"Make things difficult for me?"
Dai Chengfeng recalled Qian Daoliu's murderous glare and grimaced.
"Nearly scared me to death."
"But at least he gave in—told me to treat you well, or he'd skin me alive."
Qian Renxue burst out laughing, picturing her grandfather's furious face—and Dai Chengfeng's flustered panic.
She poked his chest lightly. "Serves you right. Who told you to sneak in at midnight…"
"Who can blame me when you're so tempting?"
Dai Chengfeng chuckled, kissing her neck before lifting his head. Gazing at her flushed face inches away, his eyes softened. "But it was worth it."
Qian Renxue's cheeks burned. She hid her face against his chest, avoiding his smoldering gaze.
Dai Chengfeng stopped teasing, simply holding her as they savored the rare morning peace.
After a long while, he remembered something. Lips brushing her ear, he murmured:
"How's the Tian Dou Empire? Anyone troubling you?"
His voice was low, earnest—brimming with concern.
Warmth bloomed in Qian Renxue's chest. She shook her head against him. "It's fine—everything's on track. Just… sometimes I feel tired. Lonely."
Dai Chengfeng's arms tightened, as if channeling strength into her.
"You've done enough. If you want to stop pretending, you can."
"No…" She shook her head firmly. "Don't talk me out of it. I can't quit halfway."
"Alright, alright."
They stayed entwined, whispering—about trivialities in Tian Dou, dreams for the future—time slipping away unnoticed.
Sunlight soon flooded the room.
Qian Renxue stirred. "We should get up."
This time, Dai Chengfeng obeyed, releasing her.
They rose, smoothing their rumpled clothes.
Qian Renxue turned to him, sunlight gilding her smile. "Walk with me through Spirit City? It feels strange being back."
How could he refuse that hopeful look?
He took her hand, lips curving. "Of course. Today I'm all yours, my Angel Princess."
Her blush deepened, but she didn't pull away. Hand in hand, they stepped into the sunlit streets.
Dawn painted the city gold. Shops opened; vendors hawked wares; cart wheels rumbled over cobblestones. The air carried fresh bread, savory broths, and distant floral sweetness.
Amidst the crowd, Qian Renxue clung to Dai Chengfeng's hand—a simple touch that felt like stolen luxury. Years of playing "Xue Qinghe" had made her forget walking freely under the sun as herself.
Dai Chengfeng caught the flicker of emotion in her eyes. Leaning close, he whispered:
"Does it feel strange?"
She shook her head, a genuine smile touching her lips. "It's just… unreal. Like borrowed time."
Her gaze swept the familiar streets. "Spirit City hasn't changed—but everything feels different."
"The city hasn't changed. You have."
He squeezed her hand, thumb stroking her knuckles. "You're seeing it with new eyes."
Sunlight carved sharp angles on Dai Chengfeng's profile, softening his usual sharpness into tenderness. Qian Renxue felt an unexpected sense of belonging—walking these memory-laden streets with him.
"Where to?" he asked indulgently.
"Anywhere," she said, eyes catching on a jewelry stall. "Let's see those trinkets."
An amiable middle-aged vendor greeted them warmly.
Qian Renxue was drawn to a silver brooch set with pale blue crystals—its cold glint mirroring her martial spirit's hue.
"Like it?" Dai Chengfeng picked it up, fingertips grazing her collarbone—sending shivers down her spine.
He leaned in, voice velvet: "It suits you. Cold yet radiant—just like you."
She blushed, shooting him a mock glare—but didn't argue.
Holding the brooch to her neckline, she nodded—it matched perfectly.
"Wrap it up," Dai Chengfeng told the vendor, then added a gem-studded hairband. "This too."
"Why buy so much?" Qian Renxue blinked.
"For you."
After paying, he gently tied the band around her wind-tousled hair, knotting it simply.
"There. Now you look like a noblewoman sneaking out to play—not the lofty Angel Clan's Heir."
His eyes danced with mischief.
Qian Renxue touched the band, sweetness flooding her chest.
He always noticed these details—using casual gestures to ease her burdens, making her forget her heavy crown.
They wandered aimlessly—past bustling avenues into a quiet alley. An old sweetshop's honeyed aroma drew them in.
"I remember this place," Qian Renxue paused, nostalgia in her eyes. "Grandfather used to bring me here for honey cake."
"Let's try some," Dai Chengfeng suggested.
Inside, worn wooden tables gleamed with age. They sat by the window, ordering honey cake and tea.
The cake melted on her tongue—sweet, fragrant, evoking memories of a gentler Qian Daoliu, his rare smiles…
"Thinking of Elder Qian?" Dai Chengfeng guessed.
She nodded, setting down her spoon. "Grandfather… cares deeply. He just shows it… fiercely."
She recalled his "cabbage trampled by pigs" lament—amused yet exasperated.
Dai Chengfeng sipped his tea, eyes knowing. "He worries for you. But I'll make him see."
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