Love and Crown

The grand gathering on the fifteenth day of the eleventh month in the seventh year of Virtuous Blessing was still regarded as a legend years later when people spoke of it.

The young man’s dazzlingly brilliant swordsmanship, the conflict that was dissolved without a trace—all became topics of endless fascination.

Yet at that time, beneath the gathering storm clouds that had finally sunk to their lowest, as sporadic raindrops began to fall and silence enveloped Tiger Hill, not a single person could have foreseen that young man’s victory.

The four guardians of the Azure Jade Sect stood at an angle, forming an impenetrable formation.

Scattered raindrops landed on the crisscrossing white silk ribbons, not soaking in but rolling slowly, gathering into glistening beads of water.

This was the Binding Heaven Formation—a legendary array said to be invincible. It required no exceptional martial skill from its users, nor was it bound by terrain or weather.

Once the Binding Heaven Formation was deployed, victory was assured.

No one knew how many times this formation had been publicly displayed over the long years, nor could anyone say exactly how many years had passed since the last sighting of this near-mystical array.

What people did know was that beneath this white formation—so seemingly frivolous and gentle with its fluttering ribbons—no one had ever broken free.

In the Azure Jade Sect’s 180-year history, no one had ever escaped it.

The ribbons, woven from ice silkworm silk, neither burned in fire nor absorbed water.

Soft, snow-white lengths of silk encircled Xiao Huan in layers.

Within the formation, Xiao Huan slowly raised his arm and undid the jade ribbon binding his hair.

His ink-black hair cascaded down as he lowered his arm, spilling loose over his shoulders.

Lowering his head, he smiled at Cang Cang, who was staring at him somewhat dumbfounded. “It’s alright. Just wait for me over there.”

With his hair unbound, Xiao Huan carried a different air than usual—one Cang Cang couldn’t quite define. She only vaguely sensed something sharp emanating from him.

Handing her the jade hair ribbon, he smiled. “Cang Cang, hold onto this for me.”

Nodding, she released her grip on his arm, clutching the cool jade ribbon tightly before turning to walk out of the formation.

The four silk-wielding young women were none other than the Azure Jade Sect’s Four Guardians. Now, the Second Guardian, Li Banle, looked Xiao Huan up and down with a smirk. “Such charm and grace. Young Master Xiao, are you resorting to seduction?”

“Just avoiding unnecessary trouble later,” Xiao Huan replied mildly, his hands hanging loosely at his sides—not even drawing his sword. “Ladies, after you.”

“Enough chatter!” snapped the First Guardian, Wu Wushui, her arm sweeping out like a streak of White Rainbow. The silk ribbons interlaced, and the wave-like formation surged into motion!

A blanket of white unfurled, leaving no gaps on the Thousand-Man Rock. Amid the fluttering silk, the lone figure in blue seemed on the verge of being swallowed whole.

The four young women flicked their fingers, and a horizontal ribbon sliced through the air like a blade, shredding the fabric at Xiao Huan’s sleeve into fragments. Scraps of blue fluttered down like butterflies, followed by a few drops of blood. His injured right hand, still not fully agile, had failed to evade the strike.

Then several more ribbons darted forth, piercing Xiao Huan’s left leg and causing him to stagger.

The white ribbons danced like a performance on rippling waves—yet beneath their seemingly graceful and enchanting movements, every strand was a lethal strike.In just a few moves, Xiao Huan's limbs had been grazed several times by the silk ribbons, the razor-thin edges leaving fine cuts that seeped blood into his clothes.

Li Banle laughed again, "But don't worry, Young Master Xiao. We’ll only attack your body—we’d never dare mar your handsome face."

"Have the two guardians finished their chatter?" Xiao Huan interrupted with a cold laugh. "If you truly wish to see, I have something else to show you all."

His voice was icy, and not a trace of a smile remained on his face.

The moment he spoke, his long hair suddenly billowed in the wind, his sleeves swelling as an increasingly fierce gale surged from beneath them.

His jet-black hair, as if unable to withstand the force, streamed straight out behind him.

The misty rain scattered like sleet, dispersing in fine threads.

It was only then that Wu Wushui, who controlled the formation, suddenly realized—Xiao Huan was standing at the very center of the silk ribbon array.

Amid the crisscrossing ribbons, he stood at the convergence of all their threads.

He had never been retreating. His earlier disarray had all been to reach this moment—his true intent.

Before she could shout the command to shift the formation, before she could even raise her ribbons—

Wu Wushui’s vision turned crimson.

Like the raging flames of hell, or the divine fire of legend that blotted out the sky, scarlet flames danced and raged.

The fire, ignited from the heart of the formation, spread like a dragon. Almost simultaneously, several screams rang out as the four girls maintaining the formation dropped their burning ribbons and retreated.

The Bind Heaven Silk was fireproof—so they had never thought to wear fire-resistant gloves.

But how could fireproof silk burn?

A sudden chill pressed against her throat—Xiao Huan’s finger rested against Wu Wushui’s windpipe.

"Guardian Wu, perhaps I was unclear earlier. Allow me to repeat myself—I will not submit, nor will the Central Plains Martial World."

The ribbons strewn across the ground still burned fiercely, yet the flames extinguished themselves precisely one foot from the edge of the Thousand-Man Rock.

The firelight flickered against his hair, tossed by the scorching wind, and against his expressionless face, making his deep eyes appear eerily unfathomable.

With difficulty, Wu Wushui gave a slight nod, her voice hoarser than ever. "We... concede."

Xiao Huan withdrew his finger and stepped back, cupping his hands. "I yield to your courtesy."

The flames gradually died away, leaving the scorched ribbons as pristine as snow, without a single mark of burning.

Yet from the burned silk wafted a faint, elusive fragrance—reminiscent of wine, but far more pungent.

Wu Wushui suddenly understood—had he used this to make the fireproof ribbons ignite in the rain?

"Impressive." A light laugh sounded as Liu Huaixue slowly stepped onto the high rock through the parted crowd, his face still wearing that serene, gentle smile. "Congratulations, Young Master Xiao, for breaking the Bind Heaven Formation—the first in a century. I am in awe." He continued warmly, "Such mastery of pyrokinesis—truly, you are a rare genius."

Xiao Huan smiled faintly but did not respond, merely extending a hand. "Hall Master Liu, after you."

"You misunderstand, Young Master Xiao." Liu Huaixue chuckled. "I have no intention of crossing blades with you today."

Even Xiao Huan was taken aback. He laughed. "What do you mean, Hall Master Liu?""Young Master Xiao has defeated several opponents in a row and is at the peak of his momentum. I dare not confront you directly." With a slight bow, Liu Huaixue smiled with an air of humility.

Among the Azure Jade Sect leaders who had appeared one after another, he was the only one with such a gentle and amiable demeanor, instantly diffusing much of the hostility in the air.

"Since none of our sect members can best Young Master Xiao, how about we discuss terms for a truce?" Smiling, Liu Huaixue swept his gaze around, addressing this proposal to all the heroes gathered on the Thousand-Man Rock.

"It's over." Beside the sedan chair surrounded by Azure Jade Sect disciples at the foot of Tiger Hill, a young man in white robes with embroidered lapels reported.

"Twenty years without invading the Central Plains Martial World." A soft, melodious voice repeated the terms, then let out a light laugh. "Very well, let it be so this time. Let's go."

The sheer silk curtains were drawn, and the sedan chair was lifted, slowly making its way deeper into Suzhou.

Following behind the sedan, young sect members wearing bamboo hats either dispersed or walked in the same direction as the chair.

A few slender, winding streams of people scattered into the narrow streets and waterways of Suzhou.

At the end of the crowd, the young man in white remained standing where he was. Hanging at his waist was a golden dagger.

Unsheathed, the blade was exposed—a short knife forged entirely of purple gold. If held by that elegant, slender hand, it would gleam with breathtaking brilliance.

Someday in the future, there might still be a chance to cross blades—with that person, with that cyan light that would excite any martial artist.

Smiling faintly, he bent down and spoke to another sedan chair beside him that hadn’t moved. "Hey, you’re not dead yet, are you?"

This sedan chair was not draped in light gauze but covered tightly with thick black velvet.

The chair swayed slightly, and then a muffled, barely audible voice came from within: "If you don’t carry me back to sleep soon, I really will die!"

"Oh? I truly thought you were ready to sacrifice your life for your bosom friend, throwing caution to the wind!" Laughing, the young man in white nonetheless quickly patted the bearers’ shoulders. "Please carry it steadily—there’s an injured person inside."

A few indistinct grumbles followed, unclear whether due to the low voice or the velvet muffling the sound.

One faint phrase seemed to be, "For you, I would."

The young man in white didn’t catch it, nor did he bother to listen further. Instead, he walked leisurely beside the black-velvet sedan, his hand resting lightly on it to steady the slight jostling.

Avoiding the enthusiastic young mistress of Flowing Cloud Manor, who tried to pull them into the banquet, Cang Cang held Xiao Huan’s hand and deliberately kept her distance from the fervent martial artists.

After the Azure Jade Sect’s retreat, these people had all surged into Flowing Cloud Manor at the foot of Tiger Hill to indulge in the customary post-tournament feast.

The same crowd that had been seething with righteous fury earlier now sat around large tables, chatting merrily.

The manor’s master, Qin Shiyue, had even reserved a central seat for Xiao Huan and sent his daughter to invite them to join.

The eagerness and apparent lack of grudges made Cang Cang suspect that the real purpose of this gathering was simply this boisterous, celebratory feast.Staying at the banquet would have meant being endlessly toasted. Even just standing in the side hall, politely declining, we had already been approached by several waves of martial heroes raising large bowls of wine in salute. If we had actually taken a seat, it would have been impossible to escape.

After dodging for so long, Cang Cang simply pulled Xiao Huan through a side door and slipped out onto the street outside the manor.

"I swear I'll never attend another Martial World conference!" she gritted her teeth and declared, turning back to him. The umbrella in her hand was still held high, sheltering both of them from the rain as she carefully supported Xiao Huan's injured right hand. "Does it still hurt?"

Though they had attended the banquet, Liuyun Manor had its physician bandage Xiao Huan's wounds early on. The smaller cuts on his body were shallow, but the blade that had pierced his palm, though fortunately not severing any meridians, had left a wound that wasn't healing easily. Even now, faint traces of blood seeped through the pristine white bandages.

"It's nothing," Xiao Huan smiled, looking down at her as he shook his head.

"Liar!" she retorted bluntly, wrinkling her nose. After a pause, she suddenly said, "Brother Xiao, let's return to the capital."

"Return to the capital? Why?" Surprised by her sudden request to go back to the place she had always disliked, Xiao Huan asked with a smile.

"If I want to go back, then I want to go back. Why ask?" Cang Cang glared at him fiercely before tugging at his sleeve. "Come on, let's go back to the inn to eat and rest. Standing around for so long is exhausting."

As he lifted his leg to follow her, a sudden tightness seized his chest, freezing him in place for an instant.

This body truly wasn't suited for combat.

Using the fire technique had already been his limit. When Liu Huaixue took the stage afterward, though he had gestured for the fight to proceed, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't collapse from exhaustion mid-battle.

He knew he shouldn't have come. But if he hadn't, then the Azure Jade Sect's conquest of the Central Plains Martial World would have ceased to be just a threat. The entire Martial World would have been plunged into a bloodbath—all to convey the sect leader's resolve: for the ultimate goal, she would exploit every means and sacrifice everything.

Countless lives would have been lost, countless bodies piled high—all just to send him this message.

"Brother Xiao?" Sensing his hesitation, Cang Cang immediately turned back, scrutinizing his expression.

"Let's go," he smiled, stepping forward and letting her lead him onward.

In the rain-drenched streets, the pale yellow umbrella stood out vividly against the drizzle, bright as a flower.

"Two matches fought, the opponent retreated. Victory in this battle." Ban Fangyuan, leader of the Venom Battalion guards, stood with his hands at his sides, reporting before the lowered scarlet gauze curtain.

"Understood. You've worked hard," the person behind the curtain replied softly, her voice dignified and gentle. After a pause, she continued, "And the emperor... when will he return?"

"Replying to the Empress Dowager, it may still take a few days," Ban Fangyuan answered. After a brief hesitation, he added, "His Majesty's old ailment has flared up again. His condition is not well."

A frown seemed to form behind the curtain. After a long silence, the person sighed lightly. "How reckless. The ruler of a nation, parading himself about in the Martial World and delaying his return for so long." Another pause. "Go and inform the emperor to return at once. He must arrive before the twelfth month."

"As you command." Ban Fangyuan bowed deeply.

"Wait," the voice behind the curtain suddenly called out to stop him. "What else have you brought?""Reporting to the Empress Dowager," Ban Fangyuan glanced at the documents in his hand before replying, "This is the list of officials prioritized for year-end evaluations by the Ministry of Personnel. His Majesty ordered me to deliver it to the Hall of Mental Cultivation."

The neatly written memorial contained nearly a hundred officials' positions, origins, qualifications, and capabilities, each accompanied by concise remarks in meticulous small regular script. When handing these to him, the Emperor's face still bore traces of exhaustion from staying up all night.

In truth, throughout all these intermittent journeys into the Martial World, none had ever conflicted with crucial state affairs. Apart from routine matters like reviewing Draft Recommendations submitted daily, no imperial duties had ever been truly delayed. On the contrary, due to concerns over political stability, covert guards like them were often summoned to deliver letters of inquiry or instruction to Duchess Du, who disguised herself in the Hall of Mental Cultivation to stand in for the Emperor.

After a moment of silence, the cold voice behind the curtain spoke again: "You may withdraw."

Ban Fangyuan bowed once more before retreating.

"Brother Xiao!" A clear, cheerful voice instantly filled the carriage as Cang Cang exclaimed excitedly, "We've reached Bianliang!"

Slowly removing the book covering his face, Xiao Huan coughed lightly before sitting up and rubbing his temples with a smile. "Is arriving in Bianliang really that exciting?"

"Of course!" Cang Cang nodded vigorously. "I've never been to Bianliang before—I've always wanted to visit!"

"Then we'll stay in Bianliang tonight," Xiao Huan said with a chuckle.

"Wonderful!" Cang Cang jumped up so enthusiastically she nearly hit the carriage roof. "Let's go eat the soup dumplings at the World's Best Restaurant!"

After traveling all day, dusk had already fallen as their carriage passed through Bianliang's closing city gates onto the cobblestone streets.

Six days earlier, they had departed Suzhou even before the rain stopped. Traveling day and night, they'd finally reached Bianliang. When they left, the renowned physician Li Mingshang hadn't looked pleased—his face dark and silent, refusing to accompany them. Thus their party consisted only of her, Xiao Huan, and two black-clad Imperial Bodyguards handling transportation and accommodations.

As the carriage navigated Bianliang's broad streets—so different from Suzhou's narrow alleys—Cang Cang couldn't wait for it to properly stop outside the World's Best Restaurant before leaping out. Standing on the steps, she waved back at Xiao Huan inside: "Brother Xiao!"

Smiling, he alighted as well, but suddenly froze mid-step.

"Brother Xiao..." Cang Cang reached curiously for his hand when she felt a palm abruptly clamp onto her shoulder.

Then an all-too-familiar voice sounded by her ear: "You little brat, did you want your big brother to search himself to death looking for you?"

Whirling around, Cang Cang found herself face-to-face with an enormous, grinning visage.

"Ah!" She jumped back without even pausing for breath, darting behind Xiao Huan to clutch his sleeve while shouting at the newcomer, "Don't you dare spank me again!"

Rolling up his sleeves, the handsome young man in black clothes bared his teeth in mock ferocity. "No spanking? How else will you remember I'm your brother? How else will you remember I've been searching for you through wind and rain for a whole month?""Tsk! You're roughing it out in the wild," Cang Cang stuck out her tongue unceremoniously, trying to match his ferocity as she pointed at the massive golden signboard of the "World's Best Restaurant" before them. "And yet you're here eating soup dumplings!"

"You heartless little brat, do you really want your brother to drink the northwest wind?" The black-clad young man waved his fist menacingly, but in the next moment, his face broke into a bright smile as he stretched out a long arm to clap Xiao Huan on the shoulder. "Yun Cong, long time no see."

Xiao Huan returned the gesture with a smile, his face lighting up at the sight of an old friend. "Long time no see, Jue Ding."

"Huh?" Cang Cang was a bit confused by the scene before her. "Brother, Brother Xiao, you know each other?"

Her brother, Ling Jue Ding, the eldest son of the Ling family, ignored her and said to Xiao Huan with a smile, "I really owe you one, Yun Cong, for taking care of this little brat for so long."

"No trouble at all," Xiao Huan replied with a smile. "Besides, Cang Cang isn't any trouble."

Ling Jue Ding looked him up and down, a teasing smile playing on his handsome face. "Speaking up for my little sister like that, Yun Cong, you're making me, her brother, seem like an outsider..."

Meeting his gaze without hesitation, Xiao Huan smiled. "Cang Cang could never be trouble to me."

Ling Jue Ding held his gaze for a moment before sighing with a laugh. "Fine, fine... I suppose she was bound to end up with you sooner or later."

"I'm not some object to be handed over!" Realizing they had known each other all along, Cang Cang snorted and interjected, "Brother, how do you know Brother Xiao?"

Ling Jue Ding gave her a sidelong glance. "Now you remember I'm your brother?" Despite his grumbling, he briefly recounted how they had met.

It was a simple story. Ling Jue Ding and Xiao Huan had met during a conflict between canal transport gangs near the capital. Both happened to be passing by at the time. Ling Jue Ding, always eager to involve himself in Martial World affairs, stepped in to help mediate the dispute and thus met Xiao Huan, who was treating the injured after the chaos subsided. They became nodding acquaintances.

Later, by sheer coincidence, Ling Jue Ding got drunk at a pleasure house in the capital and, in his inebriated state, grabbed someone and tried to drag them to bed. He didn’t remember much of what happened next, only that when he was rudely awakened by a splash of cold tea, he found a bruise on his face and a composed young man in blue robes standing by the bed, smiling faintly.

By now, they were seated in the World's Best Restaurant enjoying soup dumplings. At this point in the story, Cang Cang nearly spat out her soup. "Brother, you dragged Brother Xiao to bed?"

Ling Jue Ding grimaced. "Actually, the person I tried to drag to bed punched me onto the bed instead."

Cang Cang was fascinated. "What happened next? How did it go?"

"In the end, I had to apologize," Ling Jue Ding admitted with a laugh. "It took two jars of aged fine wine to calm Yun Cong down."

Cang Cang suddenly understood. "Ah! Was that when you stole Master’s two jars of wine and got an earful from him? No wonder you dared to touch his prized possessions!" She pressed on eagerly, "And then? Did you and Brother Xiao become friends after that?""Drinking a whole jar of wine together on the rooftop of the drum tower until sunrise—that's how you know you're friends," Ling Jueding laughed. "In my entire life, I've only watched the sunrise with one person like that." He rubbed his cheek. "Besides, that punch left my face bruised for a full half-month."

"Serves you right!" Cang Cang stuck out her tongue playfully. "Who told you to keep sneaking into brothels for no reason? Why didn't Brother Xiao punch you a few more times?"

"Eh?" Ling Jueding protested. "Yun Cong went to the brothel too—why aren't you scolding him?"

"Of course!" Cang Cang waved her hand. "Brother Xiao wouldn't go to a brothel for any other reason except to treat patients. Not like you—you just go to flirt with girls."

"You're being too biased, little girl! This elder brother is getting angry!" Ling Jueding raised his thick dark eyebrows in mock anger and reached to pinch Cang Cang's ear.

Giggling, Cang Cang dodged behind Xiao Huan: "So what if I'm biased? What are you going to do about it?"

The three of them tussled playfully. Faced with this pair of siblings who couldn't meet without bickering, Xiao Huan merely laughed and raised his hands in surrender, refusing to take sides.

After finally finishing their meal, Cang Cang dragged the other two on a detour to Longting Lake for a stroll. It was late at night by the time they returned to the inn.

Back at the inn, Xiao Huan retired to his room to rest. Though still full of energy, Cang Cang restrained herself from bothering him further and returned to her own quarters.

Having washed up and just undone his hair knot, Xiao Huan heard a knock at his door.

It couldn't be Cang Cang—she never knocked before entering his room. When he opened the door, he found Ling Jueding standing outside.

"Yun Cong," he said, shaking a small wine flask in his hand, "care for a drink?" He smiled. "It's very mild wine—your health won't be a problem, right?"

Xiao Huan smiled back. Though not a word about his condition had been mentioned since their reunion, Ling Jueding had clearly noticed.

Stepping aside to let him in, Xiao Huan tied back his long hair with a ribbon and used two teacups from the table as makeshift wine cups.

The wine was warm, and the flask small. Ling Jueding poured each of them just half a cup before raising his: "I'll finish mine—you take your time."

Xiao Huan smiled and took a small sip.

Setting down his cup, Ling Jueding said with a smile: "Yun Cong, my little sister truly likes you."

Xiao Huan paused briefly before replying: "I know."

"Don't let her carefree act fool you—she puts her whole heart into those she cares about," Ling Jueding poured himself another half cup. "One year when our father fell seriously ill, she spent three days straight in the medicine room brewing his remedies. Made countless blunders, broke who knows how many medicine jars, cut her hands twice, yet absolutely refused to let me tell Father—said she was afraid of being scolded."

He looked up at Xiao Huan: "The way she treats you now isn't much different from back then." Smiling again, he continued, "Yun Cong, you and I both know exactly what kind of place the imperial palace is. If it weren't you, I'd never let her go there."

"I want your promise, Yun Cong," he paused, meeting Xiao Huan's gaze directly, "Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll never hurt her—whether it's the you standing here now, or the you sitting on that dragon throne."

Meeting his eyes steadily, Xiao Huan nodded: "I promise."

Seemingly surprised by his immediate answer, Ling Jueding was momentarily taken aback before smiling again and raising his cup: "Yun Cong, sometimes I think... how much better things would be if you weren't that person."

When he'd first recognized the young emperor's face during that court ceremony conferring his noble title—shortly after they'd become acquainted—he couldn't suppress the shock in his heart.

That person, that young man with eyes both profound and clear, was imprisoned upon his throne. The weight pressing upon him—imperial authority and national duty—was so crushing that even this bystander felt suffocated.If he weren't that person, Ling Jueding couldn't imagine what kind of radiant and dazzling life he would have witnessed—such brilliance, how it would have stunned the world.

After a brief pause, Xiao Huan laughed, "If I weren't that person, wouldn’t I have to compete with the emperor for Cang Cang?"

Ling Jueding also laughed and nodded, "That’s true." Putting down his wine cup, he stood up. "It’s getting late. You’ve traveled all day and should rest now."

At the door, he suddenly tapped his forehead. "Oh, right. My master asked me to bring a message for Cang Cang—he wants her to visit Daiyu City before returning to the capital."

Xiao Huan nodded. "Aren’t you coming back to the capital with us, Jueding?"

Ling Jueding shook his head. "I still need to make a trip to Yunnan. I’ll accompany you for two more days before we part ways." He chuckled. "You must go. My master told me this a month ago, and I’ve been waiting all this time to finally catch that little girl."

Xiao Huan smiled. "Alright, I’ll let Cang Cang know."

With a grin, Ling Jueding pushed the door open and left.

In Daiyu City, under the bright November afternoon sun, golden maple leaves drifted through the sky.

Before returning to the capital, Cang Cang dragged Xiao Huan to the villa here to visit her teacher. Since there was no hurry, they decided to stay.

Now, her steps light, she walked toward the garden behind the courtyard, carrying a freshly brewed pot of tea. Beside the teapot, three cups were neatly arranged.

She had been drunk the night before last and slept until afternoon. Just after waking up, she heard the servants say that her master and Xiao Huan had gone to the garden. So she quickly freshened up, brewed a pot of Biluochun tea, and headed there.

The sunlight was warm, and as she walked, her mind wandered to yesterday’s events.

Last night, after reuniting with her master, she had been so excited that she drank a bit too much. She had snuggled into Xiao Huan’s arms, tilting her head to ask, "Brother Xiao, I don’t just like you because you’re handsome—how are you so good to me?"

Xiao Huan, far more sober, smiled at her. "I’m not really that great..."

She shook her head stubbornly. "Don’t you dare say you’re not good—you are!" Squinting, she added, "Brother Xiao, you came all the way to Jiangnan to find me and did so much for me. Is it because you like me?"

Without hesitation, Xiao Huan nodded and smiled. "Yes."

"Really?" Delighted, she wobbled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Someone as wonderful as you liking me—I’ve really hit the jackpot..."

As she walked, the faint scent of grass and wood that always lingered around him seemed to still tickle her nose. Cang Cang secretly wrinkled her nose. Kissing him always felt so nice—would it be alright to kiss him a little longer next time?

Her smile widened as someone murmured something in the distance, but she paid no attention. With a light skip, she reached the arched gate of the garden.

Then she turned, looked up—and saw the descending dagger.

A blade gleaming with a beautiful cyan light, swung down without the slightest hesitation. The edge cut into flesh with a faint, muffled sound, indescribable in words.

Along with the blood gushing from the severed neck, a small head tumbled to the ground. The familiar, kindly face was now smeared with dirt.The young man in blue lifted his gaze from the pool of blood on the ground, his face flickering with shock and lingering sorrow. He called out to her, "Cang Cang... Why are you here? Your Master..."

"Ah! Ah! Ah—" A piercing scream tore from her throat, no longer sounding human. The teapot slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor.

"Cang Cang!" He kept calling her name, taking the first step toward her before suddenly halting, his face deathly pale.

Her fingers clutched the Soft Sword at her waist—the faintly glowing green blade she had only received from her Master the day before. Uncontrollably, it thrust forward from her hand, piercing his chest.

Blood gushed forth once more, splattering onto her face, mingling with the endless stream of tears.

Her body trembled violently as she twisted her wrist, driving the Soft Sword deeper.

The scent of blood was so overpowering, drowning out the refreshing herbal fragrance she had once loved, staining her vision crimson.

A hand lightly brushed her cheek before resting on her neck. A gentle force flowed through the fingertips, granting her momentary peace.

On the third day of the tenth month in the seventh year of Virtuous Blessing, long before the bloodshed in Daiyu City, before the grand Martial World gathering at Tiger Hill, before the reunion in the Suzhou apothecary, before Ling Jueting, caught off guard, had smiled and said, "You must go. Master told me this a month ago."

In the Blowing Dagger Cottage of the Ling family's suburban estate outside the capital, the beautiful woman in white smiled as she placed the slender green sword with delicate inscriptions on the table before turning to leave the courtyard.

Outside the courtyard gate, by the carriage, stood a tall, slender figure. A breeze stirred, rustling his white robes and the thin veil covering his face. As it rippled like water, he chuckled softly, "Congratulations, Chen Jiaozhu."

"Oh?" The woman in white passed by him, smiling faintly. "For what?"

With a low, melodious laugh, the man in white turned slightly, bending to lift the carriage curtain for her. "Naturally, for orchestrating such a grand scheme. That man has reached his end."

"You saw his downfall so quickly?" The woman in white stepped into the carriage. "You don’t even know my plan yet, do you?"

Following her inside, the man removed his bamboo hat, revealing a face so stunning it could topple kingdoms behind the veil. "Because I know his weakness." With a radiant smile, he pressed a hand to his chest. "Here. No matter how calm or meticulous he is, he can’t hide it. His heart is too gentle." His light jade-green eyes shimmered as he added, "My imperial brother—his foolish kindness is already fatal."

The woman in white glanced at him coolly. "You’re clever. Then tell me, have you heard of a martial art that grants rapid progress but at a cost? Those who practice it, once they reach a certain age, suffer ceaseless torment day and night, a living death. So, in their final days, they seek out someone they trust to end their life by their own hand."She spoke with a faint smile, "If there were someone who was the dearest kin of your beloved, and he came to tell you that he was suffering from this martial art, urgently seeking release, begging you to help him sever his own head. His words were so earnest, his demeanor so agonized, that when you raised your sword to behead him, you wouldn’t even stop to consider whether you should find a witness or draft a document to ensure you wouldn’t be accused of murder. You wouldn’t even think about whether your beloved, upon seeing this, would immediately regard you as an enemy, whether she would seek to kill you in vengeance..."

Listening with a smile, the peerlessly handsome man in white showed no change in expression. "Truly a brilliant plan. Though I imagine, even if one were foolish enough to accept such an absurd lie, they wouldn’t be entirely without suspicion, would they?"

"This is no lie," the beautiful woman in white replied calmly. "This martial art is real, and those who practice it truly do reach a point where they long for release." She lifted her gaze to meet his. "I might use a friend to achieve my ends, but I would never let them die for my sake. Perhaps this is a remnant of what you would call foolish tenderness." She smiled slightly. "You might not understand, because tenderness is something you’ve never possessed, Your Highness, the King of Chu."

The peerless man also smiled, nodding slightly. "Thank you for the compliment, Consort Chen."

As the carriage began to move, the woman in white smiled. "No need for thanks. It wasn’t a compliment."

With that, she turned away and closed her eyes.

For a moment, the peerless man’s flawless smile faltered, but he too turned his head away.

Before him stretched the bustling streets of the capital, teeming with people and carriages. Amid the clamor of the city, he lowered his head and murmured coldly, so softly it was almost inaudible, "That kind of thing only makes one weak. I have no need for it."

At this moment, a full year remained before he would stand in the grand hall of Kuning Palace and, with his own hands, rewrite the empire’s history.

Far longer still before he would finally realize that there could be a girl whose smile alone could make his heart ache.

In the late autumn of the seventh year of Virtuous Blessing, after several rare days of clear skies, a cold snow swept in from the north.

For the capital, the arrival of this snow was unremarkable. The damp chill of autumn rain had lingered for a day before silently transforming into drifting flakes that night, blanketing the streets and rooftops in an endless white.

As winter deepened, the vast imperial city was draped in pristine snow.

Before the crimson glow of the grand wedding filled Qianqing Palace. Before the empress, clad in golden-red robes embroidered with nine phoenixes and four dragons, surrounded by a majestic procession, fixed her cold, composed gaze upon the young emperor in his ceremonial robes atop the white jade steps.

What preceded the tumultuous, history-making eighth year of Virtuous Blessing was a silence more oppressive than any in recent memory.

Day after day, with no end in sight.

When this bitter winter finally neared its end, in the twelfth month, the young emperor, dressed in plain clothes, stood silently on the deserted, frigid streets of the capital, watching the girl before him.

The girl who was soon to become empress clung tightly to the arm of a young man in black. "Though I was foolish enough to love you once, I’m not so foolish as to be beyond saving. The one I love now is Xian Xue.""I'm sorry, I cannot love you." The emperor's tone was cold. "So whom you love has nothing to do with me."

As if unwilling to stay longer, he turned to leave after speaking.

"Wait!" The young girl suddenly raised her head, meeting his gaze directly. "When we were in Jiangnan, were you kind to me just to use me against my father?"

He looked at her indifferently, neither confirming nor denying, then turned and walked away.

"Xiao Huan, I hate you, but I will still marry you and become your empress." Behind him, she spoke each word deliberately. "You'd better remember this—one day, I will reclaim everything you owe me, piece by piece."

His steps didn't falter as he walked straight ahead, disappearing from her sight.

That was the last time they saw each other before the grand wedding.

That day, the young Virtuous Blessing Emperor wandered aimlessly through the capital's streets for the first and only time in his life.

In the empty streets of the cold winter day, he walked endlessly along the capital's grid-like network of thoroughfares.

He walked until the sun slanted westward, until twilight enveloped the city, as vendors packing up their stalls brushed past him.

He came upon a dilapidated courtyard where a diligent child was studying hard, reciting clearly even on such a day: "...The wild horses of the air, the dust of the earth, all living things blowing breath upon each other. The sky's deep blue—is that its true color? Or is it because it's so vast and endless?"

The questioning tone, the crisp voice of youth.

A person's life always seems full of too many questions. Why is the sky blue? How vast is heaven and earth? Why can the past never return? What is there to look forward to in the future?

He finally stopped, standing silently outside the wall to listen. Pressing a hand to his chest, he bent over and coughed up blood from his mouth.