Linyue walked with a slow, measured step—just the right pace, not too fast to look hurried, but not too slow to seem like she was stuck in a daydream. It was the kind of walk that said, I've got nowhere to be and no rush to get there.
As she stepped out of Concubine Xiang's residence, she paused for a brief moment, glancing to both sides of the street.
The road outside was an absolute whirlwind of life.
People were everywhere, darting in all directions, chattering, laughing, and shouting in an energetic chaos that could only be described as loud—but somehow, not unpleasant.
Carts rumbled over the cobblestones path with a clattering noise that seemed to add to the charm. The air was filled with the melody of footsteps, voices, and distant conversations, making it feel like the very pulse of the city was alive.
Tall, narrow buildings stood on both sides of the road. The facades were adorned with intricate woodwork, carved window frames, and delicate hanging lanterns that swayed gently in the breeze. Silk banners stretched lazily between rooftops, their embroidered symbols catching the sunlight like threads of gold.
Vendors filled the space in between, their stalls overflowing with herbs, powders, and vials of mysterious glowing liquids. Every corner of the street screamed "alchemy," with all the potions, medicines, and curious concoctions that Luyan was famous for. The air was thick with the mingling scents of incense, sweet teas, and the tempting aroma of freshly steamed buns.
Children dashed between stalls, their laughter ringing through the noise, while traveling performers drew small crowds with their colorful costumes and exaggerated, lively dances. A few musicians played soft, lilting tunes on bamboo flutes, weaving melodies that blended harmoniously with the buzz of conversation and the soft clink of porcelain cups.
Despite the noise and bustle, there was an undeniable elegance woven into the scene. The buildings rose with quiet pride, their tiled roofs curving gracefully like waves caught mid-motion, each one tipped with gleaming gilded edges that sparkled in the afternoon sun.
Everything in Luyan felt both orderly and alive—a city that wasn't just surviving, but truly thriving, carrying the quiet confidence of a place that knew its own worth in the heart of the Yunyue realm.
Beneath a blossoming plum tree, where pale pink petals floated lazily on the breeze, a young man stood waiting. He was tall and striking. His features were sharp enough to look serious, but the calm expression he wore softened them just enough to suggest he wouldn't bite. His white robes fluttered lightly in the breeze, giving him the dramatic air of someone who either had deep thoughts or simply knew how good he looked standing under a plum tree.
Above him, branches swayed and sent a gentle shower of petals onto his shoulders like nature's way of adding flair. He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. His gaze was fixed straight ahead—patient, composed, and suspiciously practiced, as if he'd been waiting long enough to master the art of looking poetic while doing absolutely nothing.
The moment he saw the person he'd been waiting for, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile—small, quiet, but unmistakably genuine. No dramatic gasp, no running across a field of flowers… just a smile and a brisk, purposeful walk in her direction. It was the kind of greeting that said, there you are. Took your time.
"How did it go, Linyue?" he asked, his voice gentle but casual—like he was asking about a stroll in the garden rather than whatever important task she'd just finished.
"It's done," she replied, matching his smile with one of her own.
"Alright," he said simply, his tone warm and unbothered, as if that was all he needed to hear.
Without another word, they began walking side by side in silence. Their steps synced naturally, like they were reading from the same invisible script. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It wasn't dramatic, either. It was the kind of comfortable silence only old friends or partners in crime shared—the kind that said, we've been through worse, and we'll go through worse again, but we'll be fine.
After a short walk—one of those unhurried, pleasantly aimless kinds that somehow ends at exactly the right place—their feet brought them to a large, elegant building. It practically radiated dignity, the kind that made you feel underdressed even if you weren't. Above the doorway, a finely carved wooden plaque caught the sunlight like it had a personal spotlight. The golden characters gleamed proudly: Xuanyi Pavilion.
As soon as they stepped inside, the peace and quiet of the place was gloriously shattered. They were instantly greeted by a cheerful young girl who practically bounced toward them with a grin so bright it could rival a midsummer sunrise.
"Sister Linyue! Brother Zhenyu! Come in, come in!" she called out, waving her arms as if they might somehow forget where the door was. Her smile was infectious, her energy uncontainable—as if she'd been holding in excitement for at least three hours too long.
"Quick, tell me—what happened?" the cheerful girl asked, leaning in so closely that it was a miracle she didn't tip over. Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of expected gossip, or juicy secret.
"Nothing happened," Linyue replied, calm as ever. "I'm going to the south."
The girl blinked, visibly thrown off by the complete lack of drama. She waited a beat, clearly hoping for some secret twist—an ambush? A confession? A cursed artifact, perhaps? But Linyue just smiled serenely, leaving her with absolutely nothing to chew on. Not even a scandalous whisper.
Beside them, Shen Zhenyu let out a quiet chuckle, clearly used to the way things played out between the two. Watching Song Meiyu try to fish for juicy details from the ever-composed Linyue was practically a pastime at this point. Sometimes, it was the unsaid things that made the story all the more interesting.
"Alright! Then I'll pack right away!" the cheerful girl—Song Meiyu—announced, spinning on her heel with such energy she nearly knocked over a nearby vase.
"Wait—why are you packing?" Linyue called after her, one brow arching in mild disbelief. "I'm the one who's going."
Before that question could even hang in the air, another voice came crashing in like a well-timed cymbal.
"Wait for me! I'm coming too!"
A young man dashed into the room, grinning like someone who'd just heard the words free snacks. His eyes sparkled with excitement and a touch of mischief, clearly imagining sword fights, secret missions, or something equally heroic.
Linyue turned to him, more amused than surprised. "What are you talking about?" she asked, "Why would you come along?"
At this point, the room had completely transformed from quiet retreat to something closer to a market square before a festival. Voices overlapped, footsteps shuffled, and Linyue—who had planned for a peaceful, solitary journey—found herself in the middle of a very excitable storm made entirely of enthusiasm and bad ideas.
"We've already told the Masters, and they agreed," Song Meiyu said proudly. She glanced at Shen Zhenyu, her trusty partner-in-schemes. "Right, Senior Brother Zhenyu?"
He gave a short nod, his response simple. "Yes, we will go with you."
"Wait!" Linyue's eyes widened, her voice caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. "We? Senior Brother Zhenyu, you too?"
Shen Zhenyu arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk that practically said, You expected anything less? He glanced at the two standing nearby—Song Meiyu, who was still radiating uncontainable enthusiasm, and He Yuying, who looked ready to fight a dragon just for fun.
"Of course," Shen Zhenyu replied coolly. "If not me, who else is going to keep an eye on all three of you?" His gaze lingered on the trio meaningfully, and though he didn't say the word out loud, it echoed all the same: troublemakers.
"…" She couldn't argue with that.
Turning to the ever-bubbly Song Meiyu and the ever-eager He Yuying, Linyue let out a small sigh of frustration. "Sister Meiyu, Brother Yuying…I'm not going to the south to play," she said, in the calm, reasonable tone of someone who already knew reason wasn't going to help.
"I didn't tag along to play either!" Song Meiyu chirped with a grin, puffing her chest with mock pride. "Master already gave me a ten-meter-long list of herbs to bring back from the south."
"Ten meters?" Linyue asked, raising an eyebrow. She couldn't decide if she was shocked…or just mildly impressed. After all, the task came from that Master—Song Meiyu's legendary teacher, the ever-unpredictable, occasionally maddening, always brilliant Master Yin Xue.
Song Meiyu nodded solemnly, as if she were being honored with a royal decree instead of being pranked by her master. "Unrolled it this morning. It touched both walls. I had to weigh it down with rocks."
Of course she did.