Si Yirou had originally come to see Li Yan.
But the moment she stepped into the doorway of the second floor of Sacred Feather Residence, just as she was about to speak, the corner of her eye caught—
the figure beside the bed.
Si Mo Heng.
Her steps stopped instantly.
The man's back was slightly hunched, one hand still gripping Youqing's hand tightly.
His knuckles were pale, as though he were holding onto the last breath of life.
He had always been cold.
Always ruthless.
Always a man who kept the world three paces away.
The sharpest blade in the entire Yao Realm.
But now—
his face was drained of color.
His eyes were rimmed red.
The lines between his brows had loosened into the exhaustion of someone tortured by a sleepless night.
It was a kind of weakness—
so fragile it looked close to breaking.
Si Yirou felt something stir in her chest.
She suddenly realized—
she had never seen this younger brother like this before.
Growing up, she and Si Mo Heng had rarely been close. Even as adults they had barely met.
But every time she had seen him, he had always been the same:
cold, composed, ruthless.
A blade hidden behind human skin.
Yet now—
he rested his forehead against Youqing's hand like a drowning man clutching driftwood.
In that moment, for the first time—
Si Yirou felt pity for her brother.
She had never looked at him this way before.
Never thought of him as someone who might need comfort… someone who might need a place to rest his heart.
But in this moment—
she understood.
Si Mo Heng had never been without feeling.
He had simply never met the person who could awaken it—
until now.
She watched him sitting there, guarding the girl like a man ready to shatter apart.
Her chest tightened.
And for the first time, she admitted silently:
This brother of mine… knows how to love.
He could fear.
He could lose control.
He could lower his head for someone.
Si Yirou glanced at the unconscious Youqing on the bed, then back at Si Mo Heng's gaze—so fixed on her as if she might vanish if he blinked.
A thought rose in her heart that had never been there before.
If this girl is the only person capable of softening that killing edge in my brother…
then—
I will stand on her side.
Si Yirou exhaled quietly.
When she withdrew her gaze, the pride in her expression had softened, replaced by a hint of warmth.
For the first time she truly understood—
Si Mo Heng did not lack a heart.
He had simply placed his entire heart
on the girl lying on that bed.
She lingered at the doorway a moment longer, eyes passing between Youqing and Si Mo Heng.
She had meant to say something more, but Li Yan spoke softly beside her.
"For now… we can only wait for her to wake. His Highness cannot help further here."
He paused, his tone unusually gentle.
"Your Highness… come back to the General's Manor with me and rest."
Si Yirou blinked.
In public he always called her "Your Highness."
Only in private would he lower his voice and call her Yirou.
This time his words carried a warmth unlike his usual self.
Li Yan continued quietly.
"When Xingyu has recovered, we will go to the Yao Palace together to pay respects to the Crown Prince."
His gaze shifted toward the distance, steady as forged steel.
"There are matters… that must be reported clearly."
When he finished speaking, he reached out naturally—
and took her hand.
Not a rough grip.
Not a guard supporting his princess.
But a true clasp—
their fingers interlocked, his palm fully enclosing hers.
Si Yirou froze.
Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
She had always been the bold one—
the one who approached him, teased him, tugged at his guarded heart.
But today—
Li Yan moved first.
She looked up at him.
On that face usually as cold as stone, there was a faint softness—so real it reached straight into her chest.
"Watching them…" he said quietly, his honesty more open than ever before,
"I realized something."
"I am very fortunate. Very happy."
Si Yirou held her breath.
He lowered his eyes to her, tightening his fingers around hers.
"The one I love is safe… and standing beside me."
Her eyes immediately filled with tears.
Si Yirou had always been proud, fierce, unyielding.
Very few things could make her cry.
But now—
looking at Li Yan—
a man who buried his feelings so deep they seemed carved into bone—
who finally, in the pale morning light,
held her hand first,
and admitted she was the one he loved—
her voice trembled like mist.
"Li Yan…"
He leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching.
"Your Highness does not need to cry," he said softly.
"I'm here."
Those two words—
I'm here—
carried more peace than any oath.
Her tears finally fell.
But they were tears of happiness.
Of being answered.
Of being held.
She wrapped her arms around him, her voice muffled against his armor.
"You finally… stopped running from me."
Li Yan closed his eyes and pulled her closer.
"I won't anymore."
Morning light poured over them—
as if illuminating a love long buried in silence for the very first time.
When Li Yan walked down the stairs holding Si Yirou's hand,
the entire eastern corridor fell silent.
Even the faint hum of the qingyao stone light could be heard.
Everyone's eyes followed the pair—
the Ironwall General and the Eldest Princess.
Only after they disappeared down the corridor—
did the Three Generals explode.
Tutan — First to Break
He stared wide-eyed like he'd been struck by lightning.
"W-w-wait—what?!"
He rubbed his eyes violently.
"Am I still dreaming? Li Yan just walked off holding the princess's hand?!"
He gestured wildly.
"And not just holding! That was full finger-locking hand-holding! That's serious holding!"
Garo slapped the back of his head.
"Shut up. Why are you yelling?"
Tutan grimaced. "How can I whisper that?! That's Li Yan we're talking about! The guy who barely speaks! And he wins the princess?!"
Garo — Instantly Salty
He crossed his arms and inhaled the morning air dramatically.
"Unbelievable…"
"One after another, everyone finds someone. And we three are still standing here getting rained on."
Lianyu lifted an eyelid.
"I'm not getting rained on. That's just you."
Garo: "…Be quiet."
He glanced toward the direction Li Yan had disappeared.
"That block of stone finally learned romance…"
Lianyu — Precision Strike
He had been silent until Garo's complaints ended.
Then he spoke calmly.
"Unexpected. Li Yan is better at courting than you."
Garo slowly turned.
"…Are you mocking me?"
"I'm stating a fact."
Tutan snorted.
And so the three generals stood there—
one sharp-tongued, one coolly detached, one loud and bewildered—
yet all three wearing the exact same expression:
Why are we the only ones still single?
The faint jealousy mixed with warmth lingered in the morning mist.
Tutan scratched his head, distressed.
"No, something's wrong. Something's seriously wrong!"
Garo rolled his eyes.
"And what now?"
Tutan pointed around the courtyard.
"Look! Cang Yuan has Miss Xie, Lin Lie has Miss Ding, Sang Qi has Miss Li, Luo Ye has Miss Ling Dang—now even Li Yan and the princess—"
The more he counted, the more hopeless his face became.
"Does this manor… only allow couples to live here?!"
For three seconds—
the corridor went silent.
Then—
Garo burst into laughter.
"What 'couples-only housing'?!" he wheezed.
"What is this place—Yaodu's matchmaking temple?!"
Lianyu rested his chin on his hand and nodded seriously.
"Well… if you two stay here long enough, maybe some girl will eventually take pity on you."
He said it with perfect sincerity.
And Tutan nearly howled.