The next morning, Yu Xiao sat in her bedchamber, calmly brushing her long, lustrous hair that fell to her waist. She checked her appearance once more, then slipped on her shoes.
Moments later, Duan Han-Qing entered without ceremony, carrying an armful of robes and a black hanfu cloak with a hooded cape. He laid them neatly on the small table away from her bed, then stepped back, bowed deeply, and stood in silence—rigid yet respectful.
"My Lady," he said, voice low and steady, "these are gifts from the Northern Domain's storehouse. Please honour us by trying them."
Yu Xiao's comb paused mid-stroke. Gifts? Actual gifts chosen for her, not chains or prison garb? She set the comb down and padded barefoot across the cool floor, curiosity winning over caution.
The pile was beautiful: robes in muted moon-white, deep indigo, and smoky violet; outer coats embroidered with tiny protective arrays that shimmered faintly when the light caught them; and the black hooded cloak that had first drawn her eye—simple yet regal, perfect for hiding one's figure and spiritual presence on the road.
Her fingers brushed the cloak's fur trim. So soft.
"Are… all of these really for me?" The question came out smaller than she intended, almost childlike.
Han-Qing rose, the faintest smile warming his usually stern face. "Yes, my Lady. And these are merely a taste. When we reach Beiming Palace, the storehouses will open fully for you."
"Beiming… where was that?" She tilted her head. "How far is that exactly?"
"At the Northern Domain, four days by carriage if the weather holds," he replied. "Do not worry," Han-Qing reassured her gently. "A carriage has been prepared, and several cultivators will escort us to ensure our safety—especially yours."
Four days. A real journey. Not a prison transfer, but an actual journey under open sky.
Her heart gave an unexpected leap.
She exhaled. "All right. Will we take these things with us?"
"Of course." Han-Qing stepped closer and gestured over the table with an open hand. "Choose whatever you wish to wear now, my Lady. The rest will be packed."
Yu Xiao glanced down at the simple black hanfu she already wore, then back at him. A small, sincere smile touched her lips. "I think what I'm wearing is fine. But thank you—I like them. They're not too ornate. I prefer simple clothes; that has always been my taste."
She lifted the hooded cloak, letting it unfurl like dark wings. "I'll wear this one now."
Han-Qing's brows lifted a fraction—he had braced himself for indifference or rejection, not this sudden brightness. He watched as she thrust the cloak at him imperiously.
"Hold it open. Quickly!"
Amusement flickered in his eyes, gone as fast as it came. He obeyed at once, spreading the cloak so she could slip her arms inside. The heavy silk settled over her shoulders; she tied the silver cords at her throat, then spun in a slow circle, arms outstretched. The hem flared like liquid night.
"There," she declared, cheeks pink with pleasure. "Now no one can gawk at me on the road."
For a moment Han-Qing forgot protocol entirely. The ice-cold prisoner he had guarded for weeks had vanished. In her place stood a young woman radiating delight, twirling in a cloak two sizes too dramatic for daylight, utterly unselfconscious.
"So Her Majesty isn't truly cold-hearted after all," he thought. "Her real nature has simply been buried. When someone is kept in the dark for too long, even their heart grows shadowed."
The door slid open again.
Han-Yun entered carrying a small bundle wrapped in undyed cotton. He took one look at Yu Xiao mid-twirl, mouth parted in a delighted laugh, and nearly dropped the bundle.
"What… is going on?"
Han-Qing shot him a warning glance and pressed a finger to his lips.
Han-Yun swallowed whatever he had been about to say and simply stared. He had never seen her laugh—never imagined she could.
Yu Xiao finally noticed them. She stopped spinning, cheeks flushing darker, and cleared her throat with exaggerated dignity. "Ahem. What's that in your hands?"
Han-Yun recovered first. He bowed low, "My Lady, I bought this mirror from a vendor outside. I thought it suited you." Then he carefully unwrapped it and offered it to her. A palm-sized hand mirror framed in pale spirit-jade. Tiny protective runes glimmered along the rim.
Yu Xiao took it reverently. The surface was flawless. She angled it toward the window—and froze.
The face that looked back was hers, yet not the one she remembered from Earth. Sharper cheekbones, luminous skin, eyes like liquid obsidian flecked with starlight. She touched her reflection as though it might vanish.
The twins shifted uneasily.
"My Lady?" Han-Yun asked, worry creeping into his voice. "If it displeases you—"
Yu Xiao lowered her gaze, then looked up with a shy, almost embarrassed smile. "No… I love it. This is the first time I've seen my face in this world. I never imagined I could be this beautiful." She gave a small, happy snort.
Both brothers exhaled at the same time, tension melting from their shoulders.
After a moment, Yu Xiao's expression softened. "Thank you," she said sincerely, fingers tracing the mirror's edge.
Han-Yun stepped forward again. "There's one more thing, my Lady." He opened both palms. Resting atop them was a small, exquisite cube—five centimetres on each side—carved from pale, translucent white jade that seemed to glow from within.
Yu Xiao tilted her head, pointing at herself. "For me again?"
The twins smiled warmly.
She hesitated, then gently lifted the cube. Its surface was perfectly smooth except for the top face, where six tiny pastel gems formed the shape of an opening blossom.
With careful fingers, she opened it.
Inside lay a rose-gold ring fashioned like a six-petaled flower, each petal holding one coloured gem and a clear diamond dewdrop at its heart.
"Wow…" The word escaped her in a breath. She lifted the ring, eyes wide with wonder. "What kind of artifact is this? It's breathtaking."
She slipped it onto the middle finger of her right hand. It fit as though it had grown there.
Han-Yun bowed again. "It was made especially for you, my Lady."
"Really?" She stared at the ring, touching it reverently. "Why go to so much trouble?"
"This is a storage artifact," Han-Qing explained, stepping forward. "We call it the Ring of Moonlit Blossom—Lunyue Hua. A high-grade spatial artifact personally refined by the Third Elder of Beiming. Only one exists. Point your palm at anything you wish to store; when the ring glows, the item will be drawn inside. To retrieve something, simply think of it, and it will appear."
"Spatial?" She stared at her hand.
Yu Xiao's eyes went round. She spun toward the table piled with robes, thrust out her hand like a child discovering magic, a wave of gold-red light rippled across her hand, and every item vanished into the ring.
"I did it!" She jumped once, clapping her hands. "I have a pocket dimension on my finger! Take that, Mary Poppins!"
The twins had no idea who Mary Poppins was, but her joy was infectious.
"Now I can carry anything I want without worry. It's not just beautiful—it's incredibly useful!"
The twins exchanged relieved, happy glances. After all the strife of the past days, seeing her so genuinely joyful felt like their greatest victory yet.
Beneath that once-icy exterior was a girl who was, in truth, utterly adorable.
Yu Xiao turned back to them, head tilted cutely. "When do we leave? If we set off now, maybe we can arrive sooner than four days."
Han-Qing gave a small bow and swept an open hand toward the door. "As you wish, my Lady. After you."
She nodded, flashed them another bright smile, and walked out. The twins followed at once, their footsteps echoing down the corridor until the bedchamber door clicked shut behind them, leaving the room dim and empty once more.
The streets were already busy with morning vendors and cultivators heading to the teleportation plaza. The twins kept close, scanning for threats out of habit.
They made their way through the streets until they reached the artefact stall where they had first found her.
Her gaze was fixed on a pair of devil-edged kopis knives displayed among the weapons—blades of solid silver with golden hilts and leather scabbards. Without a word, she reached out and brushed the edge of one.
The twins exchanged a quick, puzzled glance and moved closer.
"Do you want them, my Lady?" Han-Yun asked softly.
The stall owner opened his mouth to protest—then recognised the Duan twins and thought better of it.
Yu Xiao lifted one knife, caressing the blade with practiced reverence. Her brows lifted; her jaw tightened for a split second.
Then, in a flash, she dropped into a low guard stance, left foot forward, knife reversed along her forearm—classic reverse-grip form from her old world's esoteric blade arts.
Both twins froze—Han-Qing's eyes widened; Han-Yun's hand flew to his chest.
A heartbeat later, Yu Xiao straightened, burst into laughter, and lowered the blade. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
Of course—she had been a martial arts qianbei in her original world, a master with blades. Though she had never taken a life, she had bested countless opponents in duels.
Han-Yun recovered first, curiosity burning. He stepped forward. "My Lady… do you know blade arts?"
She twirled the knife once more, a playful smirk on her lips, and said nothing—just let the answer hang in the air like an unspoken promise. "Buy them for me?"
Han-Qing was already counting out spirit stones before she finished the sentence.
As the stall owner wrapped the twin kopis knives in oiled silk, Yu Xiao slipped the bundle into her ring with a happy sigh.
She turned to the open road beyond the gate, cloak fluttering in the morning wind, eyes bright with possibility.
"Four days," she said softly. "Four days until everything changes again."