As usual, they rode two horses. But this ti, the arrangent had changed. Linyue found herself seated in front of Shu Mingye on the lead horse. His hand resting lazily on the reins, while his other hand hovered just close enough to catch her if she so much as leaned wrong. Behind them, Song iyu chattered happily on the second horse, Shen Zhenyu sitting behind her with his usual calm, unreadable face.
Linyue had been sure she would regret this. She really had. And yet… she didn’t. Or at least, not entirely. Because, as always, his arm rested loosely around her waist. The warmth of him pressed against her back, steady and unshakable. And Linyue, now quite used to it, had to admit… this was kind of nice. It was annoyingly pleasant. Warm. Comfortable. Safe. Maybe bringing him along wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Linyue nodded to herself, a small, private motion that ant absolutely nothing.
Unfortunately, Shu Mingye’s eyes were far too sharp for her peace of mind. He caught the nod imdiately, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice low and unhurried. “Did you solve the riddle?”
Linyue, too distracted and far too honest for her own good, replied without thinking. “I’m thinking it’s warm and comfortable. I like it. And the riddle…”
She didn’t finish because Shu Mingye had turned his head and was staring at her.
Wait. Did… did she say she liked it?
His brain promptly short-circuited.
She likes it. She likes it. She likes—
Linyue blinked up at him, completely unaware she had just delivered a sneak attack straight to his heart.
Shu Mingye cleared his throat, snapped his gaze forward, and pretended to be deeply, deeply focused on the road ahead. His ears—the traitorous, utterly disloyal things—tinged faintly red.
“…Good,” he managed at last, his voice a shade too stiff. “That’s… good. Comfort is important. For long journeys.”
Linyue nodded. “Mm. Very practical.”
Practical?!
Shu Mingye almost groaned aloud. Here he was, clutching the reins like they might help him hold on to sanity, while she was labeling the whole situation practical. How was he supposed to survive this?
He could already imagine it—her saying those sa words again in that calm voice. Or worse, saying it with that tiny, rare smile of hers that made his entire brain go blank. Before his thoughts could spiral any further, Linyue’s quiet, steady voice interrupted them.
“The riddle,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked ahead. “Between heaven’s light and earth’s embrace… It could an a high place. Like a cliff or mountain. If it was sothing deep underground, wouldn’t it be between hell and earth or sothing?”
Shu Mingye blinked hard, dragging his brain back to the present. It was still busy replaying her earlier words on an endless loop, but he managed to push it aside. He cleared his throat again, deeper this ti, as if a serious tone could hide the chaos in his head.
“That’s possible,” he said carefully. “But there are a lot of cliffs, hills, and mountains in Shulin.”
Linyue turned her head a little, eting his gaze with that calm, blank look that always made him feel oddly nervous. “So, we’re basically riding aimlessly until a poetic rock shows up?”
“…Yes,” Shu Mingye admitted after a mont, trying and failing to stop the faint twitch tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That seems to be the plan.”
“Mm.” She nodded seriously. “A solid plan.”
Behind them, Shen Zhenyu sighed for what sounded like the fifth ti in an hour. Each one sounded more resigned than the last.
Song iyu, on the other hand, was having the ti of her life. She humd happily and started rummaging through her pouch. “I brought dried peaches!” she announced, sounding far too cheerful for soone on a possibly endless mountain quest.
“Why am I not surprised,” Shu Mingye muttered.
Linyue’s gaze wandered lazily over the winding forest path ahead before, very intentionally, drifting back to his arm still resting around her waist. Her expression didn’t change, but the faint tilt of her head warned him sothing unpredictable was coming.
“Well,” she said lightly, “at least the view’s good.”
Shu Mingye froze. “The view?” he repeated, his tone calm and even, though inside his mind chaos had already flipped a few tables and set sothing on fire.
The view. What view? Did she an the mountains? The trees? The distant sky? Or… could she possibly an… him?
No. Absolutely not. Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously, she ant the scenery. The sky. The trees. The very safe, very non-threatening scenery. Why would she ever an him?
He gave a slow, grim nod to himself, ntally locking the thought in a box and shoving it into the deepest corner of his brain.
Then Linyue lifted a hand and pointed ahead. “Nature.”
“Oh,” Shu Mingye said too quickly, almost tripping over the word. “Yes. Of course. Nature.” He nodded seriously, trying to mask the faint sting of disappointnt in his chest.
She hadn’t ant him. Obviously… right?
Most likely. Almost certainly.
He cleared his throat for the third ti that morning, pretending it was just dust in the air. If this kept up, he was going to lose his voice entirely before they even found the spring.
Linyue tilted her head thoughtfully. “The next part… where silver maiden weeps eternal. What does that an? Silver maiden? Is there sothing like that in Shulin?”
Shu Mingye, still clutching the last fragile threads of his dignity, forced his brain back into working order.
Silver maiden? Nothing. Absolutely nothing ca to him. He had lived in Shulin for years—led soldiers, built cities, fought demons—but he had never once t or heard a silver maiden crying forever. Sounded exhausting.
Was it so legend he forgot about? A statue hidden in the mountains? A strange rock formation that looked like an unlucky lady? And weeps eternal… what even cried forever? A person? A ghost? A leaky roof? A cursed tree leaking sap? Or, more likely, a waterfall. Yes. Probably a waterfall. Sothing poetic and harmless. Hopefully.
He nodded to himself, reassured, and then promptly sank so deep into thought that he forgot to speak for the next ten minutes.
Linyue didn’t seem to mind. She sat perfectly still, enjoying the ride. Behind them, Song iyu and Shen Zhenyu had settled into a rhythm of light chatter and occasional giggles. Even their horse seed to pick up on the mood, its hooves clopping along in a strangely happy rhythm.
Soon, the group passed the outer edges of the city and entered Shulin’s ancient forest. The air shifted instantly. Cooler. Softer. It carried the sll of wet leaves, moss, and rich soil like the whole world had just taken a long bath. The wind rustled softly through the tall trees, sunlight slipping between the leaves in golden patches that danced across the mossy forest floor. It was peaceful.
Linyue narrowed her eyes. This felt familiar. It reminded her of that ti when they had turned into seaweed monsters.
No. Absolutely not. She shook her head firmly, as if to banish the thought before the forest got any ideas. They were not falling into a swamp again.
…Hopefully.
Behind her, Shu Mingye finally broke his silence. “It might be a waterfall,” he said, voice thoughtful. “Silver… for the color. Weeps… for the water. And maiden… maybe just poetic nonsense.”
Linyue tilted her head, considering it. Then she nodded once. "You’re right. It fits with her tears like stars that never fade. A waterfall never stops flowing, its waters pouring down like endless tears.” She turned slightly in her seat to look up at him, her face lighting up in a rare bright smile. “You’re amazing!”
Did… did she just say amazing?
Shu Mingye stiffened. His dark eyes flicked toward her, searching her face, needing to confirm he hadn’t hallucinated. He waited, bracing himself for the second half of the sentence. The part where she balanced it out with a jab, like "Amazing… for soone with a criminal record." Or maybe, "Amazing at being annoying."
But no. She was still smiling. Soft. Honest. Very, very real.
She had just called him amazing. Was she trying to kill him with complints now?
Shu Mingye’s brain stuttered. He didn’t know how to process this. Complints were… rare. Normally people called him terrifying. Monstrous. Occasionally “Your Highness, please don’t behead .” But amazing?
His grip on the reins tightened. His thoughts were running in panicked circles.
Behind them, Song iyu and Shen Zhenyu were busy arguing about whether “halls of glass” in the riddle ant caves with crystals or so poetic taphor about inner reflection. No one noticed the emotional disaster occurring on the front horse.
Shu Mingye cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to study a nearby pine tree very seriously. “…I was just making a guess.”
“Still. It makes sense. I didn’t think about waterfalls.”
Shu Mingye could only stiffly nod once. His thoughts were no longer logical. Not at all. They were full of the words “You’re amazing” playing on loop.
Linyue, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused, turned her head forward and muttered, “Hopefully we won’t find a swamp instead.”
Shu Mingye, still recovering, replied with a quiet, distracted, “Mm.”
She smiled again. The forest was peaceful, the breeze was soft, and Shu Mingye’s was one more smile away from forgetting how to breathe properly. And they hadn’t even found the spring yet.
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