"The silver needles are the easy part. He Xia has commanded the people of the Prince Consort Residence to treat me like a mistress." Pingting's eyes slowly turned and rested on the two probing maids standing across the pond. "If I tell them to get some, would they dare not to?"

The snow had just stopped when He Xia returned to the Prince Consort Residence.

He had just arrived late last night yet had to leave early next day to see the Princess in the Royal Residence. He then had to meet with the generals to discuss plans about Dong Lin. His iron-like body couldn't help being a little tired.

His eyes rested on the Prince Consort Residence before him, majestically magnificent but a little lacking in activity. Since coming back from the Royal Residence, he felt a little more attached to it but at the same time, unwillingness and fear.

This attachment and fear was all because of one person.

Pingting was there. His eyes often flickered to the colours Pingting liked and wore. He zoned in on frequencies that resembled Pingting's breathing.

She always unwittingly affected others with just one breath, capturing their heart. She herself would remain lazily and leisurely, utterly oblivious to herself and others.

But He Xia was the exception.

Thanks to their deep bond of fifteen years, He Xia was able to affect Pingting with his breath, capturing Pingting's heart. Pingting would notice whenever his expression wasn't right, his body feeling uncomfortable or his emotions a mess. Those two clever eyes would softly roll around twice and would have already deducted what was wrong. She'd then carefully plan out something to help him, whether it be strolling around the gardens, playing the qin or cracking a joke.

Occasionally if he was still unhappy after persuasion, he would pick up his sword and begin a sword dance. Pingting would then specifically change into a dress with extra large sleeves to accompany in the slow and gentle "Nine Days" dance.

As the two connected, the misery became a blooming flower.

Not many men under the skies were blessed to have such a time.

This blessing belonged to He Xia, once.

It was only when Pingting's eyes had moved on from He Xia. He was shocked to find that Pingting's gaze was a valuable treasure.

It was not the qin sound or the singing, not the touching dance, not the charming laugh. It was her fine assurance that was most precious.

The skies had decided that the blessing he had been given was to be removed one day.

How could he obediently hand the blessings he once had to Chu Beijie without a fight? That Duke was an enemy country, the one that had set plans with fake retreats, the Duke of Zhen-Bei who provoked He Su to drive out the House of Jing-An, the man who left the Precious Parting Soul Sword behind and the man who stole Pingting.

The footsteps he took up the steps were somewhat slow.

The threshold at the door was very tall. It was the threshold to his Prince Consort Residence, yet it seemed that if it were any taller, it would block the door and become a sturdy prison.

He willingly came in, but that didn't mean he was willing to stay inside forever.

He Xia lowered his head and looked at the indentations his sword had left on his palm. His hand were full of strength and flexibility. He knew how to cleverly pick, cut and puncture his way to victory.

The four countries were now in chaos.

Chaos was a hero's playground.

He was born a general and born into the House of Jing-An, giving him a superior identity to observe the situation of everything. He was a born genius, one who should sit at the top, above all.

But another person had come into the picture Chu Beijie, also of noble blood. He too was talented with words and strength, another savior of his country who was also able to carefully lead his troops with warrior-like strength.

He Xia and he were just like Gui Le's two famous qin players, Yangfeng and Pingting. Their names were linked together for their whole lifetimes.

Yangfeng and Pingting were friends from childhood.

Yet those two were destinied enemies.

Pingting had returned, and Chu Beijie could not have her. Just like Pingting, Chu Beijie would never get his way forever.

A flash of colour suddenly appeared before He Xia's eyes. He lifted up his foot and strode through the door of the Prince Consort Residence.

He hurriedly entered through the atrium and turned the corridor towards the pond, when he stopped before a stone wall. He Xia turned and looked at the figure in the pavilion across him.

There was a table in the pavilion. The guqin had been set up on it and the incense beside it had been lit. Pingting was seated in front of the guqin, silently stroking the head of the qin. It seemed as if she was trying to wipe off traces of contaminating sweat until it was all carefully erased.

Seeing this, He Xia deeply remembered that it had been a long time since he last heard Pingting play qin.

He had always been the one seated the closest, watching beside her. Her indescribably beautiful hands lightly struck chords onto the ancient qin, trembling slightly. The qin would then spit out a wonderful sound, sometimes like an arrow that stopped the wind as it shot straight towards the sky.

Even the clouds couldn't help parting.

It had been so long since he last heard Pingting's qin sound.

He didn't dare alarm Pingting and quietly leaned on the wall of the stone shelter, anticipating the familiar qin sound to begin. The sound that appeased his weary heart, pointing out the direction of home.

Pingting didn't seem to be ready to play qin. She just had her head lowered as her fingertips repeatedly stroking the guqin. Perhaps she had a dim light of thought, perhaps not, but her fingertips stopped briefly on the thin string.

The incense elegantly burned on, its dark red light flickering. Gradually, it dimmed, flickered a few more times stressfully and went out.

"Why are you not playing?" He Xia walked out from the stone shelter, stepping on the few bricks placed on the snow until he stopped before the pavilion.

Pingting seemed to not hear him, just continued to stare at the qin.

"This is a qin I specifically sent someone to buy from Gui Le. Do you like it?"

No matter how kind his words were, there was no reply.

Since getting on the carriage, Pingting had never spoke another word to him.

Her person had returned, but her heart had been left forgotten at Dong Lin.

After a while, He Xia sighed. "Order whatever you want from the kitchen. There are two Gui Le chefs in this residence and are particularly good at making garlic pork and pickles." He had planned to return to his room after saying this. After taking several steps away, he turned back, "I haven't heard your qin sound for a long time." His voice was soft as he turned back, ready to leave once more.

"Me too...haven't seen Master sword dancing in the snow for a long time."

A very faint, almost inaudible whisper came from behind.

He Xia turned around in surprise, his eyes flashing with joy as said, "Do you want to see it?"

Pingting avoided his eyes, faintly sighing. "Isn't Master tired? You came back late last night and left early next morning."

He Xia stared at her, touched. His lips revealed a doting smile, "How could I be tired with you watching me?"

His sword gently came out of his scabbard like a dragon entering water, smoothly gliding in and shedding its dirty half which floated on the water like a quilt.

It seemed that the blade could cut the clouds till they spilled water or quickly beckon the lightning towards them.

Pingting remained seated at the pavilion, silently watching.

Her eyes were like watery smoke. When He Xia gazed into them, all of his tiredness corroded and melted away.

He Xia's sword leapt freely into the sky. Its spinning was closely followed by Pingting's eyes.