—
Ling Xi tried to lift his arm but it felt like lead.
His breathing was shallow, every inhale slicing through his chest.
His fingers trembled when he tried to grip the sword again.
The cold was worse now—biting through his torn cloak, crawling under his skin.
Then he heard it.
Soft steps.
—
His eyes shifted toward the sound, vision swimming in and out of focus.
Through the mist, a faint glow shimmered—warm at first glance, then strangely cold.
A figure appeared.
He blinked hard, but the outline didn't vanish.
A girl—at least, she looked like one.
Silver hair catching the dim light, a pale dress brushing lightly against the frost-covered grass.
The remaining men turned sharply, blades up.
None of them spoke.
They only stared.
—
Ling Xi frowned glaring at her, jaw tightening.
Who would walk into this mess now?
Didn't she see the blood on the ground?
Didn't she feel the killing intent hanging in the air?
She kept walking.
Unhurried.
—
The men lowered their weapons slightly, whispering something he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.
Their voices blurred—mocking tones, laughter—he couldn't tell.
One of them reached toward her.
The next second—something cracked.
A sound sharp as ice breaking.
The man screamed, falling to his knees, clutching his wrist.
Ling Xi blinked, struggling to focus.
The mist around her had changed.
It was brighter now, whiter.
Moving like it was alive.
The other two shouted—he couldn't make out the words—and raised their swords again.
Then came the cold.
It rolled through the clearing in a single wave, heavy enough to steal the air from his lungs.
Frost spread fast across the ground, crawling up boots and blades—
— — —
By the lake, Ling Xi clutched his head.
What happened after that?
— — —
Pain flared again through his chest.
The world tilted slightly.
She pressed her hand firmer against his ribs.
"You're hurt," she said quietly. "your energy center… it's been hit… stay still."
He wanted to argue.
To tell her he didn't need her help.
But the moment he opened his mouth—
The last flicker of energy inside him surged, clashing with the cold around her.
A blinding pain split through him.
He exhaled sharply—
—
and everything dimmed.
The ground swayed under him, his sword slipping from his grip.
The last thing he saw was her face—
those pale eyes, shimmering faintly.
Then darkness.
— — —
What else happened?
What was this place?
"Where…?" he whispered, voice hoarse, barely audible.
— — —
He then remembers waking up.
— — —
The ceiling above was pale wood, bathed in dim light slipping through latticed windows.
His ribs ached; every breath made him wince.
The silk of his robes stuck to him, damp with sweat and lingering blood.
He tried to sit—but the effort made him sway.
The room spun.
Where…?
—
His mind raced, alert and tense.
He pushed himself upright, ignoring the tremble in his limbs.
The house was silent.
No sounds but faint rustling of wind through open windows.
He rose slowly, muscles complaining with every movement.
Cautiously, he made his way to the doorway.
—
The air smelled faintly of water and pine.
Outside, the sun had climbed higher, diffused through mist and treetops, casting a golden haze over everything.
A sound reached his ears—gentle, rhythmic, water moving over stone.
Instinctively, he followed it, stepping lightly, alert, senses sharp despite weakness.
—
And then he saw it: the lake.
Golden sunlight glimmered on its surface, turning ripples into molten threads.
Silver stones dotted the shoreline, glowing faintly as if they were fragments of moonlight scattered across the earth.
Everything looked unreal—too perfect, too quiet, too alive.
—
And then—
He saw her— in the lake bathing.
Water lapped gently around her waist.
Her back to him, the sunlight caught the silver strands of her hair, making them sparkle like liquid starlight.
Her skin was smooth, pale, luminous, untouched by shadow or time.
She moved with the ease of someone entirely at peace.
Ling Xi froze, unsure whether to step closer or remain hidden.
—
His pulse quickened.
Breath hitched.
He knew he shouldn't look.
Yet he could not look away.
Her hair fell over her shoulders, water dripping faintly down her back.
The sunlight caught it, and for a heartbeat, Ling Xi felt as though the world had stopped.
—
His chest tightened.
Every nerve screamed both awe and caution.
Who is she?
What is she?
He moved slightly, careful not to make a sound, trying to find a vantage without disturbing her.
The soft splash of water as she shifted, the faint glimmer of mist on her skin, the curve of her shoulders—everything felt dreamlike.
Yet he knew—deep in the pit of his instincts—that this was no dream.
Everything about her—
—
He blinked, taking in the sight before him, and his breath caught.
She turned.
Slowly. Graceful, almost unreal.
The sunlight hit her face, and he froze. Her skin—pale, flawless, glowing like frost under the morning sun.
Her lips… soft, pink, delicate, so full they seemed almost made to be touched.
Her eyes—blue, piercing, shimmering with some strange light, impossible to look away from.
Silver eyelashes flickered like starlight with every blink.
Her eyebrows, the same silvery shade, arched perfectly over them.
—
He felt his chest tighten.
"…Where… am I?" His voice was faint, hoarse, almost lost in the swirl of mist.
Her face went rigid.
Her jaw dropped, eyes wide, and her cheeks flamed crimson.
"You— you— what are you doing!?" she screamed, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself.
—
Ling Xi blinked again, still rooted there, struck dumb by her beauty.
She pointed sharply, her voice cracking.
"Turn around! Now!"
He remained, dazed, his gaze locked on her.
Her face deepened into red, heat crawling up her neck, and she swallowed hard.
"I said turn around!"
Then, before she could add another word, he took one slow, deliberate step toward her.
—
She gasped.
Suddenly, frost thickened instantly.
The water rippled sharply around her, rising in pale mist, curling like smoke.
Everything froze for a heartbeat.
The lake shimmered.
The air thickened.
The frost clung to the grass, the mist hung heavy.
—
He froze.
The frost.
This—
It was too familiar.
—
Thin, pale, crawling across the ground.
Mist curling around it like living fingers.
And then it hit him—the three men.
—
His mind cleared.
He reached for his sword—felt nothing.
His grip hit empty air.
—
Cold swept across his expressionless face. Amber eyes narrowed, scanning.
Every movement alert, cautious, precise.
The frost glimmered underfoot, the mist curling higher narrowing on him.
—
"Where… am I?" His voice was low, cutting through the lingering mist.
The girl merely stared at him, eyes unreadable, calm as a still lake.
Ling Xi's amber gaze sharpened.
He glared, muscles tensing.
—
She tilted her head, a faint pout brushing her lips.
"That's your thank-you for saving you?"
Her voice carried a teasing edge, light but deliberate.
Then, more firmly, almost commanding: "Turn around."
The frost and mist dissolved like smoke, retreating into the air.
Ling Xi obeyed, slow, deliberate, amber eyes still fixed on her.
She moved gracefully, draping herself with a silk towel, the pale fabric brushing over her shoulders.
"You're at my home," she said softly, deliberately, eyes flicking toward him. "I saved you… in case you forgot."
—
Ling Xi's eyes swept over the place, curiosity prickling at every nerve.
The forest stretched on beyond, mist drifting like slow-moving breath.
It curled around tall cedar trees and ancient bamboo, softening the edges of their trunks until they looked like shadows drawn in silver.
Shafts of sunlight broke through in golden ribbons, glimmering over dew-drenched leaves, making the forest look alive, almost sentient.
—
And there it was—the waterfall.
From high above, water tumbled down in a relentless sheet, the roar softened by distance, echoing like a whisper that never stopped.
Beside it, a small house stood—white wood, pale stone, roof tiles carved in gentle curves.
The garden framed it like a painting: rows of blooming peonies and lilies, narrow stone paths weaving through them, cherry trees leaning lazily toward the lake, petals brushing the water.
Birdsong floated softly between the trees.
A soft breeze stirred the chimes hanging by the doorway, silver threads singing faintly, mingling with the distant roar of the waterfall.
—
But Ling Xi's gaze flicked back to the forest.
A shiver crawled along his spine. Something was… off.
He turned slowly, deliberately, and caught sight of her.
She was tying her silver hair up, fingers nimble, the silk towel draped loosely over her shoulders.
Then she bent to start washing her clothes by the lake.
The movement was natural, unstudied, yet every motion drew his eyes, made his pulse quicken.
Ling Xi swallowed. "What… is this place?" His voice was rough, cautious, wary.
She glanced at him, a faint smile curving her lips.
"Imperial Lake."
Her words hit him like a hammer.
He froze, amber eyes widening, disbelief etched in every line of his face.
Three slow steps backward, heart racing, mind struggling to grasp it.
"What…?"
—