Chapter 8: A Sword Between Us
Later that afternoon, Mei Xiao wandered through the plum blossom garden, trailing her fingers along the trees. Everything here looked like it came straight out of a historical drama—except this was no drama. It was her new life.
A very inconvenient one.
She had no memory of ancient etiquette, couldn't hold chopsticks properly, and had no idea what her supposed "skills" as Mei Lin were. If someone asked her to embroider, she might accidentally sew her sleeve to the table.
"You're not where you should be," came a calm, low voice.
She turned.
Murong Jing He stood at the edge of the garden, arms crossed behind his back, robes flowing like shadows over stone. Even in broad daylight, the man gave off imperial pressure.
"I wasn't aware there was a schedule for looking at flowers," Mei Xiao replied, folding her arms.
He stepped closer. "You skipped your training."
"Training?" she blinked. "You expect me to do martial arts with this body? I almost tripped over my skirt coming down the stairs."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You used to be graceful."
She grinned. "Well, maybe your wife got replaced by someone who trips over air."
He said nothing. But his gaze lingered. And then, unexpectedly, he unsheathed his sword and held it out to her, hilt first.
"Try," he said.
"What?" she laughed. "What if I stab myself?"
"Then I will consider you unfit to bear my name."
"Oh wow," she deadpanned. "Nothing motivates a girl like possible death and disappointment."
Still, something about the blade in his hand called to her. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out—and the moment her fingers touched it, a pulse of warmth shot through her arm.
Murong Jing He's expression changed for a flicker of a second.
"You… You've never touched a weapon," he murmured.
"Yeah, and yet it's humming. What does that mean? Is your sword possessed?"
"No." He frowned deeper. "It's reacting to your spirit energy."
She blinked. "Okay. What does that mean?"
"It means…" He stepped closer, watching her. "You are not as ordinary as you pretend to be."
Her heart skipped.
Neither are you, she thought, watching the man who just moments ago treated her like a political nuisance.
And now? He was looking at her like she might be a puzzle worth solving.