The morning at the Prince's Manor felt a degree colder than usual.
Huo Xi trotted along the corridor, clutching a bundle of freshly dried medicinal herbs. As she walked, her fingertips unconsciously pressed against the sky-blue pouch at her waist, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Suddenly, her footsteps faltered.
In the center of the courtyard, Shadow Blade stood tall like a frozen pine in his crisp black attire. He was speaking in low tones to several secret guards, assigning missions. His voice was calm and concise, each word sharp as a precision-cut blade, radiating a chilling authority.
Huo Xi's eyes lit up like two small flames. She instinctively quickened her pace, wanting to rush over.
"Shadow—"
The name she held so close to her heart was about to escape her lips when Shadow Blade, as if sensing something, turned around calmly.
His gaze swept across the courtyard, finally landing on Huo Xi. The moment was fleeting, so brief it felt like an illusion. His eyes didn't hold that trace of unnoticeable warmth they usually did; instead, they were like a pool of stagnant water, bone-chillingly cold.
In the next heartbeat, he averted his gaze without a hint of lingering attachment, giving the guards one last command: "Once the mission is complete, disperse. No need to report back."
With that, he strode past Huo Xi with his long legs.
No pause. No nod. Not even a glance from the corner of his eye.
The cold draft he left in his wake brushed against Huo Xi's cheek, leaving her frozen in place. The herbs in her arms nearly spilled; she clutched them tight, but felt as though a piece of her heart had been hollowed out.
"...Master Shadow?" she called out softly to his retreating, heartless back, her voice trembling with an unnoticeable quiver.
Shadow Blade's pace didn't falter in the slightest. His broad shoulders looked so cold and rigid in the morning light, as if he hadn't heard her call at all—or perhaps, he simply didn't want to hear it.
The wind whistled through the corridor, tossing the stray hairs by her ears and scattering the lightheartedness she had felt moments ago. She stood there for a long while before slowly lowering her head. Her fingers gripped the pouch tightly, her eyes reddening.
"What's wrong with him..." she murmured to herself, her tone a mix of confusion and unspoken grievance.
In the days that followed, Shadow Blade seemed to "evaporate" from Huo Xi's life. He was intentionally avoiding her, and this sudden alienation hurt her more than anything.
The night was as cool as water.
Huo Xi carried a warm food box, stepping onto the familiar bluestone path. In the past, at this hour, whenever she walked under the corridors, that black-clad figure would always appear like a ghost from a rooftop or a shadow. She had grown accustomed to that silent, reassuring companionship.
Sometimes, he would simply step out from the dark, reach out to take the heavy food box—their fingertips occasionally brushing with a stiff coldness—and mutter a low "Thank you for your hard work" before standing there as still as a statue.
Sometimes, seeing her thin clothes, he would frown and nag: "The night wind is strong. You're dressed too lightly; it's easy to catch a chill." His tone was always icy, like he was conducting official business, yet that hidden, barely perceptible care always made warmth bloom in Huo Xi's heart despite the wind.
Occasionally, she would be bold enough to talk about manor gossip or Auntie Mei's nagging, and he would rarely, but surely, respond with a word or two. Short on words, but never absent.
But now—
Huo Xi slowed her pace, her eyes scanning like radar through the guard posts where he usually appeared.
At the first corner, there were only tattered banana leaves shivering in the wind.
At the second pillar, the shadows held nothing but mottled stone marks.
At the third lookout near the outer wall, there was nothing but the distant sound of patrolling footsteps.
She visited every place he might be. Not once did she encounter him. Not once.
"Master Shadow?" she whispered tentatively, her voice echoing in the silent courtyard, sounding lonely and abrupt.
There was no response.
She tightened her grip on the food box, her knuckles turning white. It felt like there was a hole in her chest, letting the cold wind howl right through. She didn't know that the man was currently perched on the highest roof ridge, his gaze as sharp as a blade, staring down at her.
In Shadow Blade's mind, his "absence" was an act of grace to allow her and the "Third Young Master" their mutual affection. In Huo Xi's eyes, it was nothing but cold, silent rejection.
Late at night, Huo Xi sat in her room by the dim light of a single lamp. She carefully took out the sky-blue pouch. Unfastening the knot, she pulled out the redwood tag.
The name "Shadow Blade" still looked slanted and clumsy under the lamplight. The stroke for the character Ren (Blade) was a bit too deep because her hand had been shaking at the time.
She looked at it and couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "It's really ugly..."
But as she laughed, the joy slowly faded. She traced the characters with her thumb, her voice dropping. "If you saw this... would you laugh at me?"
The room was silent. Save for the faint crackle of the lamp wick, no one answered.
That night, she clearly felt—he cared. That tone, that look, they couldn't have been fake.
"But now you won't even look at me... you won't even say a word," she muttered with a childish pout. In a fit of pique, she shoved the tag back into the pouch and tied the knot tightly, as if sealing it away forever.
"Fine, don't look."
"Who cares about a block of wood like you anyway."
Her words were hard, like ice. But her hand remained on the pouch, clutching it tight, refusing to let go.
Outside, atop the roof ridge.
Shadow Blade lay silently in the shadows, merging with the night. He saw her tracing the wooden tag over and over, her expression as precious as if she were holding a piece of her heart.
No matter how hard he focused his vision, he couldn't see what was carved on it. Every move she made—staring blankly at the tag, smiling, sighing in frustration, and even that final spiteful "Who cares"—fell perfectly into his ears.
For a fleeting, absurd moment, a thought crossed his mind—Could that thing be...
But in the next heartbeat, he let out a cold, internal sneer, crushing the thought. The image of the Third Young Master's whispers and her blushing face that night filled his head.
"How could it possibly have anything to do with me?" he mocked himself.
His hand gripped the edge of the cold roof tiles. Due to his extreme restraint, his knuckles turned a ghastly white under the moonlight. The sharp edge of the tile dug deep into his palm, bringing a piercing pain, but he found the pain welcome; it kept him sober.
He watched her put the pouch away, watched her blow out the lamp, and watched the warm orange glow vanish from the window. Darkness reclaimed the courtyard. It reclaimed him.
Shadow Blade closed his eyes. Her tender expression as she touched that tag flashed repeatedly in his mind, along with those heartbreaking words: "Something meant for an extremely important person."
His throat tightened, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of bitter sand. A while later, a cold wind swept past. On that empty roof, he whispered to the void of the moonlight:
"...Since your heart already has a master."
"Then why should I bother anymore."
As the words fell, his silhouette vanished into the night, leaving only the cold wind to brush wordlessly over the eaves.