The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Baiyujing.

The night was deep and dark, the ink-like darkness seeping into the nine-layered palace.

The plum trees in front of the Hall of Longevity are still in bloom, covered in snow, rustling in the night wind.

The petals, as white as feathers, trembled gently in the moonlight, like someone's sigh frozen into frost.

The Northern Star Empire is not as warm as the Sea Kingdom.

Even in spring, it remains cold here; the chill seeps from the ground and seeps into one's bones.

That tree was Tangxi Xue's favorite to look at.

When the flowers bloom, she stands under the tree, looking up at them, her eyes crinkling with joy.

As the flowers fell, she reached out and caught the drifting petals, smiling broadly.

Those were the most beautiful scenes in Tangxi Ye's eyes.

The flowers are still blooming.

But its owner never returned.

Emperor Shengchen Tangxi handled state affairs during the day, reviewed memorials, and summoned his ministers, all as usual.

He sat upright on the dragon throne, his expression calm and his words resolute, as if nothing had happened.

But once night fell, he would not return to Chengtian Palace.

I stood alone under this plum tree.

The moonlight fell on him, making him appear cold and lonely.

His shadow was stretched very long, like a sword that had been drawn but didn't know where to strike.

The atmosphere in the palace was as heavy as ice.

Everyone knows that His Majesty is now like a sword that could shatter at any moment.

It could drag everyone down with it at any moment.

It appeared calm, but in reality, it was under extreme tension.

That string was so tight, so tight that it was unthinkable what kind of cataclysmic upheaval would occur if it snapped.

No one dared to speak much in front of him, and they even kept their breathing extremely shallow.

Shen Cuo stood not far away, gazing at that tall, slender figure.

It felt like a huge rock was pressing on his chest, so heavy that he couldn't breathe.

He hasn't had a proper rest in a long time.

They led their men to search house by house, turning over every inch of Baiyujing's land, and questioning everyone who might know the truth.

Sleepless nights and tireless days, yet still unable to find that person.

His eyes were bloodshot, stubble had appeared, and he looked extremely haggard.

But he still stood there, guarding that figure.

"His Majesty."

He stepped forward, his voice hoarse as if it had been ground by sand and gravel.

"Don't worry, Sang Tingke is currently missing. Our men have laid a tight net, and we will capture him as soon as he dares to show his face."

His own heart felt empty.

From the moment he learned that Princess Mirror was the goddess who saved him when he was young, he was always willing to go to great lengths for her.

A small joy also filled his heart—it turned out that all these years, he had been protecting his god.

But now, he can no longer see those eyes that shine like stars.

Doesn't he feel heartbroken? He is heartbroken beyond words!

How can one not feel pain at the helplessness and despair of a fallen god?

But he cannot fall.

His Majesty still needs him.

Tangxi did not look back at night.

His voice came from the night, majestic and cold, carrying a chilling aura.

"Shen Yan is one of the last two orphans of the Sang family."

He paused.

"Let's use her to lure out Sang Tingke."

Shen Cuo's heart skipped a beat.

Shen Yan...

That is his sister.

Although we are not related by blood, she is a good person.

She had helped him when he was in dire straits in the Shen family.

He remembered those days, and he remembered how good she was to him.

But he didn't know who brought him the storm.

"If Sang Tingke could just stand by and watch Shen Yan die—"

Tang Xiye's voice remained calm, but beneath that calm, a hint of madness was clearly surging.

"Then let her die."

"My beloved Zhizhi is gone, how can Sang Tingke's family live on?"

Shen Cuo clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

The knuckles are turning white.

Everything returned to normal.

"Where is Yan Ce? Let him handle this. Wu Jiu, you're too soft-hearted; you'll ruin things."

Tang Xiye's words carried a warning, as well as an inexplicable sense of helplessness.

He knew Shen Cuo was soft-hearted.

He also knew that his soft heart was the tenderness that Zhizhi left for him.

"Your Majesty, Military Advisor Yan is in the northern frontier. He has discovered the headquarters of the Heavenly Punishment Hall there and is leading his troops to wipe it out."

Shen Cuo's voice was a little hoarse.

He knew that the emperor's command was difficult to disobey.

As His Majesty said, he is too soft-hearted.

He was not even as good as his elder brother Shen Xian—the one who valued rules the most. He was also more indifferent than him, so he could act according to the rules in everything and not be swayed by personal feelings.

Shen Cuo lowered his eyes and stopped speaking.

They simply stood quietly by.

"The Northern Frontier? Zhizhi used to really like that boy from the Feng family."

Tangxi Ye's voice was faint, as if it drifted from a very far place.

"Now that she's gone, that kid should be with her."

Shen Cuo stood about ten feet behind him, and felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing this.

Cold sweat poured down his face.

How come the young general of the Feng family was a thorn in His Majesty's side when Princess Jing was alive, and His Majesty wished he could be put to death? Now that Princess Jing is gone, His Majesty is thinking of having him buried alive with him?

So, he's definitely going to die?

Shen Cuo's Adam's apple bobbed; he was, after all, a soft-hearted person.

He forced himself to speak.

"Your Majesty, according to the report of Marquis Feng, General Feng was stabbed in the heart by a traitor years ago, leaving him with a chronic injury that makes him unable to withstand any stimulation... He already didn't have much time left."

Tangxi remained silent for a long time.

Moonlight fell on the hem of his dark robe, coating it with a thin layer of frost.

The frost was very cold.

But his heart was even colder.

"Fine. Let's see what fate has in store for him."

He paused, his voice growing even softer.

"With me by Zhizhi's side, that's enough."

He recalled Feng Zhuo's serious injury years ago.

He publicly claimed that a traitor had stabbed him in the heart, nearly killing him.

The truth is that it was done by the transmigrated woman who possessed Tang Xixue's body.

Feng Zhuo never made a sound.

But the emperor knows everything.

Northern Xinjiang.

The north wind was biting, and heavy snow blocked the mountain pass.

Between heaven and earth, only a vast expanse of white remained.

The white expanse stretched endlessly, as if it were about to swallow everything in the world.

A campfire was burning in the military camp.

The firelight illuminated the young faces, its warmth dispelling the harsh cold of the north.

Feng Zhuo rode his horse back.

Her red clothes fluttered in the wind, still covered with unmelted snow.

He dismounted with the agility of a hawk and strode toward the campfire.

The smile in his eyes was brighter than the firelight.

"Young General Feng, you've slain quite a few cultists today! Your skills are truly divine!"

"Young Master Feng, why are you working so hard?"

"Indeed, you are the young master of the Marquis of Zhenbei's mansion. The Marquis's mansion has guarded the northern frontier for generations and has a distinguished military record."

"Even without any military achievements, you'd still enjoy a life of luxury. Why fight alongside us on the front lines?"

A group of soldiers sat around a campfire, chatting and laughing, their laughter causing snowflakes to fall in a soft rustling sound.

Feng Zhuo lifted the hem of his clothes and sat down in the crowd.

Crimson robes and jade belts, stunningly beautiful.

"What do you know?"

He curved his lips into a smile, a smile that carried the arrogance and pride unique to young people.

"I have a family to support, so naturally I need to earn more military merits."

To support my family?

The group looked at each other, about to make a joke.

Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out.

"Young general, you're injured. Let me bandage you."

Female military doctor Liu Ruxu, carrying her medicine kit, gracefully walked to Feng Zhuo's side.

She made a move to sit down.

In a military camp, women are naturally more conspicuous.

As she approached, everything fell silent.

Feng Zhuo jumped up as if he had been bitten by a snake.

They moved so fast they almost knocked over the campfire behind them.

"Don't touch me! I'm taken!"

He took three steps back, creating a clear distance between himself and Liu Ruxu.

"Liu Fengchun! Mind your own business!"

"Hahaha--"

Everyone burst into laughter.

The laughter was deafening, even shaking some of the snow off the tents, which fell softly into the fire, scattering tiny sparks.

"When did General Feng get taken?"

"Our young general is actually afraid of his wife! This is an extremely rare occurrence!"

"Whose young lady is she? To be so cherished by our young general, she must be a celestial being descended to earth!"

Feng Zhuo blushed with embarrassment at their laughter.

But he still held his head high, looking proud.

"Hmph, the name of my beloved is not something you can inquire about."

He raised his hand and unfastened the Crimson Flame Sword from his waist.

Raise the sword tassel high.

The firelight reflected on the sword tassel, creating a dazzling and beautiful sight.

The gilded roses and the openwork ice and snow patterns shimmered with a warm glow under the firelight.

That was a gift from her.

She tied it on herself.

"See this? My partner gave it to me."

"Yo yo yo—"

The crowd drew out their tunes, and the shouts grew louder and louder.

"Then we have good news in our northern border military camp too!"

"Congratulations, young general!"

"Our widowed king has finally found a master."

Feng Zhuo's lips curled into a high smile.

That smile was as bright as a raging fire, so intense it could melt away the snow and wind that filled the camp.

"Ruxu, come back. Don't tarnish General Feng's reputation."

Military doctor Liu Fengchun spoke in a deep voice.

"I... I did nothing to tarnish his reputation."

Liu Ruxu looked embarrassed and reluctantly retreated.

Why did she come to the northern frontier with her brother?

Isn't it all because of this young general?

But he's actually engaged?

How come she's never heard of it?

"I don't know why there's been such a crackdown on cults everywhere lately."

Someone changed the subject.

"Those cults are truly a malignant tumor, deserving of death!"

"You wouldn't know this, would you?"

Liu Ruxu suddenly spoke.

His voice carried a hint of smugness.

"I heard that Princess Mirror was assassinated by a cult. That's why His Majesty went mad and sent troops to fight the cult to the death..."

Her father was Liu Yuanzheng, and her family had been imperial physicians for generations.

This time, I followed my elder brother and accompanied Military Advisor Yan to the northern frontier.

The Prince of Beichen was seriously injured and was being treated by her brother, Liu Fengchun, in the main tent of the Northern Frontier Army.

While she was assisting, she overheard the conversation between Military Advisor Yan and Prince Beichen.

At that moment, wanting to show off her good connections to Feng Zhuo, she revealed this shocking secret without thinking.

Feng Zhuo, who was laughing and joking with his comrades, heard this.

The smile on his face froze instantly.

The smile faded from the corners of his lips, like the tide receding to reveal a desolate beach.

First, the corners of the lips.

Then there are the eyebrows and eyes.

Finally, the entire face was gone.

"Ruxu! Who gave you permission to talk nonsense!"

Liu Fengchun's expression changed drastically, and he rebuked her sternly.

"Brother, I'm not lying!"

Liu Ruxu retorted defiantly.

The sound of wind scorching rang out.

Trying my best to remain calm.

It was as calm as a stagnant pool.

But the hand holding the Crimson Flame Sword was trembling slightly.

The knuckles are turning white.

Veins bulging.

"Dr. Liu, how did you know about this? We hadn't heard anything about it."

"It was Military Advisor Yan who said it himself, how could it be false?"

Liu Ruxu immediately boasted.

Completely unaware that the atmosphere around them had changed.

"My brother heard it too. It's not a big secret; I've heard that all the major powers know about it."

She then added another sentence.

"It was General Feng who went outside the city himself. The heavenly fire that night burned Princess Jing to ashes; I heard even her ashes couldn't be found..."

The words fell.

Feng Zhuo's face instantly turned as white as the snow in northern Xinjiang.

There wasn't a trace of blood in it.

Something in those usually bright eyes began to shatter, bit by bit.

First came the light.

Then there's the shadow.

In the end, only emptiness remained.

The old wound in my heart felt as if it had been ripped apart by an invisible hand.

pain.

It hurts so much.

The pain was so intense that he could barely breathe.

The pain made his vision go black.

He was in so much pain that he was trembling all over.

He remembered the sword tassel.

He recalled the warmth of Tang Xixue's fingertips brushing against his skin when she tied it on herself.

He recalled the way she looked up at him, smiling as she called him "Ranzhi".

I remember her standing under that camellia tree, holding a little white cat, snowflakes falling on her shoulders – a peaceful and serene scene.

She said, "As long as there's fire, I'm not afraid."

She said, "See you next time."

He was still hoping that the next time they met, he could ask her to take him home.

He was constantly worried that his dowry was too meager.

I've been working hard to prepare...

But he waited for so long.

I've been thinking about it for so long.

I've been waiting for so long.

What they got in return was that even the ashes could not be found.

He turned around.

He didn't say a word.

He didn't look back at anyone.

He ran wildly toward the camp where Yan Ci and Bei Chenji were.

The red figure sped through the wind and snow.

Like moths drawn to a flame.

Like rushing towards the Yellow Springs—a dead end.