After a long while, the ministers bowed and retreated, and the Dragon Hall gradually quieted down.
Yiyi also rubbed her eyes and woke up.
She blinked, groggily climbed up, and sat on Xiamier’s lap.
Her little head, not yet fully awake, hadn’t registered the edge of the throne.
She instinctively took a step forward—her foot landed on empty air, and her whole body tumbled down like a round little dumpling.
“Thud—Thud—Thud”.
She rolled down the jade steps of the throne, her pajama hem flipping up to reveal her reddened little legs.
Finally, with a soft “plop,” she stopped on the jade brick floor of the Ice Palace.
The little one looked around in a daze.
She braced herself against the chilly floor and slowly climbed up, her knee knocking against the jade, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her.
Yiyi lowered her head and looked at her legs and knees.
Her once fair skin was now scraped red over a large area.
There was even a faint bruise on her knee.
When she touched it with her fingertip, The pain made her eyes turn red instantly, her nose tingling.
Tears welled up but she stubbornly held them back.
“Mm… it hurts…” she muttered softly, biting her lower lip in grievance as she looked toward Xiamier, her little face full of helplessness.
The old minister, who hadn’t gone far, heard the commotion, quickly turned back, and hurried over.
Even his graying beard trembled as he bent down, his tone anxious: “Your Highness! Your Highness, are you alright? Let this old servant have a look, your knee’s all red—does it hurt?”
He reached out, wanting to help her up, but was afraid of touching her wound.
His hand hovered in the air, not daring to move.
Xiamier had already risen from the throne and in a few quick, light steps reached Yiyi’s side, crouching down swiftly.
Before the old minister could speak again, she gently supported Yiyi’s arm with one hand, carefully avoiding her bruised knee with the other, and steadily gathered her into her arms: “Yibao, where does it hurt most? Let Mother have a look.”
As Xiamier picked her up, Yiyi’s whole body tensed up.
Her little paws pushed hard at the other’s chest, tears still unshed, but her tone stiffened: “Go away! I—I don’t need your concern! I can get up myself!”
But as soon as she finished, a sharp pain shot from her knee, making her gasp, and her strength faltered.
Her small body unconsciously snuggled closer into Xiamier’s arms.
She bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry, but still couldn’t hold back a tiny sob: “It’s all the fault of these stupid slippery steps… I don’t need your help!”
Xiamier didn’t call her out on her stubbornness, just gently adjusted her posture so Yiyi could lean more steadily, careful not to touch the injured knee, her voice soft as cotton: “Alright, alright, it’s the steps’ fault. But Yibao, you can’t stand up now from the pain, so let Mother hold you for a bit. Once the medicine is on, it won’t hurt anymore, alright?”
The old minister quickly chimed in as well: “Your Highness, Her Majesty is right. Your knee’s taken quite a bump—you can’t just tough it out!”
Yiyi’s cheeks flushed bright red.
She wanted to argue but the pain in her knee blocked the words.
She could only sulkily turn her face away, but her little paw quietly gripped Xiamier’s robe.
It was just for now, anyway.
Once she didn’t hurt anymore, she’d definitely settle the score with her!
Not long after, the minister sent to fetch medicine hurried back, holding a carved wooden box and bowed as he offered it to Xiamier:
“Your Majesty, this is the best anti-swelling ointment in the clan. It’s cool and soothing, and will ease the pain.”
Xiamier responded with a soft “Mm,” then sat on a nearby couch with Yiyi in her arms, carefully setting her on her lap so her injured knee hung free, and accepted the box.
The ointment was a pale green, with a faint herbal fragrance.
She scooped out a bit with her fingertip, rubbed it evenly in her palm, then looked down at Yiyi, her voice even gentler: “Yibao, bear with it for a moment. Once the medicine is on, it won’t hurt anymore.”
Yiyi still turned her face away, but didn’t struggle.
Her little paw only gripped tighter, and she muttered softly: “I—I’m not afraid of pain! Just hurry up!”
Though she sounded tough, as soon as Xiamier’s fingertip touched her reddened knee, She couldn’t help flinching, her eyes growing redder.
Xiamier’s movements were especially gentle, her ointment-cooled fingertips circling lightly over the swelling, carefully avoiding the bruise, her touch as soft as a feather.
“If it hurts, say so. You don’t have to tough it out,” she coaxed as she applied the ointment, gently patting Yiyi’s back with her other hand, as if soothing a startled little animal.
The minister standing by saw Yiyi gradually relax and couldn’t help but smile: “Your Highness, this ointment is made from thousand-year snow lotus. Whenever the little ones in the clan bump themselves, the swelling’s gone by the next day. Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.”
Yiyi said nothing, only sneaking a glance at the ointment on her knee, then quickly turning away again.
But her little body no longer tensed up, instead leaning further into Xiamier’s embrace.
The ointment’s coolness, blended with Xiamier’s palm’s warmth, really did ease the pain.
Just then, Xiamier suddenly spoke, her fingertips still gently massaging Yiyi’s knee: “Yibao, tonight I’ll take you to play at the Blood Clan’s side, and let you ‘meet someone’ as well.”
Yiyi snapped her head up, her scarlet slit pupils filled with surprise: “Wha—where? The Blood Clan?”
That “someone,” could it be A Ze? If it really was him.
Hmph💢, just wait and see how she’d stab him to death!!
Then kill that traitor for good!!
…
…
Night in Blood City of the Blood Clan was steeped in a faint red mist, even the wind carrying a hint of blood sakura’s sweetness.
The lanterns lining both sides of the street glowed warm, casting a ruddy light over the stone-paved road.
Occasionally, a Blood Clan attendant passed by, skirts brushing the ground.
The soft rustle of cloth mixed with distant murmurs, making the night feel far from lonely.
Xiamier held Yiyi’s tiny hand, her palm’s warmth just enclosing Yiyi’s fingertips.
With every step, she slowed her pace to match the child’s quick, short-legged strides.
The hem of Yiyi’s pink pajamas swept the road, now and then kicking a pebble.
Every so often, she’d sneak a glance up, her scarlet slit pupils full of “fighting spirit,” her little head endlessly plotting.
If she saw A Ze, she’d step on his foot while he wasn’t looking, snatch his blood sakura candy, then angrily call him a “traitor!”
And finally, finally stab him to death!!
But at the thought, she got a bit nervous, and quietly sidled closer to Xiamier.
Her little body brushed against the other’s dangling silver-white scales.
The icy sensation made her instantly straighten her back, pretending, “I’m not scared at all.”
“Xiamier, how much further?” she couldn’t help urging, though her voice wasn’t so tough—just a bit of childish impatience.
Xiamier looked down, the corners of her mouth quietly curving up: “Almost there, just around the corner and you’ll see the palace gates. Why so anxious?”
“I—I’m not!” Yiyi retorted at once, her cheeks burning red.
She tried to shake off Xiamier’s hand, but couldn’t, and instead her fingertips were gently squeezed.
Biting her lip, she turned her face aside, but her eyes were drawn to a shop by the road.
Inside glass jars, the blood sakura candy sparkled, its sweet scent drifting on the wind, making her stomach growl a little.
Her little paw gripped Xiamier’s hand even tighter.
As they passed a stone bridge, the river below glimmered with a faint red light, lantern reflections swaying on the water.
Yiyi paused, unconsciously edging closer to Xiamier.
Her knee still ached from her earlier fall.
She definitely didn’t want to trip again.
Sensing her unease, Xiamier gently squeezed her hand, her voice even softer:
“Don’t be afraid, just walk with Mother.”
Yiyi didn’t reply, only nodded her little head, though her gaze drifted to another shop in the distance, her mind secretly changing plans.
If she saw A Ze, she’d grab the candy first, then stomp his foot—that’s more worthwhile!
Then stab him!