Bǎihé was gracefully seated on a white horse, with Haoyu beside her on a black steed. Behind them rode Hépíng and Yíchén. Bǎihé and Haoyu were in deep conversation and laughter as they rode, leaving Yíchén and Hépíng in silence.
Hépíng glared at Yíchén, and Yíchén, noticing, stared back at her. She rolled her eyes in pity, leaving Yíchén in mild confusion—perhaps they had started off on the wrong foot somewhere.
"Hey, Hépíng, right?" Yíchén asked.
Hépíng ignored him.
"Uhm... I must have done something wrong?"
Hépíng sighed.
"I am Kōng—"
"I know who you are," Hépíng cut him off sharply.
"You're the incompetent general who failed to ensure Gōngzhǔ Fāng's safety, leading her to sprain her ankle." She rolled her eyes once again.
Yíchén was silent.
"I apologize. It happened so quickly I couldn't react. But I heard she's healing nicely."
"Hmph, yes she is. You're lucky."
Silence lingered.
"How long have you been with the princess? You seem quite devoted."
"Since... I was ten," Hépíng said, sitting upright a little more as she rode gracefully on her brown-haired horse.
"Ah, okay."
Another silence.
"What about you? How does a man like you end up with the prince of the great dynasty Fenglán? You look well-built enough to be a bodyguard. But in my opinion, you couldn't protect even a bee."
Yíchén grinned, his dimples showing playfully.
"What I lack in strength, I make up for in knowledge."
Hépíng studied him for a moment. He seemed... strangely familiar.
"Hmph, what could you possibly know?" she said mockingly.
"A lot," he replied as he spurred his horse forward, catching up to Haoyu and Bǎihé who were leading the way.
Hépíng felt uneasy at that and quickened her pace to join them.
⸻
They stopped at a dumpling house and ordered an assortment of dumplings. Hépíng and Yíchén insisted on sitting at a separate table from Bǎihé and Haoyu, not wishing to interrupt what was clearly a date. Besides, Hépíng wanted to avoid exposing how much Wangzǐ Feng made her nervous.
"Do you remember how much you loved red bean dumplings? We had such similar tastes," Bǎihé said as she tried to feed Haoyu one.
"I never liked them," he said flatly, shaking his head and refusing the bite.
Bǎihé blinked, confused. "But you mentioned you did once. I said it was my favorite, and you said it was yours."
Haoyu's jaw tightened.
"Maybe my taste buds have changed... because of the camp food," he said, his tone clipped, as if the question itself irritated him.
"Oh... okay." Bǎihé forced a small smile and popped a dumpling into her own mouth.
But the unease lingered. The ride had already felt awkward, and now this unsettled her more. It was as if she hardly knew Haoyu. He had once claimed eagerness to learn archery with her —yet now dismissed it when she brought it up. She didn't know he had despised leaving the palace—yet always insisted on accompanying her into the city. Was it truly because he wanted her to overcome her fears? She had thought he bore an adventurous spirit like her but... had his words and actions been a reflection of her desires all along? He seemed to mirror her likes and dislikes in the past, only to now deny them. Had everything she thought she knew about him been an illusion? had he changed that much? Or did she just realize she knew nothing about him.
Her gaze drifted across the table. Haoyu's eyes were lowered to his bowl, his posture stiff, his movements too measured. He was not the boy she remembered—the warmth was gone, replaced with something guarded, calculated.
"Do you still like the zither song, A Solemn Heart?" she asked quietly, as if reaching out for something familiar between them.
"Oh... yeah," Haoyu replied, though the pause before his answer was a shade too long.
"Shall we go to the Plum House sometime and hire a performer to play it for us?" Bǎihé offered with a smile.
Haoyu nodded, but his expression didn't shift.
"Or..." Bǎihé said, reaching for his hand,
"...you could play it for me, as you always did."
Haoyu's lips curved, but it was only the ghost of a smile.
⸻
At the opposite table, Yíchén studied Hépíng's restless glances at the couple.
"You seem invested in their conversation," he remarked lightly, startling her.
"I'm just making sure Bǎihé isn't in need of anything. I must stay alert... unlike you, slacking off."
Yíchén sighed.
"There's nothing to be alert about. Límíng is one of the safest cities. Guards stand watch on every corner. And really—what could possibly go wrong... on a date?"
Hépíng brushed off his words, though her unease lingered. The gentle laughter of Bǎihé drifted through the air like a melody.
Their food arrived—two bowls of steaming dumplings. Yíchén picked one up carefully with his chopsticks, taking a bite that revealed a glistening red paste.
"You like red bean dumplings?" Hépíng asked, wrinkling her nose.
"They've been my favorite since childhood. Not to your taste?"
"I mean... the princess loves them, so I suppose it's fine."
Yíchén only smiled faintly and ate another.
"How did you become advisor to Wangzǐ Feng?" Hépíng asked.
"I was chosen for the potential I carried."
"Your knowledge?" she pressed, her curiosity betraying her.
"You could say that."
"Are you... close to Wangzǐ Feng?"
"Relatively."
"So... yes?"
Yíchén raised an eyebrow. "Why are you interested now?"
"You asked me about my closeness to Gōngzhǔ Fāng. It's only right I ask the same."
"...Right," Yíchén murmured, his eyes lowering as if holding back words he could not yet speak.