A faint gust of wind brushed past through the crimson silk curtains, making them billow like drifting clouds in the morning sky. Inside, a man sat by the open window, his figure draped in layers of white robes embroidered with golden patterns of bamboo and canary. His long, ink-black hair fell like a waterfall over his shoulders, loosely tied with a jade ornament. The brazier burned low, casting a dull glow in the room.

Beyond the window, the garden lay cloaked in frost, yet among the bare branches with no life and snow covered rocks, the plum blossoms buds grew, preparing for full bloom for the next early spring.

He gazed at them, his phoenix eyes half-lidded, reflecting the beauty before him.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor as a figure stepped into the room. He did not turn; he did not need to. The rhythm of those steps, neither hurried nor hesitant, was all too familiar to him.

He flicked his sleeve, and a maid standing behind him responded by serving two cups of tea. The quiet clink of porcelain filled the space before fading into the stillness.

The visitor stepped closer, the faint scent of pine and ink mingling with the crisp winter air. Dressed in deep navy robes with silver embroidery of clouds and, he carried an air of quiet authority, one that did not demand presence but made its absence keenly felt.

"It's unusual of you to come at this hour, A-Shu."

The seated man finally turned, lifting his gaze from the blossoms to the figure before him.

Zhou Wangshu also referred to as A-Shu, looked at the man in front of him.

His beauty was still smooth as jade, untouched by the harshness of sunlight, giving him a refined, almost unearthly presence. The years had not changed him, his phoenix eyes remained deep and unreadable, his pale lips neither smiling nor frowning. And yet, Zhou Wangshu knew better than anyone how dangerous he was.

Because this man had fooled him for so long.

He sat in front of him and neither touched the cup of tea nor gave his usual greetings.

"Your Highness, do you remember the incident three years ago?"

Zhou Wangshu's fingers, resting lightly on the table, curled ever so slightly.

He wanted answers, any answers to prove what he had found was wrong.

That him trusting this man is not a mistake.

That out of everyone in this world, he would not betray him.

Wu Yingyue's phoenix eyes darkened, but his expression remained unreadable. Instead of answering, he picked up his teacup, studying the swirling patterns of steam.

A moment of silence stretched between them before a soft voice, warm, broke it.
"Three years is a long time. Tell me, A-Shu... which incident are you referring to?"

Wu Yingyue calmly took a sip of his tea and then quietly lifted his phoenix eyes, meeting Zhou Wangshu's gaze.

Zhou Wangshu didn't answer, only stared at the man. Only then did Wu Yingyue notice how red Zhou Wangshu's eyes were.

"Does Your Majesty really want me to say it?"

As if finding something in his eyes, a self-deprecation smile surfaced on Zhou Wangshu's pale face.

"I am just a fool, aren't I, Your Highness? I dared to believe they were wrong, even after all the evidence pointed otherwise."

 "Haha... When the whole court suspected you, I spoke for you. I never believed you could hurt Xiao Ming."

Then, with a pause, he continued, "I never thought you were such a person, Your Highness."

A suffocating silence engulfed the room; no servants dared to lift their heads.

The Duke of Canghe(1) had come and dared to accuse His Highness on his face. No one knew how the Crown Prince would respond—they only hoped they wouldn't be caught in the cyclone.

Just when everyone thought the Crown Prince would punish the Duke, Wu Yingyue's lips parted,
"Duke Zhao got it wrong. Nobody in the palace is innocent, neither am I."

A loud thump shattered the silence as Zhou Wangshu's hand struck the table.

"Tell me, Your Highness, how much innocent blood is on your hands? How many lives did you take to reach the position you have now?"

Zhou Wangshu leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of contempt and sorrow. "Not only did you raise your sword toward your half-siblings, but you schemed to kill your own younger brother."

Wu Yingyue's hand trembled slightly before he clasped it into a fist, resting it against his knee beneath the table. His voice, when it came, was quiet but steady.

"Impudent!" Guang Ze, who had been standing at the corner of the room, called out. The direct accusation of murdering a member of the royal bloodline was a grave crime. No matter how powerful the Duke of Canghe was, challenging the Crown Prince like this bordered on treason.

But Wu Yingyue raised his hand, silencing him. "Everyone leaves."

Eunuch Guang hesitated for a moment but then lowered his head and gestured to the servants. One by one, they filed out, closing the doors behind them with a soft thud.

The room grew quieter,

"Does the Duke know the weight of his words?" Wu Yingyue asked, his phoenix eyes sharp, yet his tone eerily calm.

"Wu Ying Yue!"

The faint clink of porcelain echoed as Wu Yingyue picked up his teacup, taking a slow sip, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. Setting it down gently, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady, unfazed.

"He was the foolish one. The throne only belongs to those who earn it," Wu Yingyue said, his tone devoid of any remorse. "When has the matter of blood ever been a deciding factor in ruling this land?"

Zhou Wangshu scoffed, and a bitter smile made its way to his lips as he shook his head. "Disgusting. You disgust me, Your Highness."

His voice burned raw with unspoken pain. "To think that the person I lo—" He paused, biting back the words as he took a shaky breath, his chest heaving. "Heh, you must have thought me naïve too, right? A fool. Playing with me like that."

Wu Yingyue's expression cracked, the illusionary unshakable calm replaced by a hint of pain. "A-Shu, I never—"

"Don't call me A-Shu!"

The brazier's flames wavered, their dim light casting long shadows on the walls. Zhou Wangshu's eyes, bloody red with unshed tears, bore into Wu Yingyue.

"You knew," Zhou Wangshu's voice cracked.

In all these years, he had never lost control of his emotions, not when he had been accused falsely before the court, not when he had almost lost his life with numerous arrows piercing his chest, not even when Xiao Ming fell into the river.

Through betrayals, through schemes, through the cold battlefields at the borders, Zhou Wangshu had held firm like tempered steel.

Yet now, sitting before Wu Yingyue,

The man he once trusted above all others,

The composure he had guarded so fiercely crumbled. His breath came in uneven gasps, and his hands shook as they gripped the edge of the table.

"You knew how much Xiao Ming meant to me. You knew I had feelings for Xiao Ming. You knew the House of Zhao would only support the Second Prince! An incomplete and quiet prince like you who never had my father's support!"

"You knew how hard I fought to protect you, to support you when no one else did. And yet... you used me. You betrayed me just like everyone else!"

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as if the pain could wake him from the nightmare surrounding him. But it couldn't,

There was nothing compared to the agony tearing through his chest. 

"Tell me, Wu Yingyue, was I just another pawn to you? Was I nothing to you? How does it feel to play with me like that?"

Wu Yingyue's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"Heh. Even now, you refuse to give me answers?" Zhou Wangshu sneered.

Zhou Wangshu straightened. His eyes were hollow, yet his tone was steady, carrying an icy edge that sliced through the heavy air.

"Father was correct," Zhou Wangshu said, his words falling like stones into a still lake. "You are a snake... a cunning, selfish person who thinks only of himself and no one else."

Wu Yingyue flinched, but Zhou Wangshu ignored it.

He rose from his seat with measured grace. "From now on, the Duke of Canghe will no longer support Your Highness." His voice was devoid of warmth or hesitation. "My apologies."

For a fleeting moment, Wu Yingyue's hand reached out, as if to stop him. But it hesitated mid-air before retreating.

(1) Canghe (苍河) could be interpreted as "Vast Gray-Blue River", but here it means, 'A refined yet formidable noble with mastery overflowing, water-like martial arts.' which is suitable for a duke. 

If you know a bit about medieval titles, it would not be too difficult to understand what's going on here; just in case, ask any questions in the comments, and I will try to answer them as soon as possible.

Okay, take care sweets! <3 <3