In the afternoon after the Light Network military council ended, a rare trace of warm sunlight appeared in the sky.
Su Mu Chen returned to the rear courtyard through the secret passage and only then relaxed slightly.
He knew very well that Xiao Yuan had too many enemies. Even within Linbei City, he still had to be cautious at every turn.
And he was one of Xiao Yuan’s secrets.
Naturally, while moving about within Da Sheng, he also had to be careful so as not to cause trouble for Xiao Yuan.
At present, the area where he could move freely was limited to the underground hall beneath the Ancient Gate and the rear courtyard of the administrative office.
When Xiao Yuan saw him, he walked over and handed Su Mu Chen an exquisitely crafted white gauze veil hat.
“Put this on.”
Xiao Yuan’s tone was gentle, yet carried an unquestionable authority.
Su Mu Chen took the veil hat and looked at the long white gauze hanging down from it.
He tilted his head, confusion appearing on his face.
“I’m taking you out for a walk.”
Looking at him, a trace of tenderness rippled through the depths of Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
“This city was able to come back to life, and half the credit belongs to you. You should at least see with your own eyes what you saved.”
Although he wished he could lock Su Mu Chen away in the safest place possible, he did not want to keep Su Mu Chen confined to the rear courtyard of the Northern Frontier Administrative Office forever. That would be too unfair to him.
Su Mu Chen’s heart stirred slightly, and he nodded.
He had wanted to see the Northern Frontier for a long time, to see Xiao Yuan’s city.
He wanted to understand this world better.
But he knew that Linbei City was currently filled with all sorts of people, and Xiao Yuan was trying to prevent his true appearance from being exposed and attracting unnecessary trouble.
He immediately put on the veil hat. Looking at Xiao Yuan through the hazy white gauze, he could not help smiling.
“Not bad. Although it makes things a little darker, it’s much more comfortable than wearing an N95 all day in the emergency room.”
Xiao Yuan’s hand, which had been smoothing out the hanging gauze for him, paused slightly.
Although he did not understand what “Ninety-Five” was, judging from Su Mu Chen’s expression, he guessed it must be something extremely stuffy and hot.
◇◆◇◆◇
Their first stop was the east gate of Linbei City.
The heavy wooden gate was covered in old scars left by blades and axes, as well as charred black marks from fires.
Wind passed through the gate passage, producing a low, mournful whine.
Xiao Yuan stood beneath the city gate and looked up at the mottled bricks, remaining silent for a long time.
“The first time I was ordered to lead troops to the Northern Frontier, this was what I saw.”
Xiao Yuan’s voice was very soft, as though he were telling someone else’s story.
“At that time, this was still a dead city. Half the city gate had collapsed, and the entire city was scorched earth. There was no cooking smoke, no human voices. Even the carrion-eating crows were unwilling to come.”
Su Mu Chen stood beside him, looking at the enormous city through the white gauze.
He did not speak. He simply listened quietly.
For the first time, he directly felt that the gradually returning signs of life within the city and the partially repaired walls had all been slowly pieced back together by the man beside him over a very long period of time, bit by bit, like swallows carrying mud to build a nest.
The two of them followed the main street deeper into the city.
Along both sides of the street were already stalls selling miscellaneous goods and simple food, filled with a rough yet lively atmosphere of everyday life.
These people had all come because they had heard that Prince Su was here. Refugees and displaced people from the surrounding areas had gradually poured into this former ghost city in search of shelter.
Along the way, patrol veterans and commoners doing business would occasionally recognize Xiao Yuan.
“Your Highness!”
“Greetings, Your Highness!”
The commoners did not become frightened and kneel tremblingly. Instead, their eyes held both awe and familiarity.
The patrolling veterans would even stop, straighten their backs, and salute.
Xiao Yuan nodded slightly as usual.
Occasionally, he would stop and ask a couple of questions.
“Are the chilblains on your legs better?”
“How is the roof repair in the southern part of the city going?”
His practiced manner clearly showed that this was not his first time coming out to inspect the city.
As they passed a sesame-cake stall steaming with heat, the wrinkled old shopkeeper’s eyes lit up, and he called out loudly, “Your Highness!”
Xiao Yuan stopped and replied familiarly, “The usual.”
The shopkeeper immediately and deftly wrapped two freshly baked, golden-brown sesame cakes in coarse paper and cheerfully handed them over.
Xiao Yuan took them and handed one to Su Mu Chen.
Holding the piping-hot sesame cake, Su Mu Chen looked at him in surprise through the white gauze.
Although he knew that Xiao Yuan was not very formal in private, he was still somewhat surprised.
“You actually come out personally to buy sesame cakes?”
Xiao Yuan took a bite and said calmly, “There used to be no grain in the city. I had to divide a sesame cake like this between two meals.”
Su Mu Chen froze slightly.
He lowered his head and took a bite. The fragrance of flour mixed with the slightly coarse taste of wheat bran spread through his mouth, yet he felt an unusual warmth.
However, as they continued forward, Su Mu Chen’s “occupational habit” as a doctor ultimately could not help but act up.
He saw several poorly dressed children running barefoot through the mud at the entrance of an alley.
He saw piles of foul-smelling waste accumulated around a corner.
He saw a butcher slaughtering livestock and draining their blood directly beside a well, attracting swarms of flies.
To a modern doctor, such a sight was almost unbearable, as though someone were slowly grinding a blunt knife against his body.
“Wait.”
Su Mu Chen suddenly spoke.
“What is it?”
Xiao Yuan stopped.
Su Mu Chen quickly walked over and pulled up a child who was crouching beside a drainage ditch and playing.
“Don’t play with the water here. It’s dirty,” he said gently.
The child was startled and immediately ran away.
Xiao Yuan walked over and frowned slightly.
“Dangerous?”
“Not an immediate danger, but it can easily make people sick.”
Su Mu Chen sighed and turned toward Xiao Yuan, his tone becoming serious.
“There are more and more people in Linbei City now. If we don’t establish rules, an epidemic could easily break out. No matter how much medicinal material we have, it won’t be enough.”
He lowered his voice and pointed toward the well and the slaughter stall beside it.
“The wells must be separated from places where sewage is discharged, with sufficient distance between them. Garbage needs to be disposed of by digging designated pits outside the city and burning it regularly. We also need to educate the common people that drinking water must be boiled.”
Xiao Yuan did not interrupt him. Instead, he carefully committed every word to memory.
His gaze toward Su Mu Chen grew deeper.
He knew that Su Mu Chen’s medical skills were extraordinary, but he had not expected the angle from which he viewed problems to encompass the life and death of an entire city.
He did not merely treat people.
He also “treated the city.”
◇◆◇◆◇
Afterward, Xiao Yuan took him to a temporary medical station established inside the city.
It had originally been an abandoned government office, but now it was packed with wounded soldiers and sick refugees.
The air was heavy with the smell of medicinal herbs, blood, and the foul stench of flesh and wounds that had festered.
Many soldiers were facing amputation because of severe chilblains, and suppressed cries of pain could be heard from time to time.
The moment Su Mu Chen stepped inside, his entire presence changed.
He walked directly to an old soldier who was groaning in pain, crouched down, and skillfully untied the improperly wrapped cloth around the man’s leg, carefully examining the infected wound.
A military doctor was carrying over a basin of water and was about to reprimand him.
However, when he looked up and saw Prince Su standing only a step behind the white-veiled man, he was so frightened that he nearly dropped the basin.
This military doctor happened to be one of the very few people who had seen “Doctor Su’s” true appearance before. He immediately recognized Su Mu Chen’s figure, and cold sweat instantly broke out across his body. He did not even dare breathe too loudly.
“This wound wasn’t cleaned properly. Wrapping it directly will cause an infection.”
Su Mu Chen frowned slightly.
“Scissors.”
The moment the word left his mouth, a pair of scissors that had been sterilized in boiling water was steadily placed into his palm. The movement of handing over the instrument was extremely practiced.
Su Mu Chen froze for a moment.
He raised his head and saw Xiao Yuan standing beside him.
There was not the slightest trace of a prince’s airs about him. He was even holding clean cloth and a basin of hot water, his movements so practiced that it was as though he had done this countless times.
There was not even any need for unnecessary verbal communication. The understanding cultivated between them through countless days and nights flowed naturally between the two.
Su Mu Chen’s heart warmed, and he lowered his head to continue treating the wound.
The injured veteran did not know the identity of the person before him. He merely assumed he was some kind-hearted physician and weakly asked, “Young sir… you know medicine?”
As Su Mu Chen worked on cleaning the wound again, he smiled gently behind the white gauze.
“I know a little. Bear with it. It may hurt a little.”
The military doctor beside them stiffened slightly upon hearing the words “I know a little.”
He thought to himself: If he really only knows a little, then aren’t the rest of us military doctors worse than complete laymen?
Xiao Yuan stood silently to the side without saying a word.
The noise and filth around him seemed to have nothing to do with him. His gaze remained focused solely on Su Mu Chen.
This was the Su Mu Chen he liked the most.
He never put on the airs of a physician. He showed no disgust whatsoever. The moment he saw a patient, his eyes held nothing but pure concentration and compassion.
After finishing the treatment, he washed his hands while giving several instructions to the military doctor in charge of the medical station.
“Establish categories for the wounded and separate the seriously wounded from the lightly wounded. Also, if there are no vegetables, have the kitchen provide some bean sprouts for the wounded. They can prevent bleeding gums and wounds from ulcerating.”
The military doctor nodded repeatedly in agreement, not daring to be negligent.
After leaving the medical station, the two arrived at the training grounds.
Hundreds of soldiers were carrying sandbags and running drills in the cold wind, their battle cries shaking the heavens.
Su Mu Chen stood beside the raised platform and observed for a while. He did not mention any more modern medical theories, merely saying softly:
“Everyone is too thin.”
Xiao Yuan looked at the soldiers below, his eyes darkening slightly.
“There still isn’t enough food. They can only manage to eat until they’re half full.”
The imperial court had deliberately cut off their grain supply, leaving him to find his own solutions.
Spring plowing had already begun, but the harvest season had not yet arrived.
“Once the food supply becomes stable, the soldiers should eat meat at least once every seven days. Legumes and salt must never be lacking either.”
Su Mu Chen looked at those thin yet resolute figures.
“What soldiers lack most is not training. It’s nutrition.”
His gaze then fell on several children at the edge of the training grounds who were poking their heads out and watching the soldiers drill.
“Does the city have a school?”
Su Mu Chen suddenly asked.
Xiao Yuan shook his head.
“We haven’t had time to take care of that yet.”
“You don’t need to build a large academy at first. Find a few literate veterans or clerks to teach the children how to read.”
Through the white gauze, Su Mu Chen looked at Xiao Yuan seriously.
“Your future soldiers, officials, and even military doctors will all grow from among these children.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze trembled slightly, and he turned to look at Su Mu Chen.
The Northern Frontier twenty years from now—
This person was planning a future for him that would flourish without end.
He realized that they were looking in the same direction.
◇◆◇◆◇
After leaving the training grounds, Xiao Yuan next took him to the military stables in the northern part of the city.
The Northern Frontier’s warhorses had sturdy bones and were quietly eating their fodder.
The moment the two walked inside, several warhorses simultaneously raised their ears.
The large horse standing at the very back lifted its head.
It was a rare black-brown warhorse, its coat so dark that it almost blended into the night. It was a full size larger than the other warhorses, with an especially thick mane and tail.
It did not neigh. Its glossy black eyes simply looked toward Xiao Yuan before it slowly walked over and snorted through the wooden railing.
Su Mu Chen could not help laughing.
“Is this the horse we rode that night? It recognizes you.”
Xiao Yuan also rarely curved his lips into a smile.
“Yes. Its name is Xuan Shuang. It always knows.”
Xuan Shuang came closer.
Su Mu Chen had never interacted with a real horse before coming to Da Sheng.
Seeing how majestic and powerful it was, he instinctively reached out, wanting to touch its nose.
The groom beside them, who was adding fodder, was startled and hurriedly called out, “Young sir, be careful! Xuan Shuang bites people—”
Before he could finish, the groom abruptly fell silent.
Xuan Shuang not only did not become agitated, it actually lowered its head and brought its nose close to Su Mu Chen’s palm, sniffing it. Then it stood quietly and allowed him to stroke it.
The groom was dumbfounded.
“…Other than His Highness and Lord Xia, this is the first time it has allowed a stranger to touch it.”
Su Mu Chen stroked downward along its sturdy neck.
Out of a doctor’s habit, his hand moved toward the horse’s leg bones.
When he touched the inside of its left front hoof, his fingers paused slightly.
“This scar is very deep.”
Su Mu Chen crouched down and looked at the old scar that was normally hidden on the inside and impossible to see.
Xiao Yuan lowered his eyes and remained silent for a moment.
In the end, Xiao Yuan spoke himself.
“I got it the first time I took it onto the battlefield.”
Xiao Yuan picked up the horse brush beside him and gently and slowly brushed it down along Xuan Shuang’s back.
“How old were you then?” Su Mu Chen asked.
“Sixteen.”
Su Mu Chen’s heart jolted.
At sixteen, in the modern world, he would merely have been a high school student.
Yet Xiao Yuan had already been fighting amid piles of corpses in the Northern Frontier.
“You came to the Northern Frontier many times?” Su Mu Chen asked.
As Xiao Yuan brushed Xuan Shuang’s coat, he calmly recounted it.
“The first time, I was sixteen.”
He did not stop brushing.
“I accompanied the army to observe the fighting and was ambushed by the Northern Di. I was struck by an arrow in the shoulder. It was this horse that carried me through the broken rocks and out of the encirclement.”
“The second time, I was eighteen.”
He brushed across Xuan Shuang’s back.
“The Northern Di invaded south, and I came as temporary military supervisor.”
“The third time, I was twenty.”
He brushed Xuan Shuang’s back again.
“I formally took command of the army. Pei Yi began following me at that time.”
“The fourth time, I was twenty-three.”
He continued brushing.
“I defended Han Chuan.”
The movement of the brush stopped.
Xiao Yuan raised his head and looked toward the sky outside Linbei City, a trace of melancholy in his eyes.
“The fifth time… I had no intention of returning to the capital.”
Su Mu Chen realized that although Xiao Yuan had a home called the “Imperial Palace” and the “Prince Su Residence,” he still had nowhere to go.
The emperor had sent him to the Northern Frontier again and again, and his intention was obvious.
The emperor’s attitude had also made the Crown Prince and the other princes even more brazen.
Because they knew that no matter what they did, the emperor would not speak up.
Su Mu Chen could not help thinking of Su Jian Cheng, who was already dead.
It was not because he missed him. The wound in his heart was far from healed.
He simply suddenly felt that his circumstances resembled Xiao Yuan’s in some ways.
But compared with himself, the wounds Xiao Yuan had suffered and the life-and-death burdens he had carried were far heavier.
Now, Xiao Yuan was surrounded by enemies filled with malice, all watching him closely.
Whether it was the Northern Di, the emperor, the Crown Prince, or the Sheng family—
Xiao Yuan could only struggle to survive within this narrow gap.
Su Mu Chen looked at Xuan Shuang, which had remained quietly within half a step of Xiao Yuan the entire time.
It was not clinginess.
It was using its entire body to confirm that the master who had crawled out of countless piles of corpses was still alive today.
Su Mu Chen stepped forward and gently took the slightly heavy horse brush from Xiao Yuan’s hand.
Xiao Yuan froze slightly and turned his head to look at him.
Su Mu Chen followed Xuan Shuang’s sturdy back, brushing its coat again and again with extraordinary patience and gentleness.
His gaze unintentionally swept over Xuan Shuang’s left front hoof.
He noticed that whenever Xiao Yuan had brushed this area just now, his movements had instinctively slowed, as though he were afraid of hurting it.
“You look at this spot every time?” Su Mu Chen asked softly as he continued brushing.
Xiao Yuan answered with a quiet “Mm.”
His gaze fell upon the old scar on the hoof, his voice low and hoarse.
“I’m afraid the old wound will split open again.”
“It’s always watching you,” Su Mu Chen said softly.
Xiao Yuan patted Xuan Shuang’s neck and said quietly, “It’s just afraid I’ll disappear again.”
Su Mu Chen’s fingers trembled slightly.
He thought of how, during every journey Xiao Yuan had made north in the past, he might have died on the battlefield at any moment and never returned.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Su Mu Chen seemed to be speaking to Xuan Shuang, yet also seemed to be speaking to the person beside him.
“In the past… you were always the one accompanying him. And thank you for taking me to find Xiao last time.”
“From now on, I’ll take care of it with you.”
Su Mu Chen turned back and said this to Xiao Yuan.
He was already thinking that he would read more books about veterinary medicine after returning.
Xiao Yuan’s gaze trembled slightly before becoming filled with tenderness.
He turned and walked toward another stall beside them.
Standing there was a horse slightly smaller than Xuan Shuang.
Its coat was gray-black like the thin dusk of winter, covered all over with silver spots resembling snowflakes scattered across it. Its mane and tail, however, were soft and pure white.
The young horse had its ears pricked up and had been watching Su Mu Chen curiously the entire time.
Su Mu Chen looked at it too.
Although he did not know much about horses, he could immediately tell that this horse was different from the other warhorses.
“Yours,” Xiao Yuan said.
Su Mu Chen froze upon hearing this, thinking he had misheard.
“Mine?”
Xiao Yuan nodded as naturally as could be.
“Her name is Xue Chen. She just turned three and is still undergoing training.”
“But… I don’t even know how to ride a horse.”
Su Mu Chen instantly became somewhat at a loss.
“You can learn. I’ll teach you.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him, a faint yet lingering smile in the depths of his eyes.
“The Northern Frontier is very large. If you want this prince to carry you on horseback every time, that can also be done.”
Through the white gauze, Su Mu Chen’s ears instantly became hot.
He remembered what had happened last time. The situation had been too urgent then, and he had not thought about anything at all. He had only been focused on saving Xiao.
But now that he thought about it carefully, his body had already automatically remembered the broad chest behind him, the warmth of that body, and the arms that had held him tightly, preventing him from falling off the horse.
At that moment, he made up his mind—
He had to learn. He absolutely had to learn!
The young horse named Xue Chen noticed a stranger approaching. Instead of backing away, it actually came closer on its own.
Three of its hooves were slightly darker, while only its left front hoof was white, as though it had stepped into a patch of unmelted snow.
Xue Chen lowered its warm nose and gently touched Su Mu Chen’s shoulder, then sniffed the back of his neck as though confirming his scent.
It was astonishingly docile.
Su Mu Chen turned his head. Seeing how gentle and adorable it was, he smiled and reached out to stroke Xue Chen’s pure-white mane.
The groom beside them was now completely dumbfounded.
It was not just Xuan Shuang.
Even Xue Chen was this affectionate toward him.
“This… This horse is usually gentle, but it’s very wary of strangers. How…”
“Is it because I have some kind of scent on me?”
Su Mu Chen looked at himself in confusion.
“No.”
Xiao Yuan paused before looking deeply at him.
“Because you make people feel at ease.”
It was unclear whether he was talking about the horse or himself.
“Xuan Shuang isn’t suitable for you. It’s a warhorse.”
Xiao Yuan walked to Su Mu Chen’s side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, looking at the black and gray horses before them.
“Xue Chen has a slender frame and can perform the fox-step gait. She runs very steadily and is suitable for you. The horse I chose for you doesn’t need to be capable of charging into battle.”
Xiao Yuan’s voice sounded especially deep and gentle in the breeze of the stable.
“As long as she can safely bring you home, that’s enough.”
Hearing those words, warmth spread through Su Mu Chen’s chest.
He looked at Xue Chen, then turned his head toward the battle-hardened Xuan Shuang.
Only at this moment did he truly understand Xiao Yuan’s intentions.
Xuan Shuang was the warhorse that had accompanied Xiao Yuan time and time again as he fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood. That was a fate of sharing life and death.
But Xue Chen was not.
Xue Chen did not need to learn how to charge into battle. She did not need to witness the cruelty and slaughter of the Northern Frontier. She did not even need to run the fastest.
The horse Xiao Yuan had chosen for him was not the strongest horse.
It was the safest horse.
Because from beginning to end, Xiao Yuan had never intended to let him truly become involved in the game of Da Sheng.
Su Mu Chen’s nose tingled slightly, yet his heart was filled with a burning warmth unlike anything he had ever felt before.
He suddenly smiled, his eyes filled with a softness and determination that even he had never noticed.
“Okay.”
He reached out and hugged Xue Chen’s warm neck. Then he raised his eyes and met Xiao Yuan’s gaze with blazing determination.
“Once I learn how to ride—”
Facing the fierce evening wind of the Northern Frontier, Su Mu Chen spoke each word with utmost seriousness.
“Wherever you go in the future, I’ll go with you.”
The afterglow of the setting sun fell across the weathered wooden railings of the stable.
A faint smile curved Xiao Yuan’s lips.
◇◆◇◆◇
The setting sun descended westward, and dusk gradually spread across the sky.
Xiao Yuan took him to the Northern Frontier Martyrs’ Shrine at the southeastern corner.
This newly built shrine stood upon the former site of an abandoned ancient shrine.
Beneath the ground was the “Ancient Gate” connecting the two worlds.
But Xiao Yuan had not brought him here today for that gate.
Inside the shrine, the light was dim.
Countless wooden memorial tablets stood silently upon the altar, like rows of silent gravestones.
Yet what shook Su Mu Chen’s heart was not those cold names, but the things placed before the memorial tablets.
Half of a dried, hard steamed bun, a bowl of cheap cloudy liquor, several withered wildflowers that no one knew where they had been picked, and a rough little wooden tablet with crooked writing written on it in charcoal.
Twenty years had passed, yet the people of this city still had not forgotten them.
Xiao Yuan slowly stepped forward, lit three sticks of incense, respectfully bowed three times, and steadily placed the incense into the burner.
He stood before that sea of memorial tablets, his tall back carrying an indescribable loneliness.
“This city was not saved by me.”
Xiao Yuan’s voice echoed through the shrine, hoarse and heavy.
“They were the ones who guarded it for me.”
Su Mu Chen did not offer any words of comfort.
As a doctor, he knew better than anyone that some pain did not need to be “comforted.”
It only needed to be “seen.”
He quietly walked to Xiao Yuan’s side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, silently gazing at the memorial tablets.
After a long while, Su Mu Chen finally spoke softly.
“At the medical station today, I saw many veteran soldiers. The wounds on their bodies have already healed, but their eyes were very empty.”
He turned his head and looked at Xiao Yuan’s stern profile.
“They probably don’t sleep well at night and are easily startled awake. In the future, when there’s time, let them gather together more often. Having some plain tea and chatting together would be good.”
His tone was gentle, carrying a physician’s compassion.
“If the wounds in their hearts remain suppressed for too long, even the strongest person will eventually collapse.”
Xiao Yuan’s body paused slightly.
He understood the deeper meaning behind Su Mu Chen’s words.
Those words were not only about the veterans.
They were also about him.
He thought of Xiao’s appearance.
Although Xiao currently seemed normal, he was relying on medication and the people around him to support himself.
That delicate balance could still collapse again at any moment.
His gaze shifted slightly, and he answered:
“Okay.”
After leaving the Martyrs’ Shrine, the two climbed onto the highest remaining section of Linbei City’s damaged yet still imposing walls.
The setting sun melted like gold, coating the entire city in a magnificent layer of red-gold.
The wind came from the north, carrying dry dust and a faint chill as it swept across the city walls and rooftops.
Looking down upon the city, cooking smoke rose in wisps. The bustle of the marketplace and the sounds of soldiers drilling on the training grounds drifted on the wind, intertwining into a scene full of vitality.
The evening wind whipped around them.
Xiao Yuan faced the wind and gazed at the city beneath his feet.
“In the past, there was only snow here.”
Su Mu Chen quietly looked at the human world filled with warmth and life before him.
After a long time, he softly replied, “In the future, it will become livelier and livelier. Once the Light Network is built, the clock towers completed, and the medical halls and workshops constructed, there will be more and more commoners. This city will never be a ghost city again.”
This was not some vague hope.
It was a real blueprint they were drawing together.
Su Mu Chen paused, then turned his head and gazed deeply into Xiao Yuan’s dark eyes. A warm smile unconsciously curved his lips.
“I always thought that everything you were planning was to save the Northern Frontier, to seize the realm of Da Sheng.”
“But today I realized that’s not it.”
His voice was soft, yet it fell upon Xiao Yuan’s heart like a heavy hammer.
“You are giving the countless people in this world who have no home a place they can return to.”
Xiao Yuan trembled slightly, extremely complicated and intense emotions surging through his eyes.
He looked at the person before him, who seemed capable of seeing straight through to the depths of his soul. His throat moved, but for a long time, he could not speak.
The evening wind brushed past, making the white gauze on Su Mu Chen’s veil hat flutter gently.
Xiao Yuan naturally reached out and straightened the veil that had been blown out of place.
The movement was careful, as though he were handling a priceless treasure.
“…It’s also for myself.”
Xiao Yuan’s voice was very low.
Before Su Mu Chen, he opened up that desolate corner buried deep within the bottom of his soul, unknown to everyone else.
“If one day I have nowhere else to go… there must at least be a place that I can return to.”
A rare longing surged deep within his eyes.
Hearing those words, Su Mu Chen’s heart suddenly trembled.
A sentence Xiao Yuan had spoken in the stable not long ago surfaced in his mind—
“Bring you home.”
At that moment, it was as though a massive stone had crashed into the depths of his heart, sending layer after layer of aching ripples outward.
He suddenly understood.
Those words Xiao Yuan had spoken had actually been meant for himself, too.
Looking at this man who was accustomed to protecting everyone behind him and arranging everything thoroughly and properly—
yet who had to fight desperately, step by step, even to secure a “place to belong” for himself—
all the rationality in Su Mu Chen’s eyes melted into a pool of spring water in an instant.
He quietly turned around, his gaze passing beyond the city wall toward the distant city, where lights were gradually illuminating one after another.
After a long while, he gently curved his lips into a smile as soft as the spring breeze.
“Then come back to Gui Chen Zhai.”
Su Mu Chen did not look at him. His tone was calm and natural, as though he were simply talking about the most ordinary thing in everyday life.
“Your place has always been there. And I… will always be there too.”
There were no grand vows of eternal love in those words.
Yet they carried more weight than any vow could.
It was acceptance without reservation.
The evening wind swept past once more, lifting a corner of the white gauze and revealing Su Mu Chen’s handsome, gentle profile, his eyes filled with soft light.
Xiao Yuan said nothing.
He simply stood there, silently and greedily gazing at the person before him.
Those dark eyes that had once been as cold as ice, filled with vigilance and killing intent, were now slowly dismantled and melted inch by inch by those words.
Silently.
Irreversibly.
And in the end, they transformed into a dark flame so deep it could not be seen to the bottom, a flame powerful enough to burn away all reason.
Sensing the unusual silence beside her, Su Mu Chen turned his head in confusion.
However, before he could clearly see the emotions in the other man’s eyes, Xiao Yuan had already moved.
The layer of white gauze was lifted, and the distance separating the two disappeared in an instant.
In Su Mu Chen’s startled, slightly widened eyes, Xiao Yuan’s presence pressed down upon him, and his burning lips fiercely covered his own.
The blaze that seemed to have been suppressed for a thousand years and could no longer be controlled now spread completely through those dark eyes, igniting an uncontrollable wildfire.
The kiss carried an almost frenzied possessiveness and a profound attachment.
“Mm…!”
Su Mu Chen’s breathing faltered.
Caught completely off guard, he instinctively tried to retreat.
His mind finally began to function again.
What about reality?
What about distance?
What about he isn’t someone I should touch?
Those thoughts tried to pull him back.
But every shackle shattered within this kiss before it could even last a moment.
They were completely overwhelmed by the heat flooding over him.
He realized, with painful clarity, that in front of this man, he could not deceive his own heart at all.
He had known it for a long time.
He simply had never been willing to admit it.
When the final defenses of reason completely collapsed, he gently closed his eyes, and his tense shoulders slowly relaxed.
Then, with a soft sigh that sounded almost like surrender, he obediently parted his lips slightly, allowing the other man’s invasion.
The moment Xiao Yuan sensed his response, the final thread in his mind named “restraint” snapped with a crack.
The kiss, initially born from a moment of loss of control, became deeper and more urgent.
His fingers tightened, holding the other man firmly.
Their breaths intertwined, inseparable.
Xiao Yuan felt as though he were going mad, wanting to crush the other person into his very bones and blood.
It was not until Su Mu Chen’s hand weakly caught hold of his sleeve, his breathing already completely disordered, that Xiao Yuan finally recovered a trace of reason.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, leaving a small distance between them for them to breathe.
He lowered his head and saw what Su Mu Chen looked like now.
His eyes were half-open, the corners tinged red. His breathing had yet to settle, and his lips still bore traces left behind by the kiss.
Xiao Yuan stared for a moment.
His Adam’s apple moved once before he finally and with difficulty shifted his gaze away—but not very far.
“Mu An.”
His voice was hoarse, lower than usual.
“I’m sorry. Just now…”
He paused.
The words I couldn’t hold myself back were spoken so softly that it sounded as though he were admitting to a failure even he had never anticipated.
He had promised that he would wait, giving Su Mu Chen time to adjust and consider.
He had thought he could wait.
But those words just now, that completely unreserved offering of himself, had effortlessly shattered the self-control he had always been proud of.
Only then did he realize that he had overestimated himself.
For more than twenty years, nothing he had wanted had ever come easily. He had always had to fight for everything with his own life.
Yet Su Mu Chen had quietly placed before him a warmth and a home he had never even dared to hope for.
So pure and clean, untouched by schemes or calculations.
For the first time, he understood that there truly was someone in this world willing to give to him without conditions.
At this moment, he could no longer wait.
Su Mu Chen’s face was flushed all the way to his ears, and even his neck was covered in a faint blush.
His heart was still pounding wildly against his chest, beating so fast it seemed ready to leap into his throat.
In a panic, he reached out and pulled the white gauze back down, trying to conceal his utterly flustered appearance.
His voice still carried the light panting and embarrassment that had yet to subside.
“You—you… how am I supposed to respond to that?”
What was he supposed to say?
It’s okay?
Or Be more careful next time?
That would be way too strange.
Hearing his exasperated voice coming through the white gauze, Xiao Yuan could not help letting out a low laugh.
The laughter was brief, but carried something he rarely revealed.
The gloom and exhaustion of the past several days disappeared in this moment. His dark eyes were filled with pleasure and tenderness.
The setting sun finally sank completely behind the rolling mountains in the distance, and the last trace of afterglow was about to disappear into the night.
Xiao Yuan reached out and took Su Mu Chen’s hand hanging at his side, firmly enclosing that slightly cool hand within his broad, warm palm.
This time, Su Mu Chen did not pull away.
He simply let him hold it.
Xiao Yuan turned his head and looked at the person beside him, his tone serious and resolute.
“Mu An, trust me. One day, I will make it so you no longer need to hide behind this white veil. I will let you walk openly and proudly across every inch of Da Sheng’s land.”
Su Mu Chen felt the warmth coming from their joined palms and squeezed his hand in return.
Facing the deepening night, he softly replied:
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
Although there were still many realities standing between them, Su Mu Chen suddenly felt that with Xiao Yuan beside him, those problems no longer seemed quite so impossible to overcome.
The afterglow stretched their shadows long across the ground, their figures leaning closely together.
Atop this lonely Northern Frontier city gradually awakening from wind, snow, and the flames of war, they stood shoulder to shoulder with their fingers tightly intertwined, watching over the same world of human warmth and everyday life.