Deep winter. Snow reflected the moonlight, making the courtyard seem even colder. Ling Yan stood under the eaves, staring out at the silent white world. The wind whipped her black robes, but she didn't seem to notice. Her lips were pressed tight, holding something back.
Inside the study, a silhouette was cast against the paper window by the lamp. So clear she felt she could reach out and touch it. She watched it, her eyes heavy with sorrow.
Suddenly, the shadow vanished. She started.
"It's cold out. If you have something to say, come in." Xue Feiyan opened the door, his voice flat. He turned back to his desk and picked up his medical book, not looking at her.
Standing out there in the cold… is she trying to see how long I can suffer?
She turned slowly. Just one step toward the warmth radiating from the room, and she hesitated. She was used to the cold. The warmth she craved now felt like a danger.
"Don't make me carry you inside," he said, turning a page.
She lowered her eyes and stepped in, closing the door against the biting wind.
"Come here." His tone was still flat, a hint of anger buried deep, impossible to read.
She walked to his side and stood, her hands hidden in her sleeves, fingers twisting together.
He finally looked up from his book. He stared at her for a long moment, then reached out and took her wrist, three fingers resting on her pulse. His grip was gentle, but firm. There was no escape.
After a while, he released her and sighed. "At least it hasn't gotten worse." He looked at her, his eyes full of reproach.
She looked away, tucking her hand back into her sleeve.
"Have you forgotten everything I told you?" He stood, forcing her to meet his gaze. A dark anger rose in him. He wanted to strangle this woman who cared so little for her own life.
"This subordinate wouldn't dare." She bowed.
"Wouldn't dare? I think you're very daring," he snapped. "If I hadn't found out, you would have gone in Snow Wolf's place, wouldn't you?"
"The mission was critical. I felt safer going myself."
"Safer? You felt safer. Ling Yan, did you ever think about me?" He grabbed her shoulders, his other hand tilting her chin up.
"My… my lord…" Seeing the red rimming his eyes, her heart spasmed. A suffocating pain spread through her chest.
"To go on this mission, you swallowed five days' worth of cough suppressants at once. Ling Yan, were you going on a mission, or were you looking for death?" When he had seen the five empty jade bottles in her room, his hands had shaken uncontrollably. He thought she understood his heart. But in the end, she was still throwing her life away.
"Yes. I was looking for death!" She shoved him away, stumbling and falling to the floor.
"Ling Yan." He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.
"I'm useless now! Silence and invisibility are the most basic skills of an assassin, and I can't even do that anymore. You taught me for nine years. I just wanted to repay you in my own way." She slammed her hand on the table, her head hanging low. Tears fell, one by one, onto the wood. The room was silent, save for her quiet sobs.
He stared at her, shocked. Each tear felt like a blow to his heart.
"Alright, silly girl. Don't cry." He pulled her into his arms. "Who asked you to repay me? Why do you always decide these things on your own?"
She kept her head down, refusing to answer, pushing against his chest.
"You said you wouldn't dare forget." He took her hands. "I told you, you are not just an assassin. You are not just a part of Night Blade. Where did those words go?"
"Ten years to grind a sword. I didn't want to waste all your effort."
"How do you know my nine years of effort were wasted?" He smiled gently, wiping the tears from her face.
"Didn't you save me so I could be your sharpest blade? I never wanted to fail you. But now… I'm ruined." Her voice faded to a whisper.
"You have failed my intentions," he said seriously. "But you are not ruined."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "I've shown you my heart, and you've run away, again and again. Isn't that failing me? But it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are still by my side. One day, you will have nowhere left to run."
"My lord."
"Feiyan." He tapped her lips. "From today, call me by my name."
"I wouldn't dare." She flinched. "I cannot speak my lord's name."
He sighed and picked her up, carrying her to the couch. "If you won't call me by name, then how about 'husband'?"
She stared at him, speechless. He smiled, a triumphant, almost boyish grin on his face.
"I cannot marry you properly yet, but I will make it happen as soon as I can." His voice was clear, more serious than she had ever heard it. "I am not strong enough yet. I cannot choose everything for myself. I need time. Ling Yan, will you wait for me? Wait for the day I can marry you with full rites?"
She stared into his watery eyes. All she saw was his joy, and her own disbelief.
"Me?" she finally asked.
"Yes. You. Ling Yan. The one who has been by my side, day and night, for nine years."
"I don't understand." There had never been a shortage of beauties around him, women who pined for him.
"Perhaps," he smiled, "it's because love grows with time."
Was it? He didn't know. He only knew that when he finally realized it, this woman who had walked through life and death with him was already in his heart, and he couldn't let her go.
"What about Lady Deng? How will you explain it to the Deng family?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"If I am forced to marry Deng Qinyu, I will strip her of her title once I take the throne. The Deng family are imperial in-laws. I will not nurse a tiger to threaten me."
She stared at him, a sudden fear gripping her. He didn't care about Deng Qinyu. He didn't care about Murong Yu, who loved him. Did the women who loved him mean nothing? And what about her? Would she, too, become just a passing stranger in his life one day?
"What are you thinking?" He saw her expression harden, and felt a sudden unease.
"If one day, I become like Murong Yu or Deng Qinyu… will you tell me clearly?" she asked, her voice quiet and desolate.
His heart ached. She still didn't have faith in this feeling.
"That day will never come." He stood, hands behind his back. "I have never asked that word—love—of anyone. Not before, and not in the future. Ling Yan, to me, you are not them."
"Hm?" She was confused. She was Ling Yan. Of course she wasn't them.
He laughed softly and tapped her forehead. "Silly girl. Because you are the right one. I cannot love everyone who loves me. I can only promise to love the one I believe is right, with all my heart."
And that person was Ling Yan. No one else.
"I know you still don't believe me. An assassin trained by Night Blade who trusts too easily would be a failure."
"I believe you." She looked up, her eyes bright. "But it is not a failure. Because, to me, you are not anyone else."
He froze. Before he could even smile, his arms moved on their own, pulling her tight against him.
There were many things a man wanted in life. If there was an order to them, then in this moment, Xue Feiyan felt he had no regrets.
The next day, after seeing Xue Liulan off, Murong Jin wandered through the empty palace of the late Empress. Bored, she slipped away to visit Murong Yu, who lived nearby.
Murong Yu opened the door, surprised. "You're unwell. Why did you come?"
"How have you been, cousin?" Murong Jin took her hand. "I thought you were lonely, so I came to see you."
"I'm fine." Her tone said otherwise. "You're just like when we were children. You can't sit still."
Murong Jin smiled and followed her inside. She glanced around the room and sighed inwardly. Even though the Crown Prince had been dead for over a year, Murong Yu still lived simply, dressed in plain clothes, as if she were still in mourning. The anniversary of his death would never truly pass for her.
As she thought, she heard a faint sound. Footsteps. It might have been her imagination, but her suspicion was instantly aroused.