The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Yun Boyan's lips twitched almost imperceptibly, and he lowered his eyes, saying calmly:

You may call me Martial Uncle.

"Uncle-Master."

Tang Xixue called out, her voice clear and melodious, like the first drop of spring water seeping out when the ice first cracks in spring.

But the next sentence carries a hint of anger and a warning:

"Uncle-Master, please don't pretend to be my master next time, or I'm afraid I might impulsively... slip my hand."

She smiled, her eyes crinkling, but the smile didn't reach the depths of her eyes.

What's wrong with this person?

Why would he impersonate her master for no reason?

She almost, really just a hair's breadth away, from drawing blood from the Cold Jade Snow Soul Fan.

Yun Boyan was also helpless.

His silver-gray eyes gazed at the distant horizon, as if he could see his brother's pleading expression through the deep night.

He sighed inwardly—brother, this doesn't count as him breaking his promise, does it?

"Tsk."

A soft, ambiguous snort broke the slightly delicate atmosphere.

Bei Chenji had returned to the courtyard at some point, standing with his arms crossed, his crimson robes billowing like night wings under the moonlight.

His gaze fell on Tang Xixue, his eyebrows slightly raised, his tone complex and difficult to decipher:

"So, Xue'er, your master... is Xie Jinlian?"

That white-haired sword immortal who was renowned throughout the Nine Provinces for his mastery of swordsmanship?

The legendary, detached master of Kunlun Ruins?

He paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and his eyes became somewhat strange.

Looking Tang Xixue up and down, it was as if he was seeing his little niece clearly for the first time:

"You... are you the little sword immortal of the Asura Terrace tonight?"

He had personally witnessed the sword defeat Qi Wang, and possessed the extraordinary skills of Cloud Step and Ten Thousand Butterflies Flying Together, which aroused his strong desire to recruit him. He even went so far as to secretly compete with Yun Boyan in order to bring him under his command... a peerless genius?

It turns out, it was his frail and helpless little Xue'er?

What exactly did he miss?

How many secrets has she kept hidden from him all these years?

The moonlight shone on her face, and those familiar eyebrows and eyes now seemed strange yet dazzling.

"Little Imperial Uncle has already chased us all the way here, and you're still asking?"

Tang Xixue blinked, revealing an innocent yet wary expression, like a cunning white fox with its ears perked up.

"What, did Number Nine offend you? I just went to the Asura Platform to earn some money, is that illegal?"

She muttered something under her breath, but her voice was loud enough for the two people with exceptional hearing to hear clearly:

"I won fair and square—I didn't steal, I didn't rob, I didn't use any underhanded tricks. The one who tricked the Seven Generations Pavilion is the one who tricked them; it's none of your business, Little Imperial Uncle..."

"I am not here to interrogate you."

Bei Chenji interrupted her, his voice unconsciously lowering, carrying an unprecedented sense of loss.

Seeing her subconsciously defensive posture, I felt as if my heart was being pricked by countless needles, a subtle and unfamiliar pain rising within me.

So this is what it feels like to have a needle pierce your skin.

How could things have come to this between them?

She treated him with a guarded shell, not even offering a single explanation.

A complex mix of emotions surged in his eyes—regret, pain, and confusion—which ultimately coalesced into a scorching light that made it almost impossible for him to look directly into her clear eyes.

He finally asked the question that had troubled him for years, a question that now seemed to have an answer:

"I only want to ask...that year, on that snowy night by Mirror Moon Lake, when I was unconscious..."

His voice was slightly hoarse, each word seemingly squeezed out with difficulty from the depths of his chest, carrying the taste of blood and ice:

"The one who played the zither on the lake and draped a fox fur coat over me... was that you?

One person finally grew a mouth.

For uncertain matters, instead of speculating or deceiving yourself, speak up and ask directly.

Upon hearing this, Tang Xixue was slightly taken aback, then suddenly realized, her expression as natural as if she were talking about a trivial matter:

"Oh, Little Imperial Uncle is referring to that matter."

She tilted her head, memories drifting like wisps of smoke across her eyes:

"That night, my master and I met at Mirror Moon Lake and happened to see Little Imperial Uncle lying in the snow. I was afraid you would get cold, so I covered you with my favorite snow fox fur coat."

"At that time, I was afraid that the young prince would feel ashamed when he woke up, so I didn't dare to show myself. I only had the guards keep watch from a distance, and then quietly left when your people arrived... Could it be that the young prince was still frostbitten that night?"

His words carried genuine concern and doubt, as if it were just a casual, insignificant act of kindness—as natural as helping a flower branch broken by the weight of snow as one passes by.

However, these words struck Bei Chenji like a thunderclap, and like a warm current unexpectedly flowing over his heart, which had been frozen for many years.

original……

She was so thoughtful, so considerate of his ridiculous pride and dignity.

In his most vulnerable, most disheveled, and self-loathing moments, she offered him warmth and protection, yet quietly withdrew, keeping him from knowing and from embarrassing him.

She hid her kindness so deeply that he made a mistake, and it's been so many years.

"No..." His throat tightened, his voice so low it was almost broken, each syllable sounding like it was being ground on sandpaper, "I just... haven't yet thanked Xiaoxue'er."

My nose suddenly stung with tears.

Something hot and sour welled up in my eyes without warning, almost spilling out.

How many years has it been since he last felt the urge to cry?

Even when his mother passed away, he simply held back his tears, letting them freeze in the shadows.

The pain didn't make him cry; instead, the warmth brought tears to his eyes.

He abruptly turned his face away, looking at the dilapidated red camellia swaying in the night wind in a corner of the courtyard.

He forcefully suppressed the surging emotions, his knuckles turning slightly white from the effort, his nails digging deep into his palm.

He really mistook someone for someone else.

Mistaking a pearl for a fish eye, and white snow for dust.

Previously, he had been so fierce, so cold, so self-righteous in his reprimands and estrangement from her, cutting her with the coldest gaze and pushing her away with the harshest words.

He recalled those moments when he stood by indifferently as she was wronged...

Every scene at this moment transforms into a fine whip, lashing fiercely at his heart, leaving invisible bloodstains.

He deserves to die!

"Uncle-Master doesn't even know—your junior disciple's name?"

Yun Boyan spoke at the opportune moment, his voice as clear and cold as ever, breaking the almost stagnant air.

Hearing their conversation, he roughly understood that this junior disciple was probably a princess of the royal family.

It's just unknown which one of them had such a deep connection with his brother.

"cough."

This time, it was Tang Xixue's turn to be embarrassed.

Is this something she can say?

She glanced at the young imperial uncle Bei Chenji, then at Yun Boyan, her mind racing:

If my martial uncle were to draw his sword and attack her, would my little imperial uncle stand by with his arms crossed, watching the spectacle?

They might even offer you some sunflower seeds.