That night, Xiao moved quickly through the halls of the palace. She kept her head low, pulling the hood of her cloak lower, ensuring her face remained hidden. The heavy silence of the late hour worked in her favor, but she knew better than to let her guard down. She avoided open spaces, her every step light and careful as she slipped through the less-traveled corridors.
She pressed herself against the cold stone wall, waiting for the right moment. When the night breeze stirred the leaves outside, masking the faint rustle of her movements, she seized the chance. In one fluid motion, she disappeared through a hidden opening in the palace wall.
The city beyond was asleep, but Xiao did not slow her pace. She had received her father's letter earlier that day, brief but clear, he wanted to see her, despite her punishment, despite the risks. If Mr. Sha was willing to defy the Emperor's will, then what he sought from her was no small matter.
At last, she reached her destination, a grand but unwelcoming residence, much like the man who ruled it. Xiao strode through the courtyard, past the unmoving figures of loyal guards who knew better than to question her arrival.
Wasting no time, she crossed the courtyard and made her way to his study. Light shone behind the paper screens of her father's study, casting tall shadows across the wooden floor.
She slid the door open and stepped inside. "Father, you summoned me?"
The scratch of a writing brush stopped mid-stroke. Mr. Sha, seated before an array of documents, barely lifted his eyes. The dim glow of the lanterns accentuated the deep lines on his face, a face that held no warmth, whatsoever.
"Have you discovered anything of use regarding the young girl?" he asked.
Xiao lowered herself to her knees before him, pressing her hands to the floor. "Unfortunately, no, Father."
A brief silence followed. Mr. Sha set his brush down, his fingers resting lightly on the parchment before him. His expression didn't change, but there was a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes.
"In all her time under your roof, did you uncover anything? A scroll, perhaps?"
Xiao's posture stiffened. A scroll? Why would he ask that? Her mind raced as she searched for an answer. What did he know that she did not?
Xiao hesitated before answering. "In truth, Father, during my time with Mei, I never saw her with any scrolls."
Mr. Sha's expression darkened. His fingers curled into a fist, and his jaw tightened with frustration. "Then what have you been doing all this time?"
"Chasing after the Second Prince instead of carrying out the task I entrusted to you?"
Xiao lowered her head in shame.
Mr. Sha leaned forward with cold and unforgiving eyes. "You seem to have forgotten whose roof you were raised under, When her family was wiped out, who took you in? Who gave you shelter when you had nothing?" His voice dropped, "And yet, when I ask for one simple task, you fail me."
"I think you need a reminder of where your loyalty should lie."
Xiao swallowed hard, desperate to appease him, she spoke quickly. "There is a festival happening at shanguang village soon."
Mr. Sha raised an eyebrow. "Go on," he urged.
Xiao took a deep breath. "Even though she lives under my roof, she keeps her guard up. But with her away, I'll have the perfect chance to search for the scroll." She met her father's cold gaze. "I'll redouble my efforts until I find it."
Mr. Sha sat in silence thinking. Xiao's hands tightened into fists in her lap as she waited for his verdict, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
Then, to her relief, he smiled, a rare sight, one she hadn't seen. "This could be the breakthrough we need," he mused. "Report back the moment she leaves for the festival."
Xiao exhaled softly, bowing her head. "I won't fail you again, Father."
She rose to leave, but his voice stopped her at the door.
"Searching her room now would be reckless," he warned. "If you're caught, we lose everything." He leaned forward with his eyes gleaming with calculation. "Instead, you will accompany her to the festival."
Xiao's body tensed. "But, Father, the Emperor—"
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Watch her closely. Learn who she meets, what she says, where she goes. And above all, do not arouse suspicion."
Xiao bit her lip but knew there was no arguing. Lowering her head, she bowed deeply. "Yes, Father."
Silently, she turned and left in deep contemplation. The festival was no longer just a celebration, it was now a mission. And failure was not an option.
.....
The soft shuffle of feet broke the silence, like someone moving carefully in the dark, one sneaking where they shouldn't be. The sound put Cheng on alert. His fingers curled slightly as he sat up in bed.
Slowly, he rose, his eyes watching the door closely. Without making a sound, he stepped toward the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword resting there. He slid it free and moved toward the door, careful not to make a sound.
The quiet footsteps continued outside, moving toward the side of the palace wall. Cheng followed the sound, pressing himself into the dark as he neared the corner. A cloaked figure stood partially hidden behind the stone wall, their form blending into the night.
Swiftly, Cheng grabbed the figure and spun them around, slamming them against the cold wall. His sword was at their throat in an instant.
The figure let out a quick breath and spoke hastily. "It's me.. it's me."
Cheng froze. He recognized that voice.
With an exasperated sigh, he loosened his grip, but only slightly. "Why in the world are you sneaking around like this?"
The figure chuckled softly and pulled back the hood of the cloak. Xuan's face emerged, grinning mischievously. "I was trying to avoid being seen,"
Cheng gave him a sharp look before stepping back, lowering his sword. Without another word, he turned and walked back toward his chambers, Xuan following closely behind.
Once inside, Cheng placed his sword on the bed and exhaled, shaking his head.
Xuan stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His brother sat by a small wooden table, a candle shone beside him. Scrolls and books were stacked high, ink staining his fingertips.
He pulled off the cloak and tossed it over a nearby chair, his gaze drifting over the scattered scrolls on the floor.
"Even in a time like this," he said, crossing his arms, "you still found a way to bring your duties with you."
Cheng glanced at the mess of records and unfinished writings. "It's better than doing nothing," he replied.
Xuan smirked. "You really don't know how to take a break, do you?"
"How have you been coping?" he settled into a chair across from him.
Cheng exhaled, leaning back slightly. "I've had time to complete projects I couldn't before," he said. "Reading, writing... even finishing the records Father assigned me moons ago."
Xuan chuckled. "So you're using exile as study time?"
Cheng smirked. "It's better than wasting away in boredom."
Xuan rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "Did you hear? There is a Festival happening at Shanguang Village in two nights. It'll be lively... music, food, performances. You should come with me. Get some fresh air for once."
Cheng shook his head, "You forget I'm still being punished."
Xuan waved a dismissive hand. "Since when did a little punishment ever stop us? We can sneak out, like old times. A few hours, no one would even notice."
Cheng's fingers traced the rim of his tea cup. The idea was tempting. It had been too long since he had last seen the outside world without guards shadowing his every move.
"I appreciate the thought," he said at last, "but I can't. I fear I am not in a festive mood."
Xuan exhaled lightly. "You're letting yourself waste away in here."
"Not everything is about fun," Cheng replied calmly.
Xuan studied him for a moment before leaning back in his chair with a resigned sigh. "Fine. I tried anyway."
.....
The next day, Mei entered the Ninth Palace, her bag slung over one shoulder, sweat glistening on her brow.
Cheng, who had been walking side to side and engaged in a conversation with Yìzé, turned at the sound and caught sight of her. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in her flushed face. "Why are you sweating so much?"
Mei exhaled and dropped the bag onto the nearest table. "Why do you never leave your room?" she countered.
Cheng's lips curved slightly as he placed his hands behind his back, tilting his head while he regarded her. "It's just like you to answer a question with another question."
Ignoring him, Mei opened the bag, revealing an assortment of sweets, meat chops, and two bottles of báijiǔ. "I brought these for us," she declared.
Cheng reached for a piece, but she smacked his hand away. "Not here. We're going outside,"
Cheng wanted to argue, but before he could, Mei grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the courtyard, the bag already back on her shoulder. Yìzé, who had been silently observing the exchange, smirked and trailed after them.
Once they reached the courtyard, Mei swung the bag off her shoulder and set it onto a stone table. "Sit," she ordered.
Cheng arched a brow. "You can't tell me what to do."
Mei exhaled sharply in frustration, then, without thinking, stepped onto the chair beside him. The move caught him off guard, and she leaned in slightly, towering over him in an act of defiance. "Sit," she repeated, her tone softer but no less commanding.
Cheng merely folded his arms, watching her.
Mei's hands shot out, gripping the edges of his robe near his neck. She pulled him closer, their faces now inches apart, her breath warm against his skin.
Cheng instinctively held his breath.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Cheng stared at her, acutely aware of the way their lips almost touched. His heartbeat was erratic, his thoughts tangled. Then, with a sharp inhale, he took a step back and lowered himself onto the seat, breaking the tension.
Satisfied, Mei hopped off the chair and moved behind him, stretching as she reached for the sweets. The rustling sound of fabric brushed against his ear, and Cheng stiffened at her sudden closeness. He could feel her warmth against his neck, the soft whisper of her breath against his skin.
His fingers curled slightly on his knees.
He turned slightly, just enough to steal a glance at her. The curve of her lips as she focused on the bag, the stray strands of hair that had slipped free from her ponytail, everything about her at that moment was distracting.
"Which one do you want?" She spoke.
Cheng blinked. He hadn't even heard her the first time, he was too caught up in the moment. Mei turned to face him fully, their eyes locking.
"Cheng."
Her voice snapped him out of his trance. He quickly looked away, pretending to study the assortment of treats. "This one," he murmured, picking one at random.
Mei settled into a seat beside him. She uncorked the bottle of báijiǔ and took a deep sip.
Cheng's gaze followed the bottle as it met her lips, the smooth curve of her throat as she swallowed. A single drop of the drink escaped, tracing a slow path from the corner of her mouth, down the line of her neck... lower...till it disappeared into the folds of her robe.
His throat went dry.
Yìzé, seemingly aware of the charged atmosphere, cleared his throat. "I hear there is a Festival at Shanguang Village tomorrow."
Mei, still sipping her drink, turned her attention to him. "Oh?"
Cheng exhaled softly, shaking off the lingering heat in his chest. But as he turned back to Mei, her lips glistening from the báijiǔ, he knew one thing for certain... she was going to be the death of him.
Mei leaned back against the chair, swirling the bottle of báijiǔ in her hand as a playful smile danced on her lips. "How fortunate," she mused. "A friend had invited me to the festival. I told him I would go with him."
Cheng, who had just taken a bite of his sweet, paused mid-chew. His grip on the delicate pastry tightened slightly as his gaze snapped to her. "A friend?"
Mei nodded, completely unfazed. "Yes. He asked me some time ago, and I agreed."
Yìzé, unaware of the sudden tension building beside him, simply nodded politely. "That is great, Lady Meiying."
Cheng, however, slammed his hand down with a little more force than necessary. "Yìzé and I will go as well."
Mei blinked at him, surprised. Yìzé, who had just taken a sip of báijiǔ, nearly choked. "We.. we are?" He turned to Cheng equally caught off guard.
Cheng, now too deep to retreat, straightened his posture. "I meant to tell you earlier. It must have slipped my mind."
Mei's face lit up with excitement. "That is perfect!" she exclaimed. "The festival will be even more fun with all of us there."
Yìzé forced a smile, but he knew Cheng too well. This wasn't about the festival. This wasn't about wanting to take a break from the palace.
It was clearly about Mei.
He watched Cheng, who was now calmly reaching for another sweet, yize smiled when he looked his way but within, he felt troubled. Cheng had let his emotions decide for him, and that was never a good thing.