The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Li Shuang quietly observed the mother and daughter's figures, and had already made up her mind.

"Your Highness, it's chilly outside. Please come inside and have a seat."

Mei Ruohuan stepped aside to lead the way, her posture graceful and poised. Even in her predicament, she had not lost the manners that were ingrained in her bones.

Tang Xixue followed her inside and looked around the small room—simple furnishings, but spotless.

A pot of green plum blossoms sits on the windowsill, a few scattered flowers in bloom, their delicate fragrance wafting through the air.

A calligraphy scroll hangs on the wall, written in a slender and vigorous style: "Snowy soul and icy spirit, plum blossom heart and jade bones."

It is Mei Ruohuan's handwriting.

Seeing that the princess showed no sign of disdain and instead treated her mother and sister with gentleness, Pei Yanchuan's eyes suddenly welled up with tears, and he quickly lowered his head to hide it.

"I will brew tea with snow for Your Highness."

He spoke softly, picked up a ceramic jar, walked to the plum tree in the courtyard, and carefully collected the cleanest snow from the branches.

Since they had no tea leaves, he picked half-open green plum blossoms and boiled them with snow water.

The fragrance of plum blossoms rose with the steam, filling the room with a delicate aroma.

"Madam Mei, please have a seat." Tang Xixue sat down on the old bamboo chair. "I have some medical knowledge; may I take your pulse?"

Mei Ruohuan sat down beside her as instructed, extending her slender wrist. The wrist bone was so thin it seemed as if it would break at any moment, and the skin was as pale as paper.

Tangxi Xue Ning Shen took her pulse.

Time flowed silently, with only the soft bubbling of the snow water on the stove and the occasional whistling of the wind outside the window.

Pei Yanchuan stood to the side, holding his breath, his gaze fixed on Tang Xixue's slightly furrowed brows.

After a long while, she withdrew her hand.

"Your Highness," Pei Yanchuan's voice was strained, "but... is it incurable?"

He had grown accustomed to the way every doctor shook their heads and sighed.

Tang Xixue raised her eyes, her gaze calm as she looked at Mei Ruohuan:

"Your mother's illness is not simply a heart ailment."

She paused, then spoke clearly, word by word:

"It looks like... the Kitagawa Imperial Family's 'Thread-Binding Gu'."

The moment the words left her mouth, Mei Ruohuan trembled violently!

The already pale face instantly lost all color, and even the lips turned ashen.

She clenched her clothes tightly, her knuckles turning white, her breathing unsteady, and she looked like a withered leaf in the autumn wind, teetering on the verge of collapse.

She thought of that person from the Kitagawa royal family.

If she was truly bewitched, it must be because of him.

"Mother!" Pei Yanchuan rushed forward to support her, then turned and asked urgently, "Your Highness, what is the 'Thread-Pulling Gu'? Is it possible to cure it?"

Tang Xixue's expression was solemn: "The Thread-Pulling Gu is a Gu used by the Beichuan royal family to implant in their beloved. It is said that as long as they are separated from their loved one by a certain distance, they will suffer from heartache."

She looked at Pei Yanchuan, her voice softening:

"To remove the curse, I'm afraid... it would be safer to ask the Divine Physician Si Xingxuan of the Moonlit Night for help. After all, he is quite authoritative in the arts of poisons and curses."

Pei Yanchuan's heart sank.

Young Master Zheyue is the number one divine physician in the Nine Provinces and the master of the Seven Generations Pavilion. He is incredibly wealthy and his temperament is unpredictable.

Asking him to take action is easier said than done.

Mei Ruohuan caught her breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, her eyes were filled with a deathly calm.

"Thank you for informing me, Your Highness." Her voice was weak, but she still maintained her courtesy. "Life and death are predestined and cannot be forced. Lin'er, please don't be troubled."

Pei Yanchuan pursed his lips, helped his mother to the bedside to rest, and then turned to Tang Xixue and bowed solemnly:

"Your Highness's guidance is of utmost gratitude to Ying Lin."

Despite all the difficulties, he was determined to give it a try.

Just then, a soft knock came from outside the courtyard.

"Your Highness, please have a seat. I'll go take a look."

Pei Yanchuan offered Tang Xixue the freshly brewed plum blossom tea to warm her hands, then turned and walked out of the house.

The tea soup is clear, with a delicate plum fragrance. When held in the palm of your hand, its warmth emanates through the porcelain wall.

Pei Yanchuan was stunned when he pushed open the courtyard gate.

The person standing outside the door was none other than Shen Xian.

Dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, covered by a silver-gray crane cloak, he stood in the snow like a jade tree orchid.

He carried several exquisite gift boxes in his hands, his expression solemn and his eyes clear.

"Young Master Pei," Shen Xian bowed to him, his voice gentle and refined, "I have come here to apologize."

He looked up and was slightly taken aback when his gaze fell on Pei Yanchuan.

The young man before me wore a green robe and white cloak, his hair tied up with a jade crown. His posture was as upright as a bamboo stalk, and his temperament was as noble as a winter plum blossom.

Where is that poor student from a poor family, dressed in thin clothes, who was outside Lintai yesterday?

He was clearly a handsome and elegant gentleman.

"No need."

Pei Yanchuan's expression was indifferent, and his voice was devoid of emotion.

"I am but a lowly person, and my voice carries little weight. If a storm were to break me, I would be shattered to pieces. Young Master Shen, please show mercy."

Shen Xian's eyes dimmed slightly: "I was unaware of what happened last night. My servant acted recklessly, and I have severely punished the steward. I have come today to apologize, and I hope Young Master Pei will forgive me..."

Before the words were finished, Mei Ruohuan's soft voice came from inside the room:

"Lin'er, why aren't you coming in yet? Don't neglect Her Highness the Princess."

As she spoke, the woman in plain clothes gracefully walked out of the house.

She leaned against the door frame, slightly out of breath, and looked up at the courtyard gate.

The moment their eyes met.

Time seemed to stand still.

With a "thud," the gift box in Shen Xian's hand fell to the snow.

He stared blankly at that face, the face he had seen countless times in the portrait hidden in his father's study, the face he had thought of countless times in the dead of night, and now it was vividly appearing before his eyes.

The bright and beautiful girlhood has faded, replaced by the marks of time, frailty, and weariness. Yet, her eyes, her beauty mark under her eye, and her overall cool, scholarly air remain...

It was clearly the image of his mother that had long been blurred in his memory but was deeply ingrained in his bones.

"Mother... Mother?"

His throat bobbed, his voice trembled uncontrollably, and his eyes instantly turned red.

Mei Ruohuan also stood frozen in place.

She looked at the tall, handsome young man outside the courtyard gate, noticing his features, which resembled those of Prime Minister Shen Zhangzheng but were even more refined.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Madam Mei, could she be Shen Xiang's legendary—pretty white moonlight who died young?"

Inside the room, Tang Xixue paused slightly in the hand holding the teacup.

Looking at the three people locked in a stalemate outside the door, at Shen Xian's discomposure, and at Mei Ruohuan's face that turned as pale as paper, the vague clues in her mind suddenly became clear.

No wonder Mrs. Mei looked familiar.

No wonder Pei Yanchuan and Shen Xian seem to have a subtle resemblance in their eyes and temperament.

It turns out that Shen Xian's gentle and handsome face was seven parts like Mei Ruohuan's.

In the courtyard, Mei Ruohuan finally took a soft breath.

She lowered her eyes, avoiding Shen Xian's intense gaze, her voice as faint as snowflakes about to fall from the eaves:

"Young master, you've mistaken me for someone else."

She turned to the side, her hand slightly clenched in her sleeve, her tone calm to the point of being detached.

"Young Master Shen, please return."

Pei Yanchuan's eyes darkened, and he stepped forward to block Mei Ruohuan.

"The Shen family is of noble birth; do not... make random claims of kinship outside."

He glanced coldly at Shen Xian, his gaze devoid of any warmth, only filled with a fierce protectiveness.

"boom--"

The wooden door was slammed shut, ruthlessly locking Shen Xian inside.

Pei Yanchuan glanced at Mei Ruohuan indifferently; it seemed that this was another romantic entanglement caused by his mother.