Xue Huai devoted his life to Yun Cuo— Running away from home for him, wielding a blade for him, dying on the battlefield for him, only to be branded “incompetent” in the end. After death, his ashes were kept by Yun Cuo’s bedside, occasionally tended to. Upon hearing this, Xue Huai was so furious he became a lingering ghost, ready to haunt Yun Cuo’s bedchamber. Yet what he saw was the cold, arrogant Emperor trembling and sobbing over his ashes. Before he could make sense of it, he suddenly found himself reborn. He thought: *Seems a bit tragic. This life, I’ll stay far away from him.* The Xue family’s cherished and obedient youngest son changed overnight—obeying his family’s wishes, he fled to a distant land to cultivate. But on that early spring day of training, the very person he sought to avoid suddenly cornered him under a pear tree: “They say you excel in studies. Could you help me with my master’s assignments?” The sharp-edged youth smiled at him—awkward, earnest, and trying too hard. * Will it snow tonight, or will it not? Of idle dreams, yet none of you.*