Over the ruins of the Snowdrift Hut, the wind howled incessantly like a funeral dirge.
Inside the tent, a single flicker of candlelight struggled to stay alive.
Moyin’s fingertips traced the sharp handwriting on an ancient scroll.
It was Ella’s handwriting.
The force was so great it had nearly torn through the back of the page, as if she were venting her spite against someone.
The paper was made of Moonlight Flower Petals, unique to the Elves, and carried a cold fragrance.
But what Moyin smelled was the burning sorrow of a woman consuming her own life during countless nights without him.
Moyin suddenly remembered the condescending posture that woman had assumed when handing her the sugar-preserved plums.
As it turned out, that wasn’t a display of superiority — it was a test.
A test to see if she, the newcomer, also viewed him as a precious treasure.
In this loneliness spanning 100 years, no one was spared. She was never the only one who stubbornly refused to let go.
Moyin closed the scroll, a bitter curve touching her lips.
“Ella, it turns out that on this path, you have already walked far ahead of me…”
Love was not about possession, but about protection and fulfillment.
Protection was a long road that required even more courage than revenge.
*Bang — !*
Just then, the tent flap was violently thrown open, allowing the freezing chill of wind and snow to pour inside.
Sheena, who was usually as steady as a mountain, actually stumbled into the room. Her robes were covered in frost and snow, her expression was agitated, and her lips trembled so much that she couldn’t form a complete sentence for a long time.
“Your… Your Majesty…”
Lilith, who followed behind her, supported her. Her small face was flushed red as she rushed to shout:
“Your Majesty! We found him! We found Lord Luolin!”
*Boom!*
The words exploded within the deathly silence of the tent.
Sheena caught her breath, her eyes filled with wild joy. She expected Moyin to tear through space and rush there the very next second.
But Moyin only slowly placed the scroll back into the metal box.
There wasn’t a single ripple of emotion on her face.
She looked up, her silver eyes as still as a frozen sea.
“How… is he now?”
“Is he living well?”
These two questions completely stunned Sheena, rendering her prepared speech useless.
Her Majesty wasn’t asking where he was.
She was asking… if he was doing well.
The daze lasted only a moment before Sheena immediately recounted everything she had seen at Frostwolf Keep.
From Lucius’s arrogant, petty face to how he publicly humiliated Shen Luolin for having a “weak constitution,” and finally, to Shen Luolin’s current predicament of being sidelined by his two younger brothers and struggling within the family.
With every word she spoke, Lilith’s fist beside her tightened.
By the end of the report, the young dragon-kin girl was already fuming with indignation, her pupils nearly spitting fire.
“That bastard Lucius! How dare he treat Lord Luolin like that!” Lilith stamped her feet in frustration. “Your Majesty! Please give the order. I will go cut out that fellow’s tongue and feed it to the magic beasts right now!”
If even Lilith, an outsider, felt the injustice of his current situation, how could Moyin endure it?
As soon as Lilith finished speaking…
*Hum — *
The candlelight in the tent suddenly ducked. The light was compressed by an invisible force into a thin layer of flame, nearly extinguished.
Moyin’s face remained expressionless, but a crimson-gold fire ignited within those silver eyes.
‘Kill him.’
‘Crush that insect named Lucius into powder.’
‘Incinerate everyone who dared to disrespect him until nothing remained but ash.’
But in the next moment, the image that surfaced in Moyin’s mind was of the man back in the mine, grumbling about her being clumsy while awkwardly showing her how to mend clothes.
‘…He was always so afraid of trouble.’
She understood the gentleness hidden beneath his indifference, and she understood the lofty pride that made him unwilling to owe anyone.
If she were to charge in there so explosively, a man of his pride would find such an immense favor harder to stomach than death. ‘He would… hide from me.’
At that thought, the fire in Moyin’s eyes seemed to be covered by a heavy snowfall, gradually dying out.
The cold, oppressive pressure within the tent dissipated along with it.
She shook her head gently, her voice carrying a hint of helplessness she hadn’t noticed herself.
“He has his own path to travel.”
“If we interfere, it will only disrupt his plans and become a new source of trouble for him.”
“But… but are we just going to watch Lord Luolin be bullied?” Lilith was still unable to let it go.
Moyin didn’t answer. She simply waved her hand.
“You may leave.”
Sheena and Lilith could only swallow their anger, bowing as they withdrew.
Once again, she was alone in the tent.
The wind and snow were shut out, leaving only the flickering lamplight.
He had his pride; she understood that.
If she appeared with great fanfare, she would only become his biggest headache.
But she couldn’t just leave him be.
Moyin’s thoughts drifted. There were many treasures that could help her master, but they were either too loud or too potent, leaving traces that would draw unwanted attention.
Only this one…
Was the most gentle, and the most… compatible.
She walked into the darkness at the deepest part of the tent.
Her fingertips hooked the coarse gray blanket on her shoulder, letting it slowly slide down.
The texture of the blanket scraped against her bare shoulder, sending a slight shiver through her.
Trembling slightly, she raised her hands, which were colder than moonlight, and fumbled with her collar.
The first button was cold and hard, resisting under her fingertips.
She applied a bit of force. With a soft *pop*, the restraint was undone.
The second one followed.
The most perfect creation of the gods was unpeeled inch by inch under the dim light.
She took a cold white porcelain bowl and leaned over.
Her breathing turned erratic in an instant.
A single drop of silver-white liquid squeezed out with difficulty.
It hung there precariously — full, lustrous, and shimmering.
*Drip.*
It fell heavily into the bottom of the bowl, creating a viscous echo.
Then came a second drop, a third…
The liquid in the bowl gradually gathered. Its surging life force was so powerful it felt as though it might burst through the small tent.
The silver light in the bowl reflected her hazy eyes.
There was sorrow, endurance, and a profound tenderness she hadn’t even realized she possessed.
“Master…”
Her lips moved, spilling out a moist murmur.
“You always said I was clumsy.”
“This time… let me be the one to keep you warm.”
She finally stopped.
A wave of emptiness and weakness washed over her from deep within her body.
Resealing her buttons, she hid away that breathtaking snowy white and draped the old blanket back over her shoulders.
In this world, there will always be someone who loves you more than they love themselves.
Holding the bowl that still carried her body heat, she walked to the tent entrance.
Sheena was waiting anxiously outside.
Moyin handed the bowl to Sheena. Her voice was calm, yet brooked no argument.
“Deliver this to his hands.”
***
Frostwolf Keep, the tower at dawn.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
The knocking was gentle and restrained, completely different from Lucius’s violence the previous day.
The maid, Liya, went to the door shivering. Thinking it was another guard sent by the second young master to cause trouble, she was already prepared to be scolded.
But when the wooden door opened a crack, the figure standing outside made her whole body tremble.
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