Walking out of the Martial Training Tower, a cool breeze swept in from ahead.

It was only a mild evening wind, not truly cold at all — yet Feng Jiu’er shivered despite it.

The memory of the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s gaze from moments ago, heavy with threat, lingered in her mind. Just thinking of it made her tremble faintly all over again.

Cold. Dangerous. Utterly aggressive — impossible to ignore, impossible for anyone to resist.

He was always like that — aloof and lofty — and though he appeared harmless on the surface, being at his side was, in the end, like living beside a tiger.

Far too dangerous.

“Cold?” A robe was suddenly draped over her shoulders.

On this early autumn night, the garment still carried his warmth, and it was enough to bring some heat back to Feng Jiu’er’s body.

She looked up at him, surprised. “You waited here this whole time? There’s a barbecue going on in the back hills — why didn’t you go eat something and join the fun?”

Mu Mu said nothing. Without her there, revelry had always felt more like a burden to him than anything else.

“Was it fun?” He fastened the robe around her, and the two of them walked together through the wind, out of the Martial Training Tower’s courtyard.

“It was all right. Everyone was very enthusiastic — they’re probably still singing and dancing right about now.”

A bonfire gathering, after all, wasn’t complete without singing and dancing.

Jiu’er still couldn’t help but lift her eyes to look at him — at that white hair of his, which appeared even clearer and more coldly pure under the bright moonlight.

“Mu Mu…” She called his name softly, as though something was on the tip of her tongue, yet at the very moment it nearly came out, she forgot what it was she had wanted to say.

Why did being around Mu Mu always feel so strange? Not uncomfortable, not awkward or ill at ease, but… strange, in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

Being with him was genuinely pleasant, yet there was always this indescribable feeling about it — perhaps pity, perhaps guilt, perhaps both at once.

“Whatever you want to say, there’s no need to hold back in front of me.”

“Right — your master said that day that this thing was extremely important, not to be given to anyone.”

She raised her wrist. On it was a chain from which hung a small golden lock pendant.

“Even though I was unconscious at the time, I vaguely seemed to hear your master scolding you. The ‘extremely important thing’ he spoke of — it’s this, isn’t it?”

At first, he had told her it was a family heirloom. If even his master said the same, then it must certainly be true.

“Since it’s something so important, Mu Mu — won’t you take it back? Having it with me feels like such a burden.”

Although Mu Mu’s expression didn’t change, his gaze grew faintly shadowed — a trace of gloom, as though it had dimmed slightly.

“Are you upset with me, Mu Mu?” Feng Jiu’er felt a little deflated. Why did everyone have to be upset with her?

Such a precious thing — wouldn’t it be better for him to keep it himself? Left with her, it would only be a matter of time before it got lost.

“Have you forgotten what I once said — that anything I give, I will never take back? If ever it were to be returned, it would be on the day I fall in battle, when you place it upon my grave.”

“Stop saying such things!” Everything was perfectly fine — why was he talking about falling in battle and graves? It was terribly inauspicious!

She couldn’t say why, but hearing Mu Mu speak like that, looking at that head of snow-white hair, Feng Jiu’er felt a sudden sharp pain in her heart, as though something had stabbed deep into it.

That white hair, that Mu Mu — there was an inexplicable desolation about him that words could not capture.

As though… one day his words would come true, and she herself would place the chain upon his grave…

“That won’t happen!” Feng Jiu’er struck her own head sharply with her palm. She grabbed his large hand in both of hers and said with conviction, “You won’t die — and I won’t let you!”

Why did she always feel as though Mu Mu had already made a kind of peace with himself — a readiness to fall on the battlefield at any moment?

But he was still a new student. The day he would ever go to war was still so far away, wasn’t it?

Why did he give off such a desolate feeling? Looking at him like this — this version of Mu Mu — made her heart ache.

“Even if you do go to war one day, why must it end in death? Why can’t it be about building achievements and making a name for yourself?”

The words “fall in battle” were not the first time she had heard them from him. He seemed to harbor a great many things in his heart — and at the end of all those things, the conclusion was always death.

Why would a young man think this way?

“Did I frighten you?” The gloom in Mu Mu’s eyes flickered and vanished, replaced by a trace of warmth. “If you don’t like it, I won’t say it anymore. But…”

His expression softened into something quietly solemn as he looked at her, his voice earnest. “This thing — I gave it to you, and that means it’s yours. From now on, any talk of returning it — that’s not to be said again.”

“I—”

“Come, let me accompany you to the back hills for a while.” By now, everyone should still be gathered there.

Knowing he didn’t want to continue this subject, Feng Jiu’er glanced once more at the chain on her wrist, and at last swallowed every last word that was no longer appropriate to say.

Walking beside him felt, in some way, subtly similar to walking beside the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

They were both tall in the same way — even their looks carried a passing resemblance — though their temperaments were entirely different.

The Ninth Imperial Uncle was cool and detached; Mu Mu was quiet and reserved. The Ninth Imperial Uncle’s coldness concealed depths no one could fathom; Mu Mu’s warmth hid secrets that no one knew.

And yet, even their temperaments, in some hard-to-name way, shared the faintest similarity…

“Mu Mu.” Watching the long shadows the two of them cast under the moonlight, Feng Jiu’er suddenly asked, “What are your plans for the future?”

“To go to the battlefield and kill enemies.” Not a moment’s hesitation — as though it were a mission he had been born shouldering, accepted as naturally as breathing.

Why did it have to be the battlefield? Yet there wasn’t a trace of killing intent about him; he was, by every measure, a gentle and peaceful person.

“And beyond the battlefield? Is there truly nothing you want for your own life?” Feng Jiu’er pursed her lips, thoroughly unsatisfied with that answer.

Because that answer, no matter how she looked at it, still made her feel for him.

“A life I want for myself?” Mu Mu seemed never to have considered this question before. Now, at last, he began to think on it seriously.

He was quiet for a moment. Then a soft smile curved the corners of his lips as he looked down at her. “To marry you and have children with you.”

Feng Jiu’er’s face turned red instantly, and she was immediately indignant. “I never thought about—”

“What is yet to come, we can speak of when it comes.” He suddenly took a long stride and quickened his pace, heading in the direction of the back hills.

Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to move her own legs — which were, by his standards, short and small — and hurry after him. “Mu Mu, don’t you have your own plans at all? Like becoming a great general who protects the realm, or going into business and becoming wealthy, or—”

“If you’d like that, I could also step back from military life after I’ve accomplished what I set out to do, and run some small ventures to give you a comfortable life.”

“…” Feng Jiu’er found she truly had nothing to say. Why did everything come back to her?

“Mu Mu—” “If you don’t like it, then we’ll speak of it later.” Mu Mu said simply — making it plain that he was not about to let her continue this line of talk.