She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, looking away.
At that mont, Xia Lin appeared.
Her face was streaked with tears, her expression twisted with emotion. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Hua Jing, holding her tightly.
"My lady..." she choked out, her voice trembling. "You have suffered so much."
Hua Jing let out a breathless laugh, patting Xia Lin’s back as if she were the one offering comfort. "It doesn’t matter," she said softly. "Everything is over now."
Xia Lin sniffled, nodding furiously, but the mucus on her face was now a ss.
Hua Jing’s lips twitched.
The three of them—Hua Jing, Zhao Yan, and Xia Lin —stood in their own small world.
While behind them—
The Hua family burned in its own chaos.
Then, suddenly—
A thought struck Hua Jing.
She lifted her gaze to Zhao Yan, her eyes darkening with realization.
And then—
She spoke.
"It was you."
Hua Jing lifted her gaze to Zhao Yan.
And in that mont—everything ca rushing back.
The weight of her past life, the mories of the Hua Jing who had lived in this world before her, all of it flooded her mind in a single overwhelming wave.
She rembered.
She rembered him.
The golden-masked boy who had pulled her from the jaws of death, who had carried her through the snow, who had hidden her away and told her to cry without sha.
And she rembered sothing else—
The second ti they had t.
The mory was so vivid it felt as if she were living it again.
---
Years ago...
The trees swayed gently in the spring breeze, their pink blossoms fluttering down like soft whispers of the past. The air was sweet, the warmth of the sun casting golden rays over the landscape.
Hua Jing sat at the edge of the pond, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.
The pond was deep and clear, reflecting the vast sky above.
She had co here every year, on this very day, in this very season.
Because this was the place where her mother had disappeared.
She could still vividly rember how her mother had been that day. At the place she was standing, her blood had been sprayed.
Winter had stolen her mother away, but spring had transford the place into sothing unrecognizable.
The pond no longer looked like a grave.
The water was no longer frozen over, no longer dark and suffocating.
It was beautiful now.
But Hua Jing wasn’t fooled.
No matter how many flowers blood, no matter how warm the sun shone, the truth of what had happened here would never change.
Her mother had died here.
Her body had sunk here.
Her mother had been taken from her in the cruelest way possible, her body thrown into this very water, vanishing beneath its depths.
And yet—
Every year, Hua Jing ca back.
To wait.
To hope.
To foolishly believe that maybe, just maybe, this ti... her mother would rise from the depths and reach out for her.
But she never did.
She never would.
Hua Jing let out a shaky breath, hugging herself tighter.
Even though she knew it was impossible, she still searched the water’s surface for any sign of her.
She always would.
Ti passed.
Minutes. Maybe hours.
She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, staring into the pond, lost in her thoughts.
But then—
She felt it.
A presence.
A sudden awareness that she was no longer alone.
Panic jolted through her.
No one had ever co here before.
She had been careful all these years, ensuring that no one followed her, that no one knew about this place.
Had her stepmother finally discovered her secret?
Had she sent soone to follow her?
Slowly, very slowly, Hua Jing turned her head.
And she froze.
A man stood beside her.
Close. Too close.
She didn’t know how long he had been there.
Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his appearance.
He was tall, his presence striking against the peaceful scenery. His robes were dark, yet elegant, made of the finest silk she had ever seen.
And his face—
Hua Jing felt her heartbeat falter.
He was—
Handso.
Unrealistically so.
His features were sharp yet refined, like sothing carved by the careful hands of the gods themselves. His golden eyes glead under the sunlight, their depths unreadable, frad by dark lashes that contrasted against his pale, flawless skin.
She had never seen a man like him before.
Never encountered anyone who exuded such effortless grace and nobility.
And yet—
There was sothing deeply unsettling about him.
Not because he was frightening—no, it was quite the opposite.
It was because he was looking at her.
And in his eyes, there was sothing—
Sothing like recognition.
Sothing like longing.
Sothing that made her stomach twist.
Her throat tightened.
She had no idea who this man was.
But her instincts scread that he was soone important.
Soone she should not be near.
Panic flooded her veins.
She had been too absorbed in her own grief to notice his presence, too lost in her mories to hear his approach.
Had he been watching her this whole ti?
Her mind raced with possibilities, her first thought being—was he sent by Chen Li?
Her stepmother could never find out that she had witnessed what happened that night.
Never.
If she did—
Hua Jing didn’t want to think about what would happen to her.
Her body began to tremble, her hands clutching at the fabric of her worn skirt as she tried to figure out what to do.
The man took a small step forward.
She flinched.
He stopped.
His golden eyes flickered with sothing she couldn’t understand.
Hua Jing could see different things swirling inside them
Recognition and deep... Longing?
And then—
He spoke.
His voice was smooth as silk, deep and warm, carrying the faintest hint of sothing teasing, sothing curious.
"Maiden," he said, tilting his head slightly as he regarded her.
"Why are you out here all by yourself?"
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