Two decades passed, and the kingdom of Huǒyuán beamed above the neighbouring kingdoms. The border stood strong; the crown prince had just returned from his cultivation and martial training.
Crown Prince Tiān Jùn stands before Sì Tiān Temple.
He just completed the monarchy rite with the queen present.
He felt exhausted and left with his general.
Whenever he came to the temple, his steps drifted inevitably toward the water's edge.
Prince Tiān Jùn's chariot rolled to a gentle halt along the winding coastal road. He stood beside it, his eyes drawn to the horizon, and then to the figure that broke it.
A lone figure sat at the water's edge.
She was small against the vastness of the sea, seated where the tide crept close enough to wet her toes. She did not flinch when the water reached her, nor did she retreat when it withdrew.
Tiān Jùn squinted, curiosity stirring in his chest.
"Who is she?" he asked quietly.
His general leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, that's Mò Lián. Lord Chen's only child. Locals say she was born under ill fortune—her mother died bringing her into the world. Her father trades in the southern provinces. She lives with her grandparents now. Should I do more research?"
Intrigue flickered in Tiān Jùn's sharp gaze.
"I'll be back," he said.
Before he could object, the prince dismounted, already moving, his steps light as he descended toward the shore.
"There's a royal visitor," she added. "If they find you again, the punishment will be worse."
The words struck deeper than any blow; she remembered Yù Xuān's words.
Yù Xuān had been scolding her, and it was too much for her to accept.
She sat.
Knees drawn to her chest, she stared at the endless water; the wind tugging at her hair.
"Father," she whispered. "I miss you."
The waves answered only with indifference.
Mò Lián didn't move. She remained seated; her gaze locked on the shimmering sea. She noticed the silent approach.
Footsteps approached — measured, unhurried. Not the shuffle of villagers.
"I knew you'd find me here," she mumbled, not turning. "One day."
She thought it was her father.
After all, the annual festival is just a few months away, she thought.
Her hope rose unbidden.
"I'll come back later," she added, her voice quieter.
The footsteps did not stop.
She let out a sigh, defeated.
Brushing damp sand from her hanfu as she straightened.
She turned.
"All right, Fa—"
Their gaze met.
She blinked in disbelief.
"This is not my father." She blinked, scanning the figure from head to toe.
He looked unreal. And that's how the rumor said the royal looks.
Unearthly beautiful.
"Are you… royal?" She murmured, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Dizziness swept over her, sudden and disorienting.
She wobbled.
Her knees buckled.
Tiān Jùn appeared next to her. He caught her steady in his arms before she fell.
"Young lass," he said, his voice calm, grounding.
Her breath skipped.
Who are you?
She pulled back at once, flustered, bowing hastily.
She's bold. He smirked.
"Lián," he called.
She froze.
"You know my name?" She asked, pointing faintly at herself.
"Hard not to," he replied lightly. "Aren't you famous around here?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Did someone send you?"
Grandma, please don't say you sent this person to get me home; I don't want to go home yet. Her instinct screamed.
"My name is Tiān Jùn," he said, reading her thought. "And no. No one sent me."
She studied him for a long moment. Suspicion flickered across her face, then softened.
"…Good," she muttered. "Then you're not here to watch me."
He laughed softly. "Are you afraid?"
She surprised herself by smiling back. She folded her arms, looking at him.
"I know everyone on this island. Who are you?" She pouted her lip.
"I'm from the capital," he said with a teasing smirk. "Why were you sitting out here alone?"
She sighed. "That's none of your business. I'll do my research."
The water crept forward.
He sat, taking a deep breath.
"Join me," he said, looking up at her.
They sat together; their conversation was random talk.
He never mentioned who he was.
When the sun dipped low, staining the sea with gold, he walked her home.
The seaside was both their favourite place; they always coincidentally met, and their friendship became stronger.
The monarch's rite week was to an end; the royal family's departure was here.
At the throne room…
The evening breeze swayed as royal soldiers marched past the palace.
Queen Yù Yuè smiled, releasing her power slightly.
"Thank you, Your Holiness," she said. "I'll do my best to convince His Highness."
The high priest spoke calmly before dissolving in the air. "Don't forget — the spell scroll is the only way."
Queen Yù Yuè sat on her throne with her son at her right and the military general at her left.
"How was your meeting with the island chief?" She rose from her seat.
Her majestic royal robe swept the marbled floor.
"It went well, Your Highness."
He had been waiting for the priest to leave.
" I have something to attend to before we leave." Without waiting, he disappeared.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Yán Lǐng!"
The general stood up, bowing. "Your Highness."
"My son has changed. Why?"
Her son never liked attending functions, so how does he have something to attend?
She turned to him, her gaze filled with nothing but questions.
He hesitated. "His Majesty... noticed a young maid."
The Queen's voice was icy. "Do I need to remind you of your task?"
He swallowed hard and led her to the shoreline.
They appeared at the great sea. Queen Yù Yuè grew tired of waiting for her son; she disappeared, hissing.
The shore stretched far west; its soil was covered with footprints of different sizes.
It was late evening; children and parents returned home. It was dead slight.
Mò Lián sat in silence; the sea waves lapped softly before her.
It's been two weeks already, and she hasn't heard from Yù Xuān.
She sighed, looking at the water.
"It's boring out here," she mumbled, standing up.
"Pray, pray, pray. Every day incense." She dusted her palm, turning to leave.
A figure was standing there. She strained her gaze, but the figure approached.
"Old woman, you must be blind now." The person approached, raising sand from the ground.
She adjusted.
"Jùn?" She knew that height.
He threw the sand at her, laughing.
"Old woman!" he laughed out, scooping the sand again.
"You… Stop… Jùn!" she ran.
He chased after her, throwing sand on her.
"Aren't you smart?" He kept throwing sand at her.
"I was only pitying your expensive dress." She spun, beaming at her evil thought, and they collided.
She lost balance; he caught her in his arms, not at her waist, but under her thighs, and lifting her gently, his hand cradled the curve of her ass with unconscious boldness.
She pulled out, but her mind was still on ruining his attire.
"How about this?" She quickly scooped a huge amount of moist soil and plastered it on his face.
She burst into laughter, running to the sea.
"Run as you can." He scooped the wet soil and chased after her.
They played like children.
"You started it!" She splashed water on him.
"You are more dangerous than I expected." He laughed, dodging the splash.
"That's why I'm popular." She laughed, using her two palms to splash the water.
When the sun kissed the sea, they sat beside each other, drenched in water. She rested her head on his broad shoulder.
"You're not telling me something, Jùn," she said with a pout.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he whispered.
She pulled away. Looking at him.
"I'm returning to the capital."
Her silence said everything.
"Will you miss me?" he teased. "Hmm? Why does your face look like that now?"
She stood to leave, but he caught her wrist, pulling her from moving.
"So I'll be lonely again..." she murmured, her voice breaking.
"You are not," he whispered, pulling her into a fierce embrace.
High above the shore, invisible. Queen Yù Yuè froze. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.
"Then don't forget me," she whispered. "We are friends."
He closed his eyes, the weight of the moment settling deep in his chest. "I won't."
He felt tears on his neck, and he patted her hair.
He felt her aching heart. It was the first time he did, and he wondered how lonely she must have been.
She didn't release from his embrace.
At dawn, the royal procession began.
Tiān Jùn did not look back.
He dissolved in the air as his masked face warned out.
He said nothing about his encounter, but Mò Lián's absence felt heavier than his sword.
The warmth of the sea was gone, replaced by monarch authority and power.
He appeared at the king's hall as the summons awaited.
King Tiān Lóngxuān stood alone before the throne, golden light flickering at his feet.
The air was filled with toxic smoke, and the candlelight flickered until it went out.