The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

"My lord!"

Qi Zhu was shocked and took half a step forward.

Si Xingxuan waved his hand and wiped the corner of his mouth with a blood-stained handkerchief, his movements slow but steady.

When he looked up again, the anger in his eyes had been replaced by a deeper chill, like a poisoned blade, gleaming coldly in the dim starlight.

"besides……"

Qi Zhu's voice was even weaker, almost inaudible, but he still gritted his teeth and reported it.

"Over there... I also inquired about the whereabouts of the newly acquired batch of rare medical books..."

"What?!"

Si Xingxuan's expression changed drastically; his anger was instantly replaced by vigilance and sternness.

"Damn it—"

He cursed under his breath, his voice hoarse from coughing up blood, yet carrying an undeniable air of fierceness:

"Qizhu! Issue the order: triple the manpower—no, mobilize the Star Shadow Guards—and immediately move that batch of medical books to Divine Medicine Valley! Go now!"

"Go tell Tang Xiye that if he dares to touch my batch of books..."

"Then let him think twice about whether the iron cavalry of the Xingze Empire can be easily dealt with by his Beichen border garrison!"

He took a deep breath, suppressing his surging blood and violent temper, his tone carrying a hidden tenderness that even he himself was unaware of:

"Hmph, those books... she specifically gave them to me. Nobody can take them!"

He spoke the last half sentence very softly, almost as if it were dissipating into the air, yet it was inexplicably tinged with a sweetness.

"Yes! I'll take care of it immediately!"

Qi Zhu dared not delay and hastily withdrew.

As he turned around, the strange feeling in his heart grew stronger.

"Our lord has been quite ill lately..."

"Should we send a message to His Majesty Xingze and think of another way to find a folk remedy for our lord...?"

The Emperor's anxiety over Princess Jing's old belongings, his extraordinary appreciation for those medical books, and his overreaction upon hearing of the palace's intervention...

I always felt there was something strange about it that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

It didn't seem like simple possessiveness or a calculation of interests; it was more like... touching some forbidden territory that should never be touched.

The auction is still ongoing.

The auctioneer's clear and loud voice called out the price from below; it was for "Yanxueju".

The price has soared to three million gold coins, and the atmosphere inside is heated, clearly indicating that many people are eyeing this prime location next to the Beichen Prince's Mansion.

Whether it's for climbing the social ladder, spying, or something else.

"Three and a half million."

The representative of the Beichen Prince's Mansion called out an astonishingly high price.

The room fell silent for a moment, with countless eyes turned toward the Sunshine Hall, the gavel about to fall.

However, at that very moment...

"Star sinks into the sea, price increased by one million gold coins."

Si Xingxuan's clear, slightly hoarse voice, like ice beads falling onto a jade plate, resounded clearly throughout the auction hall.

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The auctioneer's hand, which had been hovering in mid-air, froze. He looked up in disbelief at the faintly lit attic at the highest point.

The steward of the Beichen Prince's mansion turned ashen-faced and hurriedly turned to the figure hidden deep within the gauze curtain behind him, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

In the shadows, Bei Chenji's thin lips were pressed into a cold, straight line, but his eyes were calm and unfathomable, like a bottomless pool of ice.

"Investigate and see who is opposing me!"

He spoke to Qian Su, who was always by his side, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger, yet it made the surrounding air freeze.

"Light the sky lantern."

He raised his hand, and outside the Sunshine Hall, a glass lantern silently lit up, its light dazzling.

The moment the lantern was lit, it meant that no matter how much the other party raised the price, he was determined to keep the house.

This is both a declaration and a provocation from the King of Beichen.

Inside the elegant pavilion, the light and shadows were soft and dim.

Hua Rongshi leaned against the soft silk pillow, her gold-flecked folding fan twirling half a circle between her fingertips. The bright peach blossoms painted on the fan seemed about to drift away in the wind and fall into this world of extravagance and sensual pleasures.

A smug, triumphant smile bloomed in her peach blossom eyes:

"Tsk, which deity did my cousin offend?"

His voice held a playful, inquisitive tone.

"That's... intriguing."

Before he could finish speaking, a cold, sharp gaze swept over him, the chill feeling like a tangible piercing his skin.

Bei Chenji sat upright in the depths of the shadows, his aura so deep it could condense into frost.

His handsome, sculpted face was expressionless, except for his slightly pursed lips, which betrayed his terrible mood.

If Tang Xixue hadn't been so ungrateful as to put that house up for auction, why would he need to be here bidding against others and attracting attention for no reason?

Thinking of his niece, who never acted according to common sense and was always willful, he felt a dull ache in his temples.

That girl was spoiled rotten by Tang Xiye since she was a child, and that guy was very protective of her, so he couldn't hit or scold her. He could only suffer this injustice.

"Tang Xixue—she's really not likable."

He murmured the name, a hint of irritation and coldness grinding between his teeth, like an ice blade scraping against jade.

"Yes, yes, my cousin is right."

When she looked beautiful, she covered her lips with a fan, her eyes sparkling, and her smile deepened.

"Your little cloud-painted heart is the most adorable."

"She's got it all figured out. She's got her own brother hooked up with her, and she's got my cousin completely smitten. I bet half the young noblemen of Baiyujing have dreamt of being under her spell, haven't they?"

He paused, his voice becoming even more mocking, like a poisoned needle dipped in honey:

"Who knows how many infatuated men are waiting in this auction tonight, ready to spend a fortune for her, even risking everything for her..."

"Give me some time."

Bei Chenji suddenly raised his eyes, his gaze unfathomably deep, reflecting no light or shadow.

"Don't talk nonsense. If these words get out, they will damage her reputation."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority, an aura cultivated from long years in a high position and wielding power over life and death.

Hua Rongshi pursed her lips, closed her fan, and didn't continue speaking. She only muttered something under her breath, but her voice was just loud enough for the other person to hear:

"Cousin, let's beg the legendary physician Zheyue to cure your eye ailment!"

"What's so great about her?"

Bei Chenji ignored him, closed his eyes again, and leaned back in his chair, as if trying to shut out all the outside world's disturbances.

The elegant hall fell silent, with only the faint sound of the auctioneer calling out bids coming from below, filtering through the crystal wall.

It was as blurry as if separated by an old dream, distant and unreal.

But in this deliberately maintained silence, a distant melody suddenly crashed into my mind.

It's that song.

That song that his mother had hummed softly while he was wrapped tightly in her arms during their escape through the snow and ice many years ago.

The melody was very light and gentle, like the sound of flowing water beneath a frozen lake.

His mother's voice was already hoarse, and when she hummed intermittently, she gently patted his back with her cold hands.

He was too young then to understand the lyrics, but he remembered that the melody was like a lantern warming his heart, the only light in the boundless cold night.

Later he learned that the piece was called "The Heart's Lamp Shines".

And thinking of this piece of music inevitably brings to mind that winter night—the anniversary of my mother's and father's deaths.

He was only seventeen that year, yet his hands were stained with countless drops of blood. He bore the heavy responsibility of the Beichen Prince's Mansion, but he was also tormented by skin thirst to the point of becoming emaciated.

That night, the snow fell heavily. He dismissed all his servants and went to Mirror Moon Lake alone.

Utterly despondent.

I truly feel that there is nothing left in this world worth cherishing.

He walked step by step toward the snow-covered frozen lake. The cold seeped into his bones through his brocade boots, but it couldn't compare to the emptiness and coldness in his heart.

Just as my toes were about to touch the ice floes on the lake—

A melody of a zither drifted from the painted boat in the middle of the lake.

At first, it was extremely light, like the first rustling sound of snow falling on pine branches.

Gradually, it became clear and melodious, like a mountain spring leaping over green stones, like a jade chime shattering the moonlight.

And that melody... was "The Lamp of the Heart".

He stood frozen in place.

Then, the crisp sound of silver bells joined the music—not ordinary bells, but the kind that were extremely fine and clear, one sound after another, so ethereal that they seemed to cleanse the soul.

The sounds of the piano and bells intertwined, creating invisible ripples in the snowy night, which also seeped into his long-frozen heart.

At that time, his illness was severe, his consciousness was as hazy as a fog, but his senses were unusually sharp.

The intense, burning pain of thirst felt like being devoured by thousands of ants, spreading from the depths of my bones to every inch of my skin.

In a daze, he squatted down and curled up in a ball by the lake, his fingernails digging deep into his palms, trying to distract himself with another kind of pain.

Amidst the agonizing pain, the music seeped in, strangely calming the restlessness, like cool stream water flowing over a burning wound.

In a daze, he heard the girl's laughter.

Light and soft, as sticky as freshly steamed sugar cake, it was delivered by the wind and snow, carrying with it an innocent and charming naivety.

"Master—shall I play the zither while you practice your swordplay?"

"it is good."

A clear, youthful voice, as pure as shattered jade, responded with a laugh, a laugh filled with indulgence and pampering, so clean it seemed otherworldly.

"Master~" the girl's voice was soft and drawn out, as if she had been soaked in honey, "I want to see ten thousand butterflies flying together..."

Before the words were finished, the gauze curtains of the painted boat were gently parted by the wind.

A pale figure stepped out into the air, her robes billowing like flowing clouds.

His long hair was unbound, like a cascading silver river—it was pure white, whiter than snow, shimmering with a cold luster under the moonlight.

The boy held a long sword as transparent as ice crystal. He lightly touched the frozen lake with his toes, and before any ripples were made, he gracefully landed in the center of the lake.

The sword rises.

In an instant, thousands of sword energies blossomed into shimmering white butterflies, fluttering from the tips of the swords.

The butterfly's wings skimmed across the lake's surface, creating a shower of tiny starlight that instantly enveloped the entire world, like a galaxy falling from the sky, or a gentle avalanche, dazzling beyond compare.

The light butterfly reflected the snow, the moonlight, and the youth's free and unrestrained swordplay, as if a celestial realm had fallen to earth, breathtakingly beautiful, yet as illusory as a mirage.

"So beautiful..." The girl's exclamation drifted on the wind, soft and gentle. "My master, you are indeed the best in the world, unparalleled in your field."

In a daze, I seemed to hear the boy chuckle very softly.

The laughter was like snowflakes falling into the palm of your hand, melting instantly upon touch, leaving only a gentle warmth on your fingers.

"Naughty."

"Since my disciple likes it so much, then I will dance for you every year from now on."

"Do you keep your word?"

"When has your master ever lied to you?"