Xiu Zhao removed his boots right there, the chill of the floor crawling up his feet.
He walked to the bed and sat down, his body weary, his gaze lost in the void.
"Who are you?" he murmured, eyes fixed on a shadow in the corner of the room.
"Hahaha... looks like I've been found."
The voice was low and feminine, carried by a dark smile.
She stepped out from the shadows — a woman of eerie beauty, crimson lips, and eyes sharp enough to wound.
"Answer my question!" he demanded, voice sharp, fists clenched.
"Don't you remember me, Xiu Zhao?"
She approached slowly, like poison seeping through veins. Her fingers brushed his face, long black nails catching the light.
"If I knew you, I wouldn't be asking." he replied with cold arrogance.
His brow furrowed as her face leaned closer.
"I'll make you remember."
Her smile widened — a blade. She pushed him down by the chest, forcing him to lie back.
"Hey! Are you insane?" Xiu Zhao tried to rise, but she gripped his wrist with unnatural strength.
He struggled, twisting to break free — and in that chaos, she pressed her lips against his.
Time shattered.
Xiu Zhao's eyes widened — shock, disgust, fear.
He tried to fight her off, but her hold was brutal, her kiss wild and invasive.
It wasn't affection — it was domination.
Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, and every breath he took felt like drowning.
And then — that feeling.
That same sickening familiarity.
It was the nightmare.
The one from three years ago.
…
"Wretched woman!"
His fist slammed against the table — wood cracked under the blow.
Everyone turned to him. Chen Yi radiated dark golden energy, fury blazing through his veins.
He stood up in one violent motion.
"Where do you think you're going?" the Emperor's voice thundered.
"To kill someone." he replied without hesitation.
"You're not going anywhere. Sit down."
The Emperor's eyes were daggers.
They stared at each other — father and son — until the air itself grew heavy.
Finally, Chen Yi sat, jaw clenched, untouched food before him.
"Eat." the Emperor ordered.
"I've lost my appetite." he said coldly.
"If you don't eat now, you'll go without for a long time."
"Eat!" commanded the Empress, her voice gentle beneath the translucent veil hiding her face.
"I said I'm not hungry!"
His palm struck the table — the sound reverberated through the hall.
"So be it. You'll go a week without food!" the Empress shouted, slamming her hand down as well.
Her golden hair shifted like flames beneath her crown.
Some women at the table laughed — mocking, unaware of the storm before them.
…
Xiu Zhao gasped for air.
The woman was gone.
He wiped his mouth, his face, his whole body — as if trying to scrape off her touch.
He stripped down to his inner robes and lay back on the bed.
For the first time in three years, he cried.
Tears burned his skin.
They soaked his robes, his pillow, the floor beneath.
His sobs were soft — fragile echoes swallowed by the night.
…
Chen Yi's heart ached watching him.
Even from afar, he could feel his little one's pain.
"Hold on, my love…" he whispered. "I'll kill that wretch myself."
His fists trembled — veins bulging with rage.
Golden light flared around him, heavy and furious.
The others trembled at the sight.
"Wipe that scowl off your face," the Emperor snapped.
"Fuck off." Chen Yi muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Tsk." The Emperor's tongue clicked sharply in response.
…
Dawn broke faintly.
Xiu Zhao slept, his face streaked with dry tears.
He shivered beneath the blanket, curling into himself like a small creature trying to survive the cold.
When morning came, someone knocked on his door.
"Mhm…" he mumbled, stirring.
The knocking continued — relentless.
Frustrated, he rose and opened the door with a sudden motion.
"What is it?!" he barked, voice hoarse with anger.
"I… I just came to call you for breakfast," Yi Tian stammered, avoiding his gaze.
"I'm not hungry."
"O-okay…"
Yi Tian bowed his head and walked away quietly.
Xiu Zhao shut the door and returned to bed, sleeping until afternoon.
When he awoke, he dressed in a pale cyan robe.
Before the mirror, he brushed his hair, tied it back with a red cord, and wiped his face with a damp cloth.
Finally, he put on his boots and stepped outside.
The sky was gray — thick with snowclouds.
He wandered the corridors, silent as a ghost, until reaching the veranda.
Sitting down, he watched the snow beneath his feet.
"How are my roses?" he whispered, eyes on the white mound in the garden.
Snow began to fall harder — large flakes swirling like ash.
He stood, walking slowly through the mansion.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
No servants. No sound.
He checked Madame Sheng's chambers — empty.
"They must be in the hall." he murmured, closing the doors.
Following the faint sound of voices, he approached the hall.
The moment he pushed the doors open, silence fell.
"Xiu Zhao?!" someone gasped.
"It's Xiu Zhao!" another voice cried, full of relief.
Ling Xu rushed toward him — but he stepped aside, dodging her embrace.
"Xiu Zhao?" she whispered, confused, trying to touch him.
"Don't touch me."
His tone was ice, his eyes empty.
Her tears welled up instantly.
"What happened, Xiu Zhao?" Hua Xu stood, concern etched across his face.
"Why don't you want her to touch you?"
He reached toward the boy — but Xiu Zhao recoiled.
Hua Xu's hand froze midair before retreating slowly.
He sat back down.
The air was thick.
No one dared breathe.
Xiu Zhao pulled a chair and sat.
"You found me quickly. Impressive." he said coldly, eyes flicking to King Chao — whose presence he hadn't noticed until then.
"Your Majesty."
The Sheng family exchanged startled looks, kneeling along with the guards and servants.
"Rise." commanded the tyrant, voice like iron.
All obeyed.
"How did you find me?" Xiu Zhao asked.
"We formed a search team. Looked across Lao and my kingdom," the king replied.
"And what brings you here?"
"This was the last city we hadn't searched. Since one of my generals lives here—"
"You came seeking help." he finished the thought, voice laced with disdain.
Hua Xu and Ling Xu said nothing.
She had already wiped her tears, but guilt lingered.
"When will you return home?" Xu Mei asked softly, trying to ease the tension.
"As soon as possible."
"Then let's go now," Ling Xu snapped.
"Let's." Xiu Zhao replied, eyes sharp.
"Fine! Maybe we can drop you off at your mother's—"
"Repeat that."
His palm slammed against the table.
"Who do you think you are, huh?" he hissed, pointing a trembling finger at her.
Everyone froze.
Ling Xu's eyes flooded with tears.
"I… I thought she might be worried about you…" she stammered, voice breaking.
"She's dead. Happy now?"
The words came out like ice.
Shock rippled through the room.
"His mother… is dead?" Hua Xu thought, his expression blank with disbelief.
"I-I didn't know. I'm sorry…" whispered Ling Xu.
He ignored her apology.
She wiped her tears in silence.
"Let's go home," Hua Xu said firmly.
The children stood, distant from each other.
"Why not wait until the storm passes?" asked General Sheng.
"That won't be necessary." Hua Xu's voice was resolute.
"I hope we meet again, Xiu Zhao," Madame Sheng said with a kind smile.
He only nodded.
In the next instant, Hua Xu's power enveloped them — fragments of light dissolving into the air.
They reappeared before their mansion, snow raging around them.
Xiu Zhao walked ahead, his steps fast, shoulders tense.
Servants bowed as he passed, whispering, "Welcome home, young master."
He didn't respond.
His gaze drifted to the garden.
The roses were buried beneath the snow.
He stopped, staring for a long time.
"Could it be…" he murmured softly. "You're still alive."
A faint smile ghosted his lips.
And for the first time in years,
the silence felt almost gentle.