Lady Yue remembered that winter as if it were yesterday.
Snow fell in a soft, endless curtain over the mountain, blanketing the steps to the Cloudpetal Shrine in white. Through the frost and bitter wind, a boy no more than five years old had breached the protective barrier and climbed all one thousand stone steps to the summit.
When Yue first saw him, he was kneeling in the courtyard before the main hall, small hands pressed into the frozen stone. Snow clung to his hair and shoulders, his thin clothes soaked through, but he endured the cold in silence, carved from resolve itself.
"How did you come up here?" she asked, her voice gentle in the winter air.
"I wanted to meet the Heavenly Maiden no matter what."
"Why?"
"You saved my village from disaster," he said, lips trembling but tone steady.
"My family perished. The villagers live in poverty. I have nowhere left to go. I am just a commoner, but if my life has any value, I wish to serve you for the rest of my life."
"Stand," she said softly. "The ground is cold."
"Yes!" He obeyed, though his head remained bowed.
"Lift your head as well."
"I do not dare."
"Why?"
"For a commoner to look upon the Heavenly Maiden is an act of insolence."
Her steps were soundless in the snow as she approached. With the edge of her folding fan, she tilted his chin upward. "I don't mind."
That was the first time Theo saw her clearly. Long black hair flowing like ink in moonlight, eyes deep as a star-filled sky, a serene smile that seemed to thaw even the winter air. It was a sight he would remember for the rest of his life.
"Follow me in for tea," she said, turning toward the inner courtyard.
He trailed after her, his gaze wandering to the snow-covered gardens where not a single leaf had withered. It felt like a place untouched by the world below, a secluded heaven.
"My name is Yue," she said as they walked.
"Lady Yue," Theo answered respectfully.
"And your name?"
"It's Theo."
"Theo. A good name."
They entered the pavilion, the fragrance of freshly brewed tea lingering in the air. Theo hesitated at the entrance, hands clenched at his sides.
"What are you doing? Sit."
"Forgive me, Lady Yue. I am a commoner. My manners are crude, and my education lacking… I cannot sit across from you."
"I don't mind. If you don't know something, I will teach you. For now, sit."
"…Forgive me for my insolence."
He sat opposite her, stiff-backed and cautious, watching as she poured tea into a porcelain cup.
He lifted it too quickly, scalding his tongue, but swallowed without complaint.
"Slow down," she said. "You'll live here from now on. I will show you to your quarters later."
"I will do my best to serve you! May I ask something?"
"Go on."
"Where are your other servants?"
"There are none. You'll be the first."
"Then who tends the gardens and the cleaning…?"
"I do it myself."
His eyes widened. "How can someone as noble as you live without servants?"
"I like peace and quiet," she replied, sipping her tea. "Do you know how to read?"
"Forgive me. I am just a stupid commoner. I am ashamed."
"Don't speak of yourself that way. I dislike it. Starting tomorrow, I will teach you."
After tea, she led him to a small wooden house in the eastern wing of the shrine. The beams were polished, the floor swept, the air faintly scented with pine. It was simple, but warm. Like the shrine itself.
"This will be your home. Fetch water from the pond and warm it with coals. Bathe and clean yourself before dinner."
From her sleeve, she drew a folded set of linen garments. "They may be too big, but they are better than what you're wearing. I will make you new ones tomorrow."
Theo clutched them to his chest, tears running down his face. "I will cherish this kindness for the rest of my life."
"Then bathe quickly and join me. You must be hungry."
The next morning, the soft rustle of paper filled the quiet study. A brazier's gentle heat kept the chill at bay as Theo sat with his knees tucked beneath him.
Lady Yue knelt opposite, a fresh sheet of parchment before her. In her hand rested a fine brush, bristles dark with ink.
"Watch carefully," she said. With deliberate grace, she drew the first character, each stroke precise and fluid. "Every mark has its place, every movement a purpose."
Theo leaned forward, trying to mimic her movement. His brush spluttered ink, the lines crooked.
He winced. "Forgive me, Lady Yue…"
"No apologies," she said, taking his hand. Her fingers guided his in a slow arc. "Control comes from patience, not haste. The world will not rush you here."
When he tried again, the line was still imperfect but steadier. Yue's lips curved faintly. "Better. Again."
The Cloudpetal Shrine's barrier had been built to keep out all uninvited guests, yet this boy had passed through without force or trickery. Yue's divine eyes saw more than talent they saw a heart pure and unyielding. An orphan who had climbed a thousand steps in the snow without complaint deserved her exception.
In the days that followed, mornings were spent in writing and reading. Afternoons were for etiquette: how to kneel, bow, and serve tea. How to stand without fidgeting. How to speak with courtesy and poise.
When lessons ended, they walked through the shrine's gardens. She showed him moss-covered lanterns, koi ponds that mirrored the sky, and the sacred inner hall whose golden doors only she could open.
The years passed as gently as falling petals. Seasons changed spring blossoms, summer rains, autumn leaves, and winter snow. Theo grew taller, his brush strokes surer, his presence a constant part of the shrine's quiet life. And between them, the bond deepened not bound by duty alone, but by something warmer.