The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

"cousin--"

Hua Rongshi leaned closer and glanced at the intelligence report.

The next instant, all the color drained from his face.

That once handsome face, as fair as a peach blossom, was now as pale as paper.

Even her lip color was so pale it was almost transparent, as if it might disappear into the night at any moment.

Like a piece of peach blossom porcelain, it would shatter at the slightest touch.

He held the painting in his arms, looking as if his soul had been ripped out.

The person in the painting is still smiling faintly on the paper.

Her eyebrows were curved, and the corners of her lips were slightly upturned; she was as beautiful as when we first met.

In the Ranxia Studio, amidst countless paintings, she raised her eyes and glanced around, and the world lost its color.

Those eyes were so bright, as if they could illuminate all the darkness in the world.

But those outside the painting could no longer laugh.

Not long ago, she was standing under that snow-covered red camellia tree, its blossoms in full bloom.

Dressed in white, she held a little white cat in her arms, a picture of serene beauty.

How could this be?

How could this be!

His heart felt as if a piece had been ripped out.

It's like someone using a blunt knife to cut it bit by bit, and then sprinkling salt on it afterward.

For him, she was nothing more than a fleeting glimpse of beauty.

When that glance landed on her, he didn't know that for the rest of his life, he would never be able to take it back.

Once the owner of the Peach Blossom Gu has given their heart away, they can never take it back.

He was like a peach blossom that accidentally drifted into a pool of spring water.

I thought I could drift ashore with the wind, but I sank deeper and deeper, willingly drowning in the process.

I drowned without regret.

The likes of teenagers are inherently irrational.

There was no weighing of options, no hesitation, and not even a consideration of whether there would be a result.

I'll spend my whole life longing for her.

I want to see her laugh, to see her play, to see her radiant in the sunlight, to see her red dress fluttering as she walks through the snow.

I want to stay by her side, even if I don't do anything, just quietly watch her.

He wanted to offer her the best of everything in the world; if she would just smile, he felt it would all be worth it.

But now, it's all gone in an instant.

He held the painting tightly to his chest.

The painting still retains the gentleness in her eyes.

But outside the painting, she is never seen again.

"Waaah—my little snowflake—"

Hua Rongshi's eyes instantly reddened.

Those peach blossom eyes were now brimming with tears.

Large tears rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably, streaking across her beautiful face and landing on the back of her hand, burning her heart with pain.

He cried like a child.

They had no regard for their image or any sense of restraint.

The tears fell like beads from a broken string, unstoppable no matter what.

"How could anyone bear to hurt such a beautiful little snowflake..."

He recalled that day at Lintai, the morning sun shining through the thin mist.

It was just an ordinary day.

He sat in the main seat, watching her paint with her brush.

She never looked at him.

But at that moment, he heard his own heartbeat.

It felt like someone was beating a drum in my heart.

Meeting her made that day anything but ordinary.

He remembered the time she rejected him.

She said we weren't familiar with each other.

She said, "Even if you become my concubine, I will not take you."

But he doesn't care.

He thought that one day she would see him.

They haven't had a proper time together yet, and she hasn't gotten to know him properly.

One day she will find out that he was sincere.

When he was in his prime, he was truly not a womanizer.

He only wanted to focus his attention on her.

But now...

There will be no more.

There will be no more.

He gently placed the portrait, which he regarded as a treasure, on the table to the side.

The movements were careful and solemn, as if they were placing a rare treasure.

His fingertips traced the scroll, reluctant to let go for a long time.

"This must be a scam, I don't believe it..."

The next moment, her pink wide sleeves swung violently, rising in a resolute arc in the night wind.

His figure rushed out of the city like a madman.

The speed was astonishing, as fast as rushing to a farewell that was destined to be too late.

Her clothes fluttered, her long hair was disheveled, and she looked like a pink streak of light, tearing through the thick darkness of the night.

The night wind howled past, ruffling his hair and knocking off the silver hairpin in his hair.

"bite--"

The silver hairpin fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

But he didn't turn around.

His direction was always toward the darkness after the firelight had died down—towards the place where she had disappeared.

He doesn't care.

Even if there are mountains of knives and seas of fire ahead, even if going there means never coming back.

He wanted to see it for himself.

Is that true?

Is she really... gone?

Bei Chenji did not cry.

It was even eerily calm.

He didn't shed tears, didn't tremble, and didn't even change his expression.

He simply stood there, like a statue frozen in time for a thousand years, like a sculpture left behind in the wind and snow.

His aura was as cold as a blade tempered with ice, making people afraid to approach or look him in the eye.

But the hand holding the Purple Snow Sword was gripping it extremely tightly.

It was so tight that the knuckles turned white, the veins bulged, and the nails almost dug into the palm.

Only in this way can one control oneself and avoid losing composure.

Only in this way can he still appear to be the cold and ruthless Prince Beichen.

But only he himself knew—his heart was broken.

It shattered into millions of pieces.

Every single piece is dripping blood.

"Ten sounds, thousands of traces, thousands of rivers."

He spoke.

His voice was deep and steady, without any discernible emotion.

But beneath that calm surface, a volcano about to erupt is clearly pressing down.

"Investigate thoroughly."

Two words, as cold as ice.

But hidden within that ice is a raging fire powerful enough to consume everything.

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Three figures moved in response and disappeared into the night. The Nightblade Blade, the most elite weapon of the Battle Hall, had all been deployed.

When the order is issued, the entire land of China is shrouded in darkness, and mountains and rivers tremble.

Its sharp point points to the vast sky, where the wind and clouds change color.

Bei Chenji spurred his horse and galloped out of the city.

The black steed was as dark as ink, just like the man's star-chasing horse.

He dared not openly think of her, so he could only secretly harbor a little selfishness in the most subtle ways.

The horses are the same color, the wind is the same path, and even the direction she is heading is the same road she once traveled.

It seems like this way I can get closer to her.

A fine horse with a silver saddle shatters the flowing light.

The sound of horses' hooves was rapid and thunderous, breaking the silence of the long street.

Someone looked out the window and only caught a glimpse of a crimson figure flashing by, as fast as a streak of light, as fast as if chasing the moonlight.

The night wind was as sharp as a knife, scraping across his cheeks.

But that pain is nothing compared to even a fraction of the pain in my heart.

He wanted to hold onto something.

But he discovered that he had nothing.

The fingers spread open, then close, then close again, then spread open once more.

My palm was empty; there was nothing there.

Even the wind slipped through his fingers.

Feng Zhuo also had a keepsake that she had personally given him.

That gilded rose jade pendant and sword tassel were her blatant favoritism, a memento she left for him.

Even though she's gone, the memory remains, and that's proof that she once cared about him.

But what about him?

He searched his entire body before remembering that he still had a piece of candy in his pocket.

That was given to me a long, long time ago.

An unintentional act.

But he kept it.

Reluctant to eat it, reluctant to throw it away, I carefully kept it close to my body, placing it in the place closest to my heart.

It's like hiding a wisp of sweetness in the shadows.

It cannot be exposed to the light, nor dare it be exposed to the light.

That was the only bit of sweetness in his life.

His life so long...

It turns out that not a single bit of sweetness could be retained.

My mother said that the snow will clear and the night will eventually pass.

But since he was five years old, he had lived in the cold, eternal night.

He waited for dawn after dawn.

Year after year we waited.

The sky never brightened.

The North Star shines through the endless night, with nowhere to return; half a lifetime spent in wind and snow, half a lifetime in clear skies.

How come even the little bit of snow that he had painstakingly held in his palm melted?

Why must even this last bit of sweetness be taken away?

"Xue'er..."

He called out softly.

The sound was very soft, as soft as a sigh, so soft that it was blown away by the night wind as soon as it was uttered.

No one heard it.

Only he knew how much pain he felt when those two words slipped from his lips.

"Tangxi Xuanyin is really useless."

"How come he couldn't even protect you..."

His voice lowered, becoming almost inaudible.

"I'm a cursed star, I can't keep you by my side."

"But isn't he the Emperor Star? Can't he share even a fraction of his glory... shine upon my little Xue'er?"

As soon as he finished speaking, his figure disappeared into the depths of the night.

Only the crimson cloak remained, fluttering in the wind.

Like a silent lament.

Like a heart shattered into a million pieces, it turns to dust little by little in the wind.

Suddenly, his body froze.

The galloping horse was abruptly reined in, its front hooves raised high, letting out a mournful neigh.

Bei Chenji gripped the reins tightly with one hand.

The hidden wounds left from those years of fighting in the dark.

Those old wounds that never healed.

Those pains that he had suppressed with his will for countless days and nights.

At this moment, it felt like being brutally torn apart by an invisible hand.

His face was as pale as paper in the moonlight, fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, and his lips were so pale they were almost transparent.

Something was trembling violently in those purple eyes.

A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his lips.

But he didn't say anything.

Not a sound.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When she opened her eyes again, all that remained in the depths of those purple eyes was a deathly stillness.

He casually took out a black handkerchief and wiped the blood from the corner of his lips.

He gripped the reins tightly again.

Spur your horse forward.

Run towards the darkness where she disappeared.

The crimson cloak fluttered in the night wind, like a battle flag that would never fall.

But behind him, on the long street he had rushed down, drops of blood were falling, leaving mottled stains.

No one saw it.

No one knows.

No one cares.