The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Outside the Hall of Flowing Fireflies, icicles hung from the eaves, swirling with tiny sparkles in the sunlight.

Those were notes frozen by the cold winter, waiting only for the east wind to shine, and they would become melodious tunes.

The distant mountains are covered in snow, as white as a blank sheet of paper, turning the world into a long ink painting scroll.

Where the mountain ridges undulate, there are blank spaces left by the Creator.

"The sky is clear and the air is fresh today."

Tang Xixue leaned down and whispered in Xie Jinlian's ear.

Her voice was clear and soft, like pearls falling on crystal steps, each one distinctly rolling into his ears.

The voice carried a low, soothing tone, like coaxing a cat that had been curled up in the winter for too long and was finally looking forward to the spring sunshine.

"Little Lotus, would you like to go outside for some fresh air?"

Xie Jinlian turned her head slightly.

Beneath the white veil covering her face, a faint smile appeared on her exquisite features.

The smile was faint, so faint that it was almost invisible—but if you looked closely, you could see the barely concealed expectation at the corner of the lips.

"Um."

He paused, his voice deep and mellow, like the wind rustling through a deep ravine, carrying a hint of gentle lingering:

"I want to be with Zhizhi."

I'm fine with going anywhere.

As long as I can be with her.

"Then I'll push you out."

Tang Xixue straightened up and placed her hands on the handles of the white jade wheelchair. She looked up at the silver-robed figure not far away, her voice light and melodious:

"Ayan, clear out the hidden sentries around here. Don't let any fools spoil Master's good mood."

"it is good."

Yun Boyan responded and disappeared. A corner of his silver robe fluttered in the wind, and he vanished in an instant into the light and shadow at the end of the corridor.

"Zhizhi, where are we going?"

Xie Jinlian asked.

His hand rested lightly on the armrest of the wheelchair, his knuckles turning slightly white—a small gesture he only made when he was nervous.

Tang Xixue pushed her wheelchair, step by step, across the snow-covered stone path.

The wheel tracks meandered two thin lines on the snow, as if time had left a gentle footnote here.

"There is a plum blossom grove behind the Hall of Fireflies."

Her voice was clear and ethereal, like a wind chime under the eaves being struck by the spring breeze. Falling upon this silver-clad world, it seemed even more pristine than the snow itself.

"The flowers are in full bloom now. I'll take Master to listen to the sounds of flowers blooming and falling."

Upon hearing this, Xie Jinlian's lips curled up slightly.

"I have heard you."

He spoke softly, his voice so low it was almost a soliloquy, like a sigh as snow falls:

"The sound of flowers blooming."

Her voice touched his heart and blossomed into a flower.

The icy wind chimes under the eaves swayed gently, making a clear, melodious sound.

Tang Xixue pushed the white jade wheelchair through the winding corridor and arrived at the plum blossom grove.

Snow covered the paths and the branches.

Only two colors remained in the world—

The white is snow, mist, and the frost that has settled on his hair;

The red is the plum blossom, the sunlight, and the dazzling brilliance of her flowing skirt.

The plum blossoms are in full bloom.

The red plum blossoms, like fire, adorn the branches in a lively and festive manner, like flames burning in the snow.

The white plum blossoms, resembling snow, bloom in a cool and refreshing manner, making it difficult to distinguish between flowers and snow.

The two colors intertwine, layer upon layer, merging into a gentle hazy glow.

A breeze was blowing.

Petals fluttered down, landing in this small world, on the white veil covering him, and on the armrests of his white jade wheelchair.

"Little Lotus, listen."

Tangxi Xue reached out and caught a falling red plum blossom.

The petal lay in her palm, as thin as a cicada's wing, its veins as clear as destiny.

"The plum blossoms are in the midst of a snowfall."

Xie Jinlian sat in her wheelchair, her face slightly tilted back.

A few strands of her snow-white hair were lifted by the wind, shimmering softly in the sunlight.

Her eyes were covered by a white veil, obscuring her expression, but the slightly pursed corners of her lips betrayed a hint of unconcealed disappointment.

"Weaving."

He spoke, his voice low:

"I really want to pick the most beautiful flower for you to take home..."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly:

"Could you help your teacher choose one?"

"I'll fold it myself for you."

Now, it seems he can't do anything.

He could not wield a sword for her, could not run errands for her, could not cook for her, could not do anything he wanted to do for her.

He can only sit here.

They couldn't even pick out a flower for her.

The sense of loss hadn't even had a chance to spread.

Suddenly, a warm sensation came from my lips.

The snow and sunlight, like a beam of light cascading down from the sky, enveloped them.

She had unknowingly fallen into his arms.

The red dress spread out like mist, draped over his knees, like a blooming flower.

She sat on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his thin lips.

The kiss was very light.

It was as light as a plum blossom falling in the wind.

As light as the first snow kissing a flower branch.

Xie Jinlian froze for a moment.

It was just a fleeting moment.

next moment.

He raised his hand.

It gently covered her lower back.

The hand slowly moved up her spine, through her loose, dark hair, and finally gently touched the back of her neck.

His palms were burning hot, and he pulled her closer.

Very close.

They were so close that their breaths mingled together.

Her eyelashes fluttered gently on his eyelids, one flutter after another, like butterflies landing among flowers, or like someone gently brushing his heart with a feather.

He sensed it.

She gave a soft laugh on his lips.

The laughter was very soft.

He heard her breathing become erratic.

The chaos began the moment she pressed herself against him.

then.

He tilted his head slightly and deepened the kiss.

It is no longer simply a matter of receiving.

Instead, it's a response.

It is demanding.

It's like pouring all the deep feelings that have been hidden for so long into this one kiss.

Her lips were very soft.

Soft as flower petals, soft as clouds.

Her scent was sweet.

It was as sweet as honey, as sweet as wine, so sweet that he wanted more.

His fingers gently slipped through her hair, his fingertips brushing against her skin, sending a tingling, trembling sensation through her.

"Um--"

She trembled slightly in his arms.

The tremor was so slight that it was almost imperceptible.

But he sensed it.

The hand gripping the back of her neck tightened even more.

"Zhizhi...my Zhizhi..."

He held her lips in his mouth and mumbled her name.

The sound came from deep in his throat, hoarse and barely audible.

His low breath landed in her ear, making her heart tremble.

My heartbeat suddenly became thick and rapid.

It was no longer the steady beating of usual days, but a breathtaking rhythm unlike anything we'd ever experienced before.

Every pulse pulls at sweet threads, every beat is like a hammer blow coated in honey.

A throbbing sensation climbed up my spine.

It explodes into a sweet, tingling, and trembling sensation.

She gently bit his lower lip.

"Ugh—"

He groaned, but didn't flinch.

I don't know how much time passed.

She finally stepped back a few feet.

Both of them were panting.

The breathing was soft and delicate, like a spring breeze rustling through bamboo leaves, or like fine rain falling on the water's surface.

She suddenly smiled.

The laughter was low and soft, spreading across his lips.

"Master."

She called to him.

"Um?"

His voice was still hoarse.

"Your heart is beating so fast."

He was slightly startled.

Then he smiled.

The smile was faint, as faint as moonlight piercing through a thin mist.

"It's knitting, and it's quick."

A thin blush crept onto Tang Xixue's cheeks.

Those shimmering, watery eyes were filled with sparkling smiles, as if they held the entire Milky Way.

"Master."

"Look—didn't Zhizhi choose the prettiest flower here?"

Xie Jinlian pressed her forehead against hers.

"Weaving."

He spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, his words like silk threads entwining the heart.

Every word was magnetic, falling into the ears and soothing the heart.

"Um?"

She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.

He didn't speak.

He simply raised his other hand and gently stroked her cheek.

My fingertips slowly traced her contours, outlining her eyebrows, the tip of her nose, and her lips.

The movement was extremely light and slow.

It's like they're confirming something.

It's like they're trying to remember something.

It's as if I'm engraving her into my heart with my fingertips.

"Your teacher..."

His voice held a hidden fire, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"It has been your flower for a very, very long time."

The breath was scorching, the sound as light as velvet.

But the weight of those words was so heavy that they weighed down the entire Kunlun Mountains.

Tang Xixue looked at him.

"That--"

She leaned closer to him, their noses touching, their breaths mingling:

"Let Zhizhi take this flower home, okay?"

"it is good."

He said softly.

Her voice was sweet and astringent, yet incredibly moving.

But that one word seemed to promise a lifetime.

"Please, Zhizhi... take your teacher home."

The plum grove was silent, and the snow fell without a sound.

In the distance, icicles on the eaves rustled softly in the wind.

"bite--"

That was the last note of winter.

It is also the first sign of spring.