After an unknown amount of time, Xiao Xun's eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes. A lingering sleepiness and confusion remained in his eyes, but they instantly cleared. He felt the thin blanket covering him, and his gaze fell upon Xin Jiuwei, who was quietly reading under the lamp.

Xin Jiuwei noticed his gaze, looked up, and met his deep eyes. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she said softly, "Your Highness is awake? Would you like to rest a little longer?"

Xiao Xun didn't speak, but simply sat up straight and folded the thin blanket that had slipped off, placing it aside. He glanced at the deep night outside the window, then stood up: "It's getting late, I'll be going back."

"Your Highness, please take care." Xin Jiuwei stood up to see him off.

Xiao Xun walked to the door, paused for a moment, and without turning around, said in a low voice, "Blanket... thank you."

Xin Jiuwei's heart skipped a beat. Watching his figure disappear through the door, she slowly sat back down in her chair. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the pages of the book, where the warmth of the lamplight seemed to linger. His "thank you," and the way he looked so unguarded while asleep, were clearly imprinted in her mind. A strange, warm feeling stirred within her, like a pebble thrown into a still lake, rippling outwards in her calm emotions.

A few days later, Xin Jiuwei stayed with Xin Yunzhou in his room, talking to him. Xin Yunzhou looked much better and was able to walk slowly around the room with Xin Kui's help.

"Brother, do you think this pattern is good?" Xin Jiuwei showed Xin Yunzhou a half-finished purse embroidered with lotus patterns.

Xin Yunzhou nodded with a smile: "Wei'er's craftsmanship is naturally excellent. Who is this... embroidered for?" There was a mischievous smile in his eyes.

Xin Jiuwei blushed and was about to speak when the door to the warm pavilion was pushed open, and Xiao Xun walked in. He was holding a scroll in his hand.

"Your Highness," the brother and sister said at the same time.

Xiao Xun nodded, his gaze sweeping over the unfinished purse in Xin Jiuwei's hand, without asking any further questions. He handed the scroll to Xin Yunzhou: "This is a newly drawn detailed map of the mountains and terrain around Tiebi Pass by the Ministry of Works. Take a look. Once you recover from your injuries, you will need to put in more effort to defend the northern border."

Xin Yunzhou solemnly accepted it: "Yes, Your Highness!" He immediately unrolled the scroll and began to read it carefully, his expression focused.

Xiao Xun walked to the chair by the window and sat down, habitually glancing at Xin Jiuwei. Xin Jiuwei quickly put the unfinished purse into her sewing basket and stood up somewhat awkwardly: "Your Highness, please have some tea."

She walked to the table to pour tea, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a barely noticeable tear on the cuff of Xiao Xun's black casual clothes, as if it had been torn by something sharp.

She carried the teacup over and placed it on the small table next to Xiao Xun. After hesitating for a moment, she spoke softly, "Your Highness... your sleeve seems to be torn."

Upon hearing this, Xiao Xun looked down at his sleeve and indeed saw a tear about an inch long. He frowned slightly, as if he had just noticed it.

"If you don't mind... Wei'er can help Your Highness sew it up." Xin Jiuwei's voice was very soft, with a hint of probing. She didn't know why she would offer to do so; perhaps the impulse she had when she covered him with a blanket that day hadn't yet faded.

Xiao Xun looked up at her, his deep eyes revealing no emotion. He didn't answer immediately. The warm pavilion fell silent for a moment, broken only by the soft sound of Xin Yunzhou flipping through the map.

Just as Xin Jiuwei thought he would refuse and her cheeks began to burn, Xiao Xun's deep voice rang out: "Okay."

Xin Jiuwei's heart raced instantly. She hurriedly went to the sewing basket to find silk threads and fine needles of similar color. Xiao Xun stood up, walked to the window where the light was better, and lifted up the torn cuff.

Xin Jiuwei took the needle and thread and walked over, standing beside him. Closer now, she could clearly smell his familiar, cool, pine-ink scent and feel the warmth emanating from his body. Her fingertips trembled slightly. She took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and carefully began to thread the needle.

Her movements were light and focused. The needle moved deftly across the dark fabric, striving to sew the stitches fine and even, leaving no trace. Xiao Xun looked down at her. He watched her lowered eyes, her slightly trembling eyelashes, and her slender, white fingers holding the needle, intently mending his cuff. She was very close, her hair almost brushing against his chin. A faint, elegant fragrance, uniquely hers, lingered around his nose.

Time seemed to slow down and thicken at that moment. The only sounds in the warm room were the soft rustling of needle and thread through fabric and the occasional turning of a map by Xin Yunzhou. A silent, warm, ambiguous atmosphere quietly spread between the two.

Xin Jiuwei could feel Xiao Xun's gaze fixed on the top of her head. That gaze carried a heavy weight, making her cheeks burn and her palms slightly sweaty. She forced herself to remain calm and quickened her pace. Finally, the last stitch was completed. She gently bit off the thread, took a step back, and carefully checked it.

"Alright, Your Highness," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension.

Xiao Xun raised his arm and looked at the cuff. The tear had been perfectly stitched up with fine needlework, almost invisible. He lowered his arm, his gaze falling on Xin Jiuwei's slightly flushed face, and uttered two words in a low voice: "Very good."

Xin Jiuwei breathed a sigh of relief, a faint smile appearing on her face. She put away her needlework, returned to the table, and sat down, but her heart was still beating a little fast.

Xiao Xun sat back down in his chair, picked up his now slightly cold tea, and took a sip. He glanced at Xin Yunzhou, still engrossed in the map, then his gaze swept over Xin Jiuwei's lowered profile. The seam of her cuff seemed to still hold the faint trace of her cool fingertips. He stroked the cup, something silently surging within his deep eyes. The relationship that began with a cold contract, forged in the crucible of shared blood and fire, had quietly transformed through daily companionship and these subtle touches. It was no longer a simple responsibility of being "fellow travelers," but a deeper, more complex, and more difficult-to-control emotional bond. Like vines in early spring, it had quietly twined and grown, drawing their hearts closer and closer, without either of them noticing. The road ahead might still be long, but this silent approach was unstoppable.