The engagement banquet was days away, and the empire buzzed like a hive stirred by unseen hands.
Gossip flowed like wine.
Rumors of the Marshal's possible return swirled alongside whispers of a powerful ger seen at his side.
All while the Zerg remained unnervingly silent — too silent.
Xiao Lin stood still as the royal tailor adjusted the ceremonial robes on him — deep crimson and black, trimmed with threads of silver that shimmered like starlight.
"You'll be the most striking one at the banquet," Lu Jian said, lounging nearby. "Sheng Long will probably choke on his wine."
Xiao Lin flushed. "It's just a formality..."
Lu Jian raised a brow. "Is it?"
He gently flicked the fox pendant around Xiao Lin's neck. "This says otherwise."
Sheng Long stood outside the courtyard waiting, arms crossed, black robes rippling slightly in the wind.
When Xiao Lin stepped out — dressed, radiant, nervously adjusting his collar — something inside Sheng Long stopped.
"You're not allowed to look that good," the Marshal muttered under his breath.
Xiao Lin tilted his head. "Did you say something?"
Sheng Long offered his arm in silence.
Xiao Lin hesitated before looping his hand through it. As they walked, he leaned in slightly and whispered, "I still haven't given you a gift back."
"You don't have to."
"But I want to."
He reached into the folds of his robe and brought out a pendant — a small, exquisitely carved dragon, entwined gently by a silver fox.
It glowed faintly with his mental energy. A bond token.
"I wanted to wait," Xiao Lin said shyly, "but… I guess I'm bad at waiting."
Sheng Long took it carefully, eyes unreadable as he thumbed the pendant.
"You made this?"
Xiao Lin nodded. "With the cook's help. I… didn't know how to carve at first."
There was a pause. Then Sheng Long, slowly, looped the pendant around his neck, letting it rest against his chest.
"I'll wear it into battle," he said.
Their eyes met. For a second, time held its breath.
That night, in the quiet glow of the guest quarters, Sheng Long found Xiao Lin watching the stars again.
"You're always out here," he said, stepping beside him.
"It's the only place quiet enough to hear my thoughts."
"I never thought I'd want to hear someone else's thoughts more than my own," Sheng Long murmured.
Xiao Lin turned sharply. "What did you just say?"
The Marshal stepped forward, close — too close.
"I said…" he hesitated, voice rough, "you make the chaos feel distant."
Xiao Lin blinked, unsure what to say, heat rising to his cheeks.
"Don't," Sheng Long warned gently, "don't look at me like that unless you want me to—"
Xiao Lin didn't look away.
A breath. A moment. Then:
Lips met.
Soft, tentative, but aching with unspoken things.
It didn't last long — but it left them both stunned.
"…Was that—?" Xiao Lin whispered, wide-eyed.
"I don't know," Sheng Long muttered, already turning away. "But we'll talk after the banquet."
"Why wait?"
"Because if I fall for you, I'll burn down the empire for you."
And with that, he was gone.
Elsewhere…
In the deepest corners of the palace, beneath veils of shadow and scented smoke, Princess An Li stood before a mirror.
"You've made progress?" came a voice behind her.
"Yes," she said, smile sharpening. "He's started trusting me again."
"Good. The Marshal's mind is strong. But everyone has a weakness."
An Li's eyes glittered.
"And I think," she said softly, "his has red eyes and fox ears."