In the posthouse, Xue Liulan leaned back, a smile on his face as he watched Guyu. "You're saying my seventh brother went to Yan Town with only one woman?"
"Yes. My men saw it. And they broke the Nine-Turn Chain Bells." Guyu answered, her gaze flicking to Murong Jin, who was standing by the window.
She had been there since Guyu arrived, arms crossed, staring outside. It was early winter now, but she stood by the open window, unafraid of the cold. Or maybe, Guyu thought, a woman like her is afraid of nothing.
"I see. Report back if there's anything else," Xue Liulan said, rising.
"Yes." Guyu took her leave.
He walked to the window and wrapped his arms around Murong Jin from behind. "Aren't you cold?"
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "It's fine. It helps me think."
"Oh? What's on your mind?" He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
"You have men watching him. Are you planning to kill him?" she asked, her gaze fixed on the desolate courtyard.
"I won't kill him." He turned her to face him. "We may be rivals for the throne, but I will not take his life."
"Brothers fighting to the death over a throne… it's not unheard of," she said.
"True." He shook his head. "But I promised my eldest brother I would never kill one of my own."
Her hand tightened. "The Crown Prince… his reputation for benevolence was well-earned. But in a fight for the throne, it's not as simple as 'if I don't strike, no one will strike me.'"
At the mention of the Crown Prince, his expression darkened. He looked up, the grief already hidden behind composure, and pulled her closer, resting his head on her shoulder.
After a moment, he said, "Are you afraid he'll strike first?"
"I've heard of the Nine-Turn Chain Bells. For him to have broken them with just one other person… their skills must be incredible. Honestly, if that woman were here now under his orders, I wouldn't be able to stop her." She smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.
"The bells were from his household. Of course he knows how to break them. And besides, as much as we disagree, it would never come to killing." His eyes were full of confidence, as if he knew his brother better than anyone.
"You're that certain?"
"Of course. Know your enemy, and know yourself. Right?" He gave a lazy stretch. It was nearly noon, the sun bright and cold.
"Brothers, after all," she said softly. The thought of them fighting disgusted her.
"Don't think about it. Come, I'll take you somewhere." He grabbed her hand.
"Where?"
He didn't answer, just pulled a cloak from a rack and draped it over her shoulders. "You'll see."
And so, dressed in a simple ivory gown, she was pulled from the posthouse.
They were in Ye City, a place famous for its stationery. She had heard of it, but never been.
"Where are we going?" she asked. He was also in plain clothes, a robe of pale blue that made him look even more dashing.
"Have you heard of Xue Moyan?" he asked, stopping to re-tie the loose ribbon on her cloak.
"The Sixth Prince?" she asked, looking down at his hands.
"Mm."
"Of course. They say he's proud and dislikes the court. I've heard he once took first place in the imperial examinations under a false name." She took his hands, pressing her warm palms against his cold ones.
"Ye City is his domain. He stays here for a few days every year."
"So that's why we're resting here. You're here to see him." A thought struck her. "Don't tell me you're trying to pull him to your side."
"Moyan?" He shook his head. "With his temperament? It would be easier to convince our seventh brother to give up the throne."
"Hah. That proud?" She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "The sons of the dragon are all so different. Now I'm rather curious to meet him."
He smiled and slid his arm around her. The streets were still bustling, lined with bookshops and stalls selling decorated paper.
She stopped at one, picking up a sheet printed with a crabapple blossom. "What do you think?"
He looked at it. "Nice. The blossom looks a little sleepy, but it has a certain charm."
"Sleepy?" She looked closer. "I thought it looked lazy."
"If you like it, shall I buy you a stack?" he asked, his head close to hers.
She shook her head and put the paper down.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just… such fine paper would be wasted on me." Miles from home, with no one to write to.
In the moment she was lost in thought, he had already paid the vendor and tucked a stack of the paper into his sleeve.
"Even if you don't write letters, you can use it for poetry," he said with a laugh.
A sly look entered her eyes. "If I'm bored, I can practice my sword. As for such romantic pastimes, you have the wrong person."
"Do I?" he asked. "Then who was it, that day by the stream, who recited, 'The water carries the fallen blossoms away, yet the world is still a riot of color'?"
She froze. It was before they were married. They had run into Deng Qinyu, who had taunted her. And before she could say a word, he had stepped in. She has someone to marry her.
He had married this general. Not only married her, but loved her.
"So you were there, hiding," she said, looking up at him.
He just smiled and pulled her closer. "I had already promised to marry you. I couldn't just let someone carry you off, could I?"
"Liar. That's not what you were thinking."
"No, it wasn't," he admitted freely. He tightened his arm, pulling her fully into his embrace.
"Hm?"
He smiled softly. "But is it too late for me to think it now?"
A blush rose on her cheeks. "If it were, I'd be calling you a scoundrel."
They walked on, laughing, until they arrived before a tavern. The golden plaque above the door read, "The Universe in a Pot."
"He's here?"
"When he received this city, he gave the funds to a merchant and had this place opened," he explained. "It may not look like much, but don't think of going in without three to five hundred pieces of silver."
"That much?"
"Since it is a universe, it must contain things rarely seen on earth, and never in the heavens," a voice interjected from the doorway.
She turned. A young man was standing there, giving them a slight bow.
"It's been a while," Xue Liulan said, returning the salute. He gestured to Murong Jin. "My wife, Murong Jin."
"The Lord of Yuling, General Murong. I've heard much about you," the young man said, his eyes sweeping over her in a polite, smiling assessment.
She returned the salute. Something in his tone made her think of a blade hidden in silk.