[The Midnight Incursion]
The window was slightly ajar, letting in the scent of pine on the night breeze. Moonlight spilled into the room, painting the curtains and bedsheets in a tranquil silvery white.
The room was so quiet that one could hear the wind whistling through the wooden frame. Gu Xingyu was a light sleeper.
Si Moheng used the feather amulet to bypass the wind-bell barrier outside the window. The amulet carried no malice, and the barrier only vibrated softly without sounding an alarm. He stepped inside, his movements so light they made no sound. His long shadow stretched across the carpet and toward the bed. He only wanted to see her—just one look.
She lay on her side, her expression peaceful, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as if caught in a pleasant dream. His chest tightened. As he approached the bedside, her eyes suddenly flew open.
In that instant, Si Moheng instinctively leaned down, his palm covering her lips to stifle any sound.
Xingyu started, but her eyes remained clear. There was no panic, no scream—only a cold, steady alertness and a flurry of questions in her gaze.
"Don't be afraid... I won't hurt you," he whispered urgently, his voice barely audible. "I'm not here to take you away... I just... I just wanted to see you. Just once."
His voice lacked its usual icy composure; instead, it sounded like an emotion suppressed for too long, finally cracking under the silence.
Xingyu blinked, signaling toward his hand still pressed against her mouth. He paused, then hurriedly withdrew his hand, stepping back.
She sat up, leaning against the headboard, her voice steady. "To see me? Why? Are you scouting? Trying to find out what we're planning?"
He lowered his gaze, his lips pale from being pressed together. "It's not scouting. It's..."
He wanted to say, "I missed you," but he couldn't. Those soft words were stuck in his throat—a language a killer had never learned.
[The Confrontation of the Heart]
Xingyu watched him, her brow furrowing. The man before her was no longer the calculating Third Prince; he looked like a wolf that had broken free from its leash, standing lost and awkward, afraid of being driven away yet unsure how to approach.
She softened her tone, speaking like a scholar used to observing the human psyche. "You came to see me... because of insecurity? Or to prove to yourself that you made the right choice?"
Her words were like needles, piercing the emotional shroud he refused to acknowledge.
Si Moheng froze. He hadn't expected her to see through him so easily. He bowed his head, struggling with himself, before finally rasping out, "It's insecurity... but it doesn't come from you. It comes from within myself."
He looked up, a rare mix of confusion and sincerity in the depths of his eyes. "I don't know when I started caring about what you think... I just wanted to know why a single word from you can make me restless. Why I feel this need to see you."
Xingyu's expression didn't change, but after a moment of silence, she asked, "You care about me? Do you like me?"
Her tone was almost playful, a slight curve at the corner of her eyes. "Is this a new version of the imperial 'Honey Trap'? Using your looks to shake my resolve and seize control? Your Highness, that tactic is a bit cliché."
He didn't answer immediately, only gazed at her for a long time.
"To be honest," she continued, pulling her cloak tighter, "you are definitely my type." She looked at him unabashedly, her tone a bit flippant. "But unfortunately, my logic outweighs my emotions. I won't let my guard down just because you came close, nor will I believe your heart is true just because of some moving words."
Si Moheng didn't understand what she meant by "logic and emotions," but he understood the rest perfectly.
He let out a soft, self-mocking laugh. "You are the first person... to say such things to my face and still dare to smile so freely." He stepped closer, keeping exactly one foot of distance. "I cannot say if this is 'love.' I only know that you do nothing, yet I replay your image constantly. You speak a few words, and I spend my nights tossing and turning. This version of myself... has never existed before."
He fell silent, as if saying any more would make him appear more ridiculous. This was a vulnerability harder to admit than a mistake.
[The Choice]
"You aren't incapable of love," Xingyu finally said, her voice turning gentle. "You were simply never allowed to love. You've lived in a world where mistakes and weakness are forbidden. Even liking or missing someone... you had to suppress it until you couldn't breathe. You want to control everything, even your feelings, because you're afraid that if you lose control, you'll be manipulated. Right?"
She saw the tremor in his eyes.
"Unfortunately... emotions are the one thing that can't be calculated on a board."
Si Moheng finally looked at her. Their eyes met in the moonlight. She stepped forward, closing the distance to an arm's length.
"Do you come out of resentment? Or... do you truly care?"
"I don't know if I'm worthy of caring for someone," Si Moheng whispered. "I only know that lately, I can't bear to see you hurt. I can't stand to hear you criticized. And most of all... I don't want you to hate me. You've done nothing... yet you make me wonder if, in another life, I could have lived like a human being."
Xingyu took a soft breath. She didn't retreat. Slowly, she reached out and placed her hand over the back of his.
He froze. Her palm wasn't heavy, but it rested firmly over his pale knuckles—a thread of light piercing the heart that had been frozen since he was thirteen.
"You don't need to ask if you're worthy," she whispered. "Emotions aren't a trade or a penance. They are a choice. You have the right to choose, too. No one ever told you that, did they?"
His knuckles trembled. She wasn't offering surrender or forgiveness; she was offering acceptance.
He slowly raised his other hand, hesitantly covering hers as if the warmth might vanish if he touched it too hard. "Will you... give me another chance? Not as the Third Prince, but... as Si Moheng?"
Xingyu didn't answer immediately. She withdrew her hand but left him with a lingering promise. "We'll see what you do next."
[The Forehead Kiss]
A flicker of hope ignited in his eyes. He took one step closer—extremely slow, as if afraid to startle a dream.
"May I?" he whispered.
Xingyu looked into his cautious, fearful eyes. She didn't speak, nor did she retreat. She simply gave a tiny nod.
That nod silenced the thousand armies marching in his mind.
He reached out, his fingertips first grazing her hairline, testing and restrained. Then he leaned in, stopping just inches from her face. His breath fanned across her skin, and finally—his forehead gently touched hers.
It was a touch without aggression, without possession. Just two people, both burdened by fate, finally finding a reason to be close in the quiet night.
With their foreheads pressed together, he closed his eyes and whispered like the wind, "Thank you... for letting me know that I can be human."
Xingyu didn't move away. She felt the warmth from him and realized it wasn't a fire of burning desire, but a pair of hands reaching out from an abyss, desperate for a pull.
After a long moment, he pulled back. "Goodnight, Xingyu."
He turned and left, his footsteps fading down the corridor. Xingyu stood alone, touching her forehead where the lingering warmth remained. She realized he was changing—not just for her, but for himself.
She sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. "Gu Xingyu... have you really become the kind of woman who gets swayed by a handsome face...?"