Chapter 3: The Prince's Algorithm (A Compatibility Test)
The new morning arrived wrapped in shades of beautiful silver and sharp, delicate frost. The expansive courtyard outside Lin Xue's opulent chambers gleamed as if every path and railing had been lightly dusted with fine powdered glass.
Each breath of air was visible, condensing in a tiny cloud, and every sound—the distant shuffle of a servant, the faint chime of a bell—was unnervingly crisp in the cold air.
The palace was definitely awake, but Lin Xue wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
She had spent a fitful night replaying every confusing, stressful moment: the wild lightning flare, the pendant's constant thrum, and, most frequently, Prince Jinhai's unreadable, intensely focused stare.
Every time she thought about his voice—low, steady, and maddeningly composed—she found herself clenching her teeth in a mixture of annoyance and… something she wasn't ready to name.
"Cold prince, even colder temper," she muttered, wrestling with the layers of blankets and pulling them over her head like a protective duvet fort.
"Maybe this whole dynasty should run on his personality.
It's got infinite chill power and never overheats."
Unfortunately, the heavy, ornate door slid silently open before she could successfully hide.
A young maid, looking even more hesitant than usual, offered a low, quick bow.
"My lady, His Highness requests your immediate presence in the northern courtyard."
"Already?" Lin Xue groaned, dropping the blanket.
"Does he even bother with sleep, or does he just automatically recharge his batteries under the moonlight?"
The maid paused, blinking, clearly analyzing whether that was a joke that warranted a horrified gasp or a serious question about palace protocol.
Lin Xue sighed, giving up on the nuance. "Fine, fine.
Tell His Highness that his personal lightning experiment will arrive shortly.
Tell him to prep the circuits."
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The northern courtyard truly was a masterpiece of precise symmetry and chilling beauty.
It featured white stone paths, perfectly aligned rows of dark plum trees, and a central fountain that glittered with thick, undisturbed frost.
Prince Jinhai stood at the heart of it, his robes a subtle gradient of pale blue and silver that seemed to perfectly mimic the morning frost.
The sunlight hit the meticulous embroidery at his cuffs and made it shimmer, like frost caught mid-dance.
Lin Xue arrived in a slightly rushed, undignified shuffle, her newly long hair only partially tamed, her expression openly defiant.
"You are late," he stated flatly, not bothering to look at her as she approached.
"I prefer to call it 'consistent,'" she shot back, slowing her pace to a deliberately slow walk. "Consistently ten minutes off schedule. That's a skill, Your Highness."
A tiny, almost imperceptible flicker of amusement—so quick she thought she must have imagined it—passed over his stone-cold face.
"You call it skill.
I call it indiscipline."
"Same thing, different branding," she concluded brightly.
He didn't take the bait this time.
Instead, he gestured to a small, glowing circle carved onto the cold ground—the familiar etched runes pulsing with faint light. "This is the Synchronization Array.
It is designed to read and measure energy signatures.
You will sit in the center."
"Will it explode this time?"
"That, Lady Lin, depends entirely on you."
"Ah. So, probably, yes."
He chose to ignore her entirely and stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding, steady, and cool, like standing beside a still waterfall in the dead of winter.
"When you focus your energy, try not to force the flow.
Let the qi move through you, naturally."
Lin Xue obediently sat cross-legged in the center of the array.
The jade pendant around her neck warmed instantly, pulsing softly, its glow immediately syncing with the blue light emanating from the runes beneath her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, centering breath.
The familiar hum of power rose around her, gentle at first—until her thoughts inevitably wandered.
She thought about how impossibly strange it was to be here—an unapologetic outsider in ridiculous silk robes, trapped in a world ruled by fussy etiquette and spiritual energy.
She thought about the way Jinhai's sharp, intelligent gaze always seemed to see too much, making her feel utterly transparent. And then she felt it—a powerful shift in the energy around her.
The stored qi surged, wild and alive.
The air around her sparked and crackled with bright silver arcs.
The array flared violently, the runes beneath her spinning faster and faster.
"Stop!" Jinhai's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the haze of energy, but it was far too late.
A blinding wave of crystalline frost burst outward, immediately followed by a powerful bolt of lightning that shot straight up into the pale sky.
When the dizzying light finally faded, Lin Xue was lying flat on the cold ground, her long hair floating slightly with residual static electricity.
"Ow," she groaned dramatically.
"Did the heavens just tase me, Your Highness?"
Jinhai exhaled slowly, a soft cloud of vapor in the cold air, and knelt beside her immediately.
"You are not hurt."
"Define 'hurt.''
My entire nervous system is currently buzzing like Ga cheap vibrator."
He extended a steady, cool hand, and she reluctantly took it, allowing him to pull her back to her feet.
His fingers were cool and firm against her skin—a calm, grounding presence that immediately helped the world steady.
"You are not yet accustomed to channeling divine qi," he explained, his tone serious. "Your imported energy reacts instinctively to control."
"It reacts judgmentally," she muttered, brushing snow dust from the silk robes. "Every time I try to touch something spiritual, it automatically turns into an unscheduled fireworks display."
He almost smiled again, a definite, detectable twitch at the corner of his perfect mouth.
"Perhaps the heavens enjoy your… flair."
She blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Wait a minute.
Did Prince Han Jinhai just make a genuine joke?"
His expression immediately froze back into its default setting of cold marble.
"No."
"Oh, you definitely did.
Don't lie to the Guardian Candidate."
"Focus, Lady Lin."
He turned away quickly, but she caught the very faintest twitch of his mouth, confirming her suspicion.
The Frost Prince had a hidden sense of humor.
By midday, the frost-damaged array had been painstakingly rebuilt, and Lin Xue was back in the center of the circle.
This time, Jinhai stood directly opposite her, his hand raised in a precise, careful gesture.
"This time," he instructed, his voice low and serious, "we will attempt joint resonance. Your pendant, the Azure Protocol, connects to divine lightning.
My personal cultivation centers on frost. They are opposite elements—yet, theoretically, they balance each other perfectly."
"Teamwork exercise.
Got it.
Synergy achieved."
"Do not—"
"—say anything flippant? Yes, I know.
Already too late," she finished for him with a grin.
He sighed, a deep, weary sound.
"Just breathe with me."
She did.
Slowly, carefully, mirroring his deep, calm breaths.
The energy flowed again—not clashing, but cooperating.
The surging lightning met the pure frost, the intense cold merging with the electric current.
The pendant glowed brighter than ever before, and for a beautiful, brief moment, everything aligned.
She could feel him—his energy was disciplined, calm, and incredibly precise, moving in a perfect, synchronized rhythm with hers.
It wasn't invasive or uncomfortable; it was… harmonizing.
Like two instruments playing notes in the same perfect song.
Her pulse quickened, suddenly aware of his closeness.
The shared power felt intimate, almost frighteningly so.
Then, the test changed again.
A soft, clear chime echoed from the jade pendant.
The air above them shimmered violently, and a translucent, glowing projection appeared—lines of brilliant light forming a complex, ancient geometric diagram above their heads.
"Whoa, what is that?" Lin Xue whispered, mesmerized.
Jinhai stared upward, his eyes widening slightly—the most expression she had ever seen from him.
"An Algorithmic Array," he breathed out.
"It's mapping our resonance… a diagram of our energy connection."
She squinted up at the complex lines of light.
"You mean it's making a giant chart of our compatibility? Wow, no pressure there."
He didn't answer.
His gaze was fixed on the shifting pattern, thoughtful and faintly troubled.
"This specific formation hasn't appeared since the First Immortal War.
It is said to measure the divine harmony between two souls."
"Oh," Lin Xue said softly, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
"So… the official couple's edition test?"
"Lin Xue."
"Right, sorry.
Serious, ancient moment.
Got it."
The powerful diagram pulsed twice more before gently fading away.
The pendant dimmed back to a gentle warmth.
Silence, thick and powerful, filled the courtyard.
Jinhai finally spoke, his voice carefully controlled.
"Your energy recognized mine.
That should be fundamentally impossible."
"Impossible is kind of my professional specialty now, Your Highness."
He folded his hands behind his back, turning slightly toward the still, frozen plum tree nearby. "
If this diagram is true… then your sudden presence here is not merely coincidence. You may be tied to the Imperial Seal itself."
"The Seal? As in, the giant, glowy, holy thing everyone bows to?"
His brow furrowed again.
"You have a remarkably unusual way of describing the sacred relics of our ancestors."
"I'm a remarkably unusual person."
"Yes," he said, quieter this time.
"You are."
Something in the soft sincerity of his voice made her heart trip over itself.
She quickly tried to play it off, brushing non-existent dust from her robes.
"So what's the next step? More tests? Maybe less unscheduled electrocution this time?"
"We will continue tomorrow.
You require rest."
"Rest sounds wonderful.
Especially if it includes a palace maid sneaking me some good snacks."
She turned to walk away, but his voice, quieter than before, stopped her.
"Lin Xue."
She looked back at him, meeting his intense gaze.
He hesitated for a long moment, then said softly, "When your energy flared earlier—before the array appeared—I saw a symbol. A brief, silver flash.
The mark of the Azure Dragon."
"The what-now?"
"It is the emblem of divine guardianship.
The protector's sigil.
The heavens chose it for a reason."
"So… superhero branding?"
His lips almost twitched again, a small victory for her.
"If you wish to call it that, Lady Lin."
She tilted her head, suddenly thoughtful. "And you think it chose me? A coder who can barely make toast?"
"I don't know why the heavens choose anyone," he admitted, his face grave.
"But the heavens rarely make errors."
She grinned, a flash of her old, confident self returning.
"Well, Your Highness.
You've clearly never met me."
Then she left, her bright, confident laughter echoing through the silent, frost-covered garden.
It was a cheerful, defiant sound in the cold, ancient palace.
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That night, the massive palace was deeply, profoundly quiet.
Lin Xue sat by her window, tracing the faint glow of her pendant with her thumb as the moonlight spilled across her desk.
She whispered into the empty air.
"So, ancient, magical jewelry," she questioned the jade.
"Care to explain why I'm suddenly glowing like a celestial Wi-Fi router on maximum power?"
The pendant pulsed once—slow and rhythmic, like a calming heartbeat.
And somewhere, far across the city, muffled by the clouds, a sound rolled like far-off thunder.
It was the faint, powerful echo of a dragon's roar.
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Prince Han Jinhai stood alone on a high, remote balcony, his gaze fixed on the faint, distant lightning that threaded across the horizon.
His fingers absently brushed the faint, almost invisible burn mark on his wrist—a mark left from the brief, perfect connection with Lin Xue's powerful energy.
For a man trained since birth to control every breath, every thought, and every flicker of internal feeling—the new sensation of that shared harmony was… profoundly disconcerting.
He closed his eyes against the cold wind and whispered, a question meant only for the silence, "Foreign light… what, precisely, are you?"
The clouds offered no answer, only a low, persistent rumble of distant thunder in reply.