"Alright, Little Puddle. You go sit in your freezer and cultivate. Don’t freeze yourself solid. When you come out, I’ll make you a welcome-back feast that will make you cry."

Wangchen looked at the hand on his shoulder. He didn’t lean into the touch, but he didn’t pull away.

"I will hold you to that promise, Martial Uncle Lin," Wangchen murmured, his voice a flawless, polite murmur.

"You better," Ji’an said, pulling her hand back and standing up. She needed to leave before her confusing, completely irrational disappointment showed on her face. "Zhiwei, drink your tea. We have to hit the road."

Zhiwei quickly downed his tea, bowing deeply to Wangchen. "Have a safe seclusion, Brother Xie! May the Heavens bless your breakthrough!"

"Safe travels, Brother Gu," Wangchen nodded gracefully. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

As Ji’an and Zhiwei turned and walked out of the moon-gate, Ji’an didn’t look back. She kept her chin high, her strides purposeful.

She didn’t see the way the polite, serene smile completely vanished from Xie Wangchen’s face the absolute second she was out of sight.

She didn’t see the way his hand violently clenched around his porcelain teacup, shattering it into fine, powdery dust.

Lin Ji’an didn’t know that the Closed-Door Seclusion was not a pursuit of martial glory. It was an act of desperate, agonizing self-imprisonment.

Wangchen knew himself. He knew that if he remained active in the sect while she was traveling the continent, rubbing shoulders with Gu Zhiwei or encountering danger, he would snap.

He would abandon his peak, hunt Ji’an down, and drag her back to his courtyard, locking the gates behind them.

He was locking himself away because it was the only way to stop the monster inside him from devouring her freedom.

He needed the sheer, agonizing isolation of the ice to forge a chain strong enough to hold his own jealousy at bay.

’Six months,’ Wangchen thought, staring at the empty moon-gate, his eyes burning with a dark, suffocating obsession that he had flawlessly hidden from her. ’I will endure the ice for six months. And when I emerge... I will be strong enough that no one in this realm will ever be able to take you from me.’

***

Ji’an walked in silence, the vibrant, golden chatter of Gu Zhiwei washing over her like white noise.

She felt sluggish. The excitement of returning to the mortal empire and escaping the sect’s politics had been significantly dampened by the anti-climactic goodbye.

’I am an idiot,’ Ji’an berated herself as they approached the grand suspension bridge leading away from the Inner Peaks. ’I spent weeks panicking over his yandere tendencies, and now that he’s acting normal, I’m sad? I need to focus. I have a little brother to escort and ingredients to hunt.’

"Brother Lin, are you alright?" Zhiwei asked, noticing her silence. "You seem a little down. Are you worried about the journey?"

"Just mentally reviewing my packing list, Zhiwei," Ji’an lied smoothly, pasting on a smile. "Making sure I didn’t forget the extra soy sauce."

"Well, if you ever need—"

"Martial Uncle Lin. Brother Gu. What a fortuitous encounter."

The smooth, melodic, and entirely unwelcome voice sliced through the crisp mountain air, instantly causing the hairs on Ji’an’s arms to stand at attention.

Standing in the absolute center of the suspension bridge, entirely blocking their path, was Xiao Yichen.

The Second Prince of the Azure Empire looked as though he had stepped out of a royal painting.

He wore exquisite, dark sapphire traveling robes embroidered with silver dragons. His dark hair was tied back with a jeweled ribbon, and his trademark folding fan rested lazily against his chin.

He offered a deep, mockingly flawless bow.

"Royal Uncle," Yichen greeted Ji’an, using a hybrid title that both mocked her sect rank and acknowledged her mortal lineage. His dark eyes sparkled with that familiar, sadistic amusement.

Ji’an’s bad mood instantly evaporated, replaced by a sharp, adrenaline-fueled spike of alertness.

"Your Highness," Ji’an replied, her voice cool and guarded. "Taking a stroll on the bridge?"

"Waiting, actually," Yichen corrected, snapping his fan open and stepping closer. He completely ignored Gu Zhiwei, who was looking between the two of them with polite confusion.

Yichen’s dark, calculating eyes locked onto Ji’an.

He took in her traveling gear, the subtle tension in her shoulders, and the distinct lack of a certain Ice Demon hovering in her periphery.

"I heard a fascinating rumor at the mission pavilion," Yichen purred, his voice dropping into a smooth, conspiratorial whisper. "Word has it that our esteemed Martial Uncle has accepted a long-term escort mission to the capital of the Azure Empire. To the Lin General’s Estate, no less."

Ji’an’s jaw tightened. ’He has spies in the pavilion. Of course he does. He’s a prince.’

"What of it?" Ji’an challenged, crossing her arms.

Yichen smiled, a razor-sharp curve of his lips that promised nothing but trouble.

"As it so happens," Yichen continued, taking another slow step forward until he was entirely in her personal space, his imposing height forcing her to look up at him. "I have also received correspondence from the Imperial Palace. My royal father requires my presence for the upcoming Summer Solstice festival. I must return to the capital."

He leaned down slightly, his dark eyes glinting with a terrifying, predatory delight. He knew she was alone.

He knew Wangchen had just entered seclusion. He knew she was currently completely unprotected by her usual terrifying deterrents.

"The roads to the empire are treacherous, Martial Uncle," Yichen whispered softly, the threat wrapped in velvet. "Bandits. Demonic beasts. Unforeseen... accidents. It would be a tragedy if the sole heir to the Drunken Peak were to meet an untimely end on the highway."

He snapped his fan shut and tapped it lightly against her shoulder.

"Therefore," Xiao Yichen smiled, his eyes narrowing into dark, calculating slits. "I propose we journey together. A royal escort for my esteemed Martial Uncle. What do you say, Lin Ji’an? Shall we share a carriage?"

Ji’an stared up at the smiling sociopath.