The arrival of Second Prince Shen Huairen brought a rare calm to YongShen Hall, like soft rain after long stillness. He came with minimal escort—no golden banners or ornate carriages, just two guards, his younger sister, and quiet dignity.
Princess Zhen Li, poised and refined, bore the same composed grace as her brother. She wore jade silk, her sleeves stitched with gentle waves—imperial, but not overbearing.
Lianhua met them at the inner courtyard gates alongside the steward Wei An. She bowed formally.
"Your highnesses, YongShen Hall welcomes you."
Huairen returned the gesture with humility. "We come not as guests to be honored, but as kin to offer warmth."
The welcome tea was held in the snow garden hall, flanked by pine boughs and carved window screens. Huairen declined the head cushion, choosing instead to sit beside Liwei —not across from him.
"We meet rarely, little brother," he said with a faint smile. "But I see the mountains have sharpened you."
Liwei offered no comment, but Lianhua noticed his eyes lingered a moment longer on Huairen's sister.
Princess Zhenli turned to her with a kind expression. "My Lady, I hope Long Zhi does not feel too remote."
"Remote, yes," Lianhua replied, "But not empty."
Later, while walking through the stone paths beneath bare maple branches, Lianhua and Huairen paused at a koi pond lined with frost.
"She was worried for you," Huairen said gently.
"Who?"
"My mother," he replied softly. "She was never Empress, but she had a kind heart. She cared even for the sons not born of her—especially Liwei. I remember how she used to leave extra rice cakes for him when he would not eat." Lianhua was quiet.
"You've seen little of Liwei 's past," he continued. "I was ten when he came to the palace nursery. He rarely spoke. Didn't eat for two days. On the third, he broke a boy's jaw for mocking his clothes. On the fourth, he sat under a plum tree for hours and told no one why."
"And The Third Prince?"
Huairen's eyes darkened slightly. "Wuying? He speaks little. But he watches everything. He hasn't come, but his gifts arrived first. And his concern… comes quietest of all."
That night, Lianhua passed Liwei near the inner hall. He stood beside a map of the northern ridges, tracing the ink lines slowly, methodically.
She almost called out to him. But didn't.
Behind her, Huairen's voice came soft as paper.
"Sometimes we learn to speak with steel because no one listened to our words."
She turned slightly. "Do you fear him too?"
Huairen shook his head. "No. I fear those who fear him."
And with that, he walked away, leaving only the sound of wind brushing snow against the pine beams.