"The Palace Master always likes to wear blue robes." As she smoothed out the wrinkles on his clothes, the maid suddenly smiled and said, "Only the Palace Master, with her radiant and bright temperament, can wear a blue robe with such calmness."
The maid knew that many of the officials in the palace were extremely afraid and respectful of the Palace Master. She had also heard gossip about the Palace Master being "cold," "indifferent," and "as if born without a heart." But to the demon clan like them with weak bloodlines, Palace Master Shenxue was actually a good leader.
He wasn't tyrannical, nor did he vent his anger on others. Even the most momentous matters seemed insignificant to him. Since matters considered "major" by ordinary people didn't provoke an overreaction in him, they certainly didn't affect his emotions.
The Palace Master never even shouted at a servant, and certainly wouldn't have a servant dragged off for the slightest inconvenience. Whether dishes were saltier or lighter, clothes darker or lighter, or incense stronger or lighter, it didn't matter. Even if a maid accidentally noticed he preferred blue, she'd bring him a purple robe and he'd readily don it.
He is very easy to serve.
Once, during a meeting, tensions flared in the hall. The elders on either side of the hall each argued their own opinions, threatening to come to blows. A maidservant, frightened by the demonic power, trembled, nearly collapsing. The Palace Master, however, remained expressionless, showing no sign of discontent or irritation at his subordinates' chaotic quarrel. As usual, he casually instructed the maidservant to bring him a fresh pot of tea and then withdrew.
"Please continue," he said calmly. "Before I finish this pot of tea, I want to hear the results of your discussion."
He uttered the word "discuss" without any earthly tone, as if he didn't feel there was any irony in using this word in the current situation.
Later, the maid who was pardoned and retired deliberately fiddled with the clepsydra to confirm that when the palace master slowly walked out of the hall, it was exactly the same time as he usually drank a pot of tea.
"I do prefer blue." The maid quickly got an answer to this casual gossip.
It was always like this. Regardless of status, speaking to the Palace Master would most likely elicit a response. Initially, she was indeed smug about this, but she soon realized it had nothing to do with the Palace Master's personal preferences, but simply stemmed from her usual politeness. Even if someone challenged the Palace Master to her face, asked her a vicious, profane question before her death, and then, after chopping off their head, the Palace Master would still offer a response to the bloodied corpse, even if the other person no longer needed it.
The Palace Master is such a person.
However, this time, something seemed particularly different. After giving that brief reply, Palace Master Shenxue whispered, "Because the person I like..."
This time, the voice was exceptionally light and ethereal, as if only half a thought had been uttered unintentionally. The maid looked up in astonishment at the Palace Master's eyes, noticing a slight daze in her presence.
There was a hint of blue in Han Qianling's eyes, so when he was lost in thought, his eyes looked particularly deep. At this moment, his brows were relaxed, his expression was relaxed, and there seemed to be a hint of smile at the corners of his lips, and his outline was much softer than usual.
It was as if the gods had taken the initiative to step down from the platform and return to the human world.
…
When the maid beside him mentioned his preference for the color blue, Han Qianling naturally thought of Luo Jiujiang.
His love for the color blue was not without reason—in fact, almost all the things that made him feel "good" or "liked" were related to Luo Jiujiang.
He stopped for the Deep Snow Flower Forest and built the Deep Snow Palace here, because the Deep Snow tree species had been found for him by Luo Jiujiang with great difficulty; in his spare time, he would stand on the treetop and look out, trying his best to suppress the boiling hatred and malice in his heart, and then he could listen to the wind and enjoy a moment of tranquility, because the smiling sound of the wind had been the opportunity for their bond; as for the wooden Buddhist beads around his neck, which he loved more than a treasure, there was no need to mention it.
Blue became special because it was the second time he and Luo Jiujiang met after "Listening to the Wind".
Once again, it was Luo Jiujiang who took the initiative and ran over to him, holding a kite in his arms that was about the same size as him, and excitedly invited him to fly a kite together. Han Qianling was in the midst of a vicious attack at that moment, having already twirled the Buddhist beads he had received yesterday over ten times in his hands. Luo Jiujiang was right in the crosshairs.
"No." Han Qianling said simply. He quickly realized that his tone was too unkind, and suppressed his anger and added, "I don't like flying kites."
"That's fine." Luo Jiujiang was taken aback for a moment before he smiled. He casually placed the beautiful kite in his arms into Han Qianling's small, shabby house. "How about we go and rob a bird's nest? I've been eyeing a nest of seven-forked birds for a long time."
"dislike."
"You don't even want to touch the seashells?"
"bother."
"We can make a whistle together. I prepared a piece of very good bamboo a few days ago."
"I don't want to do it."
"How about catching some fish and grilling them? There's a cave not far from the seashore, a great place to hide. Tall people can't get in. I've got plenty of salt, sugar, and oil there. All I have to do is build a fire, skewer the fish, and grill them..."
"Stop talking." The surging malice repeatedly washed over Han Qianling's mind. He opened his eyes, and everything he saw was a distorted blood-red. As Luo Jiujiang described it, he couldn't help but think of the sea, the fishy odor and bloody rain that covered the sky, the fish vying for food in the crimson water, and the pairs of indifferent and lifeless eyes that watched coldly from both the open and the dark...
"Stop talking." Han Qianling repeated, "It's disgusting."
“…”
The resentment that was imposed on him rushed straight to his head and exploded in his mind like fireworks, leaving only broken ashes on the ground. Han Qianling opened his eyes, cold sweat covering his forehead. His consciousness gradually returned, and he slowly realized what he had just said.
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