The Pear Blossom Youth

After safely escorting Ning Yunyao back to the palace, Xuan Yue nonchalantly picked up the teacup resting on the table, tilting her head back to enjoy a hearty drink directly from the teapot. 

On the other side, behind the heavy beaded curtain, Ning Yunyao was removing her attire from the day's outing and donning her customary bright palace garb, becoming increasingly majestic and regal, radiating an air of untouchable elegance. 

Having savored her tea, Xuan Yue picked up a pastry from the table, popping it into her mouth and licking the crumbs from her lips in satisfaction. Sated and content, she decided it was the perfect time to depart as the Yulin Guards changed shifts. 

She wiped her mouth and stood, only to see the beaded curtain suddenly swept aside, the beads clinking together with a clear, crisp sound. 

"Are you leaving already?" 

Her voice was cool and noble, a smile gracing her lips, balanced perfectly; too much would be excessive, too little would render her distant, making others feel small and inferior. Against the backdrop of the opulent palace, one could not help but think that such a woman was destined to thrive within these ornate walls. 

Xuan Yue turned, gazing at the woman radiating lunar-like brilliance. She clapped her hands, nodded with a smile, and gestured towards the outside sky. "Does the princess wish to share her phoenix couch with me?" 

The crystal-like beaded curtain, illuminated by the soft light, cast a delicate yellowish hue that highlighted Ning Yunyao's fingers, which glimmered like jade. Her slender fingers fidgeted momentarily before she finally lowered the curtain and stepped out, taking a seat beside Xuan Yue's former position. 

Logically, after resting against the wall for an entire afternoon, she should have returned feeling parched with jealousy. Yet the first thing she did upon her return was change out of her attire. She licked her slightly dry lips but refrained from touching the pot of water. 

Xuan Yue smirked, reminiscing about the first time she encountered Lan Yixuan, a man with a serious aversion to dirt who nonetheless tolerated her antics with a smile. 

With her arms crossed and a mischievous glint in her eyes, Xuan Yue's gaze roamed over Ning Yunyao, playful yet devoid of malice, causing Ning Yunyao's heart to flutter, compelling her to hide her hands beneath the table. 

Although she had perched on the wall, separated by a considerable distance, she had failed to catch every word spoken. Still, after the patrolling Yulin Guards and the other noblemen departed, the scene had grown clearer to her. 

Seated at the table, nestled between Xuanyuan Hao and Lan Yixuan, opposite Jun Pinyu, every gesture and smile felt familiar; she was well acquainted with those three men, as well as Bai Zhanfeng, the eldest son of the Bai family from Chu. 

She studied Xuan Yue, whose simple attire and unadorned visage gave her a delicate, exquisite appearance. As she gazed, her hand instinctively brushed against her own smooth skin, which, while not rivaling the world's fairest beauty, Hua Chuxue, was nonetheless comparable to the woman before her. She was a princess, exalted and untouchable, yet in this moment, she couldn't help but admit—she felt a pang of envy. 

Living in the martial world, enjoying freedom, she had made acquaintances who were truly remarkable individuals; each treated her well. Even those whose behaviors were less refined and somewhat crass were impossible to dislike. Even now, despite her jealousy, she found it hard to harbor any ill will towards them. 

This woman evoked an indescribable sensation in her, every movement reminiscent of a gentle summer breeze, refreshing and uplifting. 

"Do you know them all?" 

"Them?" Xuan Yue smiled knowingly, understanding who she referred to. Indeed, compared to Lan Yixuan, she felt far less capable. He would never stoop to such inquiries; was she merely seeking validation to ease her own discomfort? Did she not realize that certain questions could unearth buried secrets? 

"You mean Lan Yixuan, Jun Pinyu, and Xuanyuan Hao? Yes, I know them all." 

Bai Zhanfeng too, but the one closest to her was Feng Jiulan. 

Xuan Yue's gaze locked with Ning Yunyao's, standing tall, chin slightly raised, looking down at her with an almost condescending demeanor, her keen eyes narrowing as they scrutinized the situation. 

Ning Yunyao's hands rested on her lap, clutching her skirt tightly, twisting it into a knot. Suddenly, she felt irritable. She was the princess, the one who should hold a lofty position, yet in the presence of this woman, despite her defiant posture and wide-open eyes, she felt diminished. 

Xuan Yue stepped closer, breaking into laughter. 

This woman, regardless of her thoughts or actions, always wore a facade of superiority, much like a peacock that would never concede defeat. 

No one in the world was truly perfect; the absence of flaws simply meant they hadn't yet encountered someone who could expose them. 

"The princess, with her noble lineage, can only be matched by the most exceptional of men." 

Xuan Yue emphasized the word "you," squatting down to catch a clear glimpse of Ning Yunyao's hands as they loosened their grip on the fabric of her dress, releasing and tightening again. "One cannot have both fish and bear's paws; the princess must ask herself what she truly desires, and the answer will become evident." 

That person could be Lan Yixuan, Xuanyuan Hao, or Bai Zhanfeng, or even her brother, but it would never be Jun Pinyu. 

Perhaps she was lamenting why, as a person from the martial world, Jun Pinyu lacked the formidable support that Lan Yixuan possessed. 

Ning Yunyao lifted her gaze, her exquisite phoenix eyes wide open, staring directly at Xuan Yue, unmasked and candid. Through her astonished gaze, it seemed one could peer into the depths of her undiscovered soul. 

Then she rose, making her way to the door, watching the white figure vanish into the night like a fleeting breeze, as if she had begun to grasp something. 

"Princess?" 

Ning Yunyao leaned against the door, her close attendant, Liu Zhu, approached and bowed respectfully. "It's time for dinner." 

Ning Yunyao snapped back to reality, wondering if she could attain what she desired most. 

"Where is Father?" 

"The Emperor is in the Yukun Hall." 

She smiled at her attendant and said, "Let's head to the Yukun Hall; tonight I shall dine with Father." The moonlight was less than favorable that night, with heavy clouds overhead, occasionally revealing a few stars hiding behind the clouds. The night breeze was strong, rustling the tents of street vendors as if rain were imminent. 

Compared to other evenings, the streets were rather deserted. Located in the northern borders, Pansheng was already chilly for October; the wind cut sharply, and passersby bowed their heads, desperate to tuck themselves into their thick garments, while the stalls lining the streets appeared forlorn, with many vendors packing up for the night. 

With the martial arts tournament approaching—a grand event held every decade—the streets and alleys of Pansheng were adorned with bright red lanterns, exuding a festive spirit. The moonlight was hazy, yet the bustling streets remained brightly lit. 

Xuan Yue departed the palace, making her way directly toward Haitang Garden in Tianfu. 

Within Haitang Garden, tranquility reigned, and the rustling of leaves in the wind could be distinctly heard. Xuan Yue navigated through the ranks of Yulin Guards and the martial experts invited by King Zhou Hui, concealing herself within the embrace of a large tree. 

Prince Feng Jiulan of the Feng Kingdom favored solitude, seldom mingling with others residing in Tianfu. This time, he had traveled thousands of miles from the Feng Kingdom, accompanied only by the finest shadow guards, who only revealed themselves in times of danger. 

This location, whether by day or night, was free from patrolling Yulin Guards; even the most skilled individuals would not dare enter Haitang Garden without his permission. 

He had always cherished his solitude, often enduring the incessant chatter of those around him. 

Inside, the room was brightly lit. Shadows cast through the doors clearly revealed the movements of the two within. Xuan Yue quietly observed the slender figure seated on the kang, engrossed in a book, his bony fingers deftly turning the pages. A smile crept across her lips as warmth, enough to melt ice and snow, suffused her bright eyes. 

The gap between the branches wasn't large; crouching in the middle, her legs grew somewhat numb. She shifted positions, resting one hand against the tall tree, her head propped on her palm, her legs swaying leisurely. 

In this manner, she watched his silhouette, feeling as though she were guarding him, filled with happiness and contentment. 

"Your Highness, it is getting late. You should rest early for the sake of your health." 

Pansheng was truly cold. Although it was merely October, the nighttime winds howled, colder than the harshest December in their Feng Kingdom. He didn't mind the chill, but given the prince's frail health and the long journey, he needed proper rest. 

It was not that the prince was averse to mingling with the noble sons of other kingdoms; rather, it was simply that the winds at noon here were biting cold.

"Hmm." 

Feng Jiulan acknowledged softly, setting aside the book in his hands. He rose and approached the window, flinging it open. The chill night air rushed in, invigorating yet causing his teeth to chatter involuntarily.

"Qinghen." 

Yun Qinghen stepped silently behind him, bowing slightly without uttering a word. 

He let out a gentle sigh, subtle and filled with a wistfulness akin to the night breeze, raising his gaze to the moon obscured by clouds. "I wonder how Yue'er is faring now?" 

Yun Qinghen looked up at Feng Jiulan's somewhat slouched back, remaining silent.

Upon awakening, the prince discovered the princess was missing. When he inquired about her absence, the palace servants stammered, none daring to speak the truth. The emperor had informed him that the princess had gone off with a master to learn martial arts, promising she would return in a few years. But how could it be that the princess was training? Such a lie would surely not deceive the prince.

Nearly every evening, he would mention the princess, inquiring of those nearby about his Yue'er, particularly after the onset of winter. His pale face bore an unmistakable mark of concern, perpetually worried that the princess might catch a chill, despite others' attempts to console him.

In his heart, there was only the princess. Over the years, Lady Pingting had done so much for him, yet his thoughts and words were solely of the princess. Even when he awakened from dreams in the dead of night, it was her name that fell from his lips.

When illness struck, leaving him weak and sprawled upon the ground, it was still Yue'er he murmured, as though her name was the very essence sustaining his will to live.

A heartache demands a remedy from the heart. As long as he remained separated from the princess, no matter how diligently the imperial physicians tended to him, it would be futile. If only the princess could appear before him in good health, his affliction would be alleviated significantly.

"How long has it been? Why do you not return to see me?" 

There was no sense of self-reproach, only an abundance of concern.

Xianyue sat in the tree, her heart tightening at the sudden appearance of that familiar figure at the window, her thoughts swirling like a tempest. The soft murmurs of his voice, carried by the night breeze, brushed against her ears, and she bit her lip, overwhelmed by an impulse to weep.

She looked up at her surroundings, watching the tears that had slipped from her eyes fall back into their depths. Sniffling, she gazed at the inky black sky, feeling as if the wind tonight was indeed a touch too fierce.

Retracting her blurred gaze, she focused once more on the boy from her memories. After ten years, he had grown taller, appearing somewhat more slender, like a tall bamboo stalk. Once she gathered all her belongings and returned to the palace, she would certainly chastise those maids and eunuchs. With so many people, how could they not care for her brother properly? And the royal chef—she would take to the kitchen herself, preparing various dishes each day to ensure he was well-fed and plump.

Xianyue wiped her tears haphazardly. Under the lamplight, her face glowed with a sickly pallor, resembling a pear blossom blooming on a branch—pure, pristine, untouched by blemish, entirely overlapping with the image etched in her mind.

Whenever she thought of her brother, she cherished the quiet moments spent in the pear orchard, lying there for an entire day. With her eyes closed, she would reflect on the boy from her memories, whose smile resembled the blossoming pear flowers—innocent, noble, and radiating warmth.

Her fondness for pear blossoms stemmed from that memory of him, with his pear blossom-like smile.

Xianyue shut her eyes, hot tears spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

"Brother, these years, I have fared well. My master has treated me kindly, teaching me martial arts. Now, no one dares to bully me. In the future, I will stand guard beside you; no one shall harm you."

"I miss you every single day. Once this martial arts tournament concludes, I will personally bring the snow toad to see you. I will surely cure your ailment."

Thinking about the imminent reunion with Feng Jiulan, a smile involuntarily blossomed on Xianyue's lips, her tear-drenched eyes sparkling even more brightly.

"Cough, cough." 

Feng Jiulan lightly clenched his fist, bringing it to his lips as he hunched over, breaking into a fit of coughs. Yun Qinghen hurried back into the room, retrieving the cloak draped over the bed and placing it over his shoulders. His face flushed crimson as he bit his lip, suppressing something within.

Feng Jiulan accepted the cloak and wrapped it around himself before closing the window.

He turned back to the room, and Xianyue jumped from the tree, still worried about Feng Jiulan's condition.

In such weather, she pondered whether he could endure it. 

She approached the door, suddenly pulling out a small porcelain vial from her bosom and placing it on the ground. The flames within flickered, and as she turned to glance at the vial, a sense of unease washed over her. She picked it up from the ground and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

Feng Jiulan had just settled at the bedside when a knock echoed through the room. He cast a glance at Yun Qinghen, who turned to face the door and inquired, "Who is it?"

Xianyue peered inside, remaining silent as her hand paused in mid-air, refraining from knocking again. 

"Your Highness, please rest; I shall keep watch outside," Yun Qinghen assured. No sooner had he spoken than another series of knocks resounded from beyond the door. "Go check," he instructed. 

Yun Qinghen nodded, gripping his sword tightly, stepping towards the door. He suddenly flung it open, preparing to draw his weapon. 

Though his movements were swift, they paled in comparison to Xianyue's. The translucent paper covering the door allowed her to observe every action with clarity. As soon as he opened the door, Xianyue launched the small porcelain vial in her hand toward the circular table within, landing it firmly. "Twice a day, one each time," she declared. 

Seated on the bed, Feng Jiulan's slumped posture instantly straightened. He sprang to his feet, disregarding his shoes as he rushed toward the fleeting white figure at the door. However, Yun Qinghen intercepted him. "Your Highness, the wind is strong outside, and you aren't even wearing your shoes." 

Feng Jiulan's gaze fixated on the vanishing silhouette of Xianyue. Whether it was anxiety or exhilaration, his face bore a pallor on one side, while the other flushed a vivid red. He pointed in the direction she had gone, his joy barely contained. "It's Yue'er! It's Yue'er!" 

Yun Qinghen gently tapped the obstructed Feng Jiulan and turned his gaze towards the retreating figure. In that hurried moment, he seemed to catch a glimpse of the vermilion dot between her brows. 

If the prince was this certain, could it truly be the princess? 

"Your Highness, I will pursue the princess at once." 

In a matter of moments, Feng Jiulan had regained his composure from the earlier excitement. He gazed at the towering city walls and shook his head with a smile. "There's no need to pursue her. She has her reasons for not revealing herself; my Yue'er will return to see me one day." 

"I knew you would be here; come back with me." 

As Xianyue exited Haitang Courtyard, her heart sank at the sight of Liu Xinyou, draped in white with silver hair. She inwardly cursed her misfortune; Liu Xinyou had indeed been waiting here. 

This was disastrous; she was no match for her. Casting a glance around, she spotted Lan Yixuan and Bai Zhanfeng nearby in another courtyard, uncertain whether she could seek their aid. Yet, if her identity were to be exposed, what then?