The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Shen Cuo stood outside the master bedroom of Jingye Xuelu, caught in a dilemma, as if trapped in a quagmire.

He was the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Guard, and even amidst the dangers of swords and spears, he never furrowed his brow.

But now, facing this carved wooden door, he hesitated again and again, and a sense of fear arose.

"Isn't it inappropriate to disturb you at this time?"

He glanced at the strategist Yan Ci.

"Hurry! It's extremely urgent!"

Yan Ci urged.

"Military Advisor Yan really knows how to order people around... Am I the only unlucky one?"

Shen Cuo took a deep breath. Inside were His Majesty and His Highness. His rash intrusion was probably more dangerous than going to the battlefield.

However, the situation was urgent and could not be delayed, and His Majesty had no other unfortunate fellows to serve him.

"Don't just stand there! Get moving!"

With his silver tongue, Yan Junshi was always good at manipulating people, and with just a few words, he pushed him into the eye of the storm.

"Your Majesty, are you awake?"

Shen Cuo cursed inwardly, but he had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.

He took a deep breath, as if heading to the execution ground, raised his hand, and gently knocked on the door.

"Your Majesty, I have urgent news to report."

The knuckles tapped on the rosewood, producing three low, muffled sounds.

In this quiet, snow-covered hut, it appeared exceptionally clear, and also exceptionally abrupt.

"Shen Wujiu, you'd better really have something to say."

Tang Xiye's voice came from the inner room, deep and resonant, with a slight upward inflection at the end.

With a hint of displeasure at being disturbed from her peaceful sleep.

Inside the room, pink gauze curtains hung low, and the sweet, warm scent of pear blossom incense lingered, filling the room with a soft, dreamlike atmosphere.

"Um?"

The person in his arms was startled by the sound, her eyelashes trembled slightly, like butterfly wings unfolding for the first time, or like tender leaves brushed by the wind, and she was about to wake up.

"fine."

He quickly reached out and gently stroked her hair with his fingertips.

The movements were careful, as if soothing a cat startled by the wind.

His fingertips slid slowly down her cascading black hair, each inch carrying a restrained yet profound affection.

"Zhizhi, go back to sleep."

Tang Xi leaned down and placed a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.

That kiss held a tenderness rarely seen in an emperor, a corner of warmth remaining amidst his ruthless decisiveness.

"I will handle everything; you can rest assured."

He deftly donned his outer robe, casually gathering his dark hair behind him, and strode into the outer room.

He walked with composure, each step exuding an aura of authority without anger.

"Come in, everyone."

The emperor's voice was calm, yet it possessed an unyielding and authoritative air.

As soon as he finished speaking, the maids who were waiting in the corridor filed in, their steps as light as cats, landing silently.

"Your Majesty, would you like me to assist you with your washing and grooming?"

"No need, put your things down."

Tang Xiye waved her hand.

The maids carried silver basins, handkerchiefs, rinsing bowls, and perfumes.

They arranged everything neatly and then silently withdrew, their movements perfectly synchronized, clearly demonstrating their high level of training.

The hot water in the silver basin steamed with white mist, rising gently and painting the room with a hazy, picturesque glow.

The handkerchief was folded neatly and squarely, with no corners or edges left untouched.

Beside it was a dish of freshly picked wintersweet, its golden petals still glistening with morning dew, exuding a delicate and refreshing fragrance that soothed the soul.

"What? Commander Shen, are you trying to summon my soul so early in the morning?"

While washing her face, Tang Xiye glanced at Shen Cuo.

His gaze was cold, like a sliver of icy light shining through a crack in the ice in the depths of winter.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me."

It was just a casual glance, but it sent a chill down Shen Cuo's spine, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over him from head to toe.

He had followed His Majesty for many years and knew his temperament well; the calmer the situation, the more dangerous it was.

"What is it?"

Tang Xiye took a cotton towel and slowly wiped away the water stains on her face, her movements elegant and composed.

"Your Majesty, you'll see if you just look outside."

Shen Cuo's expression was solemn, as if a mountain was pressing down on his brow.

Tang Xiye put down the cotton towel, gathered her slender fingers around her clothes, and looked out the window.

In that instant, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Outside the window, the world should have been covered in snow, a pristine and picturesque scene.

But at this moment, what came into view was a shocking crimson.

That red is not the crimson of the morning glow.

The crimson sunset, though vibrant, carried the warmth and hope of the morning light.

It wasn't the blood of the setting sun either.

Although the setting sun was intense, it was tinged with the desolation and twilight of dusk.

It was a deep, somber color, as if it were seeping from the depths of the earth.

It spread everywhere, soaking the entire world.

Distant mountains, nearby trees, eaves, stone steps—everywhere the eye could see was shrouded in this eerie crimson.

"The red snow that started falling last night."

"At first, I thought it was the sudden appearance of the blood moon in the sky that made the snow appear red, so I didn't pay much attention to it."

"But when dawn broke, it was a thousand miles of red snow, covering the mountains and plains, with no place spared."

Shen Cuo replied quickly, speaking a few minutes faster than usual.

"Wu Jiu, what is the extent of the red snow cover? Are there any adverse effects?"

A soft, clear voice came from inside the room.

Tang Xixue had gotten up at some point, wearing a light pink nightgown.

The fabric is as light and thin as smoke, embroidered with sparse begonia patterns, the stitches are fine and lifelike.

Her jet-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, uncombed and loosely draped over her shoulders.

It made her small face appear even whiter and more like jade, like a handful of fresh snow falling under the moon, exuding a cool and languid charm.

"Greetings, Your Highness!"

Shen Cuo quickly bowed in greeting.

"No need for formalities, please rise."

Tang Xixue was in excellent spirits, with a satisfied and languid look in her eyes.

Like a crabapple blossom thoroughly exposed by the spring breeze, its petals still glistening with dew, yet the branches are already in full bloom.

Her skin was pink and delicate, and her beauty was beyond compare.

"Good morning, Brother Xuan Yin."

Although we didn't make love last night, someone still kept me cuddling and whispering in my ear for most of the night.

Those blush-inducing intimacy, those whispers in the ear, the burning passion ignited where fingertips lingered.

The residue still lingers on the skin, like rouge spreading, light and subtle.

"Zhizhi, you're up already? Aren't you going to rest a little longer?"

Tang Xiye's voice softened instantly.

"Yes, I've had enough sleep."

Tang Xixue quickly washed up, took the teacup from Lishuang, and took a small sip.

The tea is a top-quality Yunwu Silver Tea, with a bright apricot-yellow liquor, a mellow and sweet taste, and a faint floral fragrance.

"I'd also like to hear why Wujiu came to inform me so early."

The way she drank her tea was languid and captivating.

Her slender fingers held the tea lid, gently brushing away the floating leaves; every movement exuded a natural, noble elegance.

"Meow~"

Two little white cats immediately jumped onto the tatami mat and nestled on either side of her.

Its furry body curled up into a ball, making satisfied purring sounds.

Her fair, delicate fingers gently stroked the fur a few times, the tips sinking into the soft hide.

The kittens then squinted their eyes even more contentedly, their fluffy tails swishing back and forth on her wrist, rubbing against her palm affectionately.

"I am guilty for disturbing Your Highness's peaceful sleep."

Shen Cuo glanced at it only once before hurriedly lowering his eyes, wishing he could gouge out his eyes, throw them on the ground, and stomp on them.

Her ears started burning uncontrollably, and even her breathing became erratic.

He had followed His Majesty for many years and had seen all sorts of grand occasions, but at this moment he didn't even know where to put his hands and feet.

He stood frozen in place, like a wooden stake.

What kind of impact would it be to see the deity in your heart at dawn?

Shen Cuo could only say that his mind went completely blank, as if he had been hit hard with a sledgehammer, leaving a buzzing sound.

I was so nervous that I was short of breath and even breathing felt difficult.

The composure he usually cultivated amidst the clash of swords and the shadows of battle had all vanished at this moment.

All that was left was a helpless and embarrassed feeling.

"Your Highness, Military Advisor Yan is right outside."

"Let's invite him in. I'm not entirely clear on the details."

Shen Cuo opened his mouth, his voice trembling, and he even stuttered a little.

Before he could finish speaking, he turned and ran as if he had been burned, his movements so fast that they were the fastest in his career.

He rushed to the door, grabbed Yan Ci who was waiting under the eaves, and pushed him inside without saying a word.

The movements were fluid, crisp, and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

It was as if what was thrown out was not a person, but a hot potato.

He possesses an incredible amount of brute strength.

Commander Shen's strength is only weaker than His Majesty's; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to survive by His Majesty's side until now.

Over the years, the guards who have served His Majesty have changed countless times.

Some died, some were injured, and some retreated.

He alone remained unmoved, relying solely on his incredible luck.

"What are you doing?"

Yan Ci wore a white robe with ink patterns, his figure tall and slender like a jade tree in the wind.

At that moment, he was pushed and staggered a few steps, completely dazed.

He barely managed to steady himself, his long sleeves brushing against the door frame, nearly tripping him.

Where was even a trace of the composure and demeanor that the strategist usually possessed?