In the days that followed, Xiao Zhu's progress only quickened —her spirit blossoming like a small, stubborn flower beneath winter's endless snow.
Each morning, she sat cross-legged in the courtyard, delicate hands weaving threads of water into perfect arcs.
Each evening, she collapsed onto her bedding beside Yuebao, the moon fox curling against her side, the faint glow of spiritual energy still lingering around her like a soft halo.
Even Wenlan, watching from the frost-glazed corridor, smiled to herself.
"You're stabilizing beautifully," she said one day, her hand light atop Xiao Zhu's hair.
Mo Chen, observing quietly nearby, gave only a slight nod — but even that small gesture made Xiao Zhu beam.
And yet...
Though Xiao Zhu worked harder than ever, Mo Chen's icy face never changed.
His praise was scarce, his expressions even scarcer.
One afternoon, as she practiced threading water into delicate strands between her fingers, Wenlan approached Mo Chen privately.
"You should try to soften your expression more often," Wenlan said lightly, rearranging a sprig of spirit grass in her basket.
"Don't scare Xiao Zhu. She seems to rely on you."
Mo Chen paused.
Wenlan brushed invisible dust from her sleeve, adding with a teasing tilt of her head:
"And whenever she does well, you should reward her. As her Master, it's only right."
Reward her?
The thought puzzled him.
He had never rewarded anyone before.
Praise, to him, had always been unnecessary. One simply did their duty.
Still... he remembered how Xiao Zhu's eyes lit up at the smallest nod from him.
That evening, after Xiao Zhu flawlessly spun a shimmering arc of water across the courtyard —
a feat that would have made even seasoned disciples proud —
Mo Chen found himself standing awkwardly before her, arms folded.
Xiao Zhu wiped her damp hands on her robes and looked up at him, expectant.
"...You've done well," Mo Chen said stiffly.
She brightened instantly.
And then — remembering Wenlan's advice —Mo Chen added, almost painfully, "You may choose a reward."
Xiao Zhu blinked, wide-eyed.
"A reward?" she echoed, tilting her head, clearly unfamiliar with the concept.
He nodded, solemn as ever.
After a long, thoughtful pause, she put her tiny fists on her hips, tilted her chin seriously, and declared, "Then… I want Master to smile more!"
Mo Chen froze.
"...Smile?" he repeated, as if she had just asked him to shatter a glacier with his bare hands.
"Mn!" Xiao Zhu nodded firmly.
"When you smile, you look really good. Like the ice melting when spring comes!"
A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, then something else—something even more foreign.
His fingers twitched slightly against his sleeve, as if grasping at an answer that simply wasn't there.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—too quickly, too abruptly—he turned away, shoulders stiff, hiding the faint, suspicious ripple of expression that cracked across his frozen mask.
(If anyone had looked closely, they might have noticed the very tips of his ears—just faintly—turn pink.)
Mo Chen coughed lightly into his sleeve, composing himself outwardly —but inside, he was... disoriented.
Happy?
He almost didn't recognize the feeling.
Standing stiffly with arms folded, he stared into the swirling snow and made a decision.
A rare, momentous decision.
"Fine," he said, voice as flat as ever.
"I'll allow Yanxia to visit again."
Xiao Zhu gasped, clapping her hands together in delight.
"Really?!"
Mo Chen nodded once — a tiny, reluctant movement — already regretting the inevitable noise and chaos.
But when he saw the brilliant, trusting smile on Xiao Zhu's face…
He found that he didn't mind it quite so much after all.
___
A Few Days Later
The tranquility of Ling Yuan Palace shattered like glass.
Yanxia stormed in with the subtlety of a wildfire, her scarlet robes blazing and arms burdened with packages.
"I'M BACK!!!" she cried, kicking open the gates with grand flair.
Trailing behind her were bags stuffed with spirit fruits, embroidered robes far too large for Xiao Zhu, candy jars, and even a miniature phoenix kite.
Snow blew into the hall, and Yuebao, startled by the sudden uproar, promptly dove under the nearest table.
Mo Chen, standing at the far end of the corridor, turned slowly, face frozen in a look of pure, exhausted composure.
Yanxia saw him.
Paused.
Grinned wickedly.
"Relax, Ice-Block. I come bearing gifts."
She marched up to Xiao Zhu, who was giggling uncontrollably, and plopped a ridiculously ornate phoenix crown on her head.
"You missed me, didn't you, Little Pearl?" she teased.
Xiao Zhu, caught between laughter and awe, nodded vigorously.
Behind them, Mo Chen exhaled a very long, very slow breath through his nose.
"...Only until sunset," he said flatly.
Yanxia beamed. "Plenty of time!"
Moments later, Qingfeng floated down from a passing cloud, sleeves billowing lazily.
"Told you he'd crack sooner or later," he said teasingly to Yanxia.
Yanxia shot him a look, arms crossed. "You don't have to sound so smug about it."
She scoffed, but a smile flickered across her lips before she turned away.
Qingfeng's gaze lingered—
A beat longer than it should have.
His fingers lightly brushed his sleeve, as if adjusting it absently.
He didn't say anything else.
But he didn't drift off either—
Just quietly followed behind her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Wenlan, arriving with a tray of warm tea, simply smiled softly at the chaotic scene.
And so, for the first time in many millennia, the cold, solemn halls of Ling Yuan Palace were filled with laughter, warmth, and the light-hearted sounds of joy.