Suddenly, a sensation crept up their spines.
Who's at the window?
They both turned toward the window.
But no one's there.
Whatever or whoever had been watching was gone, leaving behind only a chill.
The night was gloomy for Mò Lián as her best friend soon returned home.
The morning sun fell on the capital, at the Palace.
Prince Tiān Jùn stood before his window, watching the sky till it bled into night, when Yán Lǐng entered with quiet urgency.
"My lord," Yán Lǐng said, "I just arrived a few moments ago. Mò Lián has been unwell... but word is, she's recovering."
What he didn't know was that Mò Lián was leaving with her father.
Before Tiān Jùn could reply, the chamber doors opened, and Queen Yù Yuè entered, her presence commanding yet gentle.
Tiān Jùn bowed slightly, respectfully.
"Mother, you're here."
She smiled and settled beside him. "Come, sit with me. You're... different lately. Calmer. Is there something you're not telling me?"
She was fishing for something she already suspected.
Tiān Jùn hesitated, then smiled faintly, his cheeks warming.
"Mum... I've wanted to tell you this for a while now."
"Tell me, my son," she urged, her eyes glowing.
"The dreams," he mumbled. "They're gone."
Her expression lit up like dawn. "Truly?!"
Without another word, she pulled him into a tight embrace, joy radiating from her soul.
Prince Tiān Jùn made preparations for a journey he knew must be made alone. He left quietly, his heart full of both hope and urgency, heading toward the west.
He had arrived at the Sì Tiān Temple.
The shoreline where they used to meet was empty, the waves gently licking the sand. She wasn't there.
But he didn't stop.
He wandered the village, eyes scanning every corner of the market square. That's when he sensed it — someone trailing him.
Slowing his horse, he dismounted swiftly and caught the wrist of the figure behind him.
A girl.
Yù Xuān.
She struggled. "Let go of me! What do you think you're doing?!"
His voice was low, steady. "Don't you want to know where I'm going?"
He tugged her forward gently. "Then come with me."
Breathless and stunned, she blurted, "I'm... Mò Lián's friend."
He paused; then finally freed her wrist.
They walked in silence for a while, the tension between them growing heavier.
Then she stopped, arms folded, eyes locked on him.
"Yep... you're exactly her type," she declared.
She marched ahead confidently.
Tiān Jùn caught up, amused. "And how do you know me?"
She glanced back. "I know everything about Mò Lián. She told me, so I had to prepare."
"Then tell me."
She stopped again, smirking. "Nothing in this world comes for free."
She opened her palm.
Without blinking, he placed two silver coins in her hand.
"Speak."
With a sly grin, she said, "Mò Lián and I? We've been inseparable since childhood. She may act wild, but her heart is soft, especially for the people she loves."
He stepped closer, voice lowered. "Where is she now?"
She raised her palm again, wordlessly.
Rolling his eyes with a faint chuckle, he added another coin.
She left with her father for the Southern Province. They're near the coastal market district."
She handed him a folded parchment. "Her home and the market address. And this." She unfurled a cloth map. "Use this. It'll get you there."
Tiān Jùn took both, his eyes unreadable but filled with purpose.
Yù Xuān stared at him. "Whatever you're planning... don't mess it up."
He left.
Under the watchful moon, Tiān Jùn rode south, wind tugging at his robes, his pulse echoing the gallop of his horse. He didn't have time to waste.
Along the way, he encountered imperial soldiers stationed at a forest outpost. After resting briefly, he sent word through them to Yán Lǐng, instructing his guard to remain discreet.
By dawn, he was already galloping again.
But news of his sudden departure had already reached the palace.
In the Throne Room...
King Tiān Lóngxuān sat tall on his throne, the golden sunlight casting long shadows across the marble floor.
He summoned his queen.
Yù Yuè entered gracefully, her robes whispering like silk. She bowed with a serene smile. "You summoned me, my lord?"
He nodded. "Yù Yuè... how have you been holding up? Politics never rest."
He waved his hand; the guards and servants quietly exited.
She approached him.
"My king, no matter how busy the world becomes... I'll always come when you call."
A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Come here."
She eased onto his thigh, his arms circling her waist. His touch lingered, fingers grazing the curve of her hip.
"Your beauty," he murmured, voice thick with desire, "is becoming more dangerous by the day."
Blushing, she whispered, "I'm all yours, my king."
But her tone shifted softly. "My lord, about our son..."
He silenced her with a kiss—deep, deliberate.
She gasped, trying again. "Our son has—"
Another kiss.
A playful gasp escaped as his hand delivered a light spank, her skin tingling.
"I know," he said darkly, amusement dancing in his gaze.
Then, in one swift motion, he lifted her in his arms, staring deeply into her eyes.
"He's found his princess," she whispered breathlessly.
"Let him have his love," the king replied. "But for now—"
His lips met hers again, possessively and warmly. "Focus on your king."
Mid-afternoon light bathed the southern hills in soft gold as Prince Tiān Jùn arrived at Lord Chen's countryside estate.
The sun filtered through fig trees and stone walls, casting long shadows as he dismounted his horse, his boots touching the earth with quiet grace.
A gentle breeze whispered through the wooden gate before him.
He stepped forward and knocked politely.
A moment passed. Then, the gate creaked open just enough for a pair of sharp, curious eyes to peer through. An old woman squinted at him, her gaze sweeping over his face and finely embroidered robes.
"Hmm," she murmured, before opening the gate wider. "Yes? Who are you looking for?"
Tiān Jùn bowed respectfully, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Good day, ma'am. My name is Tiān Jùn," he mumbled.
"I'm a friend of Mò Lián... I've come a long way to see her. Is this her home?"
For a brief second, her brows lifted in surprise, then her entire face softened with an amused light.
"A friend of Mò Lián's, you say?" She chuckled, her voice as bright as spring water. "Hah! That girl never mentioned having such a handsome visitor!"
She waved him in with a teasing grin. "Come in, come in. Leave your horse there; there's hay by the fence."
He dipped his head in gratitude, leading his steed to the shaded side of the gate where a bundle of hay rested, golden and dry. Once the reins were secure, he turned and followed the woman inside.
Her steps were slow, her back slightly hunched, but her spirit was anything but weary. As they walked through the stone pathway, winding toward the main house, she filled the silence with stories, warm, whimsical tales of Mò Lián's childhood antics, her untamed will, and her endless determination.
"You know," the woman said, tapping the wooden cane in her hand, "when she was ten, she once climbed the rooftop just to prove she wasn't afraid of heights. Scared us all half to death! That girl's never had an ounce of fear in her bones."
A fond smile touched Tiān Jùn's lips, a quiet warmth blooming in his chest as he imagined her that way, wild, fearless, and radiant.
Eventually, they arrived at a quiet corner of the house. The old woman pushed open a wooden door, its hinges creaking slightly.
"Here we are," she said, stepping aside. "You can rest here. When dinner's ready, I'll come get you."
She gave him a playful wink.
He smiled, genuinely and gratefully. "Thank you, Granny."
She turned, pretending to be offended, huffing theatrically.
"Granny? I'm not old. I don't look old, I don't feel old," she declared.
"I clean, I wash, I cook—and I still chase chickens faster than anyone in this house! Honestly, I'm as fresh as morning tofu!"
Her words echoed down the hallway as she shuffled off, muttering something about "youth these days" and their terrible eyesight.
Tiān Jùn stood in the doorway for a moment longer, laughter caught in his throat. He stepped inside the room, the scent of sandalwood and aged wood calming his senses.
He breathed in deeply.