The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

The hot spring pool at Rakukawa-in is filled with steam and a warm, misty atmosphere.

Silver bell petals float on the water, as thin as cicada wings, with slightly curled edges, their translucent white tinged with a faint silver.

A delicate fragrance, subtle and lingering, seeps into the moisture and wafts through the air.

The snow in Tangxi is immersed in the pool, and the black hair is scattered on the water's surface, floating and sinking like seaweed.

Water droplets slid down the collarbone and disappeared into the depths of the mist.

"The hot springs in Forgot Snow City are truly exceptional."

She sighed contentedly, leaned lazily against the pool wall, and closed her eyes to rest.

She brought the snow-covered silver dragon on her wrist into the pool.

It was currently drooping listlessly in her palm.

The scales, which were originally silvery-white and translucent, were now tinged with a peach-blossom-like crimson, burning from the tip of the tail all the way to the dragon's horns.

The colors deepened layer by layer, like clouds soaked in the sunset.

He curled up into a ball, burying his head in his tail, leaving only his wet eyes peeking out as he looked at her pitifully.

She's practically mastered the dragon.

Dragons can transform into human form, and he forgot to run away when he wasn't careful, so he was caught and put into the bath.

To be precise, he should have run away when she started undressing.

But at that moment, he was resting his arms on her wrist and felt her fingertips accidentally brush against his scales. In that instant, the entire dragon froze.

And then... no more.

By the time he came to his senses, he was already in the water.

The warm pool water enveloped his scales, and she cradled him in her palm, her thumb gently rubbing his dragon horns.

That feel.

The dragon's horns are still hot.

Tang Xixue glanced down at him, and couldn't help but smile.

"What's wrong? Your skin got so red after just one bath?"

The little silver dragon didn't speak, but tightened its tail even more, making its scales even redder, like a roasted berry.

He buried his head even deeper, wishing he could shrink into a speck of dust and evaporate from her palm.

Tang Xixue chuckled, the sound spreading through the mist, soft and gentle, like a small hook that made his heart tremble.

"Okay, I'm not teasing you anymore."

She gently placed him on the white jade platform by the pool.

"Let me air dry it myself, huh?"

As soon as the little silver dragon left her palm, it bounced up as if its tail had been burned.

It quickly climbed to the corner of the white jade platform and curled itself into a small, silvery-white dumpling.

Tang Xixue watched as the crimson color gradually spread across the silvery-white surface, then leaned back against the pool wall and closed her eyes.

In the misty haze, tiny water droplets clung to her eyelashes, sparkling like broken diamonds.

On the white jade platform, the little silver dragon quietly turned its head and secretly glanced at her through the mist.

Then it quickly turned back.

The dragon's horns turned even redder.

He felt he might need a bucket of cold water poured on him.

No, pouring ice water on it will also work.

Oh, I forgot, he himself is the Snow Dragon.

He quietly transformed into a streak of silver light and, taking advantage of Tang Xixue's inattention, flew back to the clouds.

It's much cooler up here.

"Tsk, the little one's really easily teased, he ran off already?"

When Tang Xixue finally stood up, water droplets slid down her slender white legs, leaving faint marks on the clean ground.

Tang Xixue picked up the folded clothes from the side.

The blue and white striped nightgown belongs to Pei Yanchuan.

"Ah Liang and the others' carriage shouldn't arrive until tomorrow, so we'll have to wear Ah Lin's clothes for now."

The fabric was soft and carried a faint scent of ink, just like him—clean, pure, and untouched by worldly dust.

The collar is embroidered with a tiny white magnolia pattern, the stitches are fine and delicate.

"Ah Lin's clothes are so big."

She put on her nightgown, the sleeves of which were long enough to barely cover her fingertips.

The fabric clung to her skin, carrying his unique, cool, scholarly scent, as if she were enveloped by him.

She glanced down, not caring at all, casually rolled up her sleeves to reveal a section of her fair wrist, and then stepped out of the bath.

Tang Xixue walked to the window and pushed it open halfway.

The moonlight outside the window was perfect, its silvery glow bathing the courtyard filled with blooming silver bell flowers.

The night breeze, carrying the scent of flowers, blew in and ruffled her slightly damp hair.

Her figure appeared and disappeared amidst the fluttering of her clothes.

Tang Xixue sat down on the edge of the couch, leaned against the soft pillows, and leisurely opened the medical book she always carried with her.

It's the book written by Si Xingxuan, which has been read many times.

The edges of the pages were slightly curled, and there were faint medicine stains in some places, but every page was as smooth as new, showing how much its owner cherished it.

She had already memorized the contents, word for word.

But she just loves watching it.

Zheyue's calligraphy is beautiful, elegant and neat, with each stroke exuding the fragrance of a secluded orchid in a valley.

Every stroke is just right; any more would be too bold, any less would be too faint.

Her fingertips gently traced the words, her eyes filled with tenderness.

That gentleness, it's unclear whether it's for the sake of the word or for the person.

"Your Highness."

A clear, melodious voice sounded from beside the couch, carrying a question.

Tang Xixue raised her eyes.

Pei Yanchuan stood by the couch, clearly having already bathed and washed.

His dark hair was half-dry, draped over his shoulders, with a few stray strands falling across his forehead, making his face appear even whiter and more handsome.

He wore a moon-white undergarment, with the collar neatly gathered at the top, completely covering his neck.

Clean and tidy, upright and proper.

Like a white magnolia that has just been washed by spring rain.

"Tomorrow, Yinglin will prepare other clothes for Your Highness. Tonight was too rushed."

His gaze fell on her, or more precisely, on the nightgown she was wearing.

She carried his scent, the ink fragrance mixed with her own natural sweetness, creating a dizzying aroma for him.

That's his scent.

On her.

This thought was like a spark that landed on the withered grass in his heart and burst into flames.

Then the tips of his ears slowly turned red.

He lowered his eyes, not daring to look at her anymore, his eyelashes trembling slightly, like two startled butterflies.

"Come on up."

Tang Xixue withdrew her gaze, her tone as casual as if she were calling a kitten.

She didn't even look up at him; her gaze remained fixed on the medical book, her fingertips still turning the pages.

Pei Yanchuan responded softly, "Mm."

The sound was as soft as a feather falling to the ground.

He took a deep breath, his fingertips trembling slightly.

He carefully lifted a corner of the brocade quilt.

The movements were slow, as if they were uncovering some incredible treasure, afraid of wrinkling the quilt.

"Ying Lin will now... serve His Highness in bed."

Then, he lay down.

Lying flat and proper.

His hands were folded in front of his abdomen, his back was straight, and even his feet were neatly joined together.

He lowered his eyes, his eyelashes trembling slightly, and he deliberately kept his breathing light and slow, but the rapid beating of his heart could not be hidden.

"Knock knock knock knock".

It felt like someone was beating a drum inside my chest.

He thought that serving the emperor in bed meant... lying down.

But now he's lying down.

Her scent was right beside me, faint and sweet, like the first breeze of the morning.

He only needed to turn his head slightly to see her profile.

She was looking down at a book, her eyelashes casting a fan-shaped shadow under her eyes. Her nose was straight and delicate, and her lips were slightly pursed, making her look serious and focused.

She seemed completely indifferent to him.

This realization gave him a strange sense of loss.

He thought...she would look at him.

Even just a glance.

Tang Xixue waited for a moment.

No further action was taken.

She waited and waited.

still none.

Tang Xixue turned her head to look at the boy beside her, who was almost turning from a white flower into a pink one, and couldn't help but raise her eyebrows.

"Huh? That's it?"

Her voice was amused, and also a little soft.

Pei Yanchuan's body stiffened slightly.

"You swore you'd serve me in bed, and this is how you do it?"

Tang Xixue put down her medical book, turned around, propped her chin on one hand, and looked down at him.

She reached out her finger and gently poked his stiff arm.

It was hard and stiff, like a piece of wood.

"He was dressed more neatly than if he were attending court, and lay more upright than a corpse in a coffin."

"Ah Lin, are you here to serve me in bed, or to prepare me for burial?"