Time: Three days later, afternoon
Location: Imperial Study
Autumn sunlight streamed through the lattice windows, casting warm patches of light across the chessboard by the window. Black and white stones lay scattered—battle in full swing. This was their usual stolen moment of leisure: a game to relax, and a battlefield to quietly test each other's thoughts.
Gu Lian played black, his moves sharp and aggressive, waves of offense crashing forward. Ai Miao played white, defending with precision—each counter subtle, each brilliant move capable of shifting the tide.
"I hear Lord Wen'an has taken an interest in incense lately?" Gu Lian placed a stone casually, cutting off a vital escape route for one of Ai Miao's dragons.
Ai Miao's fingers paused ever so slightly, holding a white jade stone. He knew exactly what Gu Lian was referring to—the "mosquito-repelling sachet" from that night.
"Your Majesty jests," he replied smoothly, placing his stone in a seemingly inconsequential spot. "I merely browsed a few old texts. Hardly worthy of the word 'research.'"
"Oh?" Gu Lian raised an eyebrow, placing another stone—his attack intensifying. "I thought perhaps you feared I might be… troubled again by some 'insect.'" He emphasized the word insect with deliberate weight.
Ai Miao felt his ears begin to burn. He focused on the board, noticing that Gu Lian's eagerness to attack had left a flank exposed. He didn't respond. Instead, his white stone landed with a crisp tap on a critical point.
"Your Majesty—your heart is unsettled." Ai Miao looked up. For a fleeting moment, the calm surface of his gaze was pierced by a flash of brilliance—so quick it could've been imagined. "This move is called drawing fire from beneath the cauldron."
Gu Lian blinked, then leaned in to examine the board. His once-dominant dragon, now cornered—its rear exposed, its fate sealed.
He paused, then chuckled, tossing his black stone back into the bowl.
"I concede." He admitted defeat without hesitation, but his gaze burned as it met Ai Miao's. "Your skill has improved. But your talent for striking the heart—that's truly masterful."
Ai Miao lowered his eyes, the smile in them quickly hidden. "Your Majesty is gracious. It is Your Majesty's vast heart that allows for… occasional lapses."
His words carried double meaning— The game, yes. But also that night. You allowed me to draw close. You gave me that moment of 'lapse.'
Gu Lian understood perfectly. He rose and walked to Ai Miao's side, not looking at him, but gazing out at the clear autumn sky.
"The air is crisp. Few insects this time of year." He spoke as if to himself. Then his voice dropped, low and clear:
"But if it were that butterfly… I wouldn't mind if it came often."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked toward the desk piled with memorials, as if he'd merely commented on the weather.
Ai Miao remained seated at the chessboard, staring at the game that had turned in his favor. Then he looked toward Gu Lian's profile, bathed in sunlight, focused on his work.
His chest felt full—warm to the point of burning.
He lifted a hand, fingers brushing his lips. There, too, seemed to carry the warmth of sunlight.
Some secrets need no words.In the moment their eyes met, in the inches of the chessboard, they had already spoken a thousand times.