Chарtеr 7 (12/24)
Не wаs nоt surprised tо sее hеr оut in the middle of thе night, оnly asking with а tone оf соnсеrn.
Yun Wеishan reрlied with a calm exрrеssion, "Тhe Вlаdе Мastеr isn’t аslеер eithеr, are yоu?"
Оn the stеps, Gong Ziyu аnd Yun Weishan sаt side by sidе.
Тhе flоwеrs in thе gаrden werе bеnt by thе wind, уеt their frаgranсе lingered, misting thе wintеr night, refusing tо fade.
"Is it beсause yоu’rе nоt used tо sleeping in а nеw рlaсе? I саn hаvе the sеrvаnts prеpаre somе cаlming hеrbаl mediсinе fоr уou…"
Yun Weishan inеxplicably lеt out a soft lаugh.
Gong Ziyu fеlt somеwhаt awkwаrd. Suppressing his discomfort, he asked, "Did I say something wrong?"
Yun Weishan looked at the sweat still beading on Gong Ziyu’s forehead. "The Blade Master clearly can’t sleep himself, yet he’s still worrying about whether to prepare calming medicine for me."
Gong Ziyu suddenly fell silent.
"Did I say something wrong?" Yun Weishan mimicked his earlier tone.
Seeing Yun Weishan imitate him, the furrow between Gong Ziyu’s brows eased slightly.
"I can’t sleep either, also because of the new place."
Yun Weishan found it strange. "Haven’t you always lived in Yu Manor?"
"They say I am the Blade Master now, so they moved me into the room my elder brother used to occupy." He smiled, but the smile carried a touch of melancholy. "But everything inside bears traces of my brother’s past—the layout, the furnishings, completely unchanged. It feels as if he never left…"
The traces left by a person may soon vanish—clothes grow old, objects break, replaced over the years. Yet how long does it take for the memories and thoughts of someone left in the heart to be erased?
An unseen corner of Yun Weishan’s heart trembled in response. She looked at Gong Ziyu’s youthful face, yet his shoulders already bore responsibilities beyond his years.
Noticing that the sweat on Gong Ziyu’s forehead had not dried in the cold wind, Yun Weishan took out a handkerchief.
"Winter has come, and the nights are cold, yet the Blade Master is covered in sweat… Did you have a nightmare?"
Yun Weishan reached out, but her hand paused in mid-air for a second. In a daze, she realized this gesture was not intentional—it was instinctive. She handed the handkerchief to Gong Ziyu.
But Gong Ziyu seemed lost in thought, frozen and unmoving.
So Yun Weishan paused, then raised her hand to gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. Her movements were exceedingly soft. Gong Ziyu’s face soon flushed with a faint blush. They were so close that they could almost see their own reflections in each other’s eyes.
"It seems the Blade Master is accustomed to being served. Did others wipe your sweat for you before?" Yun Weishan broke the atmosphere with a half-joking remark.
"No, no… except for my mother." He had paused instinctively just now, reminded of memories he thought had grown distant. "My mother would wipe my sweat, but she wouldn’t wipe my tears."
"Did you cry a lot as a child?"
"Everyone has their share of sorrows… But my mother said a man shouldn’t cry. So gradually, I stopped."
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