Jun Huailang was afraid Jun Linghuan would catch cold, so he had originally intended to make her stay indoors and postpone learning the qin until another day. But Jun Linghuan refused. Seeing the snow only made her more excited, and she insisted on going into the courtyard with Jun Huailang to play the qin.
Jun Huailang had always been unable to do anything about her, so he could only have the palace maids serve her a bowl of hot soup and wrap her in a fox-fur cloak.
Once the two of them were seated in the pavilion, Jun Linghuan raised her head and looked outside. She could not help sighing, “It’s so beautiful!”
Jun Huailang followed her gaze.
The golden glazed-tile eaves of the pavilion were draped with fluttering gauze curtains. Outside, the snow-covered landscape was wrapped in silver and white. Heavy snow was falling from the sky, drifting and swirling gently downward.
But Jun Huailang suddenly wondered what that maple forest looked like at this moment.
Those amber-colored eyes appeared in his mind again, entirely beyond his control.
He calmly withdrew his gaze, placed his hand on the qin strings, and stopped thinking about such irrelevant things.
Although Jun Linghuan liked snowy days, she was afraid of the cold. After playing only a few notes, her hands were already too frozen to move. Yet she still refused to go back. She coyly nestled against Jun Huailang’s side and asked him to play the qin for her.
Jun Huailang had always been unable to refuse this little girl’s requests.
Thus, when Xue Yan arrived, he had not even entered the gates of Mingluan Palace before he heard the melodious, flowing sound of the qin.
About ten days earlier, he had received an imperial edict ordering him to be adopted under Consort Shu’s name. Xue Yan did not need to think much to know that Consort Shu must have offended someone in the palace, causing that person to find every possible way to stuff him, this “calamity star,” into Consort Shu’s palace. They clearly intended to make her life utterly miserable.
Emperor Qingping’s imperial edict had also put on an affected display of concern for him, telling him to prioritize recovering from his injuries and move into Consort Shu’s palace on another day.
Xue Yan knew that Consort Shu must have been displeased and caused quite a commotion in the palace. Otherwise, Emperor Qingping would not have given him the additional consideration of allowing him to recover in his own palace first.
After thinking it over briefly, Xue Yan realized that this brainless Consort Shu might actually be able to help him.
He symbolically spent a few days recovering from his injuries. Then, deliberately choosing today, he gathered his few belongings and brought only Jinbao with him, following the people sent from Mingluan Palace to his new residence.
Before dawn, snow had already been falling throughout the palace for half the night. By now, a thick layer covered the white marble paving stones.
Xue Yan walked through the snow along the palace road in silence.
Today was especially cold. Xue Yan had no winter clothes and wore only a thin set of robes. Jinbao followed beside him, having put all of his autumn clothes on at once. Wrapped up like a bulky dumpling, he was still trembling nonstop.
“Your Highness, aren’t you cold?” Jinbao could not help asking Xue Yan softly.
Xue Yan glanced at him but did not answer.
He had lived in Yan territory since childhood, where winter arrived much earlier than in Chang’an. Yan territory was poor and also supported a large number of troops, so having no winter clothing to ward off the cold was commonplace once winter came.
When he was seven or eight, Prince Yan had raised him in the military camp. His food, clothing, and daily necessities were no different from those of ordinary soldiers. He had already forgotten how many bitterly cold winters he had endured.
In fact, during the first year he entered the military camp, rumors about him being a calamity star had been rampant. On his very first day there, several old soldiers had pinned him down in the snow and beaten him. He had been frozen until he lost all sensation in his body, to the point where he could no longer even feel pain.
But he did not endure such treatment for many years. Before long, no one in the military camp could beat him, nor was anyone more ruthless or vicious than he was.
He also grew accustomed to wearing frozen iron armor throughout an entire winter, and instead no longer felt particularly cold.
Many kinds of suffering could gradually become numb through repeated exposure and habit.
Cold was one of them.
So were the hatred and rejection of the world.
Seeing that Xue Yan was not speaking, Jinbao did not dare say anything else.
He had been threatened with the lives of his entire family and forced into acknowledging this master against his will. He had already known that his master was gloomy and frightening. Only after spending more time with him did he realize that his master was even more terrifying than he had imagined.
Someone who did not fear pain or cold and could scheme and lay plans alone in the darkness—if he could be this ruthless toward himself, how could he possibly be gentle toward others?
Apart from obeying him in everything and hoping that he would preserve his own miserable life, there was nothing else Jinbao could do.
The palace attendant walking ahead had been sent by Mingluan Palace. She was merely a palace maid, yet she wore a thick and exquisite brocade winter robe. A dangling hair ornament swayed in her hair, and she did not turn her head even once. Even her back seemed to radiate arrogance.
She led Xue Yan outside Mingluan Palace. From beyond the palace wall, the sound of the qin could already be heard.
It was a pure and melodious tune, calm and distant, like ancient music played by an immortal in the clouds.
Hearing the music, the palace maid raised her chin and looked back. Her expression revealed a proud air, as though she herself shared in the glory.
“It is the Heir playing the qin,” she said. “The Heir is someone from Her Ladyship’s family. Now that you have come here, be careful not to offend him. Otherwise, Her Ladyship certainly will not let you off lightly.”
It was as though the person standing before her was not a prince, but merely a servant dependent upon someone else’s household.
Xue Yan said nothing.
Beside him, the big dumpling Jinbao was shivering with his hands tucked into his sleeves while repeatedly bowing and agreeing.
The palace maid lifted her chin, gave a contemptuous snort, and turned to enter Mingluan Palace.
Jinbao, carrying the luggage under one arm, hurried forward several steps to open the door for Xue Yan.
Xue Yan lifted his leg and stepped over the gilded vermilion threshold of Mingluan Palace.
The moment he entered, the qin music became clearer.
It was like a clear spring trickling through a mountain ravine, unconsciously passing by his side before gently winding around his ears and making his heart itch.
Xue Yan looked in that direction.
Even Xue Yan, who was normally unshaken by anything, froze for a moment.
It was that little young master?
Amid the rustling snowfall, he sat inside the pavilion decorated with carved lacquer and gold, surrounded by drifting gauze curtains.
Today he wore a pure-white cloak, its collar trimmed with soft fox fur, wrapping him warmly from head to toe.
A little girl was nestled against his side, currently leaning against him and acting spoiled.
His slender hands, the joints reddened from the cold, rested upon the qin strings. The music slowly flowed from beneath his fingers.
He lowered his eyes and looked sideways at the little girl beside him, a smile in his eyes that Xue Yan had never seen before.
It was indulgent and gentle, carrying a faint yet intoxicating warmth.
Just then, the little young master casually raised his eyes, and their gazes met.
He had not yet withdrawn his smile. The amusement in his eyes abruptly crashed into Xue Yan’s gaze, as though he were smiling directly at him.
Soft and warm, yet quiet and deep, it seemed as if an invisible warmth had gently wrapped itself around Xue Yan’s entire body.
For no apparent reason, Xue Yan felt a numbness run up his spine.
No one had ever looked at him with such eyes.
That gaze suddenly struck him directly in the heart, producing a strange and unfamiliar sensation with a deadly allure.
Even though Xue Yan was unwilling to admit it, his heart still gave two heavy beats.
But immediately afterward, confusion and surprise appeared in those eyes, and the soft smile from just moments ago disappeared in an instant.
Xue Yan felt like a thief who had luckily stolen a treasure, only to savor his delight for a brief moment before the owner took everything back, leaving him penniless once again.
Xue Yan came back to himself and found the situation somewhat ridiculous.
But at the same time, an impulse to seize and possess it actually arose within his heart.
He suddenly wanted to know what it would be like if he could steal that soft and tender smile, making him smile at himself like that for the rest of his life.
For no reason, Xue Yan’s spine grew numb again, accompanied by a heated, itchy sensation.
Jun Huailang met his gaze for a moment, somewhat surprised, then turned his head and said something to the palace maid beside him.
The palace maid who had just led Xue Yan to Mingluan Palace walked a few steps. Seeing that Xue Yan had not followed, she impatiently turned around and said, “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and follow!”
Xue Yan withdrew his gaze and glanced indifferently at the palace maid.
She had been standing there stamping her feet and blowing warm air into her hands. But when she suddenly met those amber-colored eyes, a chill unexpectedly surged through her heart.
It was as though she had just locked eyes with a ferocious beast.
Then she saw Xue Yan walk over.
His serious injuries had not yet healed, so his steps were slow. When he reached the palace maid’s side, he calmly reminded her, “Please lead the way, Auntie.”
The palace maid came back to her senses. Looking at him again, it seemed as though the fear she had felt moments ago had merely been an illusion.
She steadied herself, turned around once more, and without looking back, led Xue Yan toward the most remote side hall on the western side.
As they passed the main hall, he heard the sound of porcelain shattering from inside.
Meanwhile, after Jun Huailang finished speaking with the palace maid, he learned that today was the day Xue Yan was moving into Consort Shu’s palace.
These past few days, he had heard nothing but Consort Shu’s angry outbursts, yet he had not known that Xue Yan would arrive so early. It caught him completely off guard.
When he raised his eyes again, Xue Yan was already gone.
He remembered that Xue Yan had still been wearing autumn robes.
Normally, whenever a prince moved into a palace, Mingluan Palace should have made proper preparations no matter what—arranging his residence and preparing clothing and daily necessities for him.
Yet today, apart from sending a palace maid to receive him, everything in Mingluan Palace remained exactly as it had been.
Even the mistress of the palace had shut herself inside and was still throwing a tantrum.
Jun Huailang felt as though a mass of damp cotton had become lodged in his chest, leaving him vaguely uncomfortable.
Just then, a palace maid approached with a smile and served the two of them cups of hot tea.
“The wind is strong in the pavilion. Heir and Miss, have some tea to warm yourselves,” she said.
Jun Huailang raised his head and saw that it was Dian Cui, the maid who served at Consort Shu’s side.
Dian Cui had followed Consort Shu since childhood, and Jun Huailang had some memories of her from when he was young.
He lifted his tea and thanked Dian Cui before casually asking, “Auntie Dian Cui, was the person who just moved in the Fifth Prince?”
“Yes,” Dian Cui replied. “It was His Majesty’s decree. The Fifth Prince is to be raised in Her Ladyship’s palace.”
Jun Huailang asked again, “Why has there been no movement in the palace these past few days? It happened rather suddenly.”
Dian Cui smiled and said, “Her Ladyship doesn’t like him, so she doesn’t want to make a fuss about it. But everything that needed to be arranged has already been arranged for him.”
At this, Dian Cui sighed.
“Her Ladyship simply wanted a child too badly. Before this, she said she wanted to raise a prince by her side. This servant tried to persuade her, but Her Ladyship wouldn’t listen… Who would have thought His Majesty would actually have the Fifth Prince adopted by Her Ladyship? The Fifth Prince is already so old. How could he possibly call Her Ladyship his imperial mother?”
At this, she sighed again, her expression filled with worry.
But a suspicious look appeared in Jun Huailang’s eyes.
Consort Shu had asked for it herself?
Dian Cui had tried to persuade her, yet she had refused to listen?
That night, Consort Shu had clearly told him that Dian Cui had persuaded her to adopt a prince, and only then had she truly begun considering the matter…
Yet now, coming from Dian Cui’s mouth, it sounded as though she were trying to distance herself from something.