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“Then did you at least tell Ping'an the Khagan is only eleven this year?” Xue Ning asked.
“Of course I did,” Li Yuan replied.
Xue Ning laughed, and the tiny crow’s-feet at her eyes unfurled. Watching her son get thrashed didn’t make her sad or angry. If anything, it cheered her up.
Li Yuan took the hint, squeezed her hand, and said softly, “I know you’re still worried about Ping'an. Don’t be. I’ll train him well.”
“You should mind your own business. The boy’s over 30 years old now. What more is there to teach him?” Xue Ning gently smiled as she leaned lightly against the man’s shoulder.
By now, the palanquin was already being escorted by direwolf riders, who guided the group deeper into the blizzard. Behind them stretched a column that kept growing longer.
Little by little, everyone crossed the so-called Evernight Line and vanished into the everlasting night of wind and snow.
“It’s dark now.” Xue Ning murmured as she looked outside. Here, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face; her gaze couldn’t even make out the carriage’s own window. Only touch and hearing still worked.
Icy snow tangled through...
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