The moonlight filtered through the garden leaves, spilling a soft, silvery glow over Yi Xiao’s face. She stood quietly beside the stone flower bed, her figure calm and distant. Moments ago, she had excused herself from the lively gathering, claiming she needed to fetch an extra layer of clothing. Now, with Xue Ying weeping softly in her arms, she felt as though she had awoken from a long, senseless dream—one she could not fully remember, yet could not escape.
In that dream, everyone—Feng Qi Mountain, Feng Suige, Feng Xiyang, Xia Jingshi, and even herself—had viewed the world through their own narrow lens. Some acted out of selfishness, others from misplaced compassion. In the end, all were trapped by their own beliefs.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor, halting abruptly when the person noticed her. Yi Xiao sighed softly, turning to face the approaching figure. Xiao Weiran stood there, his expression a mix of concern and quiet reproach.
“I admit,” she said with a wry smile, “I left the gathering on purpose. I just wanted some time alone.”
His sternness softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. “The situation is still uncertain. You shouldn’t act recklessly again.”
Yi Xiao laughed lightly. “You’re starting to sound more and more like His Highness. I didn’t know it was contagious.”
He studied her for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, then spoke in a gentle tone. “Rather than yearning for fish by the abyss, it’s better to retreat and weave a net.”
Yi Xiao shook her head. “Some people are destined to shine—like the stars and moon in the heavens. They can only be admired from afar, never reached. Loving such a person is like holding light in one’s hands—it burns, and in the end, it’s better to let go.”
A faint smile crossed Xiao Weiran’s face. “It seems you’ve truly grown up.”
She grinned, pretending to sob dramatically. “In this whole world, only Weiran understands me.”
Their laughter faded down the corridor as they walked back toward the residence. Yet, as they turned the corner, Xiao Weiran’s gaze drifted back to the shadowed garden. From behind the flowers, a figure slowly emerged—Xia Jingshi, his expression calm and unreadable, eyes dark beneath the moonlight.
Despite the rush of arrangements, a royal wedding could never be ordinary. By dawn, the city was ablaze with color—bright banners fluttered along the walls, red silk draped over eaves, and festive music drifted through the air. The streets had been cleaned and polished until they gleamed. A crimson carpet stretched from the palace gates all the way to the guest house, where the imperial guards stood at attention every few steps, their spears glinting like silver flames.
As the auspicious hour approached, the crowd began to murmur—still no movement from within the guest house. Inside, Xia Jingshi, dressed in golden brocade and velvet, lounged in his chair with his eyes closed, exuding quiet authority. Xiao Weiran shifted uneasily before finally speaking up. “Your Highness, the time draws near.”
“No rush,” came the calm reply.
Moments later, hurried footsteps and Ning Fei’s voice echoed from the corridor. “We’re coming! We’re coming!” Xiao Weiran exhaled in relief and turned to greet them—only to nearly collide with Xue Ying.
Xue Ying brushed past him sharply, her tone laced with irony. “As expected of a true hero—ruthless and decisive. Ling Xueying is deeply impressed.” Xia Jingshi did not rise to the provocation. His voice was steady, even faintly amused. “Where is Yi Xiao?”
Xue Ying’s lips curled into a scoff, and she turned away without replying. Ning Fei quickly interjected, pointing toward the courtyard. “She’s already mounted her horse, waiting outside.”
Xia Jingshi finally stood, smoothing his robe with measured grace. “Then let’s depart.”
As the carriages and horses were being prepared, Xue Ying slipped away toward Yi Xiao’s horse. “If you don’t want to go,” she whispered fiercely, “then don’t. He can’t force us into the palace ceremony.”
Yi Xiao smiled faintly. “It’s alright. Go back to your carriage—we’re about to leave.”
Xue Ying frowned. “Why not ride with me? We can talk on the way.”
Yi Xiao reached down to pinch her cheek playfully. “Go on. I’ll be riding right beside you.”
With a pout, Xue Ying turned and climbed into her carriage, muttering under her breath.
From a distance, Xiao Weiran watched the exchange, a hint of relief easing his features. Yet when he looked toward the ceremonial carriage where Xia Jingshi sat, a trace of disapproval darkened his eyes. Earlier, when Yi Xiao hadn’t been seen, His Highness had ordered him to hurry her along. He had reported that both Yi Xiao and Xue Ying refused to attend the ceremony and had left guards to protect them at the guest house. He hadn’t expected the prince to summon them anyway. Perhaps His Highness’s actions were meant to protect her—but to Weiran, they felt uncomfortably inconsiderate.
He coughed lightly, drawing Ning Fei’s attention. Their eyes met; Ning Fei nodded and turned his horse, riding toward Yi Xiao’s carriage.
Yi Xiao was chatting softly with Xue Ying, who had just lifted the curtain, when Ning Fei rode up beside them. At once, Xue Ying dropped it again. Ning Fei looked helplessly at the curtained window before addressing Yi Xiao. “His Highness only worried about leaving you behind. Please don’t take it as a burden.”
Yi Xiao smiled faintly. “I understand. I’m just not fond of crowded occasions. Don’t worry too much.”
Ning Fei nodded, though concern still lingered in his eyes. “If you feel unwell after we arrive, find Weiran and have him take you back. I can stay with His Highness.”
From behind the curtain came Xue Ying’s sharp voice. “Stay with him for what? The precious princess will be fawning over him—she won’t harm him.”
Ning Fei wisely chose silence, only patting Yi Xiao’s shoulder lightly before turning back.
Yi Xiao watched him leave, her expression softening. “Once, His Highness was gravely injured but insisted on leading the troops himself. Weiran lost his temper and punched him square in the chest—knocked him right off his horse. When I rushed to help him, he patted my shoulder, just like Ning Fei did just now, and said, ‘If you come back on a stretcher, I’ll wake you with three punches every morning.’”
Xue Ying lifted the curtain slightly, snorting. “That’s exactly like Ning Fei. Were you fighting the Susha then?”
“Mm,” Yi Xiao nodded, reaching into her saddlebag. She tossed a small embroidered pouch into the carriage. “I don’t think I’ve ever shown you this.”
Xue Ying picked it up curiously. “The embroidery is exquisite, and this scent—such fine incense!”
Yi Xiao nearly slipped off her horse laughing. “I meant you should open it and look inside.”
Her words triggered a flash of memory.
“Yi Xiao doesn’t know needlework.”
“I told you to open it and look!”
Feng Suige’s voice echoed faintly in her mind.
That day, when he had pushed her out the door, she had almost said thank you. Luckily, the door had shut before the words escaped—or she might have frightened herself to death.
“…It’s a protective charm…” Xue Ying’s voice brought her back.
Yi Xiao turned to her. “What charm?”
Xue Ying was lounging against the window, tossing something between her fingers. “This arrowhead—someone actually carved words onto it for you. That’s not a weapon, that’s a charm. Where did it come from?”
“It’s not a charm,” Yi Xiao teased, eyes glinting. “Since it’s an arrowhead, naturally, it came from someone’s body.”
Xue Ying froze, then gave her a disgusted glare. “Stop trying to gross me out.”
Yi Xiao’s tone turned mock-serious. “It’s true. Look closely—you can still see the bloodstains. Maybe even a bit of flesh.”
“Fu Yi Xiao! I’m ending our friendship right now!” Xue Ying shrieked, hurling the arrowhead back at her. Yi Xiao caught it easily, laughing uncontrollably. Xue Ying furiously wiped her hands on the curtain. “If you want that filthy thing, come and get it yourself! You’re truly vile!”
Her outburst drew curious glances. Ning Fei turned back, puzzled, exchanging a look with Xiao Weiran. Both then looked toward Xia Jingshi.
He remained calm, but the faintest smile curved his lips. Whatever the cause, it was the first time in four years he had heard Yi Xiao laugh so freely.
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