Feng Suige barely acknowledged Xia Jingshi and the others who came to greet him. “I need to speak with the King of Zhennan alone.”
Once inside the inner chamber, Xia Jingshi poured tea and calmly asked, “Is this about Yixiao?”
Feng Suige’s breath faltered briefly before steadying. “Send your men to my Shuihuiyuan later. Bring her here.”
Even Xia Jingshi’s composure slipped for a heartbeat. He rose from his seat, disbelief flickering across his features. “Are you serious?”
Feng Suige nodded heavily but stayed silent, lost in thought.
“What are your conditions?” Xia Jingshi asked at last.
“There are no conditions,” Feng Suige replied coldly. Then, fixing him with a hard stare, he added, “Until we return to Jinxiu, can you protect her?”
Xia Jingshi’s gaze fell upon his clenched fists. “Did something happen?”
Feng Suige’s expression tightened. “Just treat Xiyang well… and keep your distance from Yixiao.”
Seeing Xia Jingshi’s sharp eyes narrow, Feng Suige snapped, “Don’t misunderstand—it’s not about Xiyang.”
“It’s His Majesty,” Xia Jingshi said quietly.
Feng Suige flinched, averting his gaze. “Perhaps I’m imagining things. Today, Father summoned Yixiao alone. Though she returned unharmed, I have a feeling it won’t end there.” His voice trembled as he continued, “Xiyang’s mother died giving birth to her. On her deathbed, Father swore he would protect Xiyang’s happiness. If he believes Yixiao threatens that…”
He fell silent when Xia Jingshi’s hand rested on his shoulder. The warmth of that touch seeped through his armor like sunlight.
“I understand,” Xia Jingshi said softly. “You care about her too, don’t you?”
Feng Suige’s temper flared. He brushed the hand away. “Don’t speak nonsense! I just don’t want her to die because of this!” He turned abruptly. “I’ve said what I needed to. Go summon your people.”
Xia Jingshi studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly. “Alright.”
Yixiao sat curled on the couch, knees drawn to her chest. She hadn’t cried—though she thought she would.
She remembered, long ago, finding a jade pendant in the Fu family garden—half a magnolia blossom carved in flawless white jade. It was beautiful, delicate. She’d planned to give it to her mother.
“Yixiao,” a voice had called behind her. Turning, she saw the First Madam, elegant as ever, flanked by two maids. “What are you holding?”
Yixiao offered the pendant honestly. “I found it in the garden.”
The First Madam examined it between pale fingers, lips curving in disdain. “Ah, this must be what I dropped earlier. But since you picked it up, I no longer want it.” She raised her hand and smashed it to the ground.
The jade shattered.
Yixiao stared at the fragments scattered at her feet.
“Don’t forget your place,” the First Madam said coldly. “Some things are never meant for people like you.”
A breeze slipped through the window, stirring the fragrance of flowers. Yixiao’s tightly curled form slowly uncoiled.
She remembered, years later, while returning to the capital beside Xia Jingshi, she had seen a woman wearing a pendant much like that one. He noticed her gaze and teased, “What is it? You want one too?”
She had told him the story.
He’d laughed, then struck her back lightly with his horsewhip. “You silly girl. Whether noble or common, being human means having worth. Birth doesn’t define it. If anyone dares say otherwise, strike them down and tell them I ordered it.”
She had laughed then. “If I ever stir up trouble, Your Highness must stand by me.”
After her mother’s death, Yixiao found a box among her things—inside, a full set of jade ornaments carved with magnolia flowers. At the bottom was a blue note, her handwriting perfectly forged: ‘Daughter Yixiao humbly presents.’
She’d laughed bitterly then. Her mother couldn’t read anyway.
Now that same bitter laugh escaped her lips again.
Your Highness… why do I now understand that status is an unbridgeable chasm, and some things, no matter how close they seem, can never belong to me?
Footsteps approached. Feng Suige appeared, holding two small pills. “Take these,” he said curtly.
Yixiao sniffed them—same scent as before, but why two?
“Hurry,” he urged. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Wait—where are we going?” she called, following him.
“We?” He turned, lips curling faintly. “Not we. Just you.”
She clenched her jaw, swallowed the pills, and said, “Let’s go.”
Feng Suige didn’t move immediately. He looked at her for a long while, then drew out a sachet—the one containing her arrowhead—and pressed it into her hand. “I planned to return your arrow with this,” he murmured, forcing a smile. “But I’m tired of dealing with you. Take it and be gone.”
Yixiao stared, confused, as he dragged her through winding corridors toward Shuihuiyuan’s side gate.
“Wait—I need to see His Highness and Xueying!” she protested.
Feng Suige ignored her, pulling harder.
Then came a familiar voice—deep, steady. “You’re back.”
Yixiao froze. Xia Jingshi stood by the gate, reins in hand, smiling faintly. Ning Fei, Xiao Weiran, and several guards waited nearby.
Feng Suige grunted, pushing Yixiao forward. “Same route back,” he muttered to Xia Jingshi. When she lingered, he gave her another shove.
“You’re letting me go?” she whispered in disbelief.
He smirked. “If you can’t bear to part with me, you’re welcome to stay.”
With that, he pushed her past the gate—and shut it behind her.
Inside, Feng Suige pressed his forehead to the wooden door, eyes closed, until the sound of hooves faded into silence. Only then did he lift his head and walk back inside.
Outside, Yixiao found herself on horseback, her hand instinctively gripping Xia Jingshi’s. The world blurred into motion around them.
“Your Highness?” she murmured.
He looked down gently. “What is it?”
She shook her head, eyes wet, and clung tightly to him.
It wasn’t a dream. He had truly come.
“The Regent came to the post house himself,” Xia Jingshi said quietly against the rush of wind. “He feared you were in danger.”
Yixiao gave a faint, weary laugh. “Perhaps his conscience finally awakened.” Then she buried her face in his chest and closed her eyes.
Previous/Next
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
