.

This is a key turning point, with several hidden clues. If you find three hints, you are a seasoned reader! Please favorite and recommend!

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