The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

From the stone path strewn with fallen petals in spring to the willow bank filled with the chirping of cicadas in summer.

From the long streets adorned with golden ginkgo leaves in autumn to the secluded palaces with their pure white snow and elegant plum blossoms in winter.

Yan Ci held her hand as they walked through the changing seasons and the passing years.

In the past, I studied military strategy word by word, and could write thousands of words with my pen.

Later, with a heart full of wisdom, every step he took was a battle.

He held a folding fan in his hand, listening to the thousands of troops passing by his tent, the bugle calls rising and falling, and the winds of change whistling past his ears.

Only occasionally, in some unexpected moment, would he still think of that crabapple tree.

However, he never came any closer.

On the eve of his departure from the Eastern Palace to become a military advisor in the army camp, the young man knelt deep within the ancestral hall, listening to the spring thunder rumbling across the eaves.

The torrential rain pelted his knees, which had gone numb from kneeling.

Rainwater seeped in through the cracks in the door, soaking his robes and chilling him to the bone, but he was completely unaware.

"Yan Ce, you have truly disappointed your father."

The voice of my father, Yan Xun, came from behind me, as heavy as the dark clouds pressing down on the horizon.

"Our Yan family has come this far with the blood of three generations and the bones of five generations. From your great-grandfather's generation onwards, every step the Yan family has taken has been fraught with peril."

"If you take the right path, you are a loyal minister; if you take the wrong path, you are a traitor."

"I understand."

"You don't understand."

Yan Xun took a step forward, the candlelight casting interplay of light and shadow on his face.

"If you understood, you wouldn't kneel here again and again."

"Where did you put all your intelligence to? Did you use it to deceive your father? Or to fool yourself?"

"I didn't lie to myself." Yan Ci lowered his head.

"Then tell your father..."

Yan Xun's tone was like a blade slicing through silk.

"When you knelt here, were you thinking of ancestral precepts or her?"

Yan Ci did not reply.

It's not that I don't want to answer, it's that I'm afraid to answer.

Because the answer is just one word.

That word burned on the tip of my tongue.

It's not an ancestral precept.

is her.

"Yan Ce, do you think your father doesn't know what you're thinking? Do you think your father can't see who you're going to the Eastern Palace for every time?"

"But have you considered the Yan family's situation? We can't afford to lose."

"Yan Ce, what are your plans for the future?"

Yan Xun did not use the ruler, but simply stood in front of him, his voice as calm as if he were talking about something that had already been destined.

"She will have the best person in the world by her side, someone to shelter her from the wind and rain."

"Anyway, it's not you. Look at your own status, how could you possibly be worthy of her?"

Yan Ci's back stiffened for a moment.

It was like a candle flame flickering in the wind, but the father saw it.

"You have nothing! No power, no influence, no achievements! What do you have?"

That's enough.

Yan Ci's voice was very low.

"not enough."

Yan Xun's voice suddenly deepened, sinking into the long rainy night.

"Yan Ce, I don't want you to be upset. I want you to think clearly about your path."

"Should we settle down as soon as possible and uproot those things that shouldn't exist, or should we continue kneeling here and end up losing everything?"

The ruler finally fell.

It wasn't heavy, but it felt like it had landed on my heart.

The muffled thud echoed for a long time in the empty ancestral hall.

"A short, sharp pain is worse than a long, drawn-out one. The choice is yours."

Yan Ci knelt there for a very long time.

Candle tears piled up into a small mountain, and the sound of rain changed from torrential to drizzling.

The blue bricks beneath his knees were warmed by his body heat.

He finally spoke, his voice very soft.

"The son has no choice."

Those few words seemed to have been written with all their might.

Yan Xun remained silent for a moment.

"Then kneel down."

"Kneel until you've thought it through."

"In this world, some things are not a matter of whether you want them or not, but whether you should or shouldn't."

"What you should do is stay away from her."

"The Yan family's ancestral motto is: 'In your position, fulfill your responsibilities.' Your position determines how far you can go."

"You're standing too close. You won't be able to see your own path."

"You can withstand the wrath of the emperor, but the Yan family cannot."

The footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

The door to the ancestral hall closed with a dull thud.

Then, all that was left was the sound of rain.

Yan Ci knelt alone in the ancestral hall, with the ancestral tablets in front of him and the closed door behind him.

The candlelight flickered on his face, as if someone were asking him the same question.

I asked it again and again.

He made the choice.

A long, long time ago, she asked him, "Brother A-Ce, will you always stay with me?"

He had already made his choice by then.

But I can't say the answer.

I can never tell you this in my entire life.

She is a pearl in the clouds, the most precious youth in the emperor's palm, and the brightest star in the sky.

He was merely a pawn on the chessboard, powerless to control his own destiny.

He couldn't leave that small space, nor could he get to her side.

Getting too close is a transgression.

Going too far is to let others down.

Between advancing and retreating, there are only cliffs.

The tide of memories slowly receded, and before him lay the snow-covered palace road, his palm still holding her hand.

Yan Ci dared not hold on too tightly, for fear that the longing that was about to burst forth would be revealed.

She dared not hold on too loosely, for fear that the ice and snow would take advantage of her in the slightest.

He held her hand, his steps steady, measuring the insurmountable distance step by step.

"A-Ce, wait a minute."

Tang Xixue suddenly spoke, her voice soft and clear, like a petal falling into a still lake.

"Um?"

Yan Ci responded but did not turn around. He was afraid that if he turned around, he would no longer be able to hide it.

"Slow down, I can't keep up."

Her tone carried a hint of gentle reproach.

Just like when they were little, every time he walked too fast, she would jog after him, her skirt billowing in the wind, her hair ribbon coming undone, but she wouldn't stop.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it was my oversight."

He then realized that he had been walking faster than usual without realizing it.

His steps were hurried; it was unclear whether he was rushing or fleeing.

He quickly slowed his pace and turned slightly to the side so that she could follow more easily.

"Your Highness, how about this?"

"Yes, that's perfect."

Tang Xixue smiled and ran her fingers across his palm.

Yan Ci's heart skipped a beat.

He didn't turn around, but quietly tightened his grip on her hand a little more.

"Aren't my hands a little too cold?"

"Won't."

Tang Xixue recalled the warmth of the boy's palm, and only tenderness remained in her heart.

"That's good."

Yan Ci said softly.

At the end of the palace road, the eaves of the Qianqiu Hall are already faintly visible.

The wind blew from that direction, carrying the sandalwood incense that burned year-round in the Empress Dowager's palace, as warm and comforting as a mother's embrace.

"How come I never noticed before that this road is so short..."

He suddenly wished the road could be longer.

It was long enough for him to finish all the things that had weighed on his mind over the past ten years.

He grew up until he finally had the courage to turn around and look at her.

Until—he was willing to let go.

But every road eventually comes to an end.

As the gates of Qianqiu Hall drew closer, the vermilion pillars gleamed with a warm luster in the morning light.

He stopped at the door and released her hand.

"Your Highness, we've arrived."

The warmth of her hand still lingered in Yan Ci's palm, and the touch of her hand on his fingertips remained.

He slowly pulled his hand back into his sleeve, hiding the warmth inside.

"A-Ce's hands are still as warm as before."

After Tang Xixue finished speaking, she turned and walked into the hall.

Her steps were light and quick, and the pink skirt was blown high by the wind, like peach blossoms scattered all over the sky.

Her laughter drifted on the wind, clear and melodious like a silver bell, just like when she would look at him triumphantly after winning a game of chess with him when they were children.

Yan Ci stood there, watching her figure disappear into the palace gate, and slowly clenched the hand hidden in his sleeve.

"No. The warm hand was never my hand..."

His hands were clearly cold, a coldness born from years of enduring the darkness alone.

She warmed his heart.

Always.