The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

After the snow cleared in Baiyujing, the world was like a crystal world sculpted from ice.

The azure sky, washed clean by last night's snow, was as clear as silk, with a few wisps of clouds drifting by leisurely, like a piece of white silk casually cut by an immortal.

Meixuewu, on the outskirts of the city, is the busiest place today.

Distant mountains are shrouded in mist, while nearby ridges are piled high with jade.

Clouds drift like ribbons around the mountainside, and mist hangs like gauze, half-concealing the plum grove.

A thousand rare plum trees are planted along the mountainside, their red calyxes adorned with snow and their white stamens containing ice. Their sparse shadows are reflected on the unfrozen lake surface, where ice crystals and shimmering waves intertwine, creating a sparkling, shimmering effect.

Pavilions and waterside terraces are scattered among the trees, with translucent icicles hanging from the upturned eaves, resembling a uniquely crafted jade bonsai.

Today, Madam Feng, the mistress of the Zhenbei Marquis's residence, is hosting a "Plum Blossom Banquet" here, inviting nobles from the capital, envoys from various countries, and young talents from all over the country.

The most solemn invitations were from the young ladies of prominent families, all of whom were of marriageable age—ostensibly for appreciating plum blossoms, but in reality for finding a suitable match.

"Mother, I will not marry."

A young general in a crimson outfit stood under the eaves, the fiery unicorn pattern on his clothes blazing brightly in the snow.

Her high ponytail, tied with a silver crown, swayed in the wind, and the wolf fang pendant around her neck lightly tapped against her chainmail. Her vibrant spirit almost shattered the carefully constructed elegant garden landscape.

Feng Zhuo frowned, his tone resolute:

"You don't need to bother looking at her—lest things get awkward and you ruin the girl's reputation for nothing."

Lady Feng wore a sandalwood-colored jacket and skirt embroidered with gold butterflies, over which she wore a fox fur pleated cloak, exuding an air of elegance and grace.

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Her hand holding the cup paused slightly as she looked up to examine her young son.

This child was born like a wildfire, and over the years, there has only been one person who has made him temper his brilliance and even willingly submit.

"Zhuo'er," she spoke softly, her gaze gentle yet all-knowing, "even if you have no interest in this, you should at least consider your brother's feelings. Do you really want your future sister-in-law to be a girl whose temperament clashes with yours?"

Seeing Feng Zhuo's expression shift slightly, she sighed softly, "There used to be someone who could tame this wild horse of yours... That child, I truly loved him."

Feng Zhuo suddenly turned her face away, but her ears turned slightly red.

"A true man should be tolerant of others." Madam Feng's fingertips brushed across the plum blossom branch on the table, her voice as soft as falling snow. "One should cherish the one they love even more, how can one be petty and nitpicky?"

She looked up, her gaze clear as a mirror: "That Xue is such a good child. It must be that you made a mistake that caused you to drift apart from her."

"I—I didn't!"

The young general abruptly turned his head to retort, but his eyes dimmed for a moment, and his voice betrayed a hint of barely perceptible grievance.

"Let's go, A-Zhuo."

A calm voice came from behind.

The heir of the Marquis of Zhenbei, Feng Yi, stood before the steps in a dark blue brocade robe, his figure as steadfast as a snow-covered pine tree, exuding a calm and composed demeanor honed over the years.

He is the silent cloud beneath the northern sky, not vying for the color of firelight, but truly the silent mountain that supports the mountains and rivers.

"Brother, you'd better choose carefully! I don't want a troublemaker as a sister-in-law!"

Feng Zhuo felt as if he had been granted a pardon and hurried to catch up with his brother.

"Ah Zhuo," Feng Yi said with a composed gait, the dark iron thumb ring on her left hand gleaming with an eerie light—it was the token of the successive heirs of the Zhenbei Marquis's mansion. "Among the noble ladies of the Nine Provinces, no one can cause more trouble than your beloved."

He glanced sideways, a faint smile flickering in his eyes: "She will definitely come today. You can tolerate someone as unconventional as her, why worry about others?"

"Brother!" Feng Zhuo suddenly stopped, his red robe fluttering in the wind. "Ah Xue is just... just a free spirit! Since the world allows men to have three wives and four concubines, what harm is there for a princess like her to have a few more?"

Feng Yi silently stared at his younger brother for a moment, then slowly looked away: "Stay away from your brother."

He suddenly felt a little worried—whether this eccentricity was contagious.

"However..." Feng Zhuo took a half step closer, lowered her voice, and a suspicious blush appeared on her cheeks, "Brother, I think... I've fallen for someone else."

The wind suddenly turned its head.

"Explain in detail."

"Last night on the Asura Platform of the Seven Worlds Pavilion," the young general's eyes darted around, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of his sword, "I met a young man in white... and fell in love at first sight."

He raised his hand to his chest, his voice almost dreamlike: "When I saw him, this... was pounding fiercely."

Feng Yi stood silently in the snow, his dark blue robe covered in ice crystals. After a long silence, he spoke slowly, each word seemingly ground out from between his teeth:

"I suddenly realize that Princess Mirror is extremely wonderful."

If my mother heard these words, she would probably faint on the spot.

"Oh my god!"

A girl's hushed gasp suddenly rang out from behind the artificial rockery.

Shen Nian, the eldest daughter of the Shen family, covered her mouth and glared, nearly dropping the handkerchief in her hand:

"General Feng is actually a homosexual! No wonder he never even glances at those noble ladies of Lintai..."

To prevent her sisters from going astray, she immediately lifted her skirt and ran towards the warm chamber.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, this secret has spread like wildfire—

"Have you heard? That young general from the Marquis of Zhenbei's mansion..."

"No wonder he rejected all marriage proposals..."

"So she's taken a liking to Qi Wang!"

"They're said to be a pair of bickering lovers... They've been at odds for so many years, and now..."

"Poor Lady Feng is still running around making arrangements..."

Whispers, as faint as the buzzing of mosquitoes, drifted quietly among the fragrant clothes and swaying hair.

As the Feng Zhuo brothers stepped into the Floating Fragrance Pavilion, countless gazes, some open and some hidden, swept over them, weaving together an invisible net.

"What are you looking at? Haven't you ever seen someone as handsome as me before?"

Deep within the plum grove lies the Moon-Scooping Pavilion.

Steam rose from the medicine stove, mingling with the bitter scent of herbs and wood, drifting over the stone railing.

Si Xingzhou slowly stirred the pottery jar with a silver spoon, but his gaze fell on his younger brother sitting opposite him.

Si Xingxuan was wrapped in a snow fox fur cloak, his pale face almost the same color as the snow that had fallen on his shoulders.

He lowered his eyes and focused intently, his fingertips lightly tracing the pages of the book—the edges of that volume of "The Record of the Heavenly Weaving Veins" were worn and frayed, clearly having been read countless times.

"Brother, why come here?" His voice was slightly hoarse, like thin ice about to crack. "It's so boring."

"Don't be impatient, Ah Zhe," Si Xingzhou scooped up a spoonful of medicine, carefully filtering out the dregs, "The show... is about to begin."

He glanced at the traditional Chinese medicine book in his brother's hand, a complex expression flashing across his eyes.

"You remain as obsessed as ever with the works of the Weaver of Fate Physician."

In the study of Zheyue Palace, three entire walls were covered with the works of Zhiming Tianyi.

He didn't understand why this frail and sickly boy was so persistent, but as long as there was still light in his brother's eyes, he was willing to give his all.

"Junior Martial Aunt," Si Xingxuan suddenly spoke, a spark igniting in his desolate eyes, "is a woman of extraordinary talent, with a pen that can write beautifully and a mind that can hold the stars."

The usually sharp-tongued and venomous Divine Physician Zheyue spoke with utter sincere admiration:

"It is a great regret that I have never seen it in my life."

He had no idea how many days he had left.

Perhaps we will never live to see that extraordinary talent, who exists only in the words of medical classics, share a cup of tea with him from afar.