This mission was supposed to be simple.
It wasn't anymore.
The wide stone paths at the foot of Ying Mountain lay drowned in the night's silence. A gentle breeze stirred the peach trees above, petals drifting down in slow spirals.
Han Liang moved across the rooftops like a shadow.
Silent. Unseen.
He had been sent on a covert mission—to investigate the war supplies arriving from the West, and to discover who was purchasing them.
He should have been focused.
But then—
he noticed someone.
Below, near a small market stall, stood a young man in white.
The stranger moved calmly, lifting a jade comb as though it were something valuable, listening—not to voices, but to something deeper.
Han Liang slowed.
There was something… unusual.
Then Han Liang felt it—
a faint vibration, subtle as a heartbeat.
Below, Yuan Yu's fingers froze around the jade comb.
As his fingers brushed its surface, a strange sensation ran through him.
For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to quiet—
and fragments of an old poem surfaced before his eyes:
I'm listening from Ying Mountain,
I left the ruffians behind.
The white dragon descended from the clouds,
peach blossoms have fallen.
You and I would walk beneath the moon,
the cold winter embraced us.
The young master appeared with the jade stone,
and the sun illuminated the night.
Yuan Yu's lashes trembled.
He didn't understand it.
But the feeling lingered.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
His eyes met Han Liang on the rooftop.
Han Liang stilled.
Han Liang's night-blue eyes held Yuan Yu's gaze for a fleeting moment.
Below, Yuan Yu felt his breath falter.
And for the first time in years—Han Liang hesitated.
Time seemed to stand still. Even the falling petals hung suspended in the air, caught between breath and destiny.
They did not know each other's names.
They did not know who the other was.
Yet—
a silent question passed between them.
Who are you?
The moment broke.
He should have left without looking back.
He didn't.
Below, Yuan Yu remained standing, the jade comb still in his hand.
A strange warmth settled deep within his chest—half curiosity, half something he could not name.
He didn't understand it.
And that made it worse.
That night, without knowing it, they had both taken the first step into each other's lives.
And beneath the drifting peach blossoms—
something had already begun.
And neither of them could stop it.