Chapter 3: May I Come Back

  It was the morning right after the banquet. The golden light of dawn streamed through the high windows of the Amber Palace throne room, but it brought no warmth. It only served to illuminate the dust motes dancing in the tense, silent air.

  A lone throne, carved from what looked like a single, massive piece of amber, stood atop a short flight of stairs. On it sat King Qin Hong, his brows furrowed, his fingers drumming a slow, irritated rhythm on the armrest. Floating silently beside the throne was a single, ornate key of crimson metal. It was an odd, gravity-defying sight, yet everyone in the room regarded it with the same casual indifference as they would a simple piece of furniture. The usual paternal warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp anger.

  In front of him, kneeling on the polished marble floor, were two figures: the imposing form of Zhu Lihua and the much smaller, trembling frame of the young council member, Xiang Feng.

  "What seems to be the matter, Your Majesty?" Zhu Lihua asked, her voice calm and steady, though her posture was rigid.

  "Stop with the formality, Commander," the King’s voice was low and laced with irritation. "You know precisely why I summoned you here at this ungodly hour. It's about her. Your disciple. Your stepdaughter."

  He leaned forward, his gaze pinning Zhu to the floor. "She went missing after her little excuse last night. She told a dozen people she was merely going to the washroom, but she never came back. Not a single guard, not a single servant, saw her leave the palace grounds."

  The King's voice grew louder with each word, the irritation boiling into unconcealed fury. "Do you mind explaining to me where she went, Commander?"

  Zhu Lihua did not flinch under the King's glare. "I have no knowledge of her whereabouts, Your Majesty," she replied, her tone respectful but firm. "She may be my stepdaughter, but she is also a grown woman and a member of this council. It is no longer my duty to keep watch over her personal movements."

  "Are you mocking me, Commander?" the King snapped, his voice echoing in the vast, empty throne room. "She is supposed to be the pride of Ruhong! And last night, she vanished, shaming me in front of our most important guest. Dr. Wilburt from Volnear himself inquired as to her whereabouts, and I had no answer to give him. She has made a mockery of this banquet and, by extension, this kingdom!"

  The King stood, his voice now a low, dangerous command. "By royal decree, I order you, Commander Lihua, and you, Xiang Feng, to find Lin Meihua and bring her to me. I want to hear from her own mouth what excuse she has for this behavior. Understood?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty!" Zhu and Xiang Feng shouted in unison, their heads bowed low.

  "Go, then." The King waved a dismissive hand.

  Xiang Feng, looking relieved to be dismissed, quickly stood, bowed again, and scurried out of the throne room. Zhu Lihua, however, did not move. Once the heavy doors had closed behind the young councilman, she rose to her feet, not with the deference of a subject, but with a slow, deliberate grace that held a chilling amount of power.

  In a blur of motion, she was directly in front of the King's throne, her face inches from his. The King flinched back, his eyes wide with shock and a flicker of fear.

  "You rule this kingdom, Qin Hong." Zhu’s voice was a low, dangerous hiss, far more terrifying than the King's shouting. "I have seen kingdoms like yours rise and fall like the seasons. You know who I am. The four great families know who I am. Remember that before you dare bark orders at me again."

  The King could only nod, trembling. A wave of heat radiated from Zhu, so intense that he could swear the very amber of his throne was beginning to soften and melt at the edges.

  "Good." Her voice returned to its normal, sharp tone as she stepped back. "As long as you understand." She turned toward the door, her expression shifting from one of menace to one of genuine concern. "Don't worry, I'll find Lin. I also want to know what's going on with her myself."

  With a final, almost casual wave, she walked out of the throne room, leaving the King of Ruhong alone and shaken in his slightly warped throne.

  Meanwhile, in the northwest section of Jinlun City, the birds were chirping peacefully outside a taped-up window. The torrential downpour of the night before had given way to a clear, bright morning.

  Inside the small apartment, a figure stirred once, then twice. Lin Meihua jolted awake, her silver eyes snapping open, her mind a thick fog of confusion. She slowly scanned the room.

  Where...?

  She looked down at herself. She was covered by a thin, wool blanket. This is not my blanket, she whispered, her voice a dry rasp. Her gaze swept over the small, unfamiliar room. The wobbly table, the crate-chairs, the wardrobe with no door. No maids preparing her clothes, no servants cleaning. She was completely alone.

  Her initial thought was a jolt of panic. Was I kidnapped? But she wasn't bound. Her limbs were free, though they ached with a dull soreness. Then, a sharp, pounding pain shot through her skull. Why does my head hurt so much? she thought, pressing the palm of her hand to her temple.

  Just then, a low growl echoed in the quiet room. It was her stomach, rumbling with a hunger she hadn't felt in years.

  "Oh, nice. You're finally awake." A voice called out from the small kitchen area. "I thought you were going to sleep forever. I was about to splash some water on you to make sure you were still alive."

  Lin's head snapped toward the voice. A young man with unkempt black hair stood there, wiping his hands on a rag. He was scrawny, his frame looking malnourished under his simple clothes. He had no striking features, nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. He was utterly, completely ordinary.

  "Who...?" she whispered, her voice weak.

  Instead of answering, the young man simply smiled and gestured to his own cheek, tapping it lightly. Confused, Lin mirrored the gesture, touching her own cheek. She felt it immediately—a small, sticky streak of wet drool.

  She quickly wiped it away, a hot blush creeping up her neck and flooding her face with color. I was drooling, she thought, her mind reeling with a mortification so intense it momentarily eclipsed her confusion. In a room that isn't mine. With a boy I don't know. The thought was horrifying. If anyone ever saw the 'Snow Flower' in this state, I would die from embarrassment.

  Lin cleared her throat, her face still burning with a faint blush. She stood up quickly, her movements a bit stiff, but she composed herself instantly, the regal, cold persona of the 'Snow Flower' falling back into place like a familiar suit of armor.

  "First of all," she began, her voice cool and measured, "do you know where this is? And how did I get here? I can't seem to remember."

  The young man raised an eyebrow. "You serious, lady? You don't remember what happened last night?"

  "I don't..." Lin was about to say, but she was cut off by another sharp, blinding pang of pain in her head. And then, everything came rushing back in a dizzying, unwelcome flood. The banquet. The suffocating crowd. Her desperate attempt to drown them out with wine. The intoxication. Her frantic escape into the rainstorm. The aimless walking. The humiliating fall in the alleyway. This young man's quiet voice offering his hand. Her own uncharacteristic, raw outburst. And finally, the feeling of being carried through the storm to this very room. Everything came back in full, vivid detail.

  The young man watched the series of emotions—horror, shame, realization—play across her face. "Yeah, judging from that expression, now you remember everything, right?" His tone was gentle. "You were pretty intoxicated when I found you. Must've been some party."

  Lin couldn't answer. Her stomach chose that moment to answer for her, letting out another long, loud growl that echoed in the small room. A fresh wave of red washed over her cheeks. This was the third embarrassing thing that had happened in front of this complete stranger. Please just kill me now, she thought, burying her face in her palms. Why do I continue to be like this in front of him?

  "Seems like your stomach is at least honest, miss." The young man offered a small, kind smile. "I'm preparing breakfast. If you don't mind waiting, you can have some. Or maybe you want to take a quick shower? You did get pretty drenched last night." He gestured with his thumb toward the small bathroom door.

  Lin looked down at her ruined dress. It was stained with mud, wrinkled, and still damp. "If you don't mind," she said, her voice regaining a sliver of its usual composure, "I shall take that offer for a shower."

  The young man nodded, and Lin walked to the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind her. The moment the lock clicked, her strength seemed to leave her knees. She leaned against the door for a second, her face buried in her palms once again, still unable to believe the embarrassing display she had shown to a complete stranger.

  After a moment, she scanned the bathroom. Like the main room, it was simple and worn, but nothing stood out other than how clean it was. He must really take care of this place properly, she thought. She disrobed, her expensive gown now a ruined mess on the floor, and stepped into the shower stall. As she turned the dial, water sprayed down on her. It was shockingly cold.

  “Kyaaa..” A small shriek escaped her lips, sharp and involuntary.

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  Immediately, there was a loud banging on the door. "Hey! What's going on in there? Is everything alright?" the young man's voice called out, laced with panic.

  "It's fine!" Lin called back, her teeth chattering slightly. She hesitated, then asked, her voice filled with genuine confusion, "Don't you have any warm water for bathing?"

  There was a pause from the other side of the door. "Warm water?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused himself. "That's how the water usually is after a rainstorm. It's cold."

  Lin didn't understand. In the Amber Palace, the bathing chambers were always filled with warm, scented water, heated by the maids long before anyone used them. I guess this man doesn't have something like that, she thought, a new wave of culture shock washing over her. How can people live like this? Bracing herself, she stepped fully into the icy spray.

  After a quick, cold shower, Lin stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed but still deeply out of her element. She was wearing a simple, clean shirt and pants that were clearly not hers; the sleeves were too short, ending at her forearms, and the pant legs stopped well above her ankles.

  "Sorry, that's the only clean clothes I have." The young man gestured to the ill-fitting outfit. "Wasn't exactly expecting a girl as company, you know."

  "It's alright," Lin answered meekly. "It's enough."

  "Right. Well, I made breakfast, if you want some." He pointed with his thumb toward the small stove where a simple pot was simmering.

  Lin nodded, but she didn't move, her eyes darting between the wobbly table and the beer crates. She clearly didn't know where to sit.

  "Oh, shoot." The young man realized her dilemma. He quickly grabbed one of the empty beer crates, took a small, clean cushion, and placed it neatly on top. "Here, please sit here."

  Lin hesitated for a moment, then, not wanting to be rude, she obliged and sat down.

  A few seconds later, a simple wooden bowl was placed on the table in front of her, followed by a chipped teacup. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing, right?" The young man offered a self-deprecating smile.

  The bowl contained a plain, white porridge, seasoned with nothing more than a pinch of salt and a few flecks of chopped green onion. There were no extravagant toppings, no rare herbs, nothing like the elaborate meals she was served daily at the Amber Palace. It was the simplest food she had seen in years.

  "Then I shall indulge," she said, her voice quiet. She picked up the spoon and began to eat.

  What followed was a long, comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional, soft clinking of the spoon against the wooden bowl. Neither of them knew what to say in this bizarre situation. But for Lin, the simple peace and quiet felt... nice. For the first time in years, someone was in her presence without wanting anything. No favors, no marriage proposals, no strategic opinions. Just silence. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

  For the young man, however, the silence was a storm. His anxiety was about to burst. A beautiful young woman, wearing my clothes, her silver eyes dazzling in the morning light... this clearly noble girl, possibly a Sacred, is eating my cheaply made food. With ingredients I got at a discount because they were about to expire. Is this right? I hope she doesn't get sick from this. Wait, what if she does get sick? Will I get arrested? If I do, I'll claim that lady from the market as my accomplice. No, no, compose yourself, man. A hurricane of thoughts raged in his head.

  "Thank you for the—" "So, about last—"

  They both spoke at once, their voices colliding in the quiet room before immediately falling silent again. An awkwardness so thick you could cut it with a knife overwhelmed them.

  Lin regained her composure first, her voice regaining a touch of its formal grace. "You may go first."

  "No, no, ladies first." The young man waved his hands in a flustered gesture.

  "Very well." She set her spoon down. "May I have your name?"

  He looked confused. "Name?"

  "Your name," she clarified, her tone patient. "You surely have one. You gave me shelter from the storm and provided this breakfast. The least I can do is thank you properly."

  "Oh, right, right! My name." He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's Kun."

  "Kun..." she repeated, the name feeling unfamiliar on her tongue. "Kun who?"

  "Just Kun."

  "No family name?" she asked quietly, her silver eyes studying him. "Odd."

  "Weird, right?" He quickly refilled her teacup to busy his hands. "But I'm used to it. Don't think too much about it."

  Lin put her palm to her mouth, a flicker of her earlier embarrassment returning. "My apologies, I didn't mean to—"

  "No, no, it's okay," he interrupted, his voice kind. "People always get confused at first. It makes sense after I explain." He took a breath, his voice a little softer now. "I was an orphan since birth. No parents ever adopted me. The name... it was something the orphanage director, Miss Yinzi, gave me. That's why I have no surname." He let out a small, awkward laugh.

  Lin bowed her head slightly. "I must apologize once more. I was being rude."

  "No, it's alright. I'm used to it, really." Kun leaned forward slightly, a curious glint in his eyes. "So, miss, I think it's time for you to tell me your name too, isn't it?"

  Her name. Lin paused, her spoon hovering over the bowl. Should I lie? The thought came instantly, a conditioned reflex. My face is on posters all over the city. A lie would be a temporary, foolish shield. But then, another thought followed, one that surprised her. If I tell him the truth, will he change? Will that quiet kindness in his eyes be replaced by the same distant awe she saw in everyone else?

  She was confused. Lying should be easy. It was a tool, a necessary part of the political theater at the Amber Palace. Nobles lied to her daily, and she lied back with a serene smile, a carefully constructed dance to maintain her perfect mask. So why now? Why, in front of this ordinary young man in his shabby, clean room, did the thought of a simple lie feel so... wrong? So difficult?

  Kun tilted his head, waiting patiently for her answer.

  Lin let out a long, slow sigh, the sound a mix of resignation and a strange, newfound resolve. She chose the truth.

  "I am Lin Meihua," she declared, her voice clear and steady, her silver eyes meeting his directly. "Member of Jinlun's High Council, and of the Azure Dragon lineage."

  The spoon in Kun's hand clattered into his own half-eaten bowl of porridge. His eyes went wide. "Lin... Meihua? Wait, you mean the Lady Meihua? The Snow Flower of Jinlun? That famous Lady Meihua?"

  Lin simply nodded, a familiar sense of dread coiling in her stomach.

  Kun immediately scrambled off his crate-chair and dropped to the floor, his palms and forehead pressed against the wooden boards in a deep, formal kowtow. "I'm so sorry, Lady Meihua!" he blurted out, his voice muffled by the floor. "Had I known it was you, I wouldn't have been so rude and casual! I apologize for the porridge, and the room, and the shower, and the—"

  This again, Lin thought, the warmth of their quiet breakfast instantly evaporating. The kind, meek, gentle young man was gone, replaced by just another civilian terrified of her status. Why does this always happen? She didn't want this. She didn't want the bowing, the fear, the titles.

  "Please, stand up," she said, her voice regaining its cold, regal edge. "I am not offended. I order you to stop."

  But Kun didn't move. "No, I can't stand up," he mumbled into the floorboards. "I think... I believe that porridge was a sin. It was too salty."

  "No, it wasn't." Lin insisted, her voice softening slightly as she tried to get him to look up. "It was warm and nice."

  "Warm and nice?" Kun's head lifted just enough for her to see his panicked eyes. "Are you lying, Lady Meihua? That porridge was like eighty percent water and salt."

  "I am not lying." Her patience was wearing thin. "The breakfast was quiet and peaceful. I enjoyed it. Now, please, stand up." She reached down, and with a surprising lack of effort, hooked her hands under his arms and lifted him back to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

  "Please, I'm sorry, don't execute me!" Kun yelped, stumbling as he found his footing.

  "I'm not going to execute anyone." Lin let out an exasperated sigh. "Believe me, you haven't done anything wrong."

  "But Jack said..." Kun started, then clamped his mouth shut.

  "Who is Jack?" Her silver eyes narrowed with curiosity.

  "Jack the Rabbit Sacred guy," Kun explained, still looking terrified. "I work with him at the warehouse. You know, buff, but he has these fluffy rabbit ears that don't match his stature at all."

  "I don't know anyone like that." Her voice was sharp with irritation.

  "He told me you're the master of executing people for the smallest annoyance!" Kun blurted out.

  "Why would this Jack make such a baseless claim about me?" Her irritation grew.

  "Because he told me he knows you!"

  "Who?" Lin asked, now completely lost.

  "Jack!"

  They both stared at each other for a long, silent moment. The absurdity of the conversation—a high councilwoman and a janitor arguing about a rumor from a Rabbit Sacred named Jack—finally broke through the tension. A small, unexpected snort of laughter escaped Lin's lips. Then another.

  Kun, seeing her laugh, let out a nervous chuckle of his own, which quickly turned into a full, hearty laugh of relief.

  "Why are we laughing?" Kun asked between breaths, wiping a tear from his eye.

  "I don't know." A genuine, beautiful smile finally reached her silver eyes. "You laughed first."

  "No, I'm pretty sure it was you." Kun shot back, his own smile wide and unguarded.

  They both laughed once again, the last of the morning's tension melting away. When their laughter finally subsided, they just looked at each other, the awkwardness replaced by a strange, new sense of ease.

  "So." Kun cleared his throat. "Want to restart this introduction?"

  Lin nodded.

  "Alright." He stood a little straighter. "I'm Kun. Orphan, twenty years old. Came to Jinlun to seek fame and glory, but... still working on that last part."

  "I am Lin Meihua," she replied, her voice softer than before. "And please, don't believe those baseless rumors. I am not a barbarian who executes people when I'm irritated." She paused, a small, almost shy smile on her lips. "Half-Sacred, forty-seven years old. And please... call me Lin."

  "So old..." Kun whispered accidentally, his eyes wide.

  "Hey, I heard that! How rude!" A playful pout formed on her lips as she lightly smacked his forehead. "I am still in my twenties if we convert it to human years. Still young. Not like Master Lihua."

  "Ouch! I'm sorry!" Kun yelped, clasping his palms together in a mock apology. "You're weird."

  "So rude!" she said again, but this time she was laughing.

  This is nice, Lin thought to herself as their playful banter continued. Is this what I've been missing all my life? Not the glory of the battlefield, not the connections with high-ranking people, not the riches she had accumulated. But this. This simple, unguarded moment in a decrepit apartment, with a scrawny, ordinary young man who had, for a brief moment, melted the Snow Flower.

  Suddenly, a deafeningly loud ringing blared through the small room.

  "What is that sound?" Lin asked, her hand instinctively going to her ear. "Is it an enemy attack?"

  "That? That's my clock." Kun pointed to a cheap, rusted metal clock on a shelf that was somehow producing enough volume to wake the entire neighborhood. "It's time for me to go to work." He turned to her, his earlier cheerfulness fading slightly. "How about you?"

  The question hung in the air, and the reality of her situation came crashing back down. "It's already noon," she murmured, a wave of dejection washing over her. "Then I must go back, too. The people at the Amber Palace must be looking for me."

  Neither of them said anything as they walked to the front door. Kun handed her a simple cloth bag, inside of which he had neatly folded her ruined, but now dry, banquet gown.

  "So, here it is." Kun’s voice was quiet. "This is where we part ways."

  Lin nodded, her throat suddenly tight. This is it, she thought, her heart sinking. Our unlikely meeting ends here. I can't burden him any further. He's already given me a moment of peace. She turned and started to walk down the rickety stairs.

  But can she be selfish? Just for once?

  Yes, a voice inside her declared, a voice she hadn't heard in a long, long time. For once in my life, I want to be the selfish one.

  She spun around and ran back up the stairs, stopping right in front of a very surprised Kun.

  "May... May I come back here?" she asked, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Once in a while?"

  Kun looked at her, his surprise melting into a gentle, knowing smile. "You sure you want to come back to this old and decrepit place?"

  Lin nodded vigorously, a hopeful light returning to her silver eyes.

  "Then you're welcome to," he answered.

  A bright, genuine smile—the first one she had truly felt all day—spread across Lin's face. With a renewed vigor in her step, she turned and walked back toward the palace. For the first time in her life, she had found a place where the Snow Flower could melt.