Assurance

"Of course I'm serious."

Gu Chengyin's voice was almost flat, yet each word spilled out from beneath the veil of jest and probing.

"Just as Xiaoli said, Aunt is too formidable."

He paused, his gaze drifting toward the patch of azure sky above the treetops.

"So formidable that I could only come to Xiaoli for help."

"But Xiaoli refuses to listen, so what other choice do I have but to hypnotize you?"

The moment his words fell, the courtyard fell silent.

Gu Xiaoli jerked her head up so violently that the ornamental hairpin flew from her bun.

It clattered onto the bluestone floor with a sharp ding, bounced twice, and rolled to rest beside the tree roots.

She didn't pick it up. She didn't even glance at it.

Her large eyes brimmed with something—not tears, but something brighter than tears.

Not anger, but something hotter than anger.

"No, no!"

Gu Xiaoli's voice nearly came out as a shout, carrying a frantic denial.

Her hands waved wildly in front of her chest.

As if she could shatter Gu Chengyin's words from the air itself.

"Xiaoli is the most obedient to Brother!"

Gu Xiaoli's spiritual cat ears bristled, the fur at the tips standing on end and trembling faintly.

Her big eyes stared straight at Gu Chengyin's face, yet she dared not look into his eyes.

So she fixed her gaze on his brow, on the bridge of his nose, on his chin—anywhere but his gaze.

"Xiaoli only listens to Brother!"

These words were spoken with absolute conviction, firm and resounding.

But the moment they left her lips, her gaze began to wander again.

From left to right, from right to left, until it finally settled on the tips of her own shoes.

Gu Chengyin looked at her like this and couldn't help but laugh.

He reached out and picked up the hairpin she had flung away from beside the tree roots.

The hairpin was made of silver, its head adorned with a small jade butterfly.

The butterfly's wings were extremely thin, almost transparent, refracting a faint iridescent glow in the sunlight.

Gu Chengyin brushed the dust off the hairpin, then beckoned to Gu Xiaoli.

Gu Xiaoli hesitated for a moment, like a cat that wants to approach but fears being caught, inching forward bit by bit.

She crouched down in front of him, lowering her head slightly.

Gu Chengyin carefully reinserted the hairpin into her bun, then asked:

"Really?"

His voice was low, as if asking Gu Xiaoli, and also as if asking himself.

Gu Xiaoli's spiritual cat ears twitched, the tips drooping slightly against her scalp.

Yet they didn't press fully flat, leaving a tiny gap—as if leaving a way out for some unspoken words.

"Probably real..."

Gu Xiaoli's voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, the tail end dissolving in her throat.

Gu Chengyin said nothing more.

His hand moved away from her bun, but instead of withdrawing, it naturally came down to rest on her head, gently ruffling her hair.

The warmth of his palm seeped through her strands and reached her scalp, cozy and comforting.

Then Gu Chengyin turned his head, casting his gaze toward the clouds on the horizon.

Late-spring clouds are different from summer clouds.

Summer clouds are massive and chunky, white as freshly picked cotton, piled heavily on the horizon like they might collapse at any moment.

Late-spring clouds, however, are thinner and lighter, like someone had casually dabbed a few strokes of the faintest ink on rice paper.

Their edges are fuzzy, carrying a lazy quality of something about to disperse yet lingering still.

"Xiaoli."

Gu Chengyin suddenly spoke, his tone completely different from before.

The careless, offhand manner vanished, replaced by utter seriousness.

"I once made a promise to Aunt. Do you know what it was?"

Gu Xiaoli lifted her head.

Her spiritual cat ears slowly rose from their droop.

As if an invisible hand had gently taken hold of her ears.

Forcing her not to miss a single word Gu Chengyin was about to say.

Gu Xiaoli knew that there were many things between Gu Chengyin and Lin Qingyan.

Those things were like a book she had not been permitted to read—she recognized the words on the cover, but had no idea what lay inside.

She had once tried to piece together the contents of that book from the fragments Gu Chengyin occasionally let slip.

But every time she got halfway through, she had to stop.

Not because the clues were insufficient, but because she didn't dare.

Gu Xiaoli was afraid that the answer she pieced together would be something she couldn't bear.

Now, Gu Chengyin had himself opened the first page of that book.

"What is it?"

Gu Xiaoli's spiritual cat ears tilted forward, their tips slightly apart, like two petals about to unfurl in the wind.

Gu Chengyin didn't answer right away. Instead, he let out a long sigh, then said:

"No matter who they are, no matter their cultivation or their realm."

"I will avenge you. Without fail."

The instant these words were spoken, the wind in the courtyard suddenly stopped.

The leaves froze mid-air, holding the posture of being blown, suspended between motion and stillness.

The wind chimes under the eaves went silent too, their copper tongues pressing against the bell walls as if held by an invisible hand.

Even the footsteps of the palace attendants in the distance vanished at that moment.

As if the entire Crown Prince's residence had been sealed beneath a massive glass dome, completely cut off from the outside world.

And Gu Xiaoli—she was struck as if by lightning.

Not the exaggerated kind of "struck by lightning."

But a genuine bolt that crashed down from the top of her head, racing along her spine.

Piercing through her chest, through her dantian, and finally detonating in the deepest recesses of her heart.

The name of that bolt was: Empress.

Gu Xiaoli's pupils contracted sharply, then dilated just as sharply.

As if she had been slammed by something, and before she could regain her footing, slammed again.

Every expression on her exquisitely world-weary little face was stripped away in an instant.

Leaving only blankness. Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but her voice was lodged in her throat, unable to produce a single word.

Her spiritual cat ears stood stiff and upright, the fur at the tips bristling and trembling.

It was a sign of Gu Xiaoli desperately suppressing something.

She was very clever.

Gu Xiaoli had always been very clever.

So clever that the moment Gu Chengyin finished speaking, she already understood the deeper meaning behind his words.

Gu Chengyin had made this promise to Lin Qingyan.

And that promise meant something.

It meant Gu Chengyin knew what Lin Qingyan wanted.

Lin Qingyan was Jingzhe of the Heavenly Master Residence, an immortal adept unmatched within the Golden Core realm.

She seemed to lack nothing.

Cultivation, status, talent, beauty—heaven had given Lin Qingyan the very best of everything.

But deep in her heart, there was a wound that never stopped bleeding, that had never healed.

The name of that wound was: Empress Lin.

Gu Xiaoli's lips began to tremble.

The promise Gu Chengyin made to Lin Qingyan was the very same thing she herself had buried in the deepest part of her heart.

So Gu Xiaoli and Lin Qingyan had never been enemies.

They were allies.

True allies.

No need for a blood oath. No need to swear by the heavens.

Just the shared silence that fell whenever the name Empress Lin was mentioned—that alone spoke louder than a thousand words.