Chapter 12: Endless Snowstorm

Morning of the Birthday

Morning arrived.

Gu Chi woke to a white world outside.

Snow draped the branches.

The courtyard’s peach trees stood bare.

Only a winter plum bloomed, its scent rich.

Rising, he found Pei Ningxue still curled in bed, refusing to stir.

He prepared breakfast.

A bowl of pork fat rice was ready.

Carrying it to the room, she finally sat up, beginning to groom.

“Today’s your birthday—twenty years.”

“Any thoughts?”

Pei Ningxue looked at him curiously.

“Half my life’s gone.”

“Hard to feel much.”

Gu Chi smiled wryly.

“Each birthday’s a death knell, reminding me time’s short.”

“Don’t think like that.”

She kicked his leg lightly with her snow-white foot.

“Come learn swordplay with me later.”

“Swordplay?”

He was puzzled.

“Your sword art’s from your parents’ manual, right?”

“If someone who knew their style spots you, you’re done.”

“Today, I’ll teach you the Pei royal family’s thousand-year sword art.”

“You’re really Southern Domain’s former princess?”

“Absolutely genuine.”

Pei Ningxue’s lips curved.

The Sword of Shattered Jade

Snow blanketed the courtyard.

Pei Ningxue held a slender sword.

She explained the Pei royal sword art, Shattered Jade.

Seven forms, endlessly variable, unpredictable.

Gu Chi lounged in a chair, watching her in a gray gauze dress.

Her sword danced in the snow, lulling him to sleep.

“Are you even learning?”

She kicked snow at him with her toes.

“Seen you use it too often—stole most of it already.”

He smiled helplessly.

“Just missing the heart method.”

Shattered Jade wasn’t ordinary.

It guided acupoints, channeled spiritual energy, unleashed sword qi.

Gu Chi memorized moves at a glance.

The heart method, though, couldn’t be guessed—mispractice risked madness.

She tossed him a yellowed booklet.

“Don’t share it with outsiders.”

“Aren’t royal arts forbidden to rogues like me?”

“We drank a lover’s cup—near dao companions.”

“That’s allowed?”

He blinked, then laughed, flipping through the heart method.

Its obscure text dizzied him.

“Your sword art’s tough.”

“With your talent, three months for basic mastery.”

“Practice diligently.”

“Got it.”

He nodded.

Her tone felt off, somehow.

He wanted to ask, but the words stuck.

She saw his hesitation but said nothing.

They gazed at each other in the snow.

After a while, she spoke softly.

“Look it over again.”

“Alright.”

He nodded, watching her sword glow with spiritual energy.

Her movements sharp, deadly.

Sword qi filled the courtyard, peach branches falling.

“You chopped the trees.”

“Where’ll we get spirit peaches in spring?”

He tilted his head.

“No more peach blossoms next year.”

Her tone turned oddly fierce.

Evening Study and Feast

Evening came.

Gu Chi studied the heart method intently.

He’d skimmed it once.

Unclear parts, Pei Ningxue explained patiently.

His talent shone—few doubts arose.

With her guidance, he grasped the basics quickly.

Daily practice would refine it.

Pei Ningxue, impatient by nature, was wilting.

Slumped on the table, she awaited feeding.

Gu Chi went to the kitchen.

Their piglet would feed them a week.

Tonight, another lavish meal.

Pei Ningxue loved the chili-garlic pork stir-fry.

Her cheeks flushed, forehead beaded with sweat.

She couldn’t stop eating.

“It’s your birthday.”

“I should treat you to wine.”

“But I’m saving for sword-tempering crystals.”

“How about your prized Snow Chant Brew?”

“We’ll celebrate properly.”

“I admire your shamelessness.”

Gu Chi laughed and cried, fetching the half-year-treasured jar.

He poured her a full cup.

Tonight, her drinking zeal soared.

She matched him cup for cup, no cheating.

Her pink lips, wet with wine, glistened.

Her eyes grew brighter, like courtyard firefly stones.

When the jar emptied, she pulled out a delicate flask.

“This wine I’ve saved years, reluctant to finish.”

“Last bit—half for you.”

Gu Chi lifted the cup, hesitated briefly, but drank after clinking with her.

She watched him finish, smiled, and downed hers.

The Poisoned Truth

Setting down the cup, he met her gaze.

“You’ve got three things to say.”

She froze, smile fading.

Her gray silk stockings lifted, feet resting on his lap.

Ultra-thin, her snow-white feet faintly visible.

His hands stiffened as he looked at her, confused but not angry.

“I’m leaving.”

“Not to wander alone—I have reasons I can’t avoid.”

Her first sentence.

Gu Chi had guessed, so he stayed silent.

Three years together—he knew her.

Her unpredictable nature, her recent odd behavior.

He’d seen it.

“Even though you probably won’t stop me…”

“Just in case, I poisoned you.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll just stiffen you a few hours, then fade.”

“I knew.”

“I smelled it.”

“Knew and still drank?”

“I know you won’t harm me.”

“You…”

Pei Ningxue’s voice held frustration.

Her tender foot poked his stomach.

“Pretty women lie.”

“Don’t trust any but me.”

“Got it.”

“It’s not about stopping you.”

“I know you—you wouldn’t beg me to stay.”

She looked into his eyes.

Her third sentence came slowly.

“I figured if I told you I’m leaving, you wouldn’t let me do what’s next.”

“So, poison keeps you compliant.”

The poison took hold.

His body stiffened, barely movable.

She pulled his arm, dragging him like a log to the room.

On the bed, his neck could only turn slightly.

Her fingertip tapped his forehead.

“Wait for me to bathe.”

He lay rigid, watching her vanish.

Outside, snow fell endlessly.

He hated snowy days.

A Farewell in White

She returned in a white dress, skirt short to mid-thigh.

Under his gaze, she bit her lip.

Her fingers slid under the hem, hooking her undergarments.

She eased them to her knees, sat on the bed, removed them.

Turning, her cheeks flushed red.

“You always wanted to see me blush.”

“Satisfied now?”

Her body trembled slightly.

As she spoke, she climbed onto his lap.

Her fingers traced circles on his chest.

Slowly, she stripped his clothes.

“Can you get off?”

He spoke slowly.

“Nope.”

She tilted her chin up.

Leaning down, she met his eyes.

“You’ve never dual cultivated with another woman, right?”

He stayed silent.

“I know you haven’t.”

“Hmph.”

“So, remember—I’m the first, the only.”

“Your honor—you should be happy, not staring like that.”

“You’re crying.”

He said softly.

She froze, wiping her face.

Her hand came away wet with tears.

The discovery unhinged her.

She glared at him.

“So what if I cry?”

“I mean… you can leave, I understand.”

“But this isn’t necessary.”

He hesitated.

“You don’t want to widow, right?”

“You defile me… you’re not allowed to die.”

“Hey, who’s defiling who?”

Her laughter broke through at his retort.

She raised her chin proudly.

“It’s my first time too.”

“And this? You won’t hurt—I’m the one losing out.”

Yet, she pressed against him cautiously, uneasy.

Kneeling on him, her hips on her calves.

Her crystalline toes curled instinctively.

“I’m serious, don’t…”

His words stopped there.

Her tears fell, pained.

“You… no preparation at all…”

She arched, sweat rolling down her forehead.

Hands braced on his chest.

After a moment, she leaned down, kissing his lips.

Outside, the snowstorm raged.