It had been months, but the cold silence between Ling and Ping hadn't thawed. They shared the same palace, but not the same space. Words between them were rare—dry, formal, and forced. Affection had become a distant memory.
That afternoon, the garden was quiet. The wind rustled through the trees as Ping sat under the blossom tree, fingers tracing the edges of a book she wasn't reading. Her thoughts were far from the pages. Her eyes, duller now than they used to be, stared into the past more than the present.
Then, the palace gates creaked open.
She turned her head slowly.
A tall man stepped through, flanked by guards. His walk was confident, graceful. His eyes scanned the garden until they landed on her—and then lit up.
"Feng?" Ping whispered in disbelief.
He smiled, that same boyish grin she hadn't seen in years.
"Ping."
She shot to her feet before she could stop herself. Her book fell to the ground as she ran toward him. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him. He held her back, just as tight.
It was like being home again.
"You... what are you doing here?" she asked, stepping back but still holding his hand.
"I'm here on royal invitation," Feng said with a smirk. "Business with Mora."
He had changed. Older, taller, more refined—but still Feng. The same boy who used to sneak sweets with her, who once promised to marry her before fate took him away.
"And you," he added softly, "You're still as beautiful as I remember."
She blushed but didn't let go of his hand.
They turned to walk toward the palace just as another figure stepped out from the entrance.
Ling.
His eyes flicked immediately to where their hands were joined.
Ping's heart sank.
Ling's face remained unreadable, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him.
"So," Ling said, voice calm but cold, "You're the one Mora's council sent."
Feng bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Ping didn't move. She stood between them, the air heavy with everything unsaid.
Ling turned to the maid nearby. "Show the prince to his guest chambers."
Without another word, he turned and walked back into the palace.
Ping let go of Feng's hand. Her eyes lingered on the place Ling had stood. His silence cut deeper than any argument could.
She knew that look.
It wasn't just jealousy.
It was pain.
And maybe, deep down, she wanted him to feel it. Just once. Just like she had for months.