Xiao Nanyuan suddenly stopped appearing for several days.
On the first day, Bai Qingxue didn't pay much mind to it. Perhaps the child was simply unwell, or perhaps there was business to attend to in the royal palace.
The second day passed, and she did not come.
The third day came and went, yet she was still absent.
She continued to pour an extra cup of tea on the stone table. When it went cold, she would discard it and pour another.
Bai Qingxue didn't brew tea every day, but whenever she did, she always poured a second cup.
During those three days, she brewed tea once, setting a cup at the corner of the table. She waited until the twilight faded, but no one came.
On the fourth day, Bai Qingxue went to the royal palace.
To Bai Qingxue, every time the child visited, she was like a bird released from a cage, fluttering her wings; she wouldn't lock herself away willingly.
Bai Qingxue did not send word ahead, nor did she wait for an audience.
By the time the guards spotted her, she had already stepped through the palace gates.
Her frost-white True Disciple uniform glinted coldly in the morning light. The Shuanghua sword hung at her waist, and her silver-white hair was pinned up with a white jade hairpin.
The guards recognized her and didn't dare block her path, instead running ahead to report her arrival.
The King of Nanhuai received her in the main hall.
He wore dark red casual attire; his crown was missing, and his hair was somewhat disheveled. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days.
Upon seeing Bai Qingxue enter, he stood up and bowed, his waist bending lower than usual.
“The Immortal Master’s arrival honors us. This king has failed to welcome you properly.”
Bai Qingxue did not return the gesture, nor did she offer any pleasantries.
“Where is Xiao Nanyuan?”
The King of Nanhuai’s fingers twitched slightly.
He straightened up and glanced at Bai Qingxue before lowering his gaze again.
The polite, gentle smile remained on his face, but a trace of panic that he couldn't hide flickered in the depths of his eyes.
“My daughter... she has been unwell lately and is resting in the palace. This king has already summoned the royal physicians.”
“What happened?” Bai Qingxue asked directly.
The King of Nanhuai’s smile froze.
He stood there, his lips moving as if to speak, but he swallowed his words back down.
His fingers rubbed against his sleeve as if weighing his words, or perhaps trying to summon his courage.
“Immortal Master, please understand. Nanyuan... it is indeed inappropriate for her to go out again. This matter... has nothing to do with the Immortal Master; it is internal royal business. This king...”
“The reason.”
The King of Nanhuai remained silent for a moment. He lowered his eyes, appearing to have reached a decision, and finally spoke.
“The Heir Apparent informed me... that Nanyuan’s frequent visits to your courtyard might disturb your cultivation.” His voice grew softer and softer as he continued. “I know it is nonsense, but... the Empress Dowager also spoke on the matter, and I found it difficult to...”
“It seems we have presumed too much.”
Bai Qingxue understood the reason now.
It was Xiao Chengyuan.
The Heir Apparent whom she had publicly declared 'unfit for cultivation.'
He had likely used his mother’s clan to find a pretext, using Xiao Nanyuan as a vent for his anger and to express his dissatisfaction with Bai Qingxue.
Without another word, Bai Qingxue turned and walked out of the main hall.
The King of Nanhuai was stunned for a moment before hurriedly chasing after her. “Immortal Master! Immortal Master, where are you going?”
Bai Qingxue did not answer.
The side hall lay deep within the palace.
Bai Qingxue didn't need to ask for directions; her spiritual sense had already locked onto Xiao Nanyuan’s aura.
She moved through corridors, past gardens, and through several palace gates.
When the guards saw her, some tried to intercept her, but they retracted their steps as soon as they moved.
The aura she exuded was terrifying.
Wherever she passed, the temperature plummeted, and the dew on the ground condensed into tiny beads of ice that sparkled coldly in the morning light.
No one dared to follow.
The door to the side hall was closed, with a copper lock hanging tightly from the rings.
A stale scent of dampness and mold wafted through the cracks, unlike anywhere else in the palace of Nanhuai.
No one cleaned here, no one visited, and even the wind couldn't find its way in.
Bai Qingxue stood before the door.
A faint sound came from behind it.
It sounded like something being bumped, or perhaps someone backing away.
Bai Qingxue did not knock.
She reached out, her fingertips touching the copper lock.
A chill surged from her fingers, spreading along the metal. A layer of white frost quickly formed, thickening until the lock core emitted a faint, brittle snap.
The lock core had been frozen until it cracked.
With a gentle pull, the lock fell from the ring and hit the ground with a dull metallic thud.
Frost shattered, scattering fine ice crystals across the floor.
Bai Qingxue pushed open the door.
The interior was dark.
The windows had been boarded up from the outside, allowing only a few thin slivers of light to filter through the cracks.
The air was thick with dust and dampness. A few pieces of old furniture were piled in the corners, covered in grime.
In a corner sat a narrow bed covered by a thin mattress, where a figure was huddled.
Xiao Nanyuan sat with her knees drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped around her shins.
Her hair was loose and unkempt, falling over the sides of her face and obscuring half of it.
Hearing the door open, she looked up.
Her face was deathly pale, with dark circles under her eyes even deeper than those from her cultivation sessions. Her lips were parched and peeling.
Then, she saw Bai Qingxue.
Her dark, well-like eyes suddenly lit up, as if someone had struck a match in the darkness.
Xiao Nanyuan’s lips moved, but no sound came out.
Her eyes grew red, yet she did not cry.
She simply stared at Bai Qingxue, her hands sliding down from her legs to brace herself against the edge of the bed as she slowly stood up.
She stood up—a movement that looked fast but was actually quite slow, for she was far too weak.
Bai Qingxue stood in the doorway and looked at her.
“Let’s go.”
Xiao Nanyuan nodded vigorously.
She leaned down to pick up the book Bai Qingxue had lent her, clutching it to her chest.
Then she navigated around the old furniture and walked across the dusty floor, one step at a time, toward the doorway.
When she reached Bai Qingxue, she stopped and looked up.
The morning light poured in from behind Bai Qingxue, falling over the girl.
Xiao Nanyuan squinted as the light stung her eyes, but she did not look away.
She reached out and gently grasped Bai Qingxue’s sleeve. She didn't pull hard, just held on lightly, as if afraid the other would vanish.
Bai Qingxue glanced down at the hand but did not pull away.
She turned and began to walk out.
Xiao Nanyuan followed closely behind, her hand never letting go of the sleeve.
Bai Qingxue’s pace was not fast, allowing Xiao Nanyuan to keep up without effort.
They walked through corridors, past gardens, and by the guards. No one dared to stop them.
The chill Bai Qingxue left in her wake had not yet dissipated, leaving a thin layer of frost on the ground. As Xiao Nanyuan stepped on the frost, her shoes made a soft, crunching sound.
She looked down at the frost beneath her feet, her lips curling slightly into a faint smile, though she felt a sudden urge to cry.
How many days had she sat in that dark room? She didn't know.
She had thought that was the end.
She thought she would sit there until no one remembered her, until she forgot who she was herself.
But fortunately, someone had come. Fortunately, someone still remembered her.
Bai Qingxue walked ahead of Xiao Nanyuan at a steady pace.
She didn't know what the girl was thinking, and she didn't ask.
She led Xiao Nanyuan out of the palace, through the long streets, and back to the guest courtyard.
The courtyard gate stood open. On the stone table, two cups sat side by side—one large, one small. The tea was cold.
Bai Qingxue sat down on the stone bench.
Xiao Nanyuan stood beside her, her hand still clutching the sleeve.
Bai Qingxue glanced down at the hand once more.
Then she picked up the teapot and poured two fresh cups of tea. She placed one before herself and pushed the other toward Xiao Nanyuan.
“Drink,” she said.
Xiao Nanyuan let go of the sleeve and sat on the stone bench, cupping the tea with both hands.
She lowered her head and took small sips.
As she drank, her shoulders began to tremble.
It wasn't from the cold; it was the release of emotions she had suppressed for so long.
She made no sound, but her shoulders shook, and droplets hung from her eyelashes—it was impossible to tell if they were from the steam of the tea or something else.
Bai Qingxue watched her silently.
In the end, this had started because of her. Xiao Chengyuan’s grudge was against her; Xiao Nanyuan was merely an innocent child caught in the crossfire.
Xiao Nanyuan finished the tea.
She looked up at Bai Qingxue. Her eyes were still dark, but the 'water in the well' had been drawn up; they were wet and shimmering.
“Immortal Sister,” she whispered, her voice raspy from disuse.
Bai Qingxue did not respond.
Xiao Nanyuan waited a moment and whispered again, “Immortal Sister.”
Bai Qingxue set down her cup. “Go wash your face.”
Xiao Nanyuan blinked, then nodded vigorously. She hopped off the bench and ran into the house. A moment later, the sound of splashing water could be heard—gentle, as if she were washing her face, or perhaps wiping her eyes.
Bai Qingxue sat at the stone table, looking at the empty courtyard entrance.
The water in the teapot had grown lukewarm.
She looked up at the old locust tree, watching its leaves fall one by one.
Autumn was coming to an end. She didn't know how much longer she would remain in Nanhuai.
But since she was still here, she would protect this child for a while longer...
If only to prevent anyone else from suffering in her stead.
Bai Qingxue withdrew her gaze, discarded the old tea, added new leaves, and poured in hot water.
Steam rose from the teapot, curling and drifting away into the twilight.
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