Su Ning's hand grasped Xiao Hong's arm — firm, but not rough — and for once, there was no teasing glint in his eyes, only quiet urgency.
"Xiao Hong," he said lowly, "there's something I need to show you. Please, come with me."
She raised a brow at him, half amused, half suspicious. His tone was unusual — no orders, no dry sarcasm — just... earnestness. It was unsettling.
"Alright, General," she drawled, lips twitching upward as she allowed herself to be led. "If you're about to show me some secret weapon stash, I'm charging a tour fee."
Su Ning said nothing, just tightened his hold slightly and tugged her along.
From the shadows, Jiu Tian watched them, his expression carved in stone. As the two figures disappeared into the distance, he muttered under his breath, so low only the night itself could hear, "The more you interfere, the higher the price you may have to pay."
His gaze lingered on them for a long time.
The night was crisp as Su Ning and Xiao Hong rode swiftly through narrow, overgrown paths. They arrived at a secluded cabin tucked away in the forest, a lonely, almost forgotten place under the silver light of the moon.
Su Ning dismounted first, offering her his hand with a simple look. She ignored it — prideful as ever — and hopped down herself, dusting her robes with a small, defiant flick of her wrist.
He said nothing, only led her inside.
Inside, the cabin smelled faintly of cedar and dust. Su Ning moved with deliberate steps to a table covered by a cloth. He pulled it back carefully, revealing an array of intricate wooden carvings — delicate flowers, powerful beasts, sprawling landscapes, all captured in breathtaking detail.
"I wanted you to see these," he said quietly, almost reverently.
Xiao Hong blinked at the sudden reveal, caught off guard. "What, you're trying to convince me you're secretly an artist now?" she said lightly, but her voice faltered halfway.
Because... the carvings called to her.
Drawn despite herself, she reached out, fingers brushing the surface of a carved flower. In the moonlight, the wood almost seemed to glow — and as she touched it, flashes of something — no, someone — stirred at the edge of her mind.
Soulful eyes.
Forests thick with mist.
A woman wielding a sword, her movements sharp but graceful, like a song on the wind.
Her hand recoiled slightly. She stood frozen, breathless, as the memories — or visions, or dreams, whatever they were — played across the surfaces of the carvings, haunting and achingly familiar.
She didn't know this woman.
And yet... she knew her.
Su Ning was watching her carefully, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation and fear.
Finally, Xiao Hong turned to him, her voice rough with confusion. "These memories... they're not mine," she said. Her lips twisted into a sneer, as if mocking herself. "Don't tell me... is this that famous Yinou?"
Su Ning's throat worked as he swallowed. His eyes were suspiciously bright in the dim cabin. "Yes," he said simply. "The woman you see — the one you remember — is Yinou."
Xiao Hong stared at him, then back at the carvings. Her mouth opened as if to say something sarcastic, something biting — but the words failed her. Instead, she muttered, almost dazed, "Yinou..."
The name tasted bitter on her tongue.
Before the silence could stretch awkwardly, Su Ning straightened, as if remembering why he had brought her here in the first place.
"I showed you these," he said, voice gentler now, "because I will be gone for a while. I wanted to entrust this cabin to you."
Xiao Hong blinked, snapped out of her trance. She crossed her arms and gave him a look — half incredulous, half accusing. "Gone?" she repeated. "What, running off without telling your favorite enemy goodbye?"
Su Ning's lips quirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "There are droughts and riots at the border. My group and I are more useful fighting than sitting idle."
He paused, watching her carefully. "This place is special to me. I trust you with it."
For the first time, the teasing fell from her. Xiao Hong's heart twisted in an unfamiliar way. She reached out impulsively and grabbed his hand — something she would normally never do.
"You're speaking as if you might not come back," she said, and to her horror, her voice was a little too soft, a little too vulnerable.
Su Ning turned his hand over, loosely intertwining their fingers. His smile was small but steady. "I will do my utmost," he promised. "But... the future is never certain."
The moonlight softened his sharp features, making him look almost boyish. Almost breakable.
Xiao Hong's pride kicked in, pushing down the ache rising in her chest. She squeezed his hand once, hard.
"Then listen," she said, lifting her chin with a signature flash of arrogance. "If you survive and come back alive... you'll owe me a favor. One wish."
Su Ning blinked at her, momentarily thrown off.
"A wish?" he repeated, almost smiling. "And if it's something outrageous?"
"You said you trust me," she said, a sly glint in her eye. "Don't tell me you're losing faith now, General?"
He laughed, soft and rueful. "Very well," he said. "I'll fulfill your wish."
Xiao Hong released his hand with an almost imperceptible reluctance. A faint blush touched her cheeks, but she quickly turned away, masking it behind a cocky smirk.
"Then it's a promise," she said.
Su Ning nodded solemnly, something heavy and unspoken passing between them. "It's a promise."
He lingered for one more moment, as if trying to memorize the sight of her — the way the moonlight kissed the defiant tilt of her head, the stubborn warmth burning in her eyes.
And then, with a final glance, he turned and stepped out into the night, the cold air swallowing him whole.
Xiao Hong stood by the table, alone now, fingers brushing the carved flower once more.
She whispered, to no one in particular:
"Don't you dare break that promise."