"Thump, thump-thump—"

When the familiar knocking sound came from the window lattice, Shen Jintang was taking apart the hairpins in her hair.

The rhythm of two light beats followed by one heavy one was like a small hammer, gently tapping her heart a few times.

Her hand paused for a moment, and her eyes, which had suddenly lit up, were reflected in the bronze mirror before dimming again in an instant.

This was the secret code they had agreed upon beforehand. He told her, "If I ever come looking for you in the future, I will knock on the window like this."

The hairpin landed on the dressing table with a clatter.

Shen Jintang walked quickly to the window, where the moonlight cast his long, slender shadow onto the paper window, which was as thin as a cicada's wing.

She could see his slightly forward-leaning profile and even imagine his expression at that moment—those gentle eyes must be looking right at him, and a faint dimple at the corner of his mouth.

"Tangtang?" Gu Zhixing's voice came through the paper window, clear and refreshing like night dew. "I brought Xu Ji's newest product..."

She suddenly raised her hand and locked the window bolt with a click.

The area outside the window suddenly became quiet.

Moonlight streamed through the windowpane, casting their shadows on the same plane. They were so close they seemed to be able to hear each other's breath, yet they were always separated by an unbreakable layer of paper.

"I'm sleepy," Shen Jintang heard her own dry voice.

She stared intently at the silhouette on the window paper, watching his hand, which had been raised to push the window open, slowly lower.

The candlelight in front of the dressing table suddenly flickered and flared, making her eyes burn.

Gu Zhixing's fingers unconsciously traced the carved window lattice, his knuckles turning pale. "Have you been...tired these past few days?" His voice was so soft, as if afraid of disturbing something. "I saw you scolding those palace servants..."

"Hmm." She interrupted him, her skirt sweeping across the moonlight on the ground as she turned, like stirring up a still pond. "Too much trouble."

The soft rustling of clothes against each other could be heard from outside the window.

Shen Jintang had her back to the window, but she could clearly imagine what he looked like at that moment—leaning slightly closer to the window crack, his thick eyelashes casting dappled shadows in the moonlight, his thin lips pressed into a straight line.

He always had this expression when he seemed about to say something but then stopped himself.

The night breeze swept through the corridor, carrying the sweet fragrance of crabapple blossoms.

Silence spread between the two until a petal drifted in through a crack in the window and landed on her clasped hands.

"Then you... get some rest." Gu Zhixing's voice was heavy, as if soaked in night dew. "I put the pastries on the windowsill."

The footsteps faded into the distance, each step feeling like a blow to her heart.

Shen Jintang suddenly turned and rushed to the window. Through the gaps in the carvings, she saw his dark blue robe disappear around the corner of the palace wall. The moonlight stretched his shadow long, and he was still carrying the oil paper package in his hand, the golden edges of the walnut pastry faintly visible.

She reached out to open the window, but her fingertips touched the cold latch and she pulled back.

The candlelight by the bedside suddenly flickered violently, casting her shadow on the wall, twisting it into a strange shape.

With a "snap," she ripped off the apricot-colored bed curtains, but in doing so, she knocked over the gauze lamp on the table.

Darkness instantly engulfed the entire bedchamber. The bag of pastries on the windowsill rolled to the ground, and its sweet aroma filled the night.

Outside the palace walls, Gu Zhixing stood under the wild crabapple tree, his shoulders covered with petals.

He looked down at the other walnut pastry in his hand, which had already cooled down, and the oil paper wrapping still bore Xu Ji's distinctive red mark.

The silhouette I caught a glimpse of on the window paper just now, with its disheveled hair, didn't look like someone about to go to bed at all.

"My lord?" a guard in the shadows whispered, "It's past midnight."

He waved his hand, his gaze still fixed on the upturned eaves of the Jade Pagoda Palace.

Last month, he had a long talk with Shen Jintang all night long, and Shen Jintang smiled so hard that her eyes curved into crescent moons.

Now, the tree is laden with blossoms that fall on his shoulders, but no one is there to tiptoe and brush them away for him anymore.

Everything was fine before, so why did Shen Jintang suddenly become so upset?

Is it really because I'm tired?

The moonlight stretched his shadow long, casting a lonely shadow on the palace wall.

The sound of a night watchman's clapper came from afar, startling several roosting birds.

Gu Zhixing finally turned to leave, but after taking ten steps, he couldn't help but turn back.

The windows of Yutang Palace remained tightly closed, like a silent eye.

The night wind carried away his unspoken sigh.

The walnut shortbread in the oil paper package crumbled and fell to the ground with a soft rustling sound, much like the unspoken feelings between them.

The next day, early morning, at Yutang Palace.

Shen Jintang sat in front of her dressing table, her fingertips gently fiddling with a plain silver hairpin. Her slightly pale face was reflected in the bronze mirror.

The morning light was faint outside the window, and the crabapple petals were swept by the wind and fell softly onto the window frame.

A palace maid tiptoed in and whispered, "Lord Siyan, His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived and is waiting outside the palace."

Her fingertips paused, and the silver hairpin tapped lightly on the dressing table with a crisp sound.

"Just say I'm not feeling well and won't see you."

The palace maid looked troubled: "But His Highness said... he brought Xu's new walnut pastry, and the plum wine you said you wanted to try last time."

Shen Jintang lowered her eyelashes, feeling a prickling sensation in her chest, as if she had been gently pierced by fine needles.

"...Let him go back."

The palace maid hesitated, then bowed her head and left.

Outside the window, Gu Zhixing stood tall and elegant, his dark blue brocade robe accentuating his broad shoulders and long legs. He was indeed carrying two packets of pastries wrapped in oil paper.

When he saw the palace maid come out, his eyes lit up slightly, but after hearing the reply, the light in his eyes dimmed little by little.

He paused for a moment, then handed the items to the palace maid: "Tell her I will come again tomorrow."

For three consecutive days, Gu Zhixing came every day.

He found all sorts of excuses—today he brought freshly picked crabapple blossoms, tomorrow he sent rare ancient books, and the day after he personally brewed a calming herbal soup.

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