Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Crown Prince of Dan Nation

The feud between Lady Yan and Concubine Jin was, for the moment, laid to rest, and a semblance of tranquility returned to the palace. Yet, within this calm was something subtly out of the ordinary—a new guest had arrived, noble and exceptionally discreet.

He was Dan Ying, the Crown Prince of Dan, a young man acclaimed by the people of his country, embodying the popular will. In the palace’s scenic flower garden, two men of youthful brilliance and distinct talents sat drinking tea.

One wore black robes, his hair bound with a golden crown. He held a cup of clear tea between slender jade fingers. His brows were thick, his expression stern and unsmiling, lending him a cold aura that suited his fine features.

“King Ji, who do you believe rules the world?” His tone was as cold as his demeanor.

The other was dressed in azure robes, his hair tied with a dark ribbon, lips curved in a gentle smile, his face mild. Yet his deep eyes shone with a sharp, unyielding light, lingering over the flowers as if in careful appreciation, concealing boundless charisma.

“Why do you ask such a question, Crown Prince Dan? I confess I do not understand.” Ji Wu Qing dismissed the inquiry.

“I believe you’ve heard, King Ji, that Wu secretly trains a corps of death warriors. It’s said these men are impervious to blades and impossible for ordinary people to defeat. I wonder what Wu’s monarch intends.” Dan Ying mused.

“You’re correct, Crown Prince. Wu’s death warriors are known as the ‘Immortal Army.’ However, I’ve heard they still lack a crucial catalyst—without it, the army cannot function.” Ji Wu Qing spoke carelessly, unconcerned by these warriors; after all, everything has its flaws, especially things not truly alive.

Still, they were not to be underestimated.

“Despite this, Wu’s ruler has been practicing a dark art—Soul Summoning. It’s said to capture souls and claim lives, and if mastered, would render its wielder invincible.” The royal family of Wu had pursued this skill for generations, yet no sign of success.

“Oh?” Ji Wu Qing was unimpressed. “If it could truly conquer the world, I’d have no choice but to relinquish my throne.” He spoke with nonchalance.

“King Ji, you certainly speak your mind.” Dan Ying raised his brows, unbothered by Ji Wu Qing’s indifferent attitude.

“The saying goes, ‘the victor becomes king, the loser a bandit.’ That’s the gist.” He smiled faintly, his face serene. “But, Crown Prince, since you’re so concerned, have you already devised a way to break the Immortal Army?”

Dan Ying’s expression did not change. He stared calmly at Ji Wu Qing.

“Why would you say that, King Ji? I merely wished to hear your insights.” Dan Ying replied.

“Alas, I’ve nothing to offer, Crown Prince.”

And so their conversation ended, marked by a lack of mutual understanding. They were not of the same path and would never agree.

After Dan Ying departed, Ji Wu Qing shed his earlier indifference, propping his head in thoughtful inquiry. “Miao Jian, what sort of man do you think Crown Prince Dan is?”

“Ambitious, calculating, not fit for an ally,” Miao Jian answered succinctly.

“You’re right. If he ever stabbed me in the back, it’d be a disaster. Besides, who’s to say the kingdom of Dan will truly belong to Dan Ying? He’s only a crown prince, not an emperor.”

The vast sky was cloudless, the sun warm and unguarded.

The flowers in Anxue Palace were nearing the end of their bloom, petals fading in their final flourish.

She walked out from her room, alone, with no Xiao Xi’er at her side—it felt as though something was missing. Standing in the courtyard, she did not know what to do, wishing only to stand quietly for a while.

The courtyard was peaceful, sunlight warm. Suddenly, startled birds darted across the sky, breaking the silence. Xue Xue was startled—not by the birds, but by the sense that someone lingered atop the tree outside the palace walls.

Her instincts rarely erred. Who could so freely enter the royal palace?

She mused silently, refraining from raising an alarm, instead moving slowly to sit at a stone table nearby. On the table was a pot of flower tea she had carefully brewed, its fragrance light and pleasant. She sipped at it, pretending nothing was amiss.

Yet the gaze from the tree was too blatant; she could not feign ignorance.

“Who’s there?” She turned with her tea toward the tree, her tone probing.

Who was he? His gaze felt oddly familiar—had they met before?

Yet, no answer came for a long time.

She suddenly regretted speaking; perhaps she should have kept pretending not to notice. Besides, the stranger seemed to mean no harm, or he would have done more than simply observe her.

Just as she believed he would remain silent, his voice sounded.

“Blood Empress indeed has keen hearing.” His voice was soft, pleasant, yet tinged with a thin layer of frost.

Strangely, his voice stirred something within her, as if a shell were about to break. The familiarity was not hers, but belonged to Yuan Xue, her former self.

But now, she was Xue Xue—not Yuan Xue.

Yuan Xue had long since abandoned hope; even the memories left behind were fading, leaving only a trace of familiarity.

“Even calling you the Snow Empress would not be amiss.” Seeing her lost in thought, he continued.

Xue Xue was surprised, though she kept her composure. “What do you mean by that?”

The identity of ‘Snow Empress’ should be a secret; none in the Kingdom of Ji knew. Clearly, this man truly knew ‘her’—in a way perhaps more intimate than most.

Who could he be?

If no one in Ji knew, then he must be from outside. Could he be from Yu?

No, she knew all about Yu, so—

Recently, a foreign guest had arrived in Ji. Considering his skill and presence, could he be Dan Ying, Crown Prince of Dan?

“Empress in one kingdom, Empress in another—you are the foremost in the land.” Dan Ying gazed at the girl sitting quietly beneath the tree, tea steaming in her hands. He stood atop the branches, his expression proud, dismissive, as if she were beneath notice.

“Blood Empress is simply Blood Empress. What concern is it of yours?”

The breeze lifted Xue Xue’s long hair as she sat calmly in the courtyard, her voice steady.

“It matters nothing to me, but I believe the world finds it intriguing.”

“If that is your intention, Crown Prince, I have no means to resist.” Xue Xue speculated how Dan Ying could be an acquaintance of Yuan Xue, and even if they had known each other, their relationship was surely complex.

Why did he target her so?

Dan Ying was momentarily surprised, regarding Xue Xue’s unchanged demeanor. “Is the Blood Empress truly unconcerned that her true identity is known?”

“So what? How does it benefit you, Crown Prince? Or is this all deliberate—a targeted move against me?” She asked calmly, curious about his motives.

“Hmph, I have no such idle interest.” Dan Ying snorted coldly, offering no explanation.

His expression grew colder, sharp as ice shards.

“Very well, since you won’t say, I won’t press. I do have a question, though—Crown Prince, you must have arrived in Ji long before today.”

Xue Xue refused to let him control the conversation; her calm words were resolute.

“What do you mean, Blood Empress?” Dan Ying frowned, his eyes showing a hint of confusion.

“Why? Wasn’t the man in Mist Mountain the other day Crown Prince Dan?” The one Ji Wu Qing purposefully let go, swift but not an assassin.

But why would the Crown Prince of Dan go to Mist Mountain?

“I do not know what you mean, Blood Empress.” Dan Ying’s face remained unchanged, but his cold gaze betrayed a flicker of emotion.

“No need to acknowledge it, Crown Prince. We each know the truth, don’t we?” She was content to know herself, regardless of his denial.

“Blood Empress is truly perceptive; I am impressed.” Dan Ying smiled coldly, his smile unsettling. He looked at the girl who quietly threatened him, his gaze unreadable.

Even after being exposed, he lost nothing. He merely wanted to—

See for himself.

Distant footsteps approached. Tao Xin entered the courtyard, followed by several young palace maids carrying trays of pastries.

“Your Majesty, I brought some snacks. They go nicely with your tea.” Four delicacies: green rice cakes, intricate peach blossom pastries, smooth red bean cakes, and fragrant lotus leaf wraps.

“Thank you, that’s thoughtful.” Xue Xue nodded, taking a peach blossom pastry and biting into it, its sweet flavor melting in her mouth—her favorite treat.

Dan Ying, watching from the tree, was visibly shaken, as if in disbelief.

Yes, in Xue Xue’s memories, Yuan Xue had despised peach blossom pastries—so much so as to abhor their taste.

But Xue Xue was different; she loved peach blossoms.

She tilted her head, noticing Dan Ying had not left. If he truly knew Yuan Xue, he must be deeply surprised, filled with doubt.

Up in the tree, Dan Ying masked his expression. Hidden among the leaves, he turned away, calmly overlooking the gilded palace, a faint, inscrutable smile on his lips.