In a corner of a certain courtyard within the capital, beneath a pavilion, a tall, slender young man was sorting through medicinal herbs.
These were herbs brought down not long ago from Snow Lotus Mountain. After two days of drying in the sun, the moisture had now evaporated, but the outer husks still needed to be peeled off—a process that looked rather complicated.
This white-robed young man’s back view was nothing short of flawless—black hair and robes fluttering lightly in the wind, an air of effortless elegance and an indescribable charm.
Seen from behind, he was, without question, breathtakingly beautiful.
“Young Master, the common people are all out in the streets, welcoming the Ninth Prince home,” a tall man behind him reported in a low voice.
“Mm.” The young man nodded but paid it no further attention.
The middle-aged woman sitting across from the young man glanced at him, and seeing his expression calm, not a ripple of emotion in his eyes, she turned back to the man standing outside the pavilion and said evenly, “Bring over the horn I brought back from Snow Lotus Mountain yesterday, and grind it into powder.”
At her words, the young man looked up and glanced at her.
It was a clear, refined face, its features exquisite and striking in their beauty—yet to most people, it was an utterly unfamiliar face.
The young man raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. “Did you really cut the horn off a Snow Lotus Beast? Didn’t they bite you?”
“I’ve tamed them for years now—would they dare bite me?” The woman sitting across from the young man was none other than Xue Gu, who had lived on Snow Lotus Mountain alone for over a decade before this.
The Snow Lotus Beasts had originally been hers to tame, so naturally they obeyed her—but to actually cut off one of their horns while it was still alive was, admittedly, a bit much.
“Don’t worry, I used the powder you gave me—the Snow Lotus Beast barely felt any pain. The horn sheds and regrows every two years anyway; I simply cut it a little early.”
Even without cutting it, the horn would eventually fall off on its own and a new one would grow in its place. But the young master had once said that a horn taken with blood still in it was a hundred times more potent medicinally than one that had shed naturally! Cutting it early was clearly the better option.
It was, admittedly, a bit cruel.
“It’ll grow back.” Xue Gu had grown somewhat more willful these past months—though of course, everything she did was for the sake of the white-robed young man before her.
“Alright, weren’t you anxiously waiting for the Snow Lotus Beast’s horn to use as a medicinal catalyst? If I hadn’t seen how anxious you’ve been these past two days, I wouldn’t have done it.”
After all, this was a Snow Lotus Beast that had kept her company for many years—there was real affection between them. Naturally, she had only gone through with it after securing the beast’s own consent.
The young man said nothing further and was about to go back to peeling the herbs, preparing to grind them for medicine.
Before long, the man who had just stepped out returned. His build was clearly one everyone recognized, yet his face was one few had ever seen—a very unfamiliar face.
“Young Master, do you need help grinding the powder?” He sat down beside the white-robed young man, having brought not only the Snow Lotus Beast’s horn retrieved from the icehouse, but also a full set of grinding tools.
“You don’t know how—I’ll do it myself.” The white-robed young man set aside the herbs he had finished peeling and pushed the rest toward Xue Gu, then picked up his tools and got to work.
Once absorbed in his task, he wore an expression of intense focus, not the least bit distracted.
But the grey-robed man wasn’t ready to give up. After a moment of silence, he couldn’t help but speak again. “Young Master, this time the Ninth Prince is willing to enter the city—word is, it’s because he’s searching for someone.”
Throughout the land, among all the nearby cities and even the smaller kingdoms, if there was one place that hadn’t yet been searched, it would have to be this very capital.
It was only because the Ninth Prince simply couldn’t believe that the person he sought would ever be willing to come back to this particular place.
The white-robed young man’s slender, jade-like fingers paused for the briefest moment, then resumed grinding the horn into powder, paying it little mind.
The man still wasn’t ready to let it drop. “Right now everyone’s out kneeling in the streets—the people’s devotion to the Ninth Prince is honestly deeper than what they feel for Emperor Qiwen. Young Master, are you really not going out to take a look?”
“Are you so idle today that all the shops have shut down?” The white-robed young man looked up and glanced at him.
The man shrugged, entirely unconcerned. “It’s not my business anyway. I’m just hired help. If it shuts down, it shuts down. If even the Young Master doesn’t care, why should I?”
The white-robed young man grabbed a handful of something—a piece of the herb husk he’d just peeled off—and flung it at his face.
The man dodged it narrowly, still grinning. “Young Master, your martial skill keeps improving. At this rate, won’t you soon be the greatest under heaven?”
The greatest under heaven?
A flicker passed through the white-robed young man’s eyes. Beyond every sky there is another sky, beyond every person there is another greater still—when would that title ever fall to him?
Setting everything else aside, the War God Ninth Prince currently receiving the homage of every common person outside was simply not someone he could compare himself to.
“I’m going in to refine medicine. You can keep flapping your lips out here. If things aren’t handled properly today, just wait and see how I deal with you later.”
He picked up the ground horn powder along with the herbs he had just peeled, rose, and walked off.
That graceful, almost otherworldly figure, though not especially tall, stood—thanks to his specially made boots—at least as tall as an average man, truly a peerless beauty without equal.
“He doesn’t want to talk about it—why provoke him again?” Xue Gu glanced at the man still standing beneath the pavilion and muttered, lips pressed together, “Isn’t it good enough, the way things are now?”
“Xue Gu, do you really think he’s been doing well these past six months?” The man sat down across from her, and the moment he used his real voice—a low tone that was unmistakably a woman’s—it became clear this was none other than Qiaomu.
Half a year—so many things, so many feelings, might well have changed in that time. Whether the young master had truly let go, no one could say.
Xue Gu looked at the face she had grown used to seeing these past months, then looked toward the direction the young master had gone, and it took her a good while to come back to herself.
She had no clear answer to Qiaomu’s question, not knowing quite how to respond.
After a long pause, she said quietly, “At least, the way things are now is good for everyone.”
The two fell into silence. Before long, a young woman came hurrying in from outside, her figure clearly one they knew well, though her face, too, was different now.
Xiao Yingtao came running in, clearly worked up. “Where’s the young master?”
“He just went to the medicine room. What is it? Why are you in such a rush?” Qiaomu jumped to her feet, suddenly uneasy. “It’s not—has something happened in the city, with the Ninth Prince’s return?”
“No, no, it’s that person again, come back last night.”
The common people don’t go up against officials—that was a rule anyone in business understood well. But sometimes, when officials went too far, it was infuriating all the same.
“Our young master already said it—your lord’s illness is beyond what our young master can treat, so please leave.”
The visitor was the steward of the Nanmen clan. The young master had made it clear: no one from the Nanmen clan would be treated!
Steward Cui hadn’t expected that, even after coming in person—and this being his second visit—the other side wouldn’t even grant him a meeting, refusing even to show their face!
Displeased, he said, “Our Duke has also made it clear—today, no matter what, Feng Jiu must be brought to the manor to look at the lord’s leg ailment!”