The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

"The evening chill carries away the morning cold."

Tangxi Xue gave the order.

Mu Liang appeared as if on cue, landing silently at the edge of the water prison like a ghost.

He didn't even glance at his brother's miserable state, nor did he care what this action meant. He simply drew his short blade from his waist in silence, and with a flash of cold light, precisely severed the heavy iron chains binding Chao Han.

"Clang—"

The piercing sound of metal breaking echoed in the narrow space.

Immediately, he leaned into the water, pulled the almost unconscious Chao Han up, and carried her steadily on his broad back.

His movements were swift and steady, as if he had practiced them countless times.

"Your Highness! Your forceful entry into the execution platform and your arbitrary release of prisoners demonstrate a complete disregard for etiquette and palace rules. This is truly outrageous behavior."

Shen Xian could no longer contain himself. He strode to the entrance of the water prison, his handsome face appearing particularly serious in the flickering firelight, and his tone more solemn than ever before.

"Etiquette and rules?"

Tang Xixue interrupted him and slowly stepped out of the icy water.

Her soaked skirt clung to her body, dripping icy water, but she was oblivious, only looking up at Shen Xian.

His eyes held an arrogant air of looking down on others and disregarding the rules.

"Minister Shen seems to have forgotten that within this palace, I, the princess—am the embodiment of propriety!"

She took a step forward, closing in on Shen Xian, exuding an unassailable aura of authority.

"Rules are never meant to be followed by those who make them. Does Minister Shen understand this?"

Shen Xian's breath caught in his throat. He was shocked by the undisguised arrogance and domineering nature in her words. His gentle mask finally cracked, revealing his true astonishment and hidden anger.

"If Minister Shen has any grievances, he may go to the Emperor to lodge a complaint."

Tang Xixue withdrew her gaze, her tone indifferent, carrying a hint of undisguised contempt.

"However, if you want to punish this princess... Minister Shen, you are not qualified."

After saying that, she stopped looking at him and turned away.

"Let's go."

Mu Liang carried Chao Han on his back and followed silently.

As Tang Xixue passed by Shen Xian, she paused slightly and unhesitatingly took off the brocade cloak that was still warm from her body.

She tiptoed and gently draped the heavy fabric, still carrying her scent, over Mu Liang's back.

"Flush your clothes and go to the Imperial Hospital immediately to summon the imperial physician on duty to the Hall of Longevity."

She gave instructions while tying the sash of her cloak.

"Yes, Your Highness."

He accepted the order with a flick of his sleeve, and in a flash, he disappeared into the thick darkness outside the door.

Tang Xixue glanced at Shen Xian one last time, her eyes completely unmoved.

The execution platform was left in a deathly silence, filled with a chilling atmosphere. Only Shen Xian's tightly clenched fist, his knuckles turning bluish-white, and the complex look of offense in his eyes.

"Minister Shen, Her Highness the Princess's actions... how should we report this?"

A clerk from the execution platform stepped forward, his voice extremely low, his face showing embarrassment.

What happened tonight has truly exceeded their authority to handle.

Shen Xian stood still, watching the figures outside the door being quickly swallowed up by the thick night. Chao Han had already been taken away in a sedan chair.

The remaining firelight in the corridor danced on his handsome profile, making his eyes appear deep, dark, and unfathomable.

After a long pause, he slowly spoke, his voice still steady, revealing little emotion, only a businesslike solemnity:

"Record tonight's events truthfully. Tomorrow, this official will personally report to the Emperor."

After the registrar bowed and withdrew, several whispers, though barely suppressed, still drifted out from the corner.

The sound was particularly jarring in the empty, cold corridor of the torture chamber.

"Shen Shangqing's fiancée... sigh, really..."

"Who can argue with that? With someone like that around, the Shen family's century-old reputation is likely to be tarnished."

"It's more than just being covered in dust. Haven't you heard? The head guard who was just taken away from the water dungeon was convicted for kidnapping the Grand Preceptor and General Feng..."

"The princess dared to storm the execution platform for a mere guard. Tsk... she might not be innocent either."

"Who are those two? The Imperial Preceptor is as noble as an immortal, and General Feng is as fiery as the sun, yet they are both..."

"Sigh, it seems that Minister Shen's head is no longer covered by green clouds, but rather an endless grassland, isn't it?"

Shen Xian remained standing in the same spot, his posture as upright as bamboo, as if he had not heard anything.

But deep within those eyes, which were always warm and smiling, a faint yet extremely cold look of disgust flashed across them.

However, even after hearing such vile speculations and ridicule, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, but he ultimately did not utter a single harsh word to his fiancée who had just left.

A century of refinement within a distinguished family is like an impregnable fortress, firmly locking away all the turmoil of unbearable suffering and humiliation within a shell forged of grace and etiquette.

"Anyone who speaks ill of the princess or slanders the imperial family shall, in accordance with Article 7 of the Criminal Law, go and receive twenty strokes of the cane."

After he finished speaking, not a single word was added, and his figure remained as majestic as a jade mountain.

No matter how absurd and rebellious Tang Xixue's actions may be, she is still his betrothed, Shen Xian's, and the ninth princess recorded in the golden register of the Chenyao Dynasty.

This identity cannot tolerate even the slightest criticism.

Meanwhile, the Hall of Longevity was brightly lit.

"Hurry! Save them!"

The imperial physician was urgently summoned late at night and dared not delay in the slightest. He was carefully treating the dying Chao Han in a side hall.

The heat from the herbal decoction mixed with the aroma of the wound medicine, attempting to dispel the bone-chilling coldness brought back from the execution platform.

In the other side hall, Pei Yanchuan's thin blue robe looked like a piece of silk that could be torn at any moment.

The cold wind was like a knife, seeping in through the cracks.

No one repairs this place, and the wooden door that never closes properly still lets in drafts.

There was no earthen floor here, the charcoal brazier was cold, and he had no money to buy charcoal.

He used to be a nobody in the Hall of Longevity. Princess Jing took him in, but didn't pay much attention to him.

The air was so cold and solid that each breath felt like swallowing tiny ice crystals.

He dared not light the candle.

It's not that we don't have them, but that we can't bear to part with them.

That thumb-length piece of candle remnant should be saved for when it's truly needed.

He walked to the window and, by the faint light of the snowy night, placed the writing implements he was carrying, one by one, on the rickety old table.

The movements were so slow they were almost ritualistic.

First, there was the jade pen mountain, the jade itself warm to the touch.

The moonlight and snowlight mingled together, filtering through the tattered window paper and falling on the jade, reflecting a hazy, flowing blue, like the heart of a frozen lake in the dead of night.

Then comes the pen.

The tip of the brush gleamed with a deep purple luster in the dim light. He dared not actually touch the tip, but only lightly brushed his fingertips over the dark patterns engraved on the brush handle—a small, almost invisible iris.

His fingertips lingered there for a long time.

The ink stick was heavy, and the scent of pine soot wafted through the oiled paper—a calming and reassuring bitter fragrance.

He stood there, in the icy side hall, using the stingiest light in the world to look at these overly beautiful things that shouldn't belong to him.

This was the only act of kindness he had received in all these years.

A chill crept up his body from his feet, and the thin quilt lay on the narrow couch, where he knew it wouldn't be any warmer.

Outside the window, the snow fell silently.

Inside the window, the boy huddled in a corner, but his gaze held a hint of warmth.

Princess Mirror, she doesn't seem to be that bad.