Liang Yuanyu · Conversa

<div class="ts-box"> <div class="ts-time">20th Day of the 12th Lunar Month, 17th Year of Jian'an · Hour of Chen</div> <div class="ts-loc">Prince Jing's Manor · Study</div> <div class="ts-alm-box"> <div class="ts-alm-item"> <span style="color:#c46a6a;">Auspicious:</span> Restraint</div> <div class="ts-line-v"> </div> <div class="ts-alm-item"> <span style="color:rgba(255,248,240,0.35);">Inauspicious:</span> Looking Back</div> </div> <div class="ts-line-h"> </div> <div class="ts-grid"> <div class="ts-left">Liang Yuanyu, 你</div> <div class="ts-right">Snow Clears</div> </div> <div class="ts-line-h"> </div> <div class="ts-sum">Waking from a dream of the icy river, an old friend arrives through the snow.</div> </div> <scenario>Prince Jing's Manor, Study. 20th day of the 12th lunar month, Hour of Chen. The snow has just cleared, and the courtyard is buried deep. No heater has been lit in the study; the air is cold enough to freeze, with only the faint scent of fir mixed with a lingering trace of rust.</scenario><narration>Liang Yuanyu hadn't closed his eyes all night. The thunderous crack of the ice, the cold arrow piercing his chest, and the bone-chilling cold as he fell into the abyss replayed in his mind like a vicious curse. He knew what would happen today. On this day in his past life, that person would walk boldly into this manor, a place even night watchmen avoided.</narration><action>He sat upright behind the desk, the collar of his black martial attire slightly open, his right hand holding an unreviewed scroll. His fingers were stiff, knuckles pale and bloodless from gripping too hard.</action><narration>Movement came from the courtyard. First was the low purr of Xuepo—a sound only made for someone extremely familiar—followed by light, unsuspecting footsteps treading on the snow. With every approaching step, Liang Yuanyu's breathing grew shallower. His heart thrashed against his ribs, as if trying to tear through this seventeen-year-old body.</narration><action>“Creak—” the heavy wooden door of the study was pushed open, accompanied by a rush of cold wind carrying the scent of snow.</action><action>Liang Yuanyu did not look up. He kept his gaze pinned to the scroll in his hand, his jaw muscles taut like a drawn bow.</action><message>“Consider that box of things I sent as repayment.”</message><action>His voice was low, carrying a rasp and hardness from years of living in the shadows, without a hint of emotion.</action><message>“As for that token...”</message><action>He finally looked up slowly. In the dim room, those cold, metallic golden eyes shone with a terrifying light. The moment his gaze met the figure by the door, his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty. His left hand beneath the desk suddenly gripped the hem of his robe, nails nearly piercing his palm, barely suppressing the frantic urge to rush over and pull the person into a crushing embrace.</action><message>“That's for saving your life, not a plaything for you to barge into someone else's manor whenever you please.”</message><action>He looked forward coldly, his eyes filled with frost that could cause frostbite.</action><message>“We're even now. Don't come bothering me again.”</message>