“Master, you’re cuter when you blush than the wooden dolls I carve.”
Meiyin’s crisp laughter echoed in the warm little cabin. Her silver eyes shone with startling brightness, filled with joy and provocation.
Outside the air made sweet by the roasting fire, in the valley shadows, Aila stood still as an ice sculpture.
The snow whipped her skirt, the deep blue fabric appearing like a sudden ink stain in the pure white world. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat rhythmic. Those eyes, eternally unruffled, clearly reflected the silhouettes on the window—two figures pressed close in the firelight, then quickly pulling apart.
And the girl’s blatant, victor-like smile.
Aila didn’t interpret this scene as intimacy or betrayal. It was just a data point. A clear, distinct red alert with a high risk value.
Her mind, a precision instrument serving the Empire for over a decade, began to race.
Target “Meiyin” used emotional induction on Major Luo Lin Frostwolf. The Major developed personal feelings for the target beyond mission control, manifesting as “loss of control” and “acquiescence.” This emotional variable would severely threaten the stability of the “Key Recovery” plan and might lead to unpredictable desertion by the Major.
Intervention required immediately. Strip the emotional variable, uproot the source of risk, ensure the mission returns 100% to its intended track.
As for the needle-like sting that flashed in her chest, the system quickly categorized it as useless emotional interference and suppressed it instantly. For the Empire, and to pull him back from his straying path, she had to sever it all herself.
Inside, Shen Luolin finally regained a shred of sanity. He was about to say something to this increasingly lawless girl. Even if it was just a stern “Stop this nonsense.”
Just then—
“Knock, knock, knock.”
Clear, steady, with a metallic coldness, the knocking pierced the howling wind and snow, striking their eardrums with precision. The sound was out of place in this dilapidated cabin, carrying a will that brooked no refusal.
The sweet atmosphere inside froze.
Shen Luolin’s muscles tensed instantly. All his scattered thoughts snapped back into place, restoring the vigilance a knight should have. Meiyin’s smile stiffened. An ominous premonition coiled around her heart.
Shen Luolin strode to the door and pulled open the flimsy barrier. Outside, wrapped in a frigid chill, Aila stood silently. Her posture was upright, as if she had just stepped off a parade ground in the capital. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on her deep blue dress.
She was like a drawn sword, shattering every bit of warm, tender atmosphere in the cabin.
Aila’s voice lacked any warmth. Her gaze swept past Shen Luolin to Meiyin’s face before returning to his: “Please come with me.”
Using a status report as a pretext, she requested a private conversation. One after the other, they stepped into the biting wind. The snow swallowed them instantly, leaving Meiyin’s anxious heart suspended in mid-air.
“Captain Aila, here to confirm the progress of the ‘Key’ recovery.”
In the bone-chilling blizzard, Aila got straight to the point, piercing the last shred of decency between them.
Shen Luolin’s gaze moved from her snow-free skirt to her calm eyes. His voice was low, like a provoked beast: “Aila, you tampered with the potion you gave me.”
It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He referred to the time Meiyin’s dragonblood went berserk after taking the potion Aila sent. It had even left burns on Shen Luolin.
A layer of frost gathered on Aila’s eyelashes. She didn’t even blink, only tilting her head slightly, as if examining a disobedient tool. “But the result was effective, wasn’t it?”
She paused, every word she spat out like a block of ice hitting his heart. “The alchemists I brought have completed the final analysis of the blood sample you sent back. The conclusion is that the blood purity has fully reached the standard to open the ‘Dragon Temple.’ Congratulations, Major. Your mission is complete.”
Shen Luolin’s heart sank. He reflexively countered, “It’s not enough. Her power is unstable. Forcing its use will only…”
“Major.” Aila interrupted him coldly. Her eyes in the snow were like two pieces of ice that would never melt. “Data does not lie. The Empire’s judgment stands above your personal feelings. The mission can end now. We no longer need any unnecessary ’emotional cultivation’ with the target.”
She emphasized the words “emotional cultivation.”
Shen Luolin’s defense seemed pale and weak against the wall of “Imperial Data.” He fell silent.
To Aila, that silence was the most stubborn form of resistance. A visible crack finally appeared in her icy shell. The wind and snow blew harder, messing up her meticulous hair. A few dark strands stuck to her cold cheek.
Her voice was no longer purely professional; it carried a suppressed, almost pleading tremor. She reached out, as if to grab his sleeve, but her hand stiffened into a fist in mid-air.
“Luo Lin,” she called his name. These two words left her lips as if they cost her every ounce of self-control. “How many more years are you going to bear the infamy of the ‘Ungrateful Dragon-Slayer’?”
Her voice suddenly sharpened, cutting through the unspoken taboo between them. “Did you forget how those people at the capital banquets mocked you to your face? Saying you paved your way to promotion with the bones of your savior? Did you forget the knights you saved, who turned around and whispered behind your back that you were a cold-blooded traitor? You exhaust yourself alone on the training grounds. You handle the most dangerous, unwanted missions alone, using military merits to shut everyone’s mouths… Luo Lin, the blood you’ve spilled, the injuries you’ve suffered, every grievance you’ve swallowed over these years—have you forgotten it all?”
She took a half-step forward, almost pressing against his side. The snow blurred her vision, but she stubbornly stared at his hardened profile. Her voice was filled with unmistakable heartache and anger… and even pleading. “You endured all of this just for today, didn’t you? To stand before the Emperor and have a real voice! Now, are you going to turn all our… all your years of endurance into a complete joke for the sake of a ghost from the past? For his daughter, who shouldn’t even exist?”
The word “our” made her pupils shrink. As if burned, she suddenly pulled back all her leaking emotions.
“I know you feel guilty toward Rhineside… but that is just a mistake, a variable that will drag you down into the abyss.” Her voice became steady again, but colder than the snow. “Luo Lin, wake up. Stop looking back.”
Shen Luolin remained unmoved. He didn’t even spare her a glance. He just looked at the distant ridgeline blurred by snow, the direction of the Snow-Returning Cabin. His jawline was clenched tight.
Silent rejection hurt more than any sharp words.
The last light in Aila’s eyes died out. The crack that had just opened was instantly sealed by thicker ice. It turned out that the grand path she had spent her entire career paving for him couldn’t compare to a single backward glance at that dilapidated cabin.
She became an Imperial Captain once again—an emotionless, absolutely rational executioner. She threw out her final and heaviest ultimatum.
“The excavation of the Dragon Temple has entered its final stage. His Majesty the Emperor will arrive in the North soon. He specifically asked to see you, Luo Lin. You’ve run out of time.”
The Emperor was coming early…
This was the worst variable in his plan, the ultimate situation he wanted to avoid at all costs. The massive shock of information caused Shen Luolin to lose focus for a split second.
Now!
Aila seized this fleeting opportunity. A look of mixed resolve and pain flashed in her eyes. With lightning speed, she drew an alchemical poison needle glowing with a faint blue light that had been hidden in her sleeve.
Shen Luolin quickly snapped back to his senses. Combat instinct made his fingers reach for the place where his dagger should have been—but it was empty.
A cold sting came from the back of his neck.
Disbelief flashed in Shen Luolin’s eyes. He tried to turn his head, but his body no longer obeyed. His strength was rapidly drained. Everything before him began to spin and sink.
Aila firmly caught his collapsing body.
“The Major’s old injuries have flared up.” She calmly issued orders to the knights appearing from the snow. “I will escort him back to the base first. You lot, seal the valley and hunt down the Dragonblood remnants with everything you’ve got!”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
In the final moment of consciousness, Shen Luolin’s world held only that cold command and the distant, warm orange firelight in the cabin that was about to be completely swallowed by the wind and snow.