Dai Chengfeng stood where he was, watching Ning Rongrong's flustered retreat, and let out a low, amused chuckle.
He remained in the courtyard a while longer—until night had fully fallen and stars began to glimmer one by one—before finally turning back to his own room.
---
Meanwhile, on the imperial road from Tian Dou City to Spirit City, an ornately decorated carriage rolled steadily through the night.
Inside, the cabin was spacious and comfortable, lined with thick velvet rugs. A candelabra sat fixed to the table, its flame flickering gently within a glass lantern.
Qian Renxue reclined against soft cushions, a book resting in her lap—but her gaze drifted beyond the window, following the receding night landscape. Clearly, her thoughts were elsewhere.
She wore a simple white dress, her golden hair loosely gathered at the nape, with stray strands framing her neck, catching the candlelight in a soft, luminous glow.
Having shed the guise of Crown Prince of the Tian Dou Empire, she now seemed less regal, more like an ordinary young woman—gentler, more vulnerable.
"My Lady," came the respectful voice of a maidservant from outside the carriage, "we'll reach Spirit City in three days."
"I know," Qian Renxue replied absently, still gazing out the window.
Three days.
At the thought, her heartbeat quickened involuntarily.
She'd be back in Spirit City soon.
And soon… she'd see him again.
Dai Chengfeng's image surfaced in her mind—the boy who always wore that careless smile, whose eyes seemed to pierce through every pretense, and who sometimes revealed a depth far beyond his years.
A faint warmth rose to her cheeks.
She remembered the night before their parting—his whispered words in her ear, the promise she'd given in return.
Perhaps it had been impulsive then, driven by emotion—but now, looking back, she felt no regret.
Only… lingering shyness.
She was the Young Mistress of the Spirit Hall, a prodigy revered by thousands. She'd never imagined she'd become so entangled with a mere youth.
Yet love defied reason. By the time she realized it, he'd already carved out an irreplaceable place in her heart.
"I wonder… has he missed me?"
She murmured under her breath, fingertips tracing idle patterns across the page.
---
Night deepened. Spirit City lay bathed in silver moonlight.
Dai Chengfeng had just finished bathing. Dressed in loose white sleep robes, barefoot on the plush carpet, he walked to the window.
Outside, the newly risen moon cast a pale glow over the courtyard, draping everything in a dreamlike haze.
After standing there a moment, he turned and left his room—his figure melting soundlessly into the night.
Bibi Dong's private chambers lay deep within the Pope's Palace—the most heavily guarded area of the entire Spirit Hall.
But to Dai Chengfeng, every barrier here was meaningless—not only because of his familiarity with the layout, but because the guards had long been ordered to ignore his presence entirely.
Passing through long corridors and elegant courtyards, he arrived at the chamber door.
Without knocking, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room was quiet, lit only by a few wall sconces casting soft, warm light—enough to lend the vast space an intimate, tranquil atmosphere.
The air carried a faint trace of incense—Bibi Dong's favorite blend: refined, cool, and subtly sharp, much like the woman herself.
Dai Chengfeng glanced around. The chamber was empty.
He wasn't surprised. At this hour, Bibi Dong was usually still handling official matters or meditating in her training chamber.
He walked straight to the large bed and lay down, pulling the covers over himself.
The sheets carried her scent—subtle, pervasive, wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt the day's fatigue slowly ebb away.
He'd only meant to rest briefly while waiting for her return.
But the bed was warm, the sheets soft, the fragrance comforting—and after walking all afternoon with Ning Rongrong, he truly was tired. Before he knew it, his consciousness blurred, and he drifted into sleep.
---
Some time later, the chamber door opened quietly.
Bibi Dong entered, still clad in her Pope's ceremonial robes—though she'd removed the heavy crown, letting her long black hair cascade freely down her back.
Her face bore a faint trace of exhaustion—evidently just finished with a long day's duties.
She sat at the dressing table and began removing her earrings and necklace.
In the mirror, her breathtaking beauty was undeniable—but between her brows lingered a weariness she couldn't quite shake.
Once the jewelry was set aside, she rose and approached the bed, ready to change out of her formal attire.
But the moment she sat on the edge of the mattress, she sensed something was off.
Someone was in her bed.
Her eyes sharpened instantly—soul power coiling silently within her body, every sense on high alert.
Yet the next second, when she recognized the sleeping figure, all tension dissolved into exasperated tenderness.
Dai Chengfeng lay on his side, breathing deeply in peaceful slumber.
Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the sharp lines of his handsome face.
He looked utterly at ease—arm resting near his pillow, the other draped loosely at his side.
Bibi Dong watched him silently. The ice in her gaze melted, replaced by a softness even she didn't realize she possessed.
Careful not to wake him, she sat down gently and began unfastening her high heels.
They were exquisite—slender stilettos that accentuated the delicate curve of her ankles.
She undid the clasps with quiet precision, slipped them off, and placed her bare feet on the carpet.
Just then, she felt a pair of eyes on her.
Turning, she met Dai Chengfeng's open gaze.
He'd woken at some point—watching her with sleepy haziness that quickly cleared into awareness.
"Did I wake you?"
Her voice was softer than she intended.
Dai Chengfeng shook his head, propping himself up on one elbow. "No. I wasn't sleeping deeply anyway."
His eyes traveled from her face down to her bare feet.
Bibi Dong's feet were beautiful—pale, slender, with perfectly rounded toes. Against the dark carpet, they seemed almost luminous.
He reached out and gently took hold of her ankle.
She stiffened slightly—but didn't pull away.
His palm was warm against her cool skin, sending an oddly intimate shiver through her.
"Tired?" he asked, thumb stroking her anklebone.
"A little," she admitted, meeting his gaze.
He nodded, then tugged her foot closer.
Bibi Dong swayed, nearly toppling into his lap. She caught herself by bracing a hand on the bed—leaving her in a slightly awkward, vulnerable position.
Dai Chengfeng's smile widened.
"You insolent disciple," she chided, shooting him a glare—but there was no real anger in it.
"Only with you," he murmured.
With his free hand, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her fully onto his lap.
Bibi Dong landed squarely in his embrace. The closeness brought a faint blush to her cheeks.
She tried to rise—but his arms held her fast.
"Stop fooling around…"
Her protest was low, laced with reluctant indulgence.
Dai Chengfeng said nothing. He simply looked down at her—quiet, steady, and full of unspoken affection.
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