On a winter night, the tea was cold, the pastries were cold, yet the proud and handsome young man showed not a hint of disdain.
Even the simple act of eating was so elegant it resembled a captivating painting. Shen Miao adjusted the wick of the lamp on the table slightly and noticed that Xie Jingxing's clothes seemed to carry a chill, as if he had just returned from outside. She asked, "Have you been here the whole time?"
Xie Jingxing wouldn’t have been hanging around the Shen residence’s trees all day. It was likely just a casual remark, and Shen Miao didn’t believe that the illustrious Prince Rui had nothing better to do than idle about.
Xie Jingxing smiled carelessly. "Didn’t you ask me to kill Ming An Princess?"
Shen Miao was taken aback. She looked at Xie Jingxing and probed cautiously, "You killed her?"
"More than that."
Shen Miao fell silent. She had, in fact, witnessed Xie Jingxing’s methods before. Two years ago, when Xie Jingxing was still the young marquis of Marquis Lin'an Manor, during the Lantern Festival, he had slaughtered all the masked assailants without leaving a single survivor. Two years later, in the secret chamber of Marquis Lin'an Manor, his handling of Xie Changchao had been just as ruthless. At times, Shen Miao even thought that Xie Jingxing possessed certain qualities befitting an emperor. Yet, Xie Jingxing and Fu Xiuyi were clearly different. Perhaps it was because Fu Xiuyi could endure years of pretense for the sake of the throne, while Xie Jingxing would boldly meet his enemies with a blade.
Maybe this was the inherent pride of the Great Coolness imperial family.
Shen Miao pondered for a while, then shook her head. Great Coolness was far away and had nothing to do with her. When she looked at Xie Jingxing again, she suddenly found the current situation rather strange. Since when had she begun to associate herself with Xie Jingxing, even considering him an ally?
She asked, "What did you do to her?" How would Xie Jingxing deal with Ming An Princess? Shen Miao felt a faint sense of anticipation—an anticipation tinged with a hint of malice. Having spent too long in the depths of the palace, Shen Miao was no naive, blood-averse woman. And when it came to someone as ruthless as Ming An Princess, she harbored not an ounce of pity.
"So eager to know?" Xie Jingxing looked at her with amusement, lazily replying, "You’ll find out tomorrow."
Shen Miao contemplated his words. Did he mean that Ming An Princess’s death would be a spectacle? She asked, "What about Xie Changwu?"
If Xie Jingxing had already dealt with Ming An Princess, there was no reason he would spare Xie Changwu.
Sure enough, Xie Jingxing replied, "Killed."
"Aren’t you afraid Marquis Lin'an will be heartbroken when he finds out?" Shen Miao stared at him.
The fire in the room burned brightly. Xie Jingxing picked up his teacup and took a sip, his thin lips turning a deeper shade of red from the tea. Yet his smile remained as indifferent as ever. "What does Marquis Lin'an’s family affairs have to do with me?"
Though the words were callous, Shen Miao detected a trace of self-mockery in the young man’s nonchalant smile. Her heart stirred slightly.
From the moment he turned against the Xie brothers, Xie Jingxing had truly severed all ties with Marquis Lin'an Manor. If Xie Ding ever traced his whereabouts, even if Xie Ding had no prior hostility toward Xie Jingxing, the deaths of the Xie brothers would forever remain an irreparable rift between them. Father and son turned enemies—though not by blood, was Xie Jingxing truly as heartless as he appeared, or did he simply bury all emotions, good and bad, behind those ever-smiling eyes?
Everyone had secrets they refused to share. As for Xie Jingxing’s thoughts, Shen Miao had no way of knowing. On this snowy winter night, had Xie Jingxing really climbed the tree outside the Shen residence just to pick flowers, or was he, like her, simply sleepless, using the snowstorm to soberly reflect on unpleasant thoughts?
In that sense, the two of them did share some similarities.
Suddenly, Shen Miao found Xie Jingxing somewhat agreeable.
Xie Jingxing noticed her gaze and paused, then asked, "What’s that look? Pitying me?"
Shen Miao chuckled. "I can barely take care of myself—what right do I have to pity others? Especially someone like Your Highness, Prince Rui, who holds the heavens in his hands." Her tone carried a teasing note, though she herself might not have realized that her words were meant to lighten the mood and ease Xie Jingxing’s heart.
Xie Jingxing raised an eyebrow at her, then suddenly leaned forward, resting his hands on the table as he approached her. With a smile, he said, "Don’t sell yourself short. As my ally, you’re entitled to a higher status." His voice, deliberately lowered in the winter night, carried a warmth as he continued leisurely, "Of course, if you were my woman, you’d be entitled to everything."
His features were extraordinarily beautiful. Even in her past life, when Shen Miao had seen countless beauties in the palace, none could compare to him. It wasn’t just superficial attractiveness—his elegance and charm seemed etched into his bones, into his very soul. Every movement was mesmerizing, like flowers blooming layer upon layer in the depths of winter, simultaneously cold and warm. And when he fixed his gaze on someone, it gave the illusion that, in this world, only they were being truly seen.
His eyes lingered on Shen Miao’s lips. He tilted his head slightly, his smile fleeting as he slowly lowered his head.
Under the lamplight, their shadows intertwined in an almost intimate embrace—the man tall, the woman petite—a picture-perfect scene of harmony.
Shen Miao’s heart skipped a beat. She pushed Xie Jingxing away abruptly, then, realizing how awkward her action seemed, tried to cover it up by picking up the cold tea in front of her and taking a sip. Only then did she remember that Xie Jingxing had just drunk from the same cup. She coughed lightly, turning her face away, but her cheeks slowly began to burn.
Xie Jingxing, caught off guard, nearly stumbled from her push. He steadied himself on the chair and watched as Shen Miao flusteredly drank from the teacup. His earlier displeasure vanished, replaced by amusement.
Lazily, he called out, "Hey."
Shen Miao refused to look at him, keeping her eyes fixed on the shadows on the floor. Xie Jingxing’s smile deepened as he teased, "You can actually get shy?"
Shen Miao snapped her head up, glaring at him.
But even her glare, softened by the warm light in the room, seemed more endearing than intimidating. Her delicate, lovely features usually carried an air of dignified grace, rarely showing girlish bashfulness. Now, caught between embarrassment and irritation, her fair cheeks flushed faintly pink, adding an unusual charm. It suddenly reminded him of that winter night two years ago, when she stood by the window in her undergarments, her hair loose, drunkenly pointing at fireworks with bold enthusiasm. The memory brought to mind the crisp fragrance of plum wine lingering on his lips.
Xie Jingxing smirked. "Shen Miao."
"What?" Shen Miao was seething inside. If Xie Jingxing were forceful or scheming, she could face him calmly. But the way he teased her like a little girl was downright infuriating, leaving her at a loss. In her past life, people in the palace had either flattered her to her face or gossiped behind her back. Yet all of them had been rigidly bound by palace rules and etiquette. She had never encountered someone as brazen and unpredictable as Xie Jingxing. It was as if all her strategies were useless against his unorthodox approach.
"You’re drinking from my cup," Xie Jingxing reminded her.
Shen Miao instinctively looked down, then wished she could vanish on the spot. Suddenly, she regretted letting Xie Jingxing into her room tonight—it had been a terrible mistake!
"Shy again?" Xie Jingxing seemed to take great pleasure in her discomfort, leaning closer.
"It’s late," Shen Miao said sternly. "Aren’t you leaving?"
Xie Jingxing didn’t answer, staring at her for a long moment. His gaze was sharp and profound, enough to unsettle anyone. Shen Miao forced herself to meet his eyes calmly. After a while, Xie Jingxing stood up. "Fine. Since you’re shy, I won’t disturb you any longer." His suggestive tone invited wild imaginings, though he didn’t seem to notice Shen Miao’s frozen expression.
He walked to the window. Shen Miao stood up as well. Xie Jingxing opened the window, letting in a gust of cold wind that made Shen Miao shiver.
"It’s cold outside—no need to see me off," Xie Jingxing said. "Thanks for the hospitality. The tea was good, and the pastries weren’t bad." With a flash, he was already in the courtyard outside.
Shen Miao moved to close the window when, amidst the swirling snow, the striking figure in purple robes suddenly turned back, his smile gentle.
"Oh, and you’re quite cute when you’re shy."
Shen Miao slammed the window shut with a loud "bang!"
She shouldn’t have softened! That man was utterly detestable!
After closing the window, Shen Miao sat back down on the bed, staring at the oil lamp by the bedside. Its flame was weak, almost extinguished, yet her eyes shone unusually bright, like precious gems gleaming in the dark.
She thought that in her past life, Xie Jingxing’s behavior would have been considered insolent. She could have shouted "How dare you!" and had him dragged out and executed. Yet now, she found herself utterly helpless against his teasing.
But why had she been so flustered?
In the flickering lamplight, he had leaned down so close she could see every long eyelash. His gaze was more intoxicating than moonlight, his lips thin and cool…
Shen Miao jolted back to reality, rubbing her forehead. She must have been too exhausted lately, letting her thoughts run wild. Someone as good-looking as Xie Jingxing naturally attracted women, just like the top courtesan in a brothel. She tried to console herself, but her racing heartbeat refused to settle. By the time she lay down, she didn’t realize that the corners of her lips had curled up ever so slightly.
The winter in Fixed Capital was exceptionally cold. Even the common folk living under the emperor’s shadow felt a sense of pride, believing themselves superior to outsiders. The nobility, of course, were even more so. Thus, in winter, people tended to rise later, except for the street vendors who had to set up their stalls early. Most preferred to stay indoors a little longer before venturing out.
After a night of heavy snowfall, the outside was bitterly cold. Fortunately, the snow had stopped by morning, so people were still willing to go out. As the day wore on, the streets gradually grew busier.
Wanli Lake, after a full night of snow, had frozen over completely. The usual elderly fishermen were nowhere to be seen—drilling through such thick ice was too much trouble. They’d wait for warmer days.
Though the fishermen were absent, the lake was now teeming with playful children. The icy surface sparkled, and the kids loved sliding around in their hard-soled boots or on wooden planks. Most of them were the children of shopkeepers and vendors. Their mothers scolded them for dirtying their new jackets and feared the ice might crack, but the children, at their playful age, paid no heed, sneaking off to the lake with their makeshift sleds.
Today was no different.
A group of five- or six-year-olds carried their wooden planks toward the center of Wanli Lake. The ice was slippery, forcing them to tread carefully. Falling wouldn’t be the end of the world, but if they ruined their new clothes, their mothers’ scolding would be inevitable. Thus, they moved with extra caution.
Finally reaching the center, the children placed their planks down and sat on them, pushing off from the middle of the lake toward the edges, laughing joyfully. A little girl in a floral-patterned jacket, her hair in twin braids, carried her plank farther back, wanting a longer slide. But she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
"Ah-Chun, what are you doing over there?" an older boy called out, seeing his sister standing still. He walked over to her.
"Brother," Ah-Chun pointed ahead, "that ice sculpture looks really weird."
In the southern part of the city, alongside elegant taverns, there were also ordinary shops. These shopkeepers were modestly well-off—not wealthy enough to afford grand establishments but doing well enough to thrive in the bustling district.
On usual days, the shopkeepers and their wives busied themselves with work, chatting and drinking tea during lulls. But today, with few customers around, several neighboring shopkeepers gathered outside to talk.
Just as they were complaining about the worsening cold, a group of children came running toward them, panting heavily. These were the children of the local vendors, who often played together. The cosmetics shop’s proprietress narrowed her eyes and scolded, "Dongzi! Did you take Ah-Chun to Wanli Lake again? I just made her a new padded jacket yesterday, and now it’s all wet! Do you want a beating?"
As she spoke, the other shopkeepers began reprimanding their own children. The group was a mess—clothes torn and wet, shoes missing, as if they’d fled in a panic from somewhere.
Before she could say more, Dongzi burst into tears. "Wanli Lake… there’s someone at Wanli Lake…"
The adults exchanged glances. A middle-aged man in plain clothes frowned. "Oh no, did a child fall in?"
Drowning incidents weren’t uncommon at Wanli Lake, even in winter. There had been cases of children falling through thin ice. At his words, everyone’s expressions darkened. The cosmetics shop owner, known for her kind heart, stamped her foot. "What are we waiting for? Let’s go check! If a child’s in trouble, we can’t just stand by!"
The others agreed, following her toward the lake.
But when they arrived, they were stunned. The usually quiet Wanli Lake, deserted except for the occasional child, was now crowded with onlookers—many of whom were heading toward the center.
"This… doesn’t look like a drowning," the cosmetics shop owner murmured.
In accidents, some would help while others watched, but never had so many people rushed to the scene at once. Stranger still, many of them were richly dressed nobles. The wealthy were usually indifferent to commoners’ troubles. Since when had Fixed Capital gained so many kind-hearted souls?
Meanwhile, others were already making their way across the ice. Cai Lin shivered uncontrollably. Despite his thick layers and fur cloak, the cold from the ice seeped through his boots, chilling him to the bone. The pampered young master could hardly bear it.
"What’s even out here?" Cai Lin asked his usual partner in mischief, who had dragged him along.
Early that morning, Cai Lin had planned to visit the gambling den with his usual crowd. But his friend had insisted on coming to Wanli Lake, claiming there was something big to see.
"Honestly, I don’t know either," his friend admitted. "But I heard from a servant that there’s something worth seeing." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "We’ve only heard of ‘beautiful corpses’ in stories—today, we get to see the real thing."
"Corpses?" Cai Lin recoiled. "I’m not going." Though he enjoyed the macabre in theory, he was a coward at heart. Once known as the "Little Tyrant," his spirit had been crushed by Shen Miao two years ago during the Verification, leaving him much tamer now.
His friend, however, wouldn’t let him off. "We’re already here—just take a look! What are you afraid of?"
Cai Lin hated being taunted. "Who’s afraid? Let’s go! I’ll see what’s so special."
They had already crossed most of the lake, nearing the center where a crowd had gathered, murmuring and pointing. His friend pulled Cai Lin through the throng, shoving to the front. "Look, look! That’s it!"
Cai Lin followed his gaze.
Fixed Capital’s winters were harsh, especially lately. A bucket of water left outside would freeze solid overnight. Anything wet—branches, eaves—would be coated in ice by morning.
At the center of Wanli Lake stood three "ice sculptures."
But they weren’t sculptures. Inside the transparent ice, the figures were unmistakably human. It was clear these weren’t carvings by skilled artisans but real people—frozen to death, preserved in their final moments.
What drew gasps was their poses.
The central figure was clearly a woman, her robes half-open, revealing pale skin. A man beside her was reaching for her undergarments, while another behind her gripped her waist. Her head was tilted back, leaning against the man’s chest. Though her expression was stiff, the erotic tableau resembled a living spring painting, sparking wild imaginations.
The crowd, mostly men—commoners and nobles alike—had gathered around, some out of curiosity, others simply to gawk. Even as corpses, the woman was undeniably beautiful, and the ice lent the scene a strangely alluring quality, devoid of horror.
The truth, however, was overlooked.
People fixated on what interested them. The men marveled at the scandalous scene, speculating about the woman’s origins, but none considered the grim reality: three people had frozen to death. That alone should have been terrifying.
Cai Lin stared at the ice sculptures. Normally, corpses would unsettle him, but these seemed more like crude entertainment than something macabre. His friend remarked, "She’s quite pretty. You don’t see beauties like that in ordinary households—and in such a provocative pose, too."
His tone was as casual as if critiquing a new courtesan at a brothel.
Cai Lin nodded absently, studying the female figure. Even through the ice, her delicate features were visible—familiar, even.
Familiar?
Cai Lin asked, "This girl looks somewhat familiar to me. Think about it—could she be from one of the pleasure houses we've visited before?"
His friend scrutinized the woman carefully before shaking his head. "Impossible. I've been to every brothel and music house in Fixed Capital, from the highest to the lowest, and I've seen all the girls there. But this one? Never." He added casually, "Look at her undergarments—they're even embroidered with gold. She might be some noblewoman, maybe even from the palace."
Though his words were offhand, Cai Lin stiffened abruptly.
From the palace?
He raised his eyes to the woman again, and suddenly, the image of a young, haughty girl in a thin golden gauze dress from a palace banquet overlapped with the rigid face before him. The two figures merged into one.
"Ming An Princess!" Cai Lin blurted out.
"What?" His friend was stunned. Coming from a merchant family, he had no opportunity to interact with nobles from the palace and thus had no idea what Cai Lin was talking about.
But Cai Lin's expression changed instantly. He finally understood why the corpse had seemed familiar. During the tribute banquet of Ming Qi, while his attention had been fixed on Shen Miao, the Ming An Princess—who had competed alongside Shen Miao in mounted archery and nearly overshadowed her—had also caught his eye. Back then, Cai Lin had even felt a strange kinship with the princess, as if they shared the same misfortune.
And now, the woman frozen in the ice sculpture, entangled in a scandalous pose with two men—who else could it be but Ming An Princess?
Though his friend didn’t react, others nearby with sharp ears overheard and pressed him: "Did you say Ming An Princess? The one from Qin State?"
"Really? The woman inside is Ming An Princess?"
"How could a princess of a nation end up like this… It must be fake."
"Now that you mention it, her attire does resemble that of a princess."
...
The uproar at Wanli Lake in Fixed Capital spread like wildfire. The scandalous sight of Ming An Princess entwined with two men became the talk of Ming Qi’s citizens, and soon, the news reached the palace. Naturally, it also made its way to the Shen residence.
Shen Miao had stayed up late into the night talking with Xie Jingxing, leaving her unable to sleep until dawn. As a result, she slept in late. Jing Zhe and Gu Yu, seeing her deep in slumber, dared not disturb her. By the time she rose for breakfast, it was already well past the usual hour.
As she sipped the porridge from the kitchen, lost in thought about Xie Jingxing’s words from the night before, Luo Tan burst in like a whirlwind.
Luo Tan’s injuries had improved significantly under Gao Yang’s treatment, though he constantly insisted she rest quietly. But Luo Tan was hardly the type to stay still—she carried on as usual, to the point where one might doubt whether she had truly been on the brink of death just days before.
"Little cousin! Little cousin!" Luo Tan rushed in and plopped down across from Shen Miao.
Without even looking up, Shen Miao continued eating her porridge. These days, Shen Xin had forbidden both Luo Tan and Shen Miao from leaving the residence to avoid another encounter with danger. As a result, Luo Tan had been cooped up inside, likely bored out of her mind. Shen Miao often felt that dealing with Luo Tan was like handling a younger sister, so she tolerated her antics with patience.
"Little cousin, stop eating for a second. I have big news!" Luo Tan sat up straight, her expression serious.
Shen Miao sighed and set down her spoon. "What is it now?"
"Ming An Princess is dead!" Luo Tan announced. "Her body was discovered this morning at Wanli Lake, along with two men… doing that kind of thing. But for some reason, they were all frozen in ice. The whole capital is talking about it!"
－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－
Xie-gege's first attempt at a kiss: FAILED_（：3ゝ∠）_
."..
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