Chapter 153: Parting Sorrow.

Chapter 153: Dispelling Sorrows.

Huo Shiming was born into a family of privilege and prestige, enjoying luxury and privilege from childhood. At the age of three, his father had him formally named the heir to the marquisate. Wherever he went, he was surrounded by maids and servants, welcomed with open arms by relatives and friends.

Before the Huo family’s downfall, the greatest hardship he had ever endured was the rigors of martial training, and the harshest hardship he’d seen was the lives of the household servants.

Yet overnight, everything turned upside down.

His most admired father lost a battle, was dragged back to the capital, and thrown into the imperial dungeons. Relatives and friends who had once welcomed him with open arms now shunned the Huo family like the plague. The maids and servants, fearing for their own safety, could no longer be bothered to serve him—some even secretly bullied him.

Used to getting his way, Huo Shiming could not tolerate being mistreated by servants. He immediately broke into loud sobs and protests.

The servants, shocked, angry, and afraid, cursed him, saying he still dared to put on airs as the marquis’s heir in such dire times.

In the end, his mother rushed over and banished the servants from the estate.

But when he asked when his father would return home, his mother could only hold him and wept in silence.

Fortunately, his father did return—bearing the scars of battle.

Yet from then on, the capital ceased to be home, and the grand estate in the capital no longer belonged to the Huo family.

Huo Shiming was led out of the estate by his father, Huo Yingshao. Reluctantly looking back, he saw only the massive vermilion gates creaking shut before his eyes.

He boarded a carriage with his father and began the journey to Yanxi.

Yanxi was a bleak, unforgiving wasteland with harsh weather. It lacked abundant resources or beautiful scenery.

From the heights, the view stretched, revealing only endless yellow sand.

Anyone suddenly struck by family misfortune and driven from the capital to Yanxi would find it hard to stay calm—let alone a five-year-old Huo Shiming.

The Huo family lineage did not consist of him alone.

Below him were a younger brother and a younger sister.

Yet, within the first year of arriving in Yanxi, both his siblings succumbed to illness one after another.

His mother had not cried when she heard of his father’s defeat on the battlefield, nor when she followed his father into exile in Yanxi. But after losing two children in succession, she could no longer endure. After years confined to her sickbed, she too was gone.

Huo Shiming’s memories of those years were shrouded in gray.

It seemed that after his father’s downfall, everything had spiraled out of control, becoming unrecognizable.

A once happy and harmonious family shattered in an instant, leaving only him and his father to rely on each other.

And his father, though fortunate to survive that great battle, was left with hidden injuries that made it impossible for him to return to the battlefield or the imperial court.

Thus, naturally, his father placed all his hopes on Huo Shiming.

By his teenage years, Huo Shiming had already tasted the fickleness of human relationships.

Families that had been close to the Huo clan for generations either shut their doors to him outright when he visited again,

or, if not so ruthless, didn’t receive him as family but like some common servant.

If such fickleness of human nature mostly wounded his pride, it was only when Huo Shiming reached the age of entering officialdom that he truly experienced what it felt like to face rejection at every turn.

Many soldiers died in that crushing defeat years ago.

Quite a few of them came from distinguished families, having joined the army to follow Huo Yingshao and burnish their reputations.

Yet Great Yan's forces crumbled like a house of cards, and most of these scions of noble houses, who had sought to gild their reputations at the frontlines, died in battle.

Though the defeat could not be entirely blamed on Huo Yingshao, and though both he and the Huo family had already paid dearly for it, but at the end of the day, Huo Yingshao had been the commanding general.

While the imperial court let the Huo family off, those who had lost loved ones on the battlefield were unwilling to see the Huos rise again.

They didn’t even need to take direct action—just a word to their subordinates was enough to ensure many were eager to throw obstacles in Huo Shiming's path.

No matter how hard Huo Shiming pulled strings and maneuvered, he could never escape the confines of tiny Yong'an County.

In his final moments, his father could no longer speak. Clutching Huo Shiming’s arm, his frail body mustered surprising strength, but his eyes remained fixed on the window.

Huo Shiming didn’t need to turn around to know what his father was looking at.

It was the direction of the capital.

But that burst of strength was fleeting—in an instant, the grip on Huo Shiming’s arm slackened.

His father’s hand slowly loosened and fell, his eyes wide open, gazing blankly.

With trembling hands, Huo Shiming closed his father’s eyes.

He knew his father had died with unfinished business.

...

The howling north wind carried swirling snow, occasionally striking the window paper with sharp, piercing sounds.

When Huo Shiming was jolted awake by the cold at dawn, he realized he had dreamed of the past again—of his life's greatest dread.

The bedding in the study was thinner than in the bedroom.

The charcoal brazier in the corner had long since lost its warmth, leaving the study cold as a tomb. A draft seeped in through the cracks—perhaps he had forgotten to close the window properly before bed.

Huo Shiming hated western Great Yan, especially its winters.

The winters here brought endless blizzards and yellow sand. Even bundled in the thickest clothing, the wind still cut to the bone.

The winters in the capital were, of course, much milder.

But perhaps, having grown accustomed to western Great Yan’s climate, Huo Shiming found himself restless during his year in the capital.

His entire life seemed to ping-pong between these two places—the capital and western Great Yan.

His rises and falls, his joys and sorrows, all lay within those few hundred miles.

Huo Shiming kicked off the blankets, put on his shoes and socks, and just threw on a cloak over his shoulders.

He walked to the window, intending to shut it tightly, but a glance out of the corner of his eye caught the spot where the stray cat had fallen the day before.

The cat’s body had already been discreetly removed and disposed of by Kong Yi.

As for the poisoned meal, Huo Shiming never breathed a word about it.

The security forces of the Duke of Chengen's residence had been entirely taken over by the imperial guards. He had just claimed he'd been poisoned—who knew what might happen next? It was better to lay low for now to avoid tipping anyone off.

Suddenly, the sound of gongs and drums rang out outside.

Today was the 50th birthday of Sang Xuanqing's granduncle. Although the war was raging at the front, it would drag on for at least six months. It was impossible to completely ban ordinary celebrations like weddings, funerals, or birthday festivities.

At first, Granduncle Sang hadn’t planned on hosting a grand banquet.

While the court did not prohibit officials from holding normal celebrations, the Sang family held a special status, and the uncle feared attracting trouble.

It was his eldest granddaughter, Sang Xuanqing, who talked him into seeking the Empress Dowager's approval.

"If it were any other birthday, I wouldn’t urge you, Grandfather. But a fiftieth birthday is a big deal. We’ve only just arrived in the capital and haven’t found our footing. If we don’t even hold a banquet for such an occasion, what will others think of us?"

"They won’t see the Sang family as modest and proper—they’ll assume we lack influence and underestimate us."

"If you’re worried about gossip, Grandfather, you could tell Her Majesty that all gifts received at the banquet will be donated to the court as the Sang family’s contribution to the war effort."

"This could also set an example for the nobility in the capital."

Armed with this reasoning, Sang's uncle sought the Empress Dowager’s approval and, as expected, received her consent.

Today happened to be a rest day, and many officials braved the snow and wind to personally deliver gifts and offer their congratulations.

Imperial gifts flooded in nonstop, including a special edict just for Sang Xuanqing.

The edict’s content was simple: for her valuable advice, she was to be honored as a model noblewoman and granted the title of County Lady.

Guests at the banquet pressed for details about the so-called "meritorious counsel," silently seething at the Sang family’s scheming for using this opportunity to gain favor.

The Sang family’s celebrations went on from morning till night.

Huo Shiming sat by himself in his courtyard, listening to the revelry next door from morning till evening, without so much as a sip of water or a bite of food.

Only when the Sang family’s celebrations finally quieted did Huo Shiming push himself up slowly, leaning on the stone table.

His body was half-frozen, especially his legs, which had lost all sensation.

He shrugged it off, casually brushing the snow off his shoulders before dragging his stiff legs into his bedroom.

He did not light a lamp but instead felt his way along the wall to a corner. He tapped and twisted in a precise sequence, revealing a narrow secret door barely wide enough for one person.

Huo Shiming stepped forward slowly, pushed open the door, and pulled out a fire striker from his robe.

His goal was clear—he headed straight for the northwest corner of the hidden chamber and moved aside a half-person-tall cabinet.

Drawing a dagger from his robe, he pried open a loose brick and retrieved a palm-sized box.

Inside the box was a secret medicine Huo Shiming had obtained from a Western merchant while still in Yanxi.

It was called "Parting Sorrow."

A white powder, at first, it seemed like just a cold. After half a month, the condition would rapidly deteriorate, and within two months at most, the victim would be past saving.

***

The Duke of Chengen had fallen ill.

According to the imperial guards watching over him, the Duke had not risen for his meal. When servants grew suspicious and entered to check, they found him feverish and unconscious.

After all, the Duke of Chengen was the Empress Dowager’s birth father and a first-rank duke of the Empire.

If he were to die quietly from the fever, all the servants in the mansion and the guards stationed outside would likely be punished with death.

So, upon discovering that the Duke of Chengen was running a high fever and unconscious, someone immediately went to fetch the most renowned physician in the capital, while another galloped to the palace to deliver the news.

The messenger stood at the palace gates, waiting nervously for a reply from within.

Fortunately, the palace did not punish him but instead sent two imperial physicians along.

By the time the messenger returned to the Duke of Chengen's residence with the two physicians, they happened to bump into the doctor coming out of the inner chamber.

"How is the situation, doctor?"

The physician shook his head: "Not good. I applied acupuncture, but the fever still hasn’t subsided."

The two imperial physicians wasted no time. After a quick nod to the doctor, they bypassed him and entered the inner chamber.

The eldest of the two, Imperial Physician Hu, was responsible for checking the Duke of Chengen’s pulse.

The moment his fingers touched the pulse, Imperial Physician Hu couldn’t help but look up and examine the Duke of Chengen’s pallor.

He had met the Duke of Chengen before.

Back then, though the Duke was getting on in years, he was still a towering figure with a thunderous voice and a purposeful stride—clearly a military officer long stationed at the border.

But now, he was emaciated, with sunken cheeks, poor appetite, and a heart weighed down by sorrow. No wonder he had fallen so gravely ill after catching a chill.

Fortunately, the Duke of Chengen had a strong constitution in the past. Though the illness initially appeared severe, after applying needles and getting a dose of medicine into him, his fever finally eased a little.

Imperial Physician Hu addressed the attending servants: "If the fever doesn’t spike again in the latter half of the night, his condition can be considered stable."

Fang Shi didn’t hear the news until the following day.

The most critical phase of Huo Shiming’s illness had passed, but he remained weak and had yet to regain consciousness.

Upon learning this, Fang Shi was beside herself and had her belongings packed so she could return to care for Huo Shiming.

Huo Ze also insisted on returning to help tend to his father.

But Fang Shi talked him out of it.

"After so many years of marriage, if I don’t return to care for him in his grave illness, what would people think of me?

"As for you, his son, his condition has already stabilized. There’s no need for you to attend to him just yet. My return can help manage the household and discipline any unruly servants—what could you do if you went back?

"You and your wife should stay here peacefully. I’ll go back first to sound out your father. If his anger has subsided, you can bring your wife and son back for the New Year’s reunion dinner.

"Even if only for little A Xing’s sake, he wouldn’t outright kick you out."

Only then did Huo Ze relent.

When Huo Shiming awoke from his illness and saw Fang Shi sitting by his bedside, he thought his eyes were deceiving him.

As Huo Shiming later put it:

"At that time, I truly thought I was going to die. Ah, after brushing shoulders with death, what else is there to cling to? Wealth and power are fleeting—you can’t take them with you in life or death. To let such things turn family against one another is simply not worth it."

Fang Shi teared up at his words: "It’s good that the master has come to understand this."

Having narrowly escaped death, it’s easy to have an epiphany.

When the imperial physician announced that Huo Shiming was out of danger, he immediately holed up in his study and stayed there the entire day.

Fang Shi, worried about his health, went in to check on him and told him to take it easy, advising that everything else could wait until he fully recovered.

Huo Shiming sighed deeply, "This can’t wait."

Fang Shi asked, "What’s more important than your health?"

After a long silence, Huo Shiming finally replied, "I intend to personally write a letter of apology to Her Majesty."

He set down his brush and rubbed his sore wrist.

"The previous letter was written by A Ze on my behalf, which was not quite right. The officials would surely talk about Her Majesty."

"Only if I write it myself can I avoid dragging Her Majesty’s name through the mud with my crimes."

"You..."

Fang Shi opened her mouth but ultimately said nothing more, quietly having another brazier brought in to prevent him from catching another chill.

Huo Shiming locked himself away in his study for three full days.

Since he was still confined to his home, the lengthy ten-thousand-word letter was eventually delivered to the palace by the guards stationed at his gate.

The palace accepted the letter but kept silent about it.

Huo Shiming didn’t lose heart. He said to Fang Shi, "I must have hurt that child deeply in the past. If she refuses to forgive me, I’ve got it coming as a father."

Fang Shi thought to herself that this illness had changed him way too much.

Still, it was ultimately a good thing.

No matter what the master really felt, he should never show any resentment toward Her Majesty the Empress Dowager on the surface.

—This was also something the master had once advised her.

***

There was still no news from Wu Feng, but before the New Year, good news arrived from the northern front of Great Yan.

Zhou Jiamu set a trap for Great Mu’s army outside the city. Lieutenant General Feng Xin walked into the trap and died, throwing Great Mu’s troops into disarray. Of the thirty thousand troops, only four thousand made it out, while the rest were either captured or killed.

Moreover, Zhou Jiamu had already been in touch with Wu Feng and knew the purpose of his infiltration into Great Mu. After beheading Feng Xin, he had rumors spread throughout Great Mu.

The commander, Xiao Guoying, was the maternal uncle of Great Mu's crown prince, while Lieutenant General Feng Xin was the father-in-law of the second prince. The two had long had bad blood over the succession.

Feng Xin should not have fallen into Great Yan's trap, but Xiao Guoying deliberately stuck him with the toughest job on purpose to weaken his influence.

When Feng Xin was surrounded, Xiao Guoying refused to send reinforcements, leaving him for dead.

Feng Xin failed to break through and died for his country.

...

In any case, it was true that Xiao Guoying did not send reinforcements, and it was also true that Feng Xin died in battle.

Zhou Jiamu simply spun the truth.

If the enemy believed it, it wasn’t because the rumor was particularly credible—only because they already harbored suspicions.

Xiao Guoying executed several men in the army to just barely suppress this wave of suspicion.

...

Upon seeing this battle report, the court officials were overjoyed.

Ji Xianshan, beaming with delight, privately said to Huo Ling, "General Zhou has what it takes to be a commander.

"And this general named Qin Hu—really lives up to his name as a fierce warrior of our dynasty."

Qin Hu, the top scorer of that year's Martial Exam, had been Zhou Jiamu's right-hand man since following him to Northern Yan, known for being exceptionally brave.

This time, it was Qin Hu who led the charge, disrupting the enemy's formation and cutting Feng Xin down with one swing of his halberd, throwing the enemy troops into panic and stripping them of any will to fight. Thus, the Northern Yan Army achieved this resounding victory, nearly wiping out the enemy forces.

Huo Ling remarked, "Qin Hu's performance was indeed outstanding and deserves the highest merit."

She was also very pleased with Zhou Jiamu's stratagem of sowing discord.

With the New Year approaching, the palace always held a banquet on New Year's Eve to entertain court officials and noblewomen. This great victory added even more joy to the already festive atmosphere.

The banquet was still organized by the Noble Dowager Consort and Dowager Consort Shu.

Logically, after years of jointly organizing the banquet, the two Dowager Consorts knew the routine by heart, and nothing should have troubled them.

Yet, one thing really bothered them: whether to invite the Duke of Chengen and the Duchess of Chengen to the banquet!

The relationship between the Empress Dowager and the Huo family was a bit complicated, and they didn't want to upset her on such a joyous occasion as New Year's Eve.

But based on their rank and status, the Duke and Duchess of Chengen were definitely on the guest list—and seated quite prominently at that.

In the end, the Noble Dowager Consort steeled herself and went directly to Shouning Palace to seek the Empress Dowager's instructions.

She came back quickly.

Dowager Consort Shu, who'd been waiting anxiously, hurried forward and asked, "What did Her Majesty say?"

The Noble Dowager Consort let out a sigh of relief. "Her Majesty said to just follow protocol."

That meant she had agreed to the Duke and Duchess of Chengen attending the banquet.

Once the palace finalized the guest list, invitations were sent to each household.

Fang Shi was both surprised and delighted to find herself included. She immediately got busy arranging for a tailor to measure her for new clothes.

***

Huo Shiming said, "You must wear the formal attire of a Duchess to the banquet."

Fang Shi gave him a look. "Of course I know that."

Huo Shiming asked, "Then why have new clothes made?"

Fang Shi replied, "We haven't had a tailor come to measure us for new clothes this year. With the New Year approaching, we should at least have a few new outfits made for you and me."

Getting annoyed with his questions, Fang Shi waved him off. "Enough, enough. Leave these matters to me. Go and rest."

Huo Shiming came up with an excuse to go to his study and sent for Kong Yi.

Kong Yi had a refined and slender appearance, as gentle and courteous as ever.

Huo Shiming looked at him, his eyes tinged with unreadable complexity.

Kong Yi, unsettled by the unexplained scrutiny, couldn't help but speak up.

"General?"

Huo Shiming concealed the oddity in his gaze and said calmly, "Can our people sneak that item into the palace wine cellar without anyone noticing?"

Kong Yi replied, "Rest assured, General. I have already bribed the necessary individuals to ensure everything goes off without a hitch."

Huo Shiming closed his eyes. After a long pause, he exhaled heavily and took out his token from the drawer. "Then let our people move into action."

Kong Yi saluted in acknowledgment. Seeing that Huo Shiming had no further instructions, he silently retreated from the secret room while maintaining his respectful posture.

Only after stepping outside did Kong Yi straighten up again.

He smoothed his sleeves with his fingertips, his originally scholarly demeanor suddenly twisting into a cold smirk.

***

The palace banquet was always grand but was more pomp than fun—even the New Year's feast was no exception. However, with the recent major victory on the frontlines, everyone's smiles seemed especially genuine.

Once seated, the guests realized there was an unexpected drama to witness.

As both imperial relatives, the seats of the Duke of Chengen and the Sang family were adjacent.

This was the first time the Duke of Chengen had appeared in public since the major court session.

While sipping tea and chatting, the guests couldn’t help but keep stealing glances in that direction, curious whether "enemies" meeting would make sparks fly.

To everyone's surprise, Huo Shiming was surprisingly cordial, even raising a toast to Uncle Sang.

"I’ve long heard of my cousin’s return to the capital, but unfortunately, I’ve been recuperating at home and missed the chance to meet. Here, let me propose a toast to apologize for my absence."

Uncle Sang, unsure of Huo Shiming’s intentions, raised his cup in return, playing along politely.

This year’s banquet featured no dance performances, only musicians from the Court Music Office playing melodies in the background.

Their repertoire included not only traditional court music but also rousing war anthems.

Ji Xianshan’s taste for the arts was clearly inherited from the late emperor, though unlike his father’s preference for calligraphy and painting, he had a greater fondness for music.

After listening attentively to the entire piece, he happened to see the Minister of Personnel, Lu Hang, step forward to offer a toast.

Following Lu Hang’s lead, many others also left their seats to offer New Year’s toasts to the Empress Dowager and the Emperor.

Uncle Sang was also eager to join.

Glancing at Huo Shiming beside him, he hesitated before extending an invitation. "Would the Duke of Chengen care to join me?"

Huo Shiming looked pained. "You go ahead, cousin. I... ah, never mind. I won’t go."

Uncle Sang’s mind filled in the blanks himself, but he took the hint and didn’t push, approaching the Empress Dowager.

Huo Ling greeted him warmly. "It’s been a while since I last saw you, Uncle. When Auntie and Xuanqing visited the palace earlier, I asked why you hadn’t come with them. Xuanqing said you were preparing New Year’s gifts for me?"

Uncle Sang, round-faced and cheerful, smiled like a jolly Buddha. "The Sang family owes everything to Your Grace’s kindness. I originally wanted to find some special gifts for you, but since everything we have comes from Your Grace’s generosity, using your gifts to buy presents for you would only earn me empty credit."

Those in trade might not excel in all things, but they were invariably silver-tongued.

Uncle Sang said, "The Sang family is in the liquor business, and over the years, we’ve collected some excellent recipes. I personally spent several days brewing a few jars of wine and would like to invite Your Majesty to taste it."

"Since it’s Uncle’s kind gesture, then—someone, go fetch the wine."

The New Year's gifts from the ministers had already been cataloged and stored in the treasury. Upon the Empress Dowager’s order, a palace servant hurried to the wine cellar and soon returned with a small jug.

Wu Mo stepped forward to pour the wine but was motioned away by Huo Ling.

She poured two cups herself and said gently, "Since this is wine Uncle personally brewed for me, I shall toast Uncle myself."

Uncle Sang was both elated yet flustered, quickly reaching for the cup nearest to him.

Huo Shiming sat upright, his sideways glance fixed on Huo Ling and Uncle Sang. As Huo Ling raised her cup, his left hand resting on his knee slowly clenched, while his right hand gripping the wine cup unconsciously tightened, blanching his fingertips.

But even as Huo Ling drank the wine, Huo Shiming took no action.

He merely loosened his painfully clenched fist in silence, downed his cup, and slammed it down.

"Fine wine!"

Fang Shi was startled. "If it’s fine wine, then it’s fine wine—no need to yell."

Huo Shiming grabbed the wine jug to pour another drink, but it was empty.

A nearby attendant noticed and promptly brought a new jug.

In the latter half of the banquet, Huo Shiming stayed put, sitting and drinking alone.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, he said to Fang Shi, "I’m going to use the privy and clear my head."

Fang Shi supported him, complained, "The banquet is nearly over."

Huo Shiming waved her off impatiently. "You go wait in the carriage first."

As Fang Shi opened her mouth to protest, the attendant who had refilled Huo Shiming’s wine stepped forward to support him. "Rest assured, madam. I know the way and will escort the Duke of Chengen."

Led by the attendant, Huo Shiming walked some distance away, the clamor of the banquet fading behind him.

Not entirely drunk, Huo Shiming grew wary as the path grew darker and more secluded. "Haven’t we arrived yet?"

The attendant smiled faintly.

The next moment, a sharp pain struck Huo Shiming’s nape.

***

Huo Ling had always disliked palace banquets and would leave early—this time was no exception.

After drinking Uncle Sang’s toast, she excused herself, pleading lightheadedness from the wine.

The courtiers, accustomed to this, turned their attention to toasting Ji Xianshan alone.

By the banquet’s end, the last remnants of twilight had vanished into darkness. Ji Xianshan, walking with Xiao Fuzi to clear his head, looked up to see a sky full of stars.

Seized by inspiration, he decided to visit the Star-Gazing Terrace before heading to Shouning Palace to observe the vigil with the Empress Dowager.

But as they passed through a dimly lit path, Xiao Fuzi suddenly halted, shielding Ji Xianshan.

"What’s wrong?" Ji Xianshan whispered.

"Something’s not right ahead," Xiao Fuzi replied.

"Go check it out."

Xiao Fuzi moved like a shadow, making no sound. He went quickly and returned in a flash looking uneasy.

Ji Xianshan asked, "What did you see?"

Xiao Fuzi hesitated, but under Ji Xianshan’s urging, finally said, "I saw two eunuchs dragging someone toward the Cold Palace. I couldn’t see the person’s face clearly, but his attire... it looked like the ceremonial robes of a First-Rank Duke."

Ji Xianshan went still for a moment.

A First-Rank Duke...

You could count them on one hand in the Great Yan Dynasty.

Ji Xianshan suddenly ordered, "Send the trailing palace attendants away. Tell them I’m going to the Stargazing Platform and don’t need an entourage."

"But Your Majesty—"

"Go now!"

***

When Huo Shiming came to through the pain, muffled voices drifted to him.

"Is he in there yet?"

"What about the Duchess of Chengen? Did she notice anything unusual when she was escorted out?"

"Right. Don't let him out of your sight. I’ll go inform Her Ladyship."

Her Ladyship...

Her Ladyship!

Huo Shiming’s eyes flew open. In the dim moonlight filtering in, he could just discern the unfamiliar hall he was in.

He was sprawled on the floor, trussed up like a hog.

His fingers flexed weakly, scraping through dust thick enough to write in.

The fog lifted from his mind in an instant. As the memories of what had happened before he lost consciousness returned, sweat broke cold across his skin despite the winter chill, leaving him rattled.

Was he still in the palace?

Who had brought him here?

Just then, the tightly shut doors were pushed open from the outside.

A figure stepped in slowly, carrying a lantern, cloaked in moonlight.

The candlelight at the corner table sputtered to life.

The visitor raised a hand and pulled back the hood that had concealed most of their face, revealing eyes dark and still as a moonlit pond.

Huo Shiming struggled to lift his head, fighting to hold the newcomer’s gaze.

Silence.

Still silence.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment—or perhaps stretch endlessly, from past to present, scenes flashing before his eyes only to shatter like brittle illusions, leaving nothing but ash in his mind.

In that locked gaze, all unspoken words seemed to be laid bare.