“Ow. Ow.”

  After they were alone in the hall, Feiyun Xing dropped on the bench. Leaning back as he took a deep breath in.

  “Are you alright? Can I help you somehow?” Ren Lin settled beside him. Her words were a glass filled with worry, within it a hidden drop of ink.

  His head shook. “Give me a bit of time. With you by my side, the pain will be gone quickly.”

  “You gave me a heart attack, but I must admit that you were very brave.” Her hand patted his back.

  “Very brave to crawl on the ground and beg you to become my object…” he sighed, hiding his face in his palms as he leaned forward. “I’m a joke.”

  “Don’t speak of yourself in such a way. Otherwise it might come true.”

  He looked at her in shock at such harsh words. “What?”

  “Why are you so surprised?” She chuckled. “You are quite silly. Feiyun Xing, what makes us who we are?”

  “I…” he was baffled. “Our experiences?”

  “Partly, it is us—what we think of ourselves. If you see yourself as lazy, you won’t move. If you believe you will succeed, you won’t give up.” Ren Lin paused her patting. “We are our own parents. When we recognize something we’ve done wrong, we tell ourselves it won’t happen again—that’s the experience part. And the voice of that parent depends on one’s nature.”

  The prince thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t entirely agree to that.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You say we become what we think of ourselves. But many people think highly of themselves and still fail, or do nothing at all. And others think poorly of themselves, yet seize opportunities and succeed.”

  He drank the glass without noticing the ink. His own pity blinded his sense of truth, falling for her illusion more and more.

  Ren Lin rolled her eyes internally. “I never said anything about guaranteeing success—that’s determined by luck, circumstance, and countless other variables. My point is simpler: if you tell yourself you are something, you will act as that thing. Taking action itself is the higher aim. Belief changes probability, not destiny. Nothing is carved in stone.”

  He watched her with quiet admiration as she spoke.

  “I see. Your words are very wise, as always. And still, you choose to be my woman? Why?”

  “Are you worried because your father said true love doesn’t exist?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know…”

  Leaning closer, Ren Lin whispered against his ear, “Your father has no clue. We’ll prove him wrong after our journey.” She drew back with a faint smile. “Sounds like a plan?”

  “Yeah… but what do you even like about me?”

  A soft chuckle escaped her. “I can’t quite name it. When you came to me at your lowest, I just… couldn’t help but take care of you. And before I knew it, you’d already charmed me.” She tapped his nose playfully.

  Blushing, the prince muttered, “Alright, enough teasing. I’ve been down long enough—we should start gathering equipment for the journey ahead.”

  After recovering, he rose. “We’ll need to use a Core on you to strengthen your body. The four islands we have to visit all differ in gravity.” His gaze flicked briefly to her clothes. “And we’ll need to get you something thicker—outside this island, the others are freezing.”

  Ren Lin nodded.

  A faint smile curved his lips. “Just give me a description on what style you want your clothes to be. While I take care of all that, feel free to stay in my room. You can have a proper bath there. I’m not sure what the hygiene situation is like where you’re from, but I know it’s at least a thousand times better here.”

  “I appreciate that, clothes are fine as long as they are not expensive.”

  “Come on, I can get you any.”

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  Ren Lin thought for a moment. “Then… I’d like a black outer layer with grey fur around the collar and sleeves. The inner fabric should start light grey, fading into black toward the hem.”

  He tilted his head. “That’s… rather grim.”

  Her head moved in disagreement. “It’s deliberate. Black is the goal of all colors—even the grey inside slowly turns into it.”

  “Thoughtful… I like that. Come then. Let’s get you settled.”

  The hallway glowed softly as they walked, crystal lamps casting cold constellations across the walls. The polished wooden floor creaked gently beneath their steps, a long red rug lured forward. Gold-lined pillars and lacquered panels decorated the corridor, giving it a royal austerity without drowning it in extravagance.

  When they entered his chambers, warmth greeted them. The air smelled faintly of pine resin and paper—a scholar’s scent rather than a warrior’s. Scrolls and maps covered one side of the room, while a low bed of purple wood occupied the other, draped in fine silks dyed the color of dawn.

  “You can sit down on my bed, or anywhere you want.”

  Ren Lin’s head moved as she took in this sight. Never did she think she would get to see such a room. It was as though it got ripped out of a painting.

  “Magical…” she mumbled as she sat.

  The prince chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Soon, a maid came.

  Feiyun Xing nodded toward Ren Lin. “Please take her measurements. She’ll need a winter set suited for deep frost.”

  The maid bowed and led Ren Lin to stand before a tall bronze mirror. Using a thread of red silk, she measured shoulder to shoulder, wrist to elbow, waist to hip. Ren Lin watched herself in the mirror—watched this quiet, obedient version of herself being recorded in numbers. The reflection felt like someone halfway between who she had been and who she was becoming.

  When the maid finished and left, Feiyun Xing lingered by the door.

  “It will be ready by morning. The tailor works fast—and her winter garments are said to be as warm as a dragon's breath.”

  Her gaze dropped. “You do so much for me… we barely know another. I’m sorry, I just feel like I take too much.”

  “Hey.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t cause any trouble for me. All these things are like peanuts for me. I’m the prince, I have enough money for multiple lifetimes. Besides, I have to thank you.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “Well, I am all alone in this huge palace. With my sister gone, I have no one here.” A sigh came from him. “I’m sure the journey we will have will help me grow. And most importantly, deepen our bond.”

  “I’m happy to hear that you think so.”

  “Naturally, but now I will need to get going. The bath is through there,” he added, gesturing to an adjoining door. “I’m heading to the market in the Second Order district. The Core I have in mind is called the ‘Vital Lotus Core.’ It’s the best for foundational reinforcement. Rest. I won’t be long.”

  “Alright, take care. And thank you—for everything.”

  “You too.” With a final, reassuring look, he turned and left.

  The door closed with a soft click.

  Ren Lin waited until his footsteps faded into the long, echoing corridor—until even the faint rustle of maids disappeared.

  The silence pressed against her, peeling away every layer of sweetness she had plastered on.

  Only then did she exhale, pressing a hand over her burning face.

  Her voice dropped into a grumble. “That was the corniest performance of my entire existence.”

  She dragged herself toward the bathroom.

  Inside, the chamber was lavish in a way that made her suspicious of every tile. Smooth black marble walls, carved with drifting lotus petals, framed the bath—a sunken pool of steaming water fed by a dragon-headed spout. Warm mist curled along the ceiling, softening the lanternlight into gold.

  Ren Lin stared.

  “Of course. Royalty can bathe in a soup of luxury while the rest of the world freezes in well-water.”

  Her robes fell to the ground as she stepped into the heat. The water swallowed her sounds of relief.

  Her muscles loosened instantly, yet her thoughts tightened.

  She sank deeper.

  “‘We’ll prove him wrong after our journey,’” she mimicked herself with disgust. “He’s just like a child. Eating up everything that’s tasty.”

  Her voice softened. “All that matters is that it works.”

  She ran a hand through her wet hair. “Still… I need to dial it down. I’m one sentence away from calling him ‘pookie-bear.’ At this rate, even the author-version of me would cringe.”

  Closing her eyes, she soaked in the heat, letting the bath lull her mind into quiet.

  Knock—knock.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  A maid’s voice drifted through the door. “My lady? I have brought towels. Should I leave them inside?”

  Ren Lin regained her composure instantly. “Yes, leave them.”

  The door slid open a crack; soft footsteps crossed the tiles. A folded stack of white towels was placed on a stool. The maid left without comment.

  Ren Lin waited until silence returned, then pushed herself out of the bath, steam rolling off her skin.

  The towels were impossibly soft—another reminder that this was not her world, not her life, not her class. She dried her hair and wrapped herself in the thick cotton, then reached for the robe the prince had lent her.

  It was white, embroidered with faint silver threads. After slipping it on, she looked at herself in the polished bronze mirror beside the basin.

  “…I look like a ghost pretending to be a saint,” she murmured.

  This was the first time she felt clean..

  The room outside was quiet, lit by the gentle glow of the crystal lamps. Ren Lin walked back into the prince’s chamber, her hair still damp, slowly drying in the palace air.

  Just as she sat on the edge of the bed—the door clicked open.

  “I’m back,” Feiyun Xing announced with a tired, yet triumphant smile. Holding up a small lacquered box. “And I got exactly what I wanted.”

  Ren Lin straightened. “The Vital Lotus Core?”

  “Mm.” He set the box on the low table and untied the clasp. “Took some bargaining, but I’ve secured one of the few pure ones left in the market.”

  Inside the box lay a Core the size of a plum. Its form resembled a transparent lotus flower.

  The air seemed to hum faintly around it. Of course, Ren Lin couldn’t ever feel it.

  “It’s one of the most used Cores. It’s a great foundation.” He picked it up. “It will hurt, are you ready?”

  Her eyes met his. “Do it.”