Chapter 147: The Day of Three Hearts
Morning – Yuran’s Garden
The herb garden was still wet with dew when Hei Long arrived. Yuran was already there, kneeling in the soil, her sleeves tied up, the sunlight catching the tips of her hair.
"You’re early," she said without looking up.
"You’re late," Hei Long replied, kneeling beside her.
She gave him a faint glare but handed him a pair of gloves. "We’re transplanting moonleaf. It’s delicate."
They worked side by side in silence for a while. Every so often, Hei Long’s hand would brush hers as they reached for the same root, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers lingered just long enough to register warmth before retreating.
At one point, she adjusted his posture, moving behind him, her arms lightly around his shoulders as she guided his hands into the soil. "Gentle," she murmured. "You’re holding it like a sword."
He glanced back at her. "And if I am?"
"Then I’ll make you unlearn it," she said — but her lips curved.
When they finished, Yuran poured tea at a small table in the shade. "This," she said, sliding a cup toward him, "is why I wanted you here first. The others... they wouldn’t understand the quiet."
Hei Long sipped slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Then I’ll keep it between us."
Afternoon – Yexin’s Market Stroll
The spice market was a riot of sound and color. Yexin moved through it like she owned every stall, one hand hooked into Hei Long’s arm.
"They have saffron from the Southern Isles," she whispered, pulling him toward a stand. "Try it."
She bought a small pouch without haggling, handing it to him with a sly smile. "For your next meal. Unless you’d rather I cook it for you."
Hei Long tilted his head. "You cook?"
"Not often. But I’ve been told I’m... memorable when I do."
Every stall became an excuse to lean closer — to let her hair brush his cheek when she showed him a rare herb, or to press a slice of candied ginger to his lips so she could watch him taste it.
They paused at a stall selling bracelets woven from spirit silk. Yexin picked one up, pretended to examine it, then slipped it over his wrist herself. "Now you’re marked," she said softly.
He glanced down at the silk, then at her. "You think anyone will miss the message?"
"That depends on whether you wear it tonight," she replied — and her smirk told him she fully intended him to.
Evening – Qingxue’s Rematch
The training hall smelled faintly of incense. Qingxue was already in position, her hair tied high, her expression sharp.
"You’re late," she said.
"I was... delayed," Hei Long replied, stepping into the circle.
Their duel wasn’t loud. It was a dance of precision — her blade flashing, his hand deflecting, the sound of steel and breath in rhythm. She pressed him hard, and he let her, studying the way her eyes lit when she thought she had the advantage.
At one point, she swept his leg — and he caught her wrist, pulling her in close enough that their foreheads nearly touched.
"You’re distracted," he murmured.
She held his gaze. "Only because you keep doing that."
The match ended with her sword at his throat... and his hand at her waist. Neither moved.
Finally, Qingxue stepped back, lowering her blade. "Another tie."
Hei Long smiled faintly. "If you say so."
Night – The Overlap
Hei Long returned to his room expecting solitude. Instead, Yuran was there, leaving a covered dish on his desk.
"I thought you’d be hungry," she said.
Yexin appeared in the doorway, holding a small pouch. "And I thought you’d want this ground into tea before bed."
Qingxue followed, leaning against the wall. "I came to settle our score."
The three women looked at each other, the air between them thick. Hei Long simply sat, poured himself tea, and let them stand there, each one realizing they’d walked into the others’ territory.
He didn’t need to say anything. The silence was enough to make them all stay — none willing to give up the ground to another.
Hei Long sipped, hiding the satisfaction in his eyes.
Morning – The Ambush
Hei Long woke to the sound of the paper door sliding open.Yuran stepped inside, carrying a breakfast tray, her movements silent except for the soft clink of porcelain.
"I thought you’d like to start the day properly," she said, setting the tray on his bedside table.
She poured him tea, the steam curling between them. "You work better when you eat well," she added, her tone making it clear she meant only when I feed you.
Hei Long took the cup, sipping slowly, his eyes on hers. "You’re early."
"That’s the point," she replied with a small smile.
The point became clear when the second door opened.
The Interruption
Yexin strode in without knocking, hair loose over her shoulders, holding a bundle wrapped in silk. "Get up. We’re going riding."
Her gaze fell on the tray between Hei Long and Yuran. "Or... were you busy?"
Yuran’s smile didn’t falter. "He’s having breakfast."
"With me," Yexin said, unwrapping the silk to reveal a small, lacquered box. "And here I was bringing him something better."
She placed it on the table. Inside was a selection of rare candied lotus seeds. Hei Long picked one up, biting into it with deliberate slowness.
"I’ll come with you after I eat," he said.
Both women glanced at each other — the exchange silent but razor-sharp.
The Third Player
Before Hei Long could rise, Qingxue appeared in the doorway, her posture perfectly composed. She carried no food, no gifts — just her sword in one hand and a training sash in the other.
"You have a match with me," she said simply.
Hei Long nodded. "After I ride."
Her gaze flicked to Yexin, then Yuran, then back to him. "You’re letting them delay you."
"They call it breakfast," he said lightly.
"And I call it weakness," she replied.
The Unspoken Battle
It became clear to Hei Long that this wasn’t about meals, rides, or training. This was about staking claim.
Yuran lingered in the room, refilling his tea every time the cup was halfway empty. Yexin sat on the edge of his bed, plucking at the candy box, offering him another piece with her fingers. Qingxue stood near the door like a sentinel, her presence alone a challenge.
He let it happen.
He let them crowd him, each one angling for more of his time, more of his attention. And each time one pulled him in one direction, he’d give a fraction of himself before turning to the next.
Hei Long’s Countermove
When the tension was about to break, Hei Long stood.
"Today," he said, "I’ll spend the morning with Yuran. The afternoon with Yexin. The evening with Qingxue."
It wasn’t a compromise — it was an order. His tone left no space for refusal.
Yuran nodded first, though her eyes lingered on the other two.Yexin smirked, as if confident her slot would be the best.Qingxue said nothing, but her fingers tightened slightly on her sash.
Privately
As he dressed, Hei Long’s expression shifted into something no one else saw — a faint, knowing curve of his lips.
They were competing, yes. But they were also giving him exactly what he wanted: more of themselves, more of their attention, more of their hearts.
And he intended to take every moment they offered.
Morning – Yuran’s Garden Serenity
The garden was quiet except for the drip of dew from broad leaves. Yuran was waiting, kneeling in the soil, her sleeves neatly tied back. She glanced up when Hei Long entered.
"I prepared something special," she said, holding up a shallow tray. Inside were rows of moonleaf sprouts, each pulsing faintly with spiritual light.
Hei Long knelt beside her. "You’ve been cultivating them by hand?"
"Yes. And I want you to plant the last one." She handed him a small root, still warm from her palm.
They worked side by side in the early light, the silence between them more intimate than words. When she leaned over to brush soil from his hand, her touch lingered. "You should stay for tea," she murmured.
He did. They sat on the veranda, sharing cups while the garden bloomed around them, the air heavy with the scent of jasmine. Yuran never said it out loud, but her smile when he reached for the teapot told him she didn’t want the morning to end.
Afternoon – Yexin’s Market Conspiracy
The market was chaos — bright stalls, loud merchants, the smell of grilled meat and incense. Yexin had him by the arm before he’d even adjusted to the noise.
"Come on, Master," she teased. "I’ve been saving this route for you."
She pulled him from one shop to another, her laughter spilling over as she haggled like a queen and dragged him into her rhythm. She bought him a spirit-silk scarf "because it makes you look too dangerous," and fed him candied chestnuts one by one, brushing his lips with her fingers.
At a spice stall, she whispered, "Everyone’s watching us. Don’t look, just... enjoy it."
Hei Long smiled faintly, letting her think she was the one setting the pace. But when they stopped at the edge of the square, and she leaned close to adjust the scarf around his neck, he caught her wrist — just long enough for her breath to catch.
When they parted ways for the evening, she walked away with a smirk that promised she wasn’t done.
Evening – Qingxue’s Duel of Breath and Blade
The training hall was lit by paper lanterns, their glow flickering against the polished floor. Qingxue stood in the center, sword in hand, her expression as unreadable as the moon.
"You kept me waiting," she said.
"I was worth the wait," Hei Long replied, stepping into the circle.
The duel began — her strikes sharp and relentless, his parries fluid and unhurried. Every movement brought them closer, until sweat and breath mingled between them. When she swept at his legs, he caught her blade between two fingers, twisting it just enough to pull her off balance.
She fell against him, her hand gripping his sleeve. Neither moved. The sound of their breathing filled the space between their locked eyes.
Finally, she stepped back, lowering her sword. "You win," she said, though it sounded more like a challenge than surrender.
Night – The Overlap
Hei Long returned to his chambers expecting solitude. Instead, Yuran was already inside, placing a small tray of tea on his desk.
"I thought you’d need this after training," she said.
Before he could answer, Yexin appeared in the doorway, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle. "I brought something better."
And then Qingxue entered, uninvited, her sword still at her side. "You owe me a rematch."
The air thickened instantly. The three women’s eyes darted between each other, subtle barbs hidden in every glance. Hei Long, unbothered, poured himself tea and sat, letting the silence grow heavier.
He knew exactly what he was doing. And from the way they each stayed — refusing to yield their place — they knew it too.