Tomb‑Sweeping, This Formation Is a Bit Terrifying

The Crown Prince's move to Jiangnan is causing a huge stir, and even if Serena Feng wanted to pretend not to know, she couldn't. As she pondered whether to see the Crown Prince off—knowing his trip south wasn't just for his health, but also to raise funds for Ninth Royal Uncle—she considered what parting gift to prepare.

"Ninth Royal Uncle, when is the Crown Prince leaving?" Serena was thinking about what things might be useful for the Crown Prince, and as soon as Ninth Royal Uncle entered, she asked.

"April 12th." Ninth Royal Uncle sat down across from Serena.

Lately, Ninth Royal Uncle had been spending far more time at Feng Manor than at Ninth Prince Manor, making it impossible for the Emperor to find any fault with him.

"April 12th? Isn't that the day of Princess Yara and Prince Adrian's wedding?" Leaving on someone else's wedding day is basically cursing them with separation—the Crown Prince really is something.

"So what?" Ninth Royal Uncle didn't think there was anything wrong with the Crown Prince's decision.

So what if Princess Yara and Prince Adrian are getting married? The Crown Prince can leave whenever he wants.

"It's nothing, I just really admire the Crown Prince." This proves he's given up on the Emperor's favor completely; otherwise, he wouldn't deliberately needle Dongling Zichun, especially since everyone can see how much the Emperor dotes on and protects him.

"I've decided to leave for the Shandong Circuit on April 15th. You should get ready as well." Right now, every move he makes in the Capital is watched, so rather than being unable to act, it's better to leave early.

"Oh." One after another they're all leaving—maybe the Emperor will be thrilled. Serena muttered to herself, then remembered the idea of giving the Crown Prince a gift and asked Ninth Royal Uncle for advice.

Serena had once asked about the wager, but after hearing Vincent Su had scraped together enough silver, she didn’t pursue the matter further. With Prince Nolan stationed at Feng Manor every day, she felt that even if the sky fell, he would hold it up.

Time slipped by, and soon it was Qingming—the Tomb-Sweeping Festival. Just like in the old poems, rain fell in fine, steady threads, and the streets were almost deserted.

It was indeed Tomb-Sweeping Day, but because the assassins who killed the ministers hadn’t been caught, the Capital was still under martial law. Ordinary people couldn’t leave the city easily; most could only honor their ancestors at home.

The butler had prepared incense, candles, paper money, and simple fruit for offerings long before dawn. When the gatekeeper reported Prince Nolan’s arrival, Serena declined the maidservants and brought only a young servant to carry the ritual items.

She’d expected to travel quietly with Nolan, but stepping outside, she was startled to see a fully armed detachment of Imperial Guards behind him.

“What’s going on?” Serena wasn’t afraid, just puzzled—Nolan was never one to show off.

“His Majesty heard I was leaving the city and specially dispatched Imperial Guards to protect me.” Protection, in name only—it was really surveillance. The Emperor worried Nolan would use any outing to contact hidden allies.

In the end, the Emperor still didn’t trust Nolan. Even with recent clues pointing to a hidden faction in the Capital—likely tied to the Emperor’s own bloody rise to power—he refused to relax his watch over Nolan.

“How very thoughtful of His Majesty.” Serena’s lips twisted in sarcasm. She signaled the servant to load the offerings into the carriage, then sent him back to the manor.

She didn’t want her own people suffering under the guards’ hostile, suspicious stares. The Imperial Guards looked at them as if they were thieves.

"Let’s go." Nolan could sense Serena’s displeasure, so he gently urged her onward.

The Emperor’s decision to send the Imperial Guards was made at the last minute, under the guise of concern for Nolan’s safety. He had no polite way to refuse. Besides, he really wasn’t planning anything improper—whether the Emperor’s men followed or not made little difference to him.

The carriage was spacious enough for two, so Nolan and Serena sat on opposite sides, keeping strictly to propriety—no hint of intimacy or impropriety.

Nolan might enjoy being close to Serena, but in front of outsiders, he would never risk a lapse in decorum. The two rode in silence, boring the Imperial Guards to death.

The guards were under imperial orders to watch Nolan, but with him behaving so properly, there was nothing interesting to report.

The journey was quiet. Finally, they reached the outer edge of the mausoleum where General Feng and Lady Feng were buried. As soon as Serena stepped down from the carriage, a guard stepped up and held out an oil-paper umbrella to shield her from the fine rain.

Serena saw Nolan ahead and silently followed him toward the graves.

Whether out of fear of Nolan or respect for the dead, the Imperial Guards marched behind them in solemn silence. Their synchronized footsteps echoed through the woods, strangely making the place feel more secure than oppressive.

Serena stayed silent the whole way, politely declining the guards’ help. She cleaned her parents’ tombstones herself, then set out the offerings and incense.

After scattering paper money over the graves, Serena didn’t leave. She simply stood before the headstones, her eyes empty and unfocused, like a lost child seeking her parents’ guidance—knowing she would never get an answer.

A soft, inexpressible sadness gathered around Serena—no one could step into her grief. Nolan stood silently behind her, waiting for her to emerge from the sorrow.

No matter what storms lay ahead, Serena still had him behind her.

The carriage was spacious, easily seating two. Nolan and Serena each took a side, maintaining strict decorum—no hint of intimacy or impropriety.

Though Nolan liked being close to Serena, he would never risk public impropriety. Their quiet journey bored the Imperial Guards to death.

The guards were under imperial orders to watch Nolan, but with him behaving so properly, there was nothing interesting to report.

The journey was silent. When they reached the mausoleum's edge, a guard stepped forward and held out an oil-paper umbrella to shield Serena from the rain.

Serena saw Nolan ahead and quietly followed him toward the graves.

Whether out of fear of Nolan or respect for the dead, the Imperial Guards marched behind them in solemn silence. Their footsteps echoed in the forest, oddly comforting.

Serena remained silent, declining the guards’ offers of help. She cleaned her parents’ tombstones herself, then arranged the offerings and incense.

After scattering paper money, Serena didn’t leave. She stood before the headstones, eyes vacant and lost, like a child searching for her parents’ guidance—knowing she would never receive it.

A soft, inexpressible sadness surrounded Serena, impenetrable to others. Nolan stood silently behind her, waiting for her to emerge from her grief.

No matter what happened, Serena still had him behind her.