The door closed softly behind them.
The sound of the latch clicking wasn't loud, but in the dead of night, it echoed with startling clarity. It felt like the conclusion of a ritual, severing the cold wind, the noise, and the weight of the world, leaving them safely sequestered inside.
The room was bathed in the warm, soft glow of flickering twin red candles, casting blurred and hazy shadows upon the walls. A thin wisp of warm smoke rose from the incense burner, carrying a faint, sweet fragrance that drifted through the air, softening one's spirit.
Chi Jiu stood just inside the door, her back as straight as a spear—ready to break, perhaps, but never to bend.
She had never known a room could be this quiet; so quiet that the rush of blood through her veins was audible. A mere step separated them, yet it felt like a distance guarded by ten thousand troops. She didn't turn around, but that steady, warm presence was slowly encircling her, leaving her with nowhere to retreat.
She clenched her fists secretly, her knuckles whitening with the effort. As if trying to summon courage, she forced out a topic, her voice impossibly soft. "...You should rest first. I'll go see if the water is hot."
She took half a step, but her wrist was suddenly caught.
The grip wasn't heavy, yet it possessed an undeniable warmth. It locked around her wrist, instantly making her freeze like stone. Xiao Zhan's fingers were long, and the heat from his fingertips seeped through her skin, causing her heart to tremble.
"Ning'er." Xiao Zhan's voice dropped behind her, lower and closer than before—so close his breath seemed to brush against her ear.
Chi Jiu's breath hitched. He continued in a slow, measured tone, "The water isn't urgent. Are you hiding from me?"
There was a hint of a smile in his voice, but it was so direct it left her no escape.
As if scorched by fire, Chi Jiu spun around abruptly. The movement was too fast; the distance between them closed instantly, and she nearly crashed into his chest.
Xiao Zhan, however, was prepared. He raised his hands and caught her steadily by the shoulders. His gaze was as deep as a midnight lake, watching her silently. Chi Jiu felt her chest tighten inch by inch, as if pulled by invisible threads.
"W-who's hiding from you?" Chi Jiu looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of desperation and annoyance.
"Then why—do you not even dare to look at me?" He leaned in slightly, his voice as light as the wind, yet it pierced through her defenses with precision.
Chi Jiu's heart lost its rhythm. Just as she would force herself to be calm on a battlefield, she tried to steady her mind and build a wall of ice. "I just feel it's unnecessary. The situation is unstable; my eldest brother hasn't returned, and the undercurrents in the court haven't been cleared. Now is not the time for us to be... distracted."
She spoke every word clearly, as if delivering a cold military report.
The air grew still for a moment as the red candles flickered. Xiao Zhan listened quietly. He didn't get angry or argue; instead, the emotion in his eyes grew deeper and softer than before.
"So, in Ning'er's heart, being close to me is a 'distraction,'" Xiao Zhan murmured. These words were like a soft blade, gently prodding at the most vulnerable part of Chi Jiu's heart.
In the next instant, Chi Jiu felt a gentle force at her waist. Without warning, she was drawn into a broad, warm chest.
Her nose pressed against his lapel. Her every breath was filled with his scent—steady, clean, with a hint of medicinal herbs and the chill of the night wind.
"Don't move," Xiao Zhan said softly. It didn't sound like a command, yet it was impossible to resist.
Chi Jiu froze. She could hear his heartbeat—thump, thump—steady and powerful, unlike her own, which was a chaotic mess.
"Everything you said, I know. The court, the Chu family, your brother... I care about them all just as much." Xiao Zhan's palm pressed gently against her back, his fingers tightening slightly. "But Ning'er, I am also one of your 'battles.'"
The words were almost a whisper, yet they sent a violent jolt through Chi Jiu. She looked up sharply, their noses nearly touching. Xiao Zhan looked at her without a trace of mockery; there was only a profound, concentrated affection in his eyes.
She stared at him, her breathing still erratic, but her gaze held firm, like a soldier guarding the last lonely fortress. The phrase echoed in her ears—I am also one of your battles.
Chi Jiu's throat tightened. A battle? She had executed countless missions—infiltrations, assassinations—where she brushed past death in milliseconds. But never had there been a "battle" like this one. No pointed guns, no ticking countdowns, yet it caused her spirit to lose its order and her path to disappear.
A flash of annoyance rose in her heart. Annoyance at herself for losing her composure over Auntie Mei's words, and annoyance at the man before her—for pressing her into a corner so righteously.
She was never one to retreat, even in a territory where she was completely unskilled.
Chi Jiu took a deep breath, suppressing her racing heart. In the next moment, she reached out and grabbed Xiao Zhan's lapel, her fingertips tightening with a fierce, decisive motion.
Xiao Zhan, clearly not expecting her to take the initiative, stiffened slightly. Chi Jiu used the leverage to step forward, forcing the distance between them down to a hair's breadth, close enough to feel the vibration of his chest.
"A battle?" She looked up at him, the remnants of her panic suppressed into a sharp, defiant stubbornness. She lowered her voice and spoke provocatively, "Then Your Highness is playing this game far too slowly."
The words escaped her before she could think. They weren't the restrained words she usually spoke, but in that moment, they brought a sense of reckless satisfaction. Since she couldn't retreat, she would attack.
Xiao Zhan looked down at her. The tenderness in his eyes slowly shifted, taking on a hint of a very dangerous smile. He leaned in until he was almost touching her lips, his low voice like a dull blade tracing slowly over her heart.
"Ning'er, are you—declaring war on me?"
Chi Jiu's heart stopped for a beat, but she didn't let go. In fact, she gripped his lapel even tighter, wrinkling the fabric. Forcing herself to maintain her momentum, she replied quickly, "And if I am? You said it was a battle. Do you expect to be the only one pressing forward while I am forbidden from striking back?"
This sentence finally found a rhythm she recognized. It was like facing an enemy, like a confrontation; for a split second, she almost believed she had regained control of the situation.
However, Xiao Zhan only looked at her. That unmoving silence was more unsettling than any action.
"I see," he said softly.
In the next moment, he suddenly raised his hand. Chi Jiu instinctively prepared to counter a move, but his hand didn't go for her pressure points. Instead, it rested gently over her hand on his lapel. His palm was warm and broad, his fingers closing to envelop her fist entirely.
Chi Jiu blinked. In that instant, the force she had intended for an attack felt like it had hit a bale of cotton, easily neutralized.
"In that case, I shall not be polite in this round."
Before the words had even faded, he gave a gentle pull. Chi Jiu's footing faltered, and she followed his lead, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. The movement was incredibly fast yet perfectly steady; he had practically shielded her as she landed.
By the time Chi Jiu realized what had happened, she was already sinking into the soft bedding, with Xiao Zhan standing over her, looking down.
The red candles flickered behind him, the play of light and shadow making his features look startlingly deep. Chi Jiu's chest tightened; this position was far too passive, too dangerous. She instinctively tried to rise, but he pressed down on her shoulders.
The pressure wasn't heavy, but the intent was as clear as a lock: he wouldn't let her go.
"Weren't you going to strike back?" Xiao Zhan looked down at her, his voice deep and magnetic, carrying a trace of undetectable teasing. "Why are you retreating first?"
Chi Jiu's breath hitched, her face burning. She gritted her teeth. She hated to lose, even between the bed curtains.
She lunged upward—this time, not grabbing his lapel, but catching Xiao Zhan's wrist directly. She used the leverage to stand, bringing them close once more. This time, she didn't look away.
"I didn't retreat," she whispered, her voice carrying a tremor she couldn't hide, but her eyes were brilliantly bright. "I'm just... changing my tactics."
The moment those words fell, the atmosphere between them changed completely. It was no longer a game of chase and escape, but a true collision of souls.
Xiao Zhan looked at her. In that moment, the smile in his eyes was no longer hidden; it spread slowly, like the deepest, most mesmerizing ripples in the night.
"Good," he answered softly, his tone holding a newfound seriousness and an unprecedented anticipation. "Then I shall wait for your move."
Inside the red curtains, a candle let out a tiny spark. This night, there were no swords, yet it was the most intense—and most tender—"battle" of their lives.