The young man's heart pounded uncontrollably. He felt as if he had truly lost his mind; why else would he find the rumored cold and heartless Fourth Prince so gentle?
——
Half a year flew by in the blink of an eye. Just as the Winter Solstice arrived, news of victory came from the frontier. The barbarians feigned surrender, launched a surprise attack at midnight, and burned all the grain supplies in the military camp overnight. Those who lost their lives were reduced to charcoal by the flames. For a whole night, the fire raged, and the sent grain was looted by starving refugees.
The frontier was breached, and the barbarians, brandishing their butcher knives, attacked fourteen cities. In this sudden onslaught, the fourteen cities descended into chaos. At such a moment, a figure was needed to awe the frontier.
Yet, it was precisely at this time that the Emperor fell gravely ill. In the past half-year, the Seventh Prince had gradually expanded his power, even managing to put Shen Yue at a disadvantage on several occasions.
This was not a good sign. She had thought the throne was secure after the Crown Prince's demise, but she never expected Shen Yaojin to be so much smarter and more cunning than she had imagined.
Shen Yue had underestimated Shen Yaojin.
If Shen Yue were to go to the frontier now, Shen Yaojin in Chang'an would clearly have a greater advantage. The court was a sea of constant change; once she left, no one could predict what would happen the next second.
However, if she did not go, she would betray her reputation, her people, and cause all her subjects to despair.
The eaves were covered in snow, and the air carried a slight chill. Lush green bamboo stood bathed in the snow.
A charcoal fire burned in the room, warding off the cold, making it feel like spring.
Huo Dao was summoned into the room. He moved without a sound. Upon entering, his sharp, deep-set eyes swept across the room and landed on the dark figure standing by the window.
As he approached, the person looking out at the snow slowly turned. His features were as if rendered in ink, clear, refined, and timeless. He wore a black robe, which further accentuated the striking whiteness of his exposed skin.
She looked at the boy before her, who was like a wolf. Only fifteen years old, he was like an unsheathed sword, exuding a chilling aura.
Huo Dao remained expressionless, his gaze steady as he looked at her.
He had always followed Shen Yue like a shadow, growing to a point where even Shen Yue could not control him. Yet, this young wolf king had never bared his fangs or claws at such a person, behaving more like a gentle and loyal large dog.
Now, this boy was already a head taller than her.
There was a sense of awe, but more than that, pride.
Shen Yue gently lowered her gaze. The clean, sharp line of her jaw exuded a cool sharpness, like dewdrops crystallizing on snow-covered pine needles.
She stood tall and elegant, with the cold winter snow at her back.
"Huo Dao, you've grown up," she said, as if sighing, and raised her hand to brush the snow from his shoulders.
Huo Dao remained expressionless. It was as if he was born devoid of human emotions like joy or anger. His deep, dark eyes were like those of a beast lurking in the darkness, instilling a primal chill and fear.
Standing before him, Shen Yue appeared exceptionally small and slender, having to look up at him. The skin on her neck was delicate, like fine porcelain.
The tear mole beneath her eyelid was vivid and alluring. Her pale, slender fingers rested lightly and softly on his shoulders.
Huo Dao's Adam's apple subtly bobbed.
"I want you to lead the troops to the frontier in my stead."
She stated her purpose, her dark, moist eyes reflecting Huo Dao's expressionless face.
Huo Dao understood this was a trust.
He would never refuse his master.
His voice was low and hoarse.
"Alright."
Shen Yue smiled, her delicate and beautiful features becoming more animated. Her pale, sickly complexion seemed to glow, and faint dimples appeared.
She stroked Huo Dao's head with a touch of affection.
"Don't disappoint me."
Huo Dao stood motionlessly, like a statue, quiet and obedient, appearing to possess no sharp edges.
His eyes, however, darkened, becoming unnervingly deep and black.
He merely pressed his pale lips together with restraint. Even as his fangs itched to lunge and tear at the prey before him.
Huo Dao was never a docile large dog, but a fierce and brutal wolf king. The layer of gentle fur was merely to cloud the vision of the person before him.
——
Snowflakes drifted with the wind, like pure white petals falling from the sky. Landing on the branches and leaves of trees, they sculpted the trees into jade trees and flowering branches.
Shen Yue walked alone, holding an umbrella, admiring the falling snow.
She didn't particularly like snow. In her childhood, the Winter Solstice was often the most difficult time. Without charcoal fires or warm clothes, she would fall asleep in the biting cold of the night.
Unconsciously, she found herself at Qingyue Hall. Shen Yue looked at the familiar surroundings and suddenly came back to her senses. She gazed silently, not stepping closer.
Since their last argument, Shen Yue had not seen Cheng Qian Gong for over half a year.
It seemed she had truly decided to let go, and had not inquired about Cheng Qian Gong since. Qingyue Hall appeared desolate, with a thick layer of snow piled at the entrance.
She thought that perhaps Cheng Qian Gong had already left. After all, in his eyes, Qingyue Hall was like a cage; he must have been eager to depart.
Thinking this, Shen Yue's throat tightened.
She didn't know how long she stood there until her hands and feet became numb with cold. A thin layer of snow settled on her long lashes. She exhaled, releasing a thick puff of white mist.
Her long, delicate lashes drooped. Her face was pale, her lips a vivid red, appearing beautiful and bewitching.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. The cold wind was blocked, and Shen Yue's lashes fluttered. She abruptly raised her eyes, and a gentle, refined face appeared in her sight. He was dressed in white, with a thick cloak draped over him. His figure was as straight as a green bamboo, and his long, slender fingers, with clearly defined joints, held the black umbrella handle, shielding her from the wind and snow.
In that instant, time seemed to stand still. She looked at the man before her, and her previously dormant heart began to stir again.
The snow continued to fall, like a sky full of fluttering willow catkins.
A faint floral scent drifted through the air—the fragrance of plum blossoms. On the man's shoulder, a plum blossom rested, its petals crystalline, its pistils delicate, creating a striking contrast against the swirling snow.
Neither of them spoke, but in their exchanged glances, something indescribable seemed to be spreading.
"Your Highness."
It was Cheng Qian Gong who spoke first. His eyes were clear and refined, his face as beautiful as jade. He was the same as he was six months ago, yet somehow different in a way that was hard to articulate.
Shen Yue lowered her gaze first. Her face was pale from the cold, but her lips were as vividly red as the plum blossom on his shoulder.
Another eerie silence descended, as if no one else existed in the world, as if the voice that had just spoken was merely an illusion.