Yilan looked at him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of wonder and a deep, aching vulnerability. The poem was simple, but the way he said her name, like a sacred vow, made her feel more seen than she had in decades.

"You truly are a silver-tongued devil," she whispered, her voice thick with a vulnerability she couldn’t quite mask. "I don’t think any woman could stand a chance if you spoke to them with such... intent."

"I don’t care about ’any’ woman," Shen Yu replied, his hazel-colored eyes locking onto hers with a weight that made her pulse flutter. "My words, like my heart, only have one destination. The woman riding beside me."

Yilan felt the heat rising to her cheeks again, but she couldn’t resist a playful, slightly jealous jab. "Oh? And what about those other women of yours, Yu’er?"

"Other women, Yilan?" he asked, his scholarly mask twisting into a devastatingly knowing smirk. "I’m not sure I follow."

"You know exactly who! Those women... that day—" She caught herself too late, the words slipping out in a moment of unguarded honesty. She clamped her mouth shut, but the damage was done.

"Umm... nothing. Forget I said anything," she muttered, looking away.

"Hahahaha!" Shen Yu’s laughter rang out through the mountain pass, rich and triumphant. "Oh... so you were the one lurking in the shadows, Yilan? I felt a presence, but I assumed it was just a mischievous cat. I had no idea it was my dignified Aunt~"

The way he drawled the word Aunt made it sound like a filthy endearment.

"I was not! I didn’t see anything!" she protested, her face turning a violent shade of scarlet. "I certainly didn’t see them kneeling around—"

She cut herself off, her eyes widening as she realized she was leaking her own memories.

"Kneeling around what, Yilan?" Shen Yu leaned over in his saddle, bringing his horse so close that their knees brushed. His voice dropped to a sultry, dangerous whisper. "Tell me... did you like what you saw?"

The mental image of his monstrous, heavy length, the sight that had haunted her dreams since that night, flashed vividly in her mind. Her breath hitched, and she felt a wave of heat pool in her lower abdomen.

"Stop it, Yu’er! You’re being... impossible!" she cried, though there was no real bite in her voice.

Shen Yu only laughed harder, continuing to tease her with playful innuendos that kept her face flushed and her heart racing for the rest of the descent.

An hour later, as they rounded a final bend in the mountain trail, a picturesque city came into view. It was smaller and more vibrant than Thousand Waves City, nestled in a valley filled with pink-hued trees.

"Peach Blossom City?" Yilan asked, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she regained some of her composure. "Why have we come here, Yu’er?"

"I heard that today is the Festival of the Nameless Lover," he replied, slowing his horse to a gentle walk. He looked at her, his expression softening into something genuinely tender.

"A day where people cast aside their titles to give each other new names, names of affection. I couldn’t pass up the chance to bring my first love here on our very first date."

As they approached the gates of Peach Blossom City, the air itself seemed to change, growing heavy with the sweet, intoxicating scent of crushed petals and sandalwood incense. Unlike the rigid, martial atmosphere of Thousand Waves City, this place breathed with a vibrant, chaotic joy.

The city lived up to its name. Thousands of peach trees were in full bloom, their pale pink blossoms drifting through the air like organic snow, carpeting the cobblestone streets in a soft, floral rug.

Every storefront was draped in crimson silk streamers, and paper lanterns in the shape of blooming flowers hung from every eave, swaying gently in the mountain breeze.

Musicians sat on street corners playing lively tunes on lutes and flutes, while merchants called out, selling "Lover’s Sweets" and intricately carved peach-wood hairpins. People moved in pairs, laughing and whispering secrets that were meant only for two.

"It’s... it’s beautiful," Yilan whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the sheer color of it all. "I haven’t seen the city like this in years. The festival is even more lively than the records describe."

Shen Yu dismounted and reached up to help her down. His hands lingered on her waist for a second longer than necessary, steadying her as her feet touched the petal-strewn ground. He didn’t pull away immediately, leaning in close so his voice wouldn’t be lost in the crowd’s roar.

"That’s because today, no one is a Matriarch or a Young Master," he murmured. "Today, everyone is just a soul looking for its half."

They walked through the bustling main thoroughfare, their shoulders brushing frequently in the press of the crowd. Yilan felt a strange sense of liberation, she felt she could finally breathe without the weight of responsibilities pressing on her chest.

"Yu’er," she said, looking up at a giant statue in the center of the plaza, a figure of a man and a woman reaching for each other, but their faces were left smooth and featureless.

"Why is it called the Festival of the Nameless Lover? Surely a legend this grand must have names attached to it."

Shen Yu led her toward a quiet stone bench beneath a sprawling peach tree, away from the main noise of the flutes. He bought a small pouch of candied petals from a passing girl and offered one to Yilan before settling beside her.

"The legend says that long ago, during the Era of Great Sects, there was a daughter of an Ancient Clan," Shen Yu began, his hazel eyes reflecting the lantern’s glow.

"She was betrothed to a powerful warlord to seal a treaty, but her heart belonged to a wandering scholar who had no name, no status, and nothing to his credit but his love for her."

Yilan listened intently, her tea-colored eyes fixed on him.

"They knew the world would never allow them to be together. The laws of the clans were absolute, and the punishment for their ’sin’ was death," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, melodic cadence.

"So, they met in secret, under this very grove. They decided that if the world gave them titles that kept them apart, they would simply cast those titles away. For one night, they threw their name-plaques into the river and became ’Nameless.’ They weren’t a Lady or a Scholar; they were just two lovers."

"And what happened to them?" Yilan asked softly.