Volume 1, Chapter 34: Jealousy

White Horse Temple, the royal temple of the Great Zhou Dynasty, was established at the very inception of the empire. Through the generations, it has been renovated by successive emperors, long ago becoming a place of grand scale and flourishing incense.

The temple is nestled halfway up a mountain, with its back against lush green peaks and facing clear waters. It is a place of spiritual resonance and serene majesty.

As Li Xuan and Xiao Ningshuang stepped off their carriage, a monk, having been notified in advance, came forward to greet them with profound respect. Li Xuan waved a hand, signaling him to keep things quiet; today, he merely wished to be an ordinary pilgrim.

The two walked side by side along the bluestone-paved path. The air was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and the crisp aroma of pine and cypress, a fragrance that naturally eased the mind.

Xiao Ningshuang clearly enjoyed the atmosphere; the nerves she kept tightly coiled year-round seemed to loosen. She walked beside Li Xuan with light, steady steps, her gaze curiously taking in the surrounding halls and pavilions. In her cold, phoenix-like eyes, a rare, pure glimmer of a young girl’s wonder flickered to life.

Li Xuan watched her from the side, not wishing to disturb her, occasionally offering a gentle smile whenever she glanced his way.

They first visited the Mahavira Hall, kneeling side by side upon the prayer mats.

Xiao Ningshuang closed her eyes and pressed her palms together in devout prayer. Li Xuan did not know what she was wishing for, but he could feel that, in this moment, the woman beside him had shed all her disguises and defenses, laying bare the softest part of her heart before the gods and Buddhas.

Li Xuan did not close his eyes; he simply gazed quietly at the massive gilded statue of the Buddha. He had never believed in the divine, trusting only in himself. Yet, at this moment, he hoped that if gods and Buddhas truly existed, they would protect the woman beside him, ensuring her life would be smooth and untroubled forevermore.

Leaving the Mahavira Hall, the two strolled toward the back courtyard.

The courtyard contained a dense bamboo forest, within which lay a clear lotus pond. As it was early summer, the pond was filled with lush lotus leaves, and sporadic pink buds were already beginning to bloom.

The scenery was tranquil, a picture of peaceful time.

Just then, a melodious sound of a zither drifted from the depths of the bamboo grove, carried by the breeze. The tune was gentle and fluid, like a clear spring trickling through the mountains, soothing and refreshing to the spirit.

"Oh? Someone playing the zither in the temple?" Li Xuan asked, intrigued.

Xiao Ningshuang also paused to listen. Though not skilled in music, she could still perceive the elegance and grace within the melody.

Following the sound, they traversed a winding, secluded path, and the view suddenly opened up.

Beneath the shade of the bamboo, they found a small pavilion. Inside, a woman in a simple, plain-colored dress sat before a stone table, her eyes cast down as she played the zither.

Her figure was slender and her temperament gentle. A simple jade hairpin held her dark hair, her features were as exquisite as a painting, and her skin was fairer than snow. She blended into the tranquil scenery as perfectly as a soft ink-wash painting.

It was none other than the capital’s most talented woman, Song Qingwan.

Seeming to sense their arrival, the music stopped abruptly. Song Qingwan looked up, and when she saw Li Xuan, her gentle, watery eyes first flashed with surprise, then dissolved into an undisguised joy.

"Xuan... Your Highness the Crown Prince?" She hurriedly rose and bowed gracefully, her voice as soft as liquid.

"Qingwan? Why are you here?" Li Xuan was quite surprised; he had not expected to encounter his childhood sweetheart here.

"My mother has been unwell lately, so I came to pray for her and spend a few days in quiet cultivation," Song Qingwan explained softly, her gaze remaining fixed on Li Xuan, her eyes brimming with a hidden, deep-seated affection.

"I see. Your mother's health is of the utmost importance," Li Xuan nodded.

Standing to the side, Xiao Ningshuang had moved half a step behind Li Xuan the moment she saw Song Qingwan. Looking at this woman as gentle as water, and observing the undisguised way she looked at Li Xuan, a strange and indescribable feeling arose in her heart.

She knew of Song Qingwan, of course. The daughter of the Prime Minister, the most talented woman in the capital, and the Crown Prince’s childhood sweetheart who had grown up alongside him.

There was a time when the entire capital assumed the future Crown Princess would surely be her.

"Your Highness... you have grown much thinner, and... you seem different from before," Song Qingwan said softly, looking at Li Xuan. Her tone held a trace of heartache and even more admiration. She had already heard the poem he composed at the Lantern Festival, and it had left her deeply shaken.

"People always change," Li Xuan smiled. He turned, naturally intending to introduce Xiao Ningshuang, who stood beside him.

However, when he saw Xiao Ningshuang’s expression, he paused.

She still wore her usual cold mask, but Li Xuan keenly sensed that the aura around her had dropped several degrees. Her phoenix eyes, though seemingly calm, appeared to have a thin layer of ice forming in their depths.

Li Xuan’s heart sank; he realized he had made a mistake.

He quickly took Xiao Ningshuang’s hand and introduced her to Song Qingwan: "Qingwan, this is the Crown Princess. You met at the Lantern Festival."

His hand was warm and dry; as he held Xiao Ningshuang’s slightly cool hand, her body stiffened, but she did not pull away.

Song Qingwan’s gaze finally fell upon Xiao Ningshuang. As she looked at the woman known as the greatest beauty of the Great Zhou, a complex array of emotions flashed through her eyes—awe, envy, and a flicker of subtle disappointment. She quickly masked it, however, and bowed gracefully to Xiao Ningshuang: "Qingwan greets the Crown Princess."

"Miss Song need not be so formal," Xiao Ningshuang replied, her voice colder than usual.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

To break the tension, Li Xuan began chatting with Song Qingwan.

"Come to think of it, I remember when we were young, you were the most afraid of coming to temples," Li Xuan recalled, a nostalgic smile on his face. "Once, we snuck to the back mountain, and you were so frightened by a wild rabbit that you cried loudly. I had to carry you back on my shoulders."

At these words, a rosy blush bloomed on Song Qingwan’s cheeks. She cast him a coquettish, reproving glance: "Your Highness, why bring up such embarrassing things? Back then, wasn't it you who fell off the rockery, and I had to go fetch someone to help?"

"Haha, really? Why don't I remember that?"

"Your Highness is simply prone to forgetting things."

The two exchanged words, reminiscing about various childhood anecdotes. From sneaking peeks at the tutor’s hidden picture books to digging for birds' nests in the Imperial Garden—the sealed memories were unlocked, and the atmosphere became relaxed and familiar.

A soft, genuine smile hung on Li Xuan’s face, one he didn't even notice himself. It was the relaxation and naturalness one only shows to an old friend.

However, he failed to notice that every time he smiled, the air pressure around Xiao Ningshuang dropped further.

Xiao Ningshuang stood there quietly, like an outsider.

She listened to them talk about a past she had never been a part of and watched that gentle smile on Li Xuan’s face—a smile she had never seen before. She suddenly felt that she was the one who was redundant.

A strange, sour emotion sprouted from the depths of her heart like a vine, tightly constricting her heart and making it hard to breathe.

So, this is what he is like when he is with others.

So, he isn't always so irreverent and fond of jokes with everyone.

So, his gentleness can be given to others, too.

The woman named Song Qingwan was gentle, beautiful, and talented; every movement was filled with literary grace. She was like a pool of spring water, while she herself was a block of eternal, frozen ice.

Perhaps... people like them were truly the ones meant to be a pair.

The moment this thought surfaced, Xiao Ningshuang’s heart felt as if it had been pierced by a needle, a sharp, stinging pain.

She did not understand why she thought this.

Wasn't their union just a political alliance? Begun for the sake of profit, it should end for the sake of profit. Why was she feeling so distressed because he was chatting and laughing with another woman?

Her heart, which had just begun to thaw, now felt as if it had been cast into the biting winds of the far north, freezing over again, bit by bit. Only this time, beneath the ice, there was no hatred, but a grievance—unclear and nameless—called "jealousy."

"Ningshuang? Ningshuang?" Li Xuan finally sensed something was wrong and gently shook her hand.

Xiao Ningshuang snapped back to reality, pulling her hand away. Her voice was so cold it felt as if ice shards were falling from it: "Your Highness, I am feeling a bit tired. I would like to return."

Seeing the frost-covered face of the woman before him, even a fool would have understood what was happening.

His heart was filled with amusement, helplessness, and a trace of... secret joy.

This iceberg was actually jealous.

Song Qingwan, sharp and clever, also noticed the subtle shift in the air. She immediately rose to take her leave: "Your Highness, Crown Princess, Qingwan should return to chant scriptures for my mother. I shall not disturb you both any further."

"Very well, take care of yourself," Li Xuan nodded.

Song Qingwan took one last deep look at Li Xuan, glanced at the expressionless Xiao Ningshuang, and turned away, vanishing into the depths of the bamboo forest like a wisp of smoke.

In the pavilion, only Li Xuan and Xiao Ningshuang remained.

The atmosphere of peaceful tranquility had long since vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.

"That..." Li Xuan scratched his head, attempting to explain. "Her and I, we are just friends who grew up together. There is nothing between us."

Xiao Ningshuang did not look at him; she simply turned and began walking straight down the mountain.

Her back was perfectly straight, and every step felt as if it were treading upon Li Xuan’s heart.

Li Xuan gave a bitter smile and hurried to catch up.

In the carriage on the way back, the atmosphere was stifling to the extreme. Xiao Ningshuang leaned against the window, saying nothing, hiding all her emotions behind that icy mask.

Li Xuan tried to speak several times, but he did not know what to say.

He knew that this trouble was harder to handle than any political crisis he had faced before. For this time, he was dealing with the heart of a woman.