The moment we began walking down the narrow, flickering corridor behind Bai Qi, my skin crawled.
The golden and red embroidery on her robe… it didn't belong in this kingdom.
No one here wore those colors. Only black, blue, purple, and white. But she wore them like armor. Or a warning.
Yes. That's why I felt strange when I first saw her. It wasn't just the way she looked. It was the way she didn't belong.
Yuzhe noticed my silence.
He leaned slightly closer—his voice low, like a breath against my skin. "Something's wrong?"
I hesitated. "…Did you pack my white jade bracelet?"
His eyes flickered, subtle—but sharp. He understood immediately.
"Yes," he said, his voice steady. "It's with your things."
I exhaled softly, heart loosening.
That bracelet wasn't just jewelry—it was a signal. A secret code only the two of us shared. One we hadn't used in years.
---
Later that evening, in the dim candlelight of our shared room, we sat down for dinner. The air between us was quiet—too quiet. Heavy with thoughts neither of us spoke aloud.
Then he asked, "What was bothering you earlier?"
I set my spoon down, fingers curling around the edge of the table. "Everything."
And I told him. The unnatural gold in Bai Zhou's hair. The robe. The smirk. The way both father and daughter kept glancing at my Great Sipa like they knew something.
He listened without interrupting—but didn't look fully convinced.
"Yuzhe," I said quietly but firmly, meeting his eyes. "Change the Great Sipa into the white jade bracelet. Now."
His jaw tensed, then relaxed. Without a word, he obeyed.
Just like old times.
---
After dinner, he stood, stretched, and walked to the window. "We should sleep early," he said, eyes lost in the night outside. "Tomorrow will be long."
I crossed the room slowly, my voice playful—but my eyes never leaving his. "Dear…" I whispered, standing close enough to feel the heat rising between us. "Are you ready to have a sweet night with me?"
His eyes flicked toward me, caught between surprise and resistance.
Then—he pushed me away. Gently, but firmly.
"Keep your manners," he murmured.
I laughed bitterly, stepping back. "Who do you think you are, pushing me like that? Don't forget… you once died for me."
He didn't answer.
"Yuzhe," I whispered, voice softer now. "You loved me so deeply once… Was it really all a lie?"
Still… silence.
"…So how are we going to sleep, then?" I asked, arms crossed, daring him.
His gaze dropped to the bed. Then to me. Back to the bed again.
I raised an eyebrow. "What? Afraid you'll fall for me again if we share it?"
He exhaled slowly. "I'm meditating tonight. You take the bed."
I blinked. "Meditating? You're seriously choosing the cold hard floor… over this warm blanket… over me?"
"I've slept on worse," he replied, sitting cross-legged near the wall, back straight as a blade, eyes already closing.
I stared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. "You know, most men would kill for this chance."
He didn't even flinch. "Then it's good I'm not most men."
I groaned, flopping onto the bed. "Fine. But if I wake up and find you staring at me all mysterious and tragic, I swear, I'm throwing my pillow at you."
"…Duly noted."
I pulled the blanket up to my chin, glaring at the ceiling. "Cold-hearted warrior monk…"
---
Just as sleep finally began to pull me under—
I heard it.
His voice.
So soft. So quiet I almost thought I imagined it.
"…Sweet dreams, Xiwang."
My eyes snapped open.
I turned toward him slowly.
His eyes were closed. His face still. Calm.
But my chest—my whole body—was suddenly burning.
Because that one line… That single, unexpected whisper… Wasn't the voice of a cold man avoiding me.
It was the voice of a man remembering.
And my heart… My heart kicked like wildfire under snow.
---