The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

"Uncle-Master, my surname is Tangxi, my given name is Xue, and my nickname is Jingzhi."

Tang Xixue looked up at Yun Boyan, already prepared for his fury.

She even subtly moved her foot half a step back, making it easier to slip away at any time using the Cloud Tracking Step.

After all, the transmigrated woman who took over her body wrote ten romantic novels about her and Yun Boyan under her name.

From "The Cold and Aloof Holy Son's Nightly Desires" and "Entangled with a Femme Fatale" to "Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine Days of Being Favored by the Holy Son," the scale and wildness of the plots are simply breathtaking, and they have become a hot topic among the top geniuses in the Nine Provinces.

"Tangxi Xue...that...Princess Mirror."

Yun Boyan murmured the name, and was indeed stunned.

He had also heard about the "untold story" between him and Princess Mirror—there was no way around it, Yunjue's intelligence network in the Dark Realm was not just for show.

He had even accidentally read a few pages of those storybooks, and at the time he only felt angry and embarrassed, his whole body turning red. Now...

Now—it seems to have turned into "him and his sister-in-law's One Thousand and One Nights," instantly filling him with a sense of taboo and sending chills down his spine.

He didn't dare let his elder brother know that those books had ever existed, fearing that his brother would punish him in a fit of anger.

However, he did not get angry at Tang Xixue.

Those eyes were as still as a deep pool, reflecting Tang Xixue's slightly nervous face.

He knew better than anyone that it wasn't her intention.

At that time, her soul was still trapped somewhere unknown.

Her body was possessed by demons and monsters, who forcibly tore her flawless white snow into the dust and mud, leaving her to be ridiculed and bullied.

A faint trace of pity even surfaced in his eyes, like a glimmer of light on the snow.

"Uncle-Master, I've remembered this." His tone remained calm, but with a touch of warmth. "If you encounter any problems you can't solve in the future, take this fan and go to Yun Jue."

If her brother knew the grievances she had suffered over the years, he would be heartbroken.

That person cherished this little apprentice dearly, otherwise they wouldn't have...

"I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave."

He still needed to find a way to save his brother.

time is limited.

If we delay any longer—it might truly be beyond repair.

"Wait, Uncle-Master, where is my master? When can I see him?"

Tang Xixue hurriedly asked, took a step forward, and looked at him with hopeful, wet eyes, like two starlight lamps suddenly lit in the dark night.

She missed her master so much that her heart ached.

She wanted to tell him that she hadn't let him down, that she had survived with great strength.

Even though it was incredibly difficult, she still managed to crawl out of the abyss of darkness, her soul never losing its light.

"My brother is in seclusion in Kunlun Ruins, so it may be inconvenient for him to meet with Zhizhi."

Yun Boyan paused in his departing steps, turned his back to her, and said calmly.

His brother was such a proud man.

The clouds of the Nine Heavens and the lotus of Kunlun Mountain, how could they be willing to let their most cherished little disciple see him in this miserable and desolate state, unable to stand up again, even blind and fallen to the dust?

His eyes, which once held the light of stars and swords... will never see his little apprentice again.

"Uncle-Master, could you please deliver a letter to him for me?"

Tang Xixue's voice was indescribably lonely, like a butterfly's wings dampened by rain, trembling gently.

"Can."

Yun Boyan responded with a sound of agreement.

He had initially resented her for the sake of his brother, who had become what he was today because of her—and even felt sorry for his brother.

Why is that?

Why would he sacrifice everything for someone else?

But at this moment, looking into her misty, sorrowful eyes, and at her straight back despite her suppressed disappointment, he seemed to understand his brother a little better.

Some people are worth it.

"Thank you, Uncle-Master! Please come in and have a seat. I'll finish writing it soon."

Tang Xixue said with delight, her eyes suddenly lighting up as if she had fallen into a galaxy.

"Little Imperial Uncle? What are you still doing here?"

She glanced at Bei Chenji, her tone returning to a more casual tone—Isn't he leaving yet? Doesn't he hate being with her the most?

"May I also go in and sit for a while? Is that alright?"

Bei Chenji was somewhat hurt, his voice carrying a sense of grievance that he himself was unaware of.

Does she dislike him that much?

Not even willing to take a second look?

"please."

Tang Xixue paused for a moment, then thought that this Jingye Xuelu was once a residence personally supervised by Beichen Ji's mother, so it was only natural that he wanted to come in and take a look.

She wasn't that cold-hearted.

To be honest, it was her young imperial uncle who unilaterally disliked her.

For her, it was the kindness her young imperial uncle had shown her.

He taught her to ride a horse, brought her sugar paintings from outside the palace, and stood in front of her with a cold face when she was bullied by other royal children.

She still remembers.

She is grateful to all those who have shown her kindness.

Though the snow is cold, it remembers every ray of light that has shone upon it.

Yun Boyan stepped into Jingye Xuelu, his silver hair shimmering like moonlight under the lanterns on the porch.

Bei Chenji paused at the entrance for a moment, then looked up at the black plaque with gold characters: "Jingye Xuelu".

His lips twitched noticeably.

"Tangxi Xuanyin—he's truly shameless."

He muttered a curse under his breath, so softly that only he could hear it.

I always felt that Emperor Shengchen cared too much about Tang Xixue. Now, seeing the plaque of Jingye Xuelu, with Tang Xixue's handwriting clearly visible, it's truly impressive.

And look at her name again—"Mirror" is her title, "Night" is Tangxi Night's name, and "Snow" is her given name.

Tang Xiye was incredibly possessive; he wanted to brand everything about her with his own mark.

"Shuang'er, serve tea."

Tang Xixue's voice came from inside the house, light and melodious.

"Brew a cup of Snow Valley White Tea for your martial uncle. And for your little imperial uncle, bring a cup of gardenia tea."

"Please sit here for a while, I'll come back as soon as I finish writing the letter."

She turned and went into the study, where Qingdai had thoughtfully turned on the light.

Li Shuang then quickly began preparing the tea.

This wasn't Bei Chenji's first time visiting this house.

When he has an attack, he often hides here, curled up in a corner, letting the excruciating pain gnaw at his bones.

But this place used to be a truly gloomy, dilapidated, and abandoned house, with cobwebs everywhere and crumbling beams and pillars, just like his desolate heart, full of dust and the smell of decay.

But now, its new owner has brought this place back to life from its desolation.

A gentle breeze rustles the new bamboo shoots, ripples spread across the pond, and the newly hung copper bells under the eaves tinkle softly.

The feng shui here has been skillfully altered, and craftsmen are working hard to repair it during the day. Now the entire courtyard seems to be awakening in the moonlight.

As the energy flows, it has already created a layout that is both tranquil and dynamic.

Even the air was filled with a faint fragrance of plum blossoms and ink.

"Your Highness, here's your tea."

Qingdai placed a plain white porcelain cup on the rosewood table beside the soft couch. The soup in the cup was clear and bright, with a few dried gardenia flowers floating on it, their fragrance delicate and faint.

When Bei Chenji held that cup of gardenia tea, his expression was one of daze.

He likes gardenias.

He kept this a secret very well.

Even his personal attendants were unaware of it.

But how could his little Xue'er be so considerate?

When did she notice it?

And why... do you still remember?

She watched quietly, remembering that he liked gardenias and that he always smelled the fragrance before drinking tea.

She is really, really gentle.

It was clearly snow, yet it melted silently into warm spring water.

"Your Holiness, your tea."

Li Shuang timidly served Yun Boyan Xuejian white tea, her fingertips trembling slightly, almost knocking the teacup over.

Yun Boyan took the tea, somewhat puzzled—these maids seemed to be very afraid of him?

Is he really that scary?

He lowered his eyes and took a sip of tea. It was clear, sweet, and mellow, indeed his brother's favorite Xuejian white tea.

Coincidentally, his and his brother's tastes were always exactly the same, without any difference.

The unspoken understanding between twins is sometimes so strange that even they themselves find it uncanny.

Little did he know that Qingdai and Lishuang, who were standing to the side, were extremely uncomfortable, their foreheads practically beaded with cold sweat.

After all, the romantic story between the Holy Son of Yuefan and her prince was written by Qingdai herself.

She embellished the original account given by the woman who had traveled through time, adding many details.

Li Shuang and others were responsible for copying and distributing the copies.

The maids and guards all knew very well what was written in that storybook.

From bathing together under the moon to being imprisoned in a secret chamber, from the Buddhist temple to horseback riding, from sword sheaths to prayer beads wrapped around the wrist...

Now—the person in question is sitting right in front of me, with snow-white hair, aloof features, and an otherworldly appearance.

They were drenched in sweat!

They only pray that the Holy Son never knows that they contributed to those books, otherwise they fear they will not see the sun rise tomorrow.

Inside the study, Tang Xixue spread out a sheet of plain paper and dipped her brush in ink.

The pen tip hovered over the paper, yet remained suspended for a long time.

A thousand words stuck in my throat, but in the end, they all boiled down to one sentence:

"Master... Zhizhi misses you."

The ink gradually dried under the lamp, like a silent tear.