“Xiao Ying? Xiao Ying?”
“Yu Gong Zhao Ye! Where are you hiding?”
“Come out and eat! Where are you? It’s New Year—don’t make me beat you!”
At the beginning of the new year, Xie Wang Shu had finally managed to take some time off. She had intended to lovingly enjoy a little family time with her cub, but instead spent the entire morning circling Bihua Pavilion. This is outrageous. How can being a mother be even more exhausting than killing people and setting fires?
Her motherly roars failed to summon her precious son. Instead, they startled awake a whole crowd of sleepy good-for-nothing subordinates in the rear courtyard, who clung to the windows as though they had only just transformed into human form and watched the commotion. “Sister Wang Shu, calm down. How can you beat a child during New Year?”
“Chief, calling him out for breakfast won’t work. Tell him you’re giving him lucky money and I guarantee he’ll appear.”
“His Little Highness has probably gone visiting somewhere. He’ll find his own way back when he gets hungry.”
“Mother, your missing son is right here. I would like hot sweet fermented-rice dumplings with osmanthus for breakfast.”
Xie Wang Shu pointed at them one by one. “Spoiling him, spoiling him, spoiling him—and you, get lost! Make it yourself if you want to eat!”
The Moon Envoys scattered in a laughing, noisy swarm. Xie Wang Shu continued searching for her son with a forehead full of troubles, secretly resolving that this time she would discipline the little thing until he was utterly obedient and never dared play hide-and-seek with her again.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye was still young, but frighteningly nimble. His temperament was like a cat’s, and he particularly loved crouching in obscure corners high above the ground. What he enjoyed most was watching coldly while everyone below ran around in circles. Only once they became anxious enough to climb onto the roof would he slowly poke his head out from somewhere completely unexpected.
Xie Wang Shu wandered all the way to the western courtyard of Bihua Pavilion. Three green parasol trees stood there, nearly the tallest plants in the entire palace. Squinting into the dense mass of leaves, she finally spotted a tiny corner of moon-white fabric that almost blended into the sky. She raised her leg and kicked the trunk. “Still hiding? I’ve caught you now!”
The branches and leaves rustled violently, and the enormous crown of the tree showered down a great pile of leaves, as though trembling in fear before this bandit tyrant.
A moment later, a short gray lock of hair like the tip of a cat’s tail emerged from the layered dark-green foliage. Next came a small jade-pale face hanging upside down, its expression tightly drawn. His eyes were limpid and bright as he stared blankly at her like a little animal and called, “Mother.”
Xie Wang Shu: “…”
It was cheating to look so infuriatingly adorable with that face.
“What are you pretending to be a bat for this early in the morning? I’ll hang you on the door later.” Muttering, she spread her arms beneath him. “Come down and eat.”
At nine years old, Yu Gong Zhao Ye no longer liked clinging to his mother’s leg. He slowly gripped the trunk and slid downward. Halfway down, Xie Wang Shu plucked him off with one hand, then used the excuse of brushing away dirt and dust to give him a thoroughly merciless patting down. “Look at all this mud. You resemble a beggar’s chicken…” She pressed the smoother back of her hand against his cheek and neck. His skin was cold as freshly washed jade, and she could not help asking in surprise, “How long were you crouching up there? Such perseverance. Were you planning to steal bird eggs or watch the sunrise?”
Held in her hand, Yu Gong Zhao Ye wore an obviously unhappy expression, though he did not scratch her. He said gloomily, “I was waiting for snow.”
Xie Wang Shu: “What?”
“Snow,” Yu Gong Zhao Ye muttered softly. “When all of you were drinking last night, you said it would definitely snow during the night.”
Xie Wang Shu: “…”
She carefully set this stubborn little creature down, rubbed his face, and asked with a paling expression, “Wait—you didn’t come out here last night and stay here waiting, did you?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye nodded. Xie Wang Shu hurriedly turned her face away and clicked her tongue in vexation.
Naturally, Bihan City… almost never saw snow.
Winters there were cool and rainy, and even at their coldest, only a thin layer of frost formed. In nearly thirty years of Xie Wang Shu’s memories, it had snowed only twice. Cold winds from the distant north had swept across ten thousand li of mountains and rivers before meeting the warm moisture rising from the vast sea above Longsha. Overnight, snow had blanketed the entire city.
Clad in silver and wrapped in white, it had resembled an immortal realm—beautiful beyond description.
Because snow was so rare, the people of Longsha were especially fond of ice and snow. The finest porcelain in Bihan City was called Ice White, its finest fabric Snowlight Satin, and its finest wine Melting Snow.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye had been born as pale and cold as a little jade dumpling and had heard countless compliments comparing him to something “carved from ice and sculpted from snow” or praising his “skin of ice and bones of snow.” Yet he had never actually seen snow. Whenever he asked adults about it, all he received were vague answers such as “It’s white” and “It’s very beautiful.” He read books and studied paintings, but no matter how hard he relied upon his imagination, he could not understand what “snow” truly looked like.
After the grand palace banquet the previous night, the members of Bihua had held a smaller gathering of their own to keep vigil and welcome the new year. Since that winter had been colder than usual, they drank Melting Snow wine and spouted all manner of drunken nonsense and jokes. Xie Wang Shu could no longer remember the specifics, but she vaguely recalled someone thumping his chest and claiming that his ancestors had been charlatans who observed the heavens and prayed for rain. In his ancestors’ name, he swore that it would definitely snow that night.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye had believed him.
The ash-gray sky was reflected in those clear amber eyes, silently pouring down an entire rainstorm. Yu Gong Zhao Ye blinked, lowered his head, and stared at the parasol leaves scattered across the ground. “Once the New Year is over, spring will come.”
If it did not snow in winter, then naturally it was even less likely to snow in spring. He had failed to see snow again this year.
Although Yu Gong Zhao Ye did not burst into loud tears, his despondency hung around him like damp mist, making him resemble a drenched, wilted little animal. Xie Wang Shu’s motherly love immediately flared back to life. Wrapping her arms around him, she comforted him, “It’s all right. Back in our hometown, we had a custom. In ancient times, if a shaman prayed for rain and got it wrong, they would drag him deep into the mountains, tie him to a maple tree, and whip him. Once he had been beaten, it would rain. Mother will go prepare a whip right now. Who was it last night who claimed his ancestors were shamans?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye: “…”
“Mother.” He exhaled a wisp of cold air, his voice filled with a forbearance far beyond his years. “That isn’t what it means to make someone repay a snow debt in blood.”
Xie Wang Shu, who had never studied much: “?”
“Let’s go back.”
The small figure walked ahead with drooping shoulders, wearing an expression that plainly said, I have not been comforted at all, but I will learn to be strong. Following behind him, Xie Wang Shu wondered anxiously, Who on earth did he inherit this from?
She had always been adaptable and easygoing, taking life as it came and never dwelling on anything. Her entire philosophy of life could be summed up in two words: live freely. Yet Yu Gong Zhao Ye was an obstinate and painfully serious little creature. When something troubled him, he told no one and refused to listen to advice. When he failed, he did not need comforting. He merely stored it silently in his heart and kept trying until the day he succeeded.
In the words of his nominal father, Yu Gong Du, this was called “quiet depth overcoming through strength”—to remain profound and unrevealing while harboring unyielding resolve within. But while human affairs could still be influenced and left room for effort, Xie Wang Shu worried that if Yu Gong Zhao Ye ever fell in love with someone, he would stop at nothing to bring that person into his grasp.
And should the worst happen and he follow in his mother’s footsteps, how could life and death ever be forced by human will?
Harboring these worries, she returned to the main courtyard, watched Yu Gong Zhao Ye finish breakfast with the same worried expression, worriedly sent him back to his room to catch up on sleep, worried that spending the entire night in the tree had chilled him, and worriedly summoned Qi Li Xiang to give him two acupuncture needles.
After Physician Qi Li’s needles left him aggrieved into a little ball, Yu Gong Zhao Ye curled up beneath the quilt with his back to the room and fell asleep facing the wall.
Halfway through his dream, someone shook him awake. In his groggy daze, people helped him dress and comb his hair. Figures moved around him amid a jumble of soft voices, but he was far too sleepy to understand a single word. Assuming that they were probably taking him to another palace banquet, he kept his eyes closed and allowed them to fuss over him. Finally, someone carried him into a carriage, where he toppled onto the cushions with a thump and continued sleeping.
The jolting journey seemed endless and was exceptionally soporific. By the time Yu Gong Zhao Ye finally woke, his head felt numb. He sat up blankly in the dim carriage and looked from side to side. An inexplicable trace of fear gradually emerged from the emptiness. Scrambling on all fours to the curtain, he called tentatively, “Mother?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Xie Wang Shu reached back and lifted one corner of the curtain, turning to tease him. “You really can sleep, Young Master. Finally willing to wake up?”
The sun had already set, and dusk had settled over the land. The cool wind sweeping across the open wilderness struck Yu Gong Zhao Ye and made him shiver. Even with his limited experience of the world, he knew this was not Bihan City. “Mother, where are you taking me? Are we visiting relatives?”
Xie Wang Shu smiled and vigorously rubbed his head, mussing the bewildered Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s hair until it stood on end. “We’re going to see snow.”
His dazed, unfocused eyes instantly lit up.
“If Longsha does not snow, then we will go somewhere that does.” Xie Wang Shu’s gaze did not rest upon him but seemed fixed on some uncertain silhouette in the empty distance. “Your mother has roamed freely beneath Heaven, yet my own child could only sit pitifully in a tree all night waiting in vain. People would laugh if word got out. No matter what, I’m going to make this happen for you today.”
The day before, she had sat beside Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s bed, staring worriedly at the lump beneath the quilt. Qi Li Xiang had hesitated beside her for a long while, then finally could not bear watching any longer and kindly asked whether she wanted to take some Xiaoyao Pills.
Elio’s Notes: Xiaoyao Pills – a traditional Chinese herbal medicine used to relieve stress and emotional distress.
Xie Wang Shu had suddenly seen the light.
“Why worry about the future when the matter right in front of me has not even been resolved? Am I looking for reasons to upset myself?” She abruptly rose and strode outside, thinking, Besides, what is wrong with being devoted and persistent? Even if he truly smashes his head bloody against a wall one day, won’t he still have me?
A faint rustling came from beside her. Yu Gong Zhao Ye had crawled out of the carriage and burrowed up against her as though seeking warmth. Now that he was happy, he no longer turned his backside toward people and instead lifted his bright, shining face to look up at her.
Hooves shattered the thin frost covering the ground, and a soft laugh scattered into the cold wind sweeping across the wilderness.
“Hyah!”
They continued north and entered Xiling. The weather grew colder and colder, and scattered piles of unmelted snow gradually began appearing along the road. The northern wind swept dead leaves and dry grass through the sky, carrying the scent of dust, sand, and cold snow. Yu Gong Zhao Ye did not mind the wind lashing his face and spent every day tirelessly clinging to the carriage window and peering outside.
After traveling for more than ten days and passing through towns and villages of every size, the carriage finally stopped before Zhanglu Temple on Duzuo Mountain outside Fengdu.
The evening bell startled weary birds from the mountain woods. Wrapped in a thick white fox-fur cloak, Yu Gong Zhao Ye resembled a walking dandelion. He tilted his head back to study the signboard and asked hesitantly, “Mother, are we going inside to worship the Buddha?”
“You may worship if you wish.” Xie Wang Shu casually lifted the furry little bundle over the threshold, then added unhurriedly, “But there’s no need to be so polite. The Buddhist temple is merely a front. This place belongs to Bihua.”
That night, the two of them stayed in the meditation quarters behind the temple. Early the following morning, Yu Gong Zhao Ye was awakened by the calls of birds rising and falling outside the window.
He was alone in the room; Xie Wang Shu was nowhere to be seen. Yu Gong Zhao Ye sat up blankly on the bed, rubbed his eyes, and gazed toward the bright window. A cool, damp scent brushed his nose, and an indescribable premonition suddenly rose within him.
He hurriedly dressed and dashed outside like the wind, his feet pounding across the floor. The dazzling whiteness before him immediately blinded him, and he stopped uncertainly upon the steps.
Heavy snow had fallen soundlessly throughout the night, carpeting the courtyard in a seamless blanket whose depth could not be judged by sight. Everything within view—the nearby pines, cypresses, shrubs, stone railings, and rooftops, as well as the distant mountains, rocks, and forests—was covered in white. Heaven and earth had become a vast expanse of silver. Countless tiny ice crystals seemed suspended within the fresh, bitterly cold air, pricking faintly at him with every breath.
It was a white entirely unlike any moonlight, clouds, sea foam, or silverware he had ever seen. It could not be depicted or embellished; it simply and indisputably filled every one of his senses. All things beneath Heaven seemed subdued by that coldness. In the future, when someone asked what snow was like, even he would only be able to answer with vague phrases such as “It’s white” and “It’s very beautiful.”
Like the first time he had stood at the seaside, afraid of the waves that withdrew only to return, Yu Gong Zhao Ye cautiously extended the tip of one foot into the snow.
The snow was not as soft and weightless as it appeared. It felt somewhat like the beaches of Longsha, only finer, lighter, and denser than sand. When pressed beneath his foot, it made a crisp crunching sound.
With his fur practically standing on end, he gathered his courage and took one careful step after another. Soon, caution gave way entirely to delight. He ran tirelessly back and forth through the snow, unaware that the tip of his nose had turned red from the cold. At last, he crouched beside a pond where the snow had accumulated and scooped up a handful of flawless white ice crystals.
Before he could decide what to do with them, something suddenly struck the back of his head. The impact was not particularly hard, but it still knocked him off balance.
A large clump of snow burst across his head, showering his hair and clothing before slipping down his collar and melting into icy droplets against his neck.
“Who was that?!”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye clutched his head and spun around with an angry glare. Not far away, at the courtyard entrance, Xie Wang Shu stood with her arms folded, evidently having watched the spectacle for quite some time. She bared her teeth at him and flashed a triumphant, provocative grin.
The northern wind swept across the courtyard, sending powdered snow swirling from the eaves. It glittered in the sunlight like thousands of stars. Pine and cypress branches swayed gently in the wind, occasionally dropping a great mass of white snow onto the bluestone path the household servants had swept clean that morning.
“You are far too willful! They were guests, and it was merely a casual joke. Who was deliberately trying to make trouble for you? So many of your brothers were at the banquet. Third Brother and Fourth Brother were teased too, yet they simply laughed it off. But you are so precious that no one may say a single word to you! You abandoned an entire table of guests and ran away. Do you have no manners at all? What will others think of our family?”
Wei Fu stood beneath a tree with his hands tucked into his sleeves, his lowered gaze fixed upon a small patch of snow trapped between the railing posts. Wei Xiu’s endless scolding echoed beside his ears. That tactless crowd trampled all over me merely to curry favor with you. A mute cannot argue back. If I hadn’t run, I would only have ended up like this—caught and lectured without end.
Mu Heng and Zhong Yi had returned to the palace for the New Year, so Wei Xiu had finally seized his opportunity. Every few days, he would appear before Wei Fu and put on the airs of an elder brother. Wei Fu had endured him throughout the entire New Year and had finally struggled his way to the Lantern Festival, with the holiday nearly over. Who could have expected one final calamity? At the banquet earlier, he had stormed out after being ridiculed, only to be caught because he had not run quickly enough. Wei Xiu had chased him down, dragged him beneath a tree, and subjected him to another scolding.
New Year celebrations were dreadful. Cold weather was dreadful too. Living beneath someone else’s roof… was the most dreadful thing of all.
While Wei Fu’s thoughts wandered, a figure flashed through the edge of his vision. Before he could focus and see clearly, a muffled thud sounded. The resilient branches of the pine tree suddenly shook violently, and large masses of snow cascaded down with a tremendous rustle. Within that small area, it was as though a blizzard had erupted, instantly drenching both men beneath the tree from head to toe.
Wei Fu thought, How wicked!
The icy snow covering Wei Xiu made him jump in shock. “Hiss! Pfft… pah! Who was that? Who is playing tricks? Come out!”
A figure in a black fur cloak and dark robes appeared leisurely along the covered corridor. Mu Heng descended the steps and entered the courtyard. He first pulled Wei Fu to his side and brushed the snow from him, then turned toward the culprit who had kicked the tree and rebuked him without much severity, “Naughty.”
Zhong Yi appeared in a flash. As usual, he could not be bothered with the steps and simply vaulted over the railing three feet above the ground. Grinning at the flustered Wei Xiu, he said, “Happy New Year, Eldest Young Master. Don’t take it personally—it was only a joke.” He then brought the hand hidden behind his back forward and offered Wei Fu a small brocade bundle. “Second Young Master, a belated Happy New Year to you. This is a New Year’s tray from the palace. His Highness had one prepared especially for you.”
Wei Xiu: “…”
Wei Fu returned the greeting blankly and held the heavy bundle in his arms, catching the faint fragrance of oranges.
A “New Year’s tray” was a box filled with fruit and pastries for children on New Year’s Eve, meant to convey auspicious wishes. The Duke Who Stabilizes the Nation’s household had prepared them as well, but Wei Fu did not remember his own being particularly heavy. This one, however, weighed heavily in his arms.
He blinked the frost from his eyelashes and asked Mu Heng with his eyes, Why are you here?
“The palace was boring. I assumed you had nothing to do, so I came to find you. I didn’t expect someone else to get here first.” Mu Heng raised his chin toward Wei Xiu with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Eldest Young Master Wei, are you finished? I’m taking him with me.”
His tone sounded as though he were asking, but in reality, he was simply dismissing him. Wei Xiu’s display of authority had lasted only a moment before he was crushed into the ground. Yet he dared neither provoke Mu Heng nor offend Mu Heng’s loyal lackey, so he could only swallow his anger and say, “Respectfully seeing Your Highness off.”
Mu Heng gave him a polite but perfunctory nod, then took his two trusted companions and returned to his own courtyard as though he were the master of the estate.
The Lantern Festival had always been liveliest after nightfall. The three of them played together until dark, after which Mu Heng ordered the guards to drive them to the entrance of the Eastern Market. From a distance, they could already see the brilliantly illuminated avenue. Mu Heng had barely stepped down from the carriage when the two unleashed mad dogs beside him completely broke free, each grabbing one of his arms and dragging him away at a flying pace.
Mu Heng: “…Slow down!”
Seeing this, the guards hurriedly dropped the reins and chased after the young masters, following close behind them into the crowded stream of people.
Apart from admiring lanterns, walking off the hundred illnesses, guessing lantern riddles, and other amusements, Fengdu also had the custom of eating “flower-bud buns” during the Lantern Festival. The “buds” were actually ordinary leavened buns pinched into the shape of flower buds and stamped with various patterns using molds. Most were filled with sweet pastes such as red bean or rose, and each contained a small wooden slip bearing an auspicious phrase. Whichever phrase a person drew was said to foretell their fortune for the entire year.
Since the night curfew was lifted every year on the fifteenth day of the first month, allowing men and women to meet by chance and stroll together, many vendors deliberately paired their flower-bud buns so that the auspicious phrases inside would combine into a line of romantic poetry.
Mu Heng and the others were still young. They enjoyed the festivities but had no particular interest in joining that sort of excitement, so they chose a neat, clean stall without gaudy decorations. The stallholders were a middle-aged couple. One look at the three boys’ clothing and bearing told them that they came from wealthy households, and they immediately began introducing their wares with great enthusiasm. “Our family originally ran a pastry shop. This purple-taro and salted-egg-yolk filling is our own secret recipe. Quite a few restaurants and taverns have tried to ask us for it, but you won’t find another like it anywhere in Fengdu. Purple paired with gold is also an auspicious sign. Would the young gentlemen like to buy a few and try them?”
To wear purple and hang gold was an omen of high office and noble rank. Zhong Yi and Wei Fu both smiled at the scion of the imperial house beside them. Mu Heng rolled his eyes and gestured for the guards to pay. “My treat. Choose whatever you like. May the two of you enjoy boundless prospects.”
As they spoke, a slightly husky woman’s voice gradually approached from the distance. It was not particularly mellow or pleasant, yet it somehow possessed a strange power that drew people into listening closely.
“Don’t be angry anymore… Mother truly didn’t do it on purpose. Shall I buy you a sweet bun to make amends? Like cures like. Eat a bun today, and the bump will be flat by tomorrow.”
Hearing this, Wei Fu turned around. A tall woman with gray hair and black clothing stopped beside him. Half her face was covered by a mask, revealing only a pale, pointed chin. With her other hand, she held a child dressed in a hooded cloak. The child’s figure was completely concealed behind the adult, making it impossible to tell whether they were a boy or a girl; Wei Fu could only see that the child was about his own height.
He silently shifted aside to make room, thinking, I don’t think “like cures like” is supposed to be used that way.
The child did not speak, merely reaching out with some reluctance to point at one. The woman laughed. “Oh, a little fox. You like foxes, do you? Then I’ll take this tiger. I’m the king of the mountain! Hahaha.”
Everyone who had pricked up their ears to eavesdrop: “…” Good heavens.
After paying, the mother and child soon disappeared into the bustling crowd. Wei Fu withdrew his gaze, unable to describe what he felt. As though compelled by some unseen force, he reached out and chose a flower-bud bun stamped with a fox as well.
Zhong Yi’s tastes were remarkably consistent. He always chose the puppy pattern. However, his bun had apparently been placed too close to the one beside it in the steamer and had stuck to it. Pulling them apart would inevitably ruin their shapes, so Mu Heng simply took the adjoining bun.
Since the two buns had been pressed together, the slips inside naturally formed a pair. Zhong Yi’s read, “Like the waxing moon,” while Mu Heng’s read, “Like the rising sun.”
These fortunes were… surprisingly accurate.
Zhong Yi looked at Mu Heng with his lips curved into a smile, practically lacking only a tail wagging behind him. His eyes plainly said, Praise me quickly. The sight made Mu Heng’s ears grow hot. He carefully pinched the wooden slip between his fingertips and had someone wipe it clean and put it away. “You certainly know how to choose. There couldn’t be a more auspicious pair. You can choose again next year.”
“What did Second Young Master Wei draw?”
No one answered.
They turned at the same time and saw Wei Fu standing frozen in place, seemingly charred by a bolt of lightning.
Mu Heng leaned closer to look and burst out laughing. “‘Though my body has no brilliant phoenix wings with which to fly beside yours’… Why would they put a fortune like this inside? Did the person just now happen to take the second line? As for your ‘Penglai Mountain,’ it’s far more than ten thousand barriers away—hiss! You’re scratching people again! What terrible manners!”
At the other end of the long street, the illiterate mother and son stared blankly at the words on their slip:
Our hearts are linked by the sacred rhinoceros’s single thread.
“What does ‘the heart has something, one something connects’ mean?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye had at least spent two years learning to read. Pointing at the character 點, he said, “That one is pronounced dian. ‘The heart has one point connected.’”
“Only one point connects?” Xie Wang Shu asked in confusion. “Why can’t the whole thing connect? How stingy.”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye shook his head and answered honestly, “I don’t know.”
“Keep it somewhere safe and ask your teacher when we return.” Xie Wang Shu always yielded quickly in matters like this and never stubbornly pretended to understand. “I can’t make sense of the poem, but the bun was quite tasty. Does your head still hurt?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye had obediently kept his hood on that day, not only because he feared the cold, but because Xie Wang Shu had shown no restraint during their snowball fight and struck such a large bump onto his forehead that he had refused to smile at her all day.
Yet the marketplace was now filled with flickering lanterns, laughter, and cheerful noise. The entire city reveled on the night of the Lantern Festival, and its warmth seemed capable of melting every bitter wind and snowdrift of deep winter—let alone his small fit of sulking.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye breathed out a tiny puff of white mist, the sweet fragrance of the bun still lingering on his tongue, and thought, Forget it.
He voluntarily took Xie Wang Shu’s hand. “It stopped hurting after I ate the bun. Mother, what was written on your slip?”
Xie Wang Shu’s brow twitched. Her thumb gently pinched the soft flesh of his palm as she replied casually with a smile, “Promotion and riches.”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye nodded, thinking that this auspicious phrase suited his mother’s lifelong ambition of “becoming the king.” But she was already the chief of Bihua. Was she planning to become empress this year?
Fireworks rose into the distant sky. They moved slowly forward with the crowd, Xie Wang Shu holding Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s hand with one of hers while keeping the other behind her back. With a light flick of her finger, the small wooden slip flew precisely into the brazier of a nearby roasted-chestnut stall.
For an instant, the open flame illuminated the small line of writing. Then the thin wooden slip sank into the fire and turned to ash.
It read—
May those we love live long.
Elio’s Notes: Second to end this day. I’m gonna mix our fox spirit and His Highness. Thanks all for reading! Please leave a comment/review on this story at Novel Updates here.
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