The sun had not yet risen when Princess Yuyan stirred, her brows furrowed in sleep. Her lashes fluttered before her eyes opened wide, heart pounding.
She had dreamt of him again—the boy whose face always came veiled, yet whose sorrow seeped into her soul with every visit. But this dream had been different.
In it, she had lain on a wooden swing strung from unseen trees above, drifting back and forth over a gently flowing river. Her long hair trailed down like silky threads, and her legs dipped lazily into the cool, shimmering water. Her fingertips skimmed its surface, causing ripples that danced like silver fish.
Then she saw him.
He walked across the river like a shadow carved from moonlight—his steps leaving no trace, his robe unruffled by wind. Though a sheer black veil covered the lower half of his face, his eyes burned with longing.
He stopped, only a few paces from where her swing floated.
"Why haven't you gotten to me...? Don't you miss me?"
His voice echoed in the vast dreamscape. It was filled with a sadness so profound it left her breathless.
She reached for him, stretching out her hand as the swing tilted forward.
"I do—wait, I'm coming!" she called, but before her fingers could touch his, the swing snapped and she plunged into the river.
Darkness.
That was when she had woken up with a start, gasping for breath. Her eyes darted about her chamber, still draped in the soft golds and reds of morning silk.
Her gaze fell to the ancient book resting on her chest—opened to the last page she had read. Her heart squeezed.
"I know you're not just a dream..." she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I want to find you... but I don't know how."
She wiped her eyes quickly as the door creaked open and Mei entered, carrying her daily robe.
"Good morning, Your Highness," Mei said cheerfully.
Yuyan gave a small nod, composed once again. After her bath and dressing, she headed to the palace training yard.
Princess Yuyan arrived at the training yard just as the morning sun kissed the jade roofs of Lianhua Palace. The usual hum of clashing swords and gruff orders was absent. Instead, she saw Leng Yue, shirt slightly damp with sweat, practicing alone with his training sword.
She walked up to him, curious. "Where is Master Huo? He never misses a session."
Without missing a beat, Leng Yue parried an imaginary strike and replied, "He's sick. Something about bad duck feet soup and his ancestors cursing his stomach."
Yuyan raised an eyebrow, half-amused. "Duck feet? Who told him to eat like a beggar prince?"
He spun his sword in a fancy arc and winked. "Exactly. I told him royal guts don't handle peasant flavors."
Yuyan chuckled and picked up a sword from the rack. "Well then, noble warrior, care to train with a lonely princess?"
Leng Yue bowed dramatically. "Ah, it would be my greatest honor, Your Imperial Sassiness."
As they began their sparring, the air filled with the playful rhythm of clashing blades and laughter.
"So," Yuyan smirked mid-strike, "why didn't you tell me about my dream this time? I thought you always sneak in, seer boy."
Leng Yue dodged and answered in a teasing tone, "Please, I try to respect your privacy now. Besides, last time I checked, you dreamt about a little bun."
Yuyan gasped. "That was one time! And I was tired!"
"Sure, sure," he said, circling her, "you whispered to that bun like it was your long-lost lover."
"Stop it!" she laughed, trying to hide her blush. "At least I don't talk in my sleep."
"Oh really? Should I quote you saying 'Leng Yue, you're so strong and heroic, I wish you were my swordmaster forever'?"
Yuyan snorted as they crossed swords again. "That never happened!"
He tapped her forehead gently with his blade. "The walls heard it. They speak to me."
"Liar!"
"You wound me, Princess," he gasped dramatically, pretending to stagger. "Wounded not by your blade, but your cruel, baseless accusations."
Their sparring slowed as the laughter overtook them. They teased, joked, and mimicked the palace masters, doing exaggerated impressions. At one point, Yuyan walked with an exaggerated hunch, shaking her stick like the old scroll keeper.
"I am the Great Elder of Dust and Cobwebs!" she croaked. "You disrespect the ancient way of boring lectures!"
Leng Yue fell to the floor laughing, clapping like a child. "Perfect! We should take that to the palace show!"
After a tiring bout, both collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily, the sky above painted in soft morning blue.
"You're so strong," Yuyan said between breaths.
Leng Yue sat up and flexed. "Yeah, I am. Muscles built from royal bullying and dreamscape nightmares."
Yuyan rolled her eyes, then reached out and patted his shoulder. "Keep training, dream-crasher."
The moment her hand touched him, something shifted.
Leng Yue's body jolted. His back arched, head tilted sharply toward the sky, and his eyes rolled up until no iris could be seen. A sudden golden mark glowed on his forehead. The world around him faded.
He was in a vision.
In it, his younger sister stood in a sun-drenched garden, holding hands with a prince. Her smile was radiant. The scene shifted.
He saw himself standing before a coffin—ancient, sealed with blood locks. His finger bled. He reached forward. The drops of blood glowed, dancing like light. The coffin responded. The seal broke.
Inside was a boy—handsome, peaceful, as though merely asleep. Leng Yue's blood touched the boy's skin, and suddenly, a mark formed on the boy's forehead.
The boy's eyes opened.
Leng Yue gasped, and the vision snapped. His body went limp and fell back to the ground. The glowing mark disappeared from his forehead.
"Leng Yue!" Yuyan cried, already calling nearby guards. "Somebody, help!"
He blinked back to life, dazed but breathing. She knelt beside him, eyes brimming with panic.
"What just happened?! You scared the life out of me!"
"I'm fine," he whispered. Then louder to the guards, "It's nothing. Don't speak of this to anyone."
The guards nodded hesitantly and retreated.
Yuyan leaned in, grabbing his hand. "Tell me the truth. What did you see?"
Leng Yue lowered his voice. "I saw… the boy from your dreams. I saw where he is."
Her heart skipped. "Where?! How?!"
"I don't know. It was like… a vision. A place I've never seen. But it was real."
"Are you sure it's him?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes. Long dark hair, pale face—"
Yuyan gasped. "It's him!"
He sighed. "You didn't even let me finish. A lot of boys have long dark hair."
She swatted him. "Don't ruin it. Leng Yue, you have to help me find him. Please, promise me you'll join me in finding him."
He met her eyes. For a moment, the teasing vanished.
"I promise. "