The next morning, Zhen Yu walked to her tent.
When he stopped outside, he realized something—he didn't know what to call her.
He had never asked her name.
He stood there a moment, then cleared his throat awkwardly.
Inside, he heard movement.
The woman stepped out, already prepared, her dark robes swaying lightly in the cold air. Her crimson eyes fixed on him.
"We should leave," Zhen Yu said.
She nodded without a word.
He gestured to his horse.
"The road is long. You should ride."
She hesitated, then climbed onto the horse. Zhen Yu mounted in front, and they began the descent from the mountains.
Hours passed in silence, broken only by hooves striking frozen earth. At last, her hand moved. She signed, simple and clear.
Mei Lian.
Zhen Yu glanced back at her. "Your name?"
She nodded.
He gave a small smile.
"Then I don't need to clear my throat anymore."
For the first time, her crimson eyes softened, though she said nothing.
After days of travel, the walls of the capital finally rose before them. The gates opened, and the people of the city filled the streets.
When Mei Lian entered beside the Duke, silence spread like fire through the crowd.
Whispers began.
"The witch…"
"The Black Lotus…"
"She exists…"
Every eye followed her, wide with fear. Mothers pulled children close. Merchants lowered their heads. No one dared step near.
Mei Lian's face remained calm. Crimson veins glowed faintly beneath her pale skin.
Zhen Yu rode at her side, his voice steady.
"Do not fear them. I walk with you."
But still, the city trembled.