**
Three figures grieve be forth an empty grave.
As General Li and Scholar Li rise up from the ground, they notice that Sir Xu does not move an inch. His eyes rest on the gravestone, heavy in thought.
When General Li attempts to tap Sir Xu's shoulders, Scholar Li cuts off her action. He shakes his head with a frown, signaling her to let him be. They both depart from the green grassland, which is filled with thriving blossoms.
The warm, soothing summer breeze whistles a song.
Sir Xu takes out the red and blue floral sachets from his pockets, laying them over the tombstone. Engraved on the tombstone is the name Yuan Zi Yan.
The Co-Commander gently smiles with a hint of sorrow as he fixes his gaze at the candies placed on the surface of her grave. Her favorite.
He can still recollect the smell, touch, and sound of her. A nostalgia of the reminiscence of her bits and pieces.
Beside Yuan Zi Yan's grave, along the riverbank, he leaves her letter of departure, her everlasting love for him. On her plot of earth lays Astilbe florals of all colors.
Wrapped around his waist is a belt with a rising Phoenix and Astilbe flowers surrounding the majestic creature.
Sir Xu arises from his feet and mounts his horse. His figure soon disappears from the scene.
I love you.
I will always love you.
There is no need to be next to you in order for me to say that.
You will always be inside of me,
Deep within my heart,
Guiding me to absolution.
The curtains close..
In the imperial palace's garden sits a lost soul.
A void of loneliness, with no hope filling the space that is left behind. The night sky delights itself at devouring every last particle of luminosity.
Now in the dark, the Tenth Prince waits by the pond to look at the moon reflection, grasping the letter Yuan Zi Yan wrote for him. "I did it. I wreaked havoc. I got revenge. The Eighth Prince and Seventeenth Prince—Dead. But you.."
"How do I recover, Zi Yan?" He tearfully embraces the letter, for he had told the universe countless times what he wants. Yet the universe only laughs at him, never responding with compliance.
He reads her letter again, whispering silently, "You're right."
"I wanted to let my heart be moved, to laugh from the bottom of my heart with those I treasure, to find meaning in everyday life.."
He says despairingly, "..Perhaps, I did want someone to tell me it was okay."
Laughing pathetically, he exhales, "I guess it's too late now, huh?"
In the eternal sea of darkness night time produces, he splashes a cup of wine on the ground, into the earth. "My beautiful Zi Yan, I saw you. I saw you carrying the weight on your shoulders. Is your soul finally at rest now?"
He thinks back to their childhood together.
Her hair flows ever so smoothly in the autumn wind.
He sees himself chasing after her, "Zi Yan, Zi Yan!" He childishly laughs, "What's the happiest thing you've experienced?"
She smiles with her teeth out, "Getting to know you.. Maybe!" Running past the trees, she shouts, "Rong Yi, you're slow! Quicken your peace. I am beating you!"
Their laughter continues and continues, until they slowly fade away.
The Tenth Prince closes his eyes again, recollecting his memories. Just once more. He wants to see her once more.
"Yuan Zi Yan.." He couldn't help but burst into an uncontrollable passion of tears, "I cannot bear your pitiful forgiveness and the you I can never get mad at."
"Don't forgive me! I am the cause of your death!" He throws the bottle of wine fiercely on the ground, shattering it: "So haunt me! Stay with me—take any form—drive me mad. But please don't leave me here in this world.. Where there is no trace of you."
His words break up. Warm tears stream down his face as he squeezes his eyelids shut, hoping his tears would come to a halt. He tilts his head back up to the moon. There, he sees a still image of Yuan Zi Yan, smiling.
His choppy breathing and watery eyes linger on. He sits there unmoving, gazing at the moon.
Throughout the Imperial Palace, it is known that the Tenth Prince has a true talent for portrait paintings. His only flaw, many say, is that he would only paint one woman.
He'd always paint the same young lady, captured in the moment, frozen in a smile.
Every day, every moment.