Chapter 90: The Ice Queen’s Forgiveness

The forest was cool and quiet, a sharp contrast to the chaos Bai Yue had left behind in the village.

Hán Bīng walked ahead of her, silver hair swaying with each step, never once looking back to check if Bai Yue was following. She moved like she knew exactly where she was going, which, Bai Yue supposed, she did.

Bai Yue, meanwhile, was waddling.

There was no elegant way to say it.

“Can we… slow down… slightly?” she panted.

Hán Bīng paused. Turned. Her icy gaze dropped to Bai Yue’s belly, then back to her face.

“You’re struggling.”

“Astute observation.”

“The baby is healthy?”

“Very healthy. Extremely healthy. Possibly training to be a warrior.”

Hán Bīng’s expression flickered. She slowed her pace to match Bai Yue’s waddle.

They walked in silence for another few minutes until they reached a small clearing, a circle of moss-covered stones surrounding a natural spring so clear it looked like liquid glass.

Hán Bīng sat on the largest stone, gesturing for Bai Yue to do the same.

Bai Yue sat. Heavily. Gratefully.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The only sounds were the gentle trickle of the spring and the distant call of forest birds. Bai Yue found herself studying her mother-in-law from the corner of her eye, the proud posture, the silver hair that seemed to catch even the dimmest light, the way her presence made the air feel crisper, cleaner.

Hán Bīng’s voice cut through the quiet.

“So.”

Bai Yue jumped slightly. “So?”

“You’ve truly changed.”

Bai Yue swallowed. “I… yes. I have.”

Hán Bīng turned to look at her directly and Bai Yue felt like every cell in her body was being examined under a microscope. Those icy blue eyes missed nothing.

“I watched you,” Hán Bīng said. “Back there. With the cubs. With my son.” She paused. “With Ruì Xuě.”

Bai Yue’s hands instinctively went to her belly. “He’s a good boy. They all are.”

“He was not a good boy when you left him.” Hán Bīng’s voice was still flat, but pain flickered beneath the surface. “He was broken. Hollow. My son wrote to me, short messages, he has never been one for words, but I could read between the lines. The cub wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t play. Wouldn’t speak above a whisper.”

Bai Yue felt the familiar stab of guilt. “I know. I—”

“You don’t know.” Hán Bīng’s voice sharpened. “You don’t know what it’s like to receive those messages. To be too far away to help. To lie awake at night wondering if your grandchild will ever smile again.” She looked away, toward the spring. “I blamed you. Every night, I blamed you.”

Bai Yue said nothing. What could she say? The original Bai Yue had done those things. The guilt wasn’t entirely hers, but she inhabited this body, this life, this family. The weight of those sins pressed down on her all the same.

Hán Bīng continued, her voice softer now. “After the horror you put my son through. After the cruelty you showed my grandchild. After all of that…” She trailed off, shaking her head slowly.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” Bai Yue whispered. “I know I don’t deserve it. I just…..I want you to know that I’m not that person anymore. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure they’re happy, making sure they’re safe. That’s all I can do.”

Hán Bīng was silent for a long moment.

Then, slowly, she turned back to face Bai Yue.

“I forgive you.”

Bai Yue blinked. “What?”

“I forgive you.” Hán Bīng’s expression didn’t soften exactly, that might be physically impossible for her, but warmth bloomed in her eyes. Something almost warm. “Not because you deserve it. Not because the past doesn’t matter. But because my son cares for you. Because my grandson calls you ’Mama’ with his whole heart.”

She reached out, slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, and placed her cool hand over Bai Yue’s where it rested on her belly.

“And because you’re carrying my grandchild. My blood. My legacy.” Her thumb moved, just slightly, in a gentle circle. “The grandmothers have a saying. ’The cub chooses the mother.’ Ruì Xuě chose you. Yòu Lín chose you. Hóng Yè is choosing you, even if he would die before admitting it.” A pause. “I will not be less wise than a five-year-old snow leopard.”

Bai Yue felt tears prick at her eyes. “I don’t….I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Hán Bīng withdrew her hand and stood, brushing invisible dust from her robes. “Words are cheap. Actions matter. You’ve shown me your actions. For now, that’s enough.”

She offered Bai Yue her hand.

“Let’s go. The others will be worried. And Gū Gū will never let me hear the end of it if I keep you out too long, she’ll accuse me of trying to freeze you.”

Bai Yue took the offered hand and let Hán Bīng pull her to her feet. For a moment, they stood there, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, the air between them no longer quite so cold.

“Thank you,” Bai Yue said quietly. “For giving me a chance.”

Hán Bīng’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile Bai Yue had seen from her.

“Don’t thank me yet. We still have to survive the birth. And the naming ceremony. And whatever chaos your fox husband and my son will inevitably create while competing for the baby’s attention.”

Bai Yue laughed. “You’re not wrong.”

“I am never wrong.” Hán Bīng began walking back toward the village, and this time, she matched her pace to Bai Yue’s waddle without being asked. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

~

They were halfway back to the village when they heard it.

A voice. High-pitched. Frantic. Coming from somewhere in the trees.

“HELLO? IS ANYONE THERE? I THINK I’M LOST AGAIN!”

Bai Yue froze. “Is that—”

“Yàn Shū’s mother,” Hán Bīng said flatly. “Has to be.”

A moment later, a figure burst through the undergrowth.

She was……not what Bai Yue expected.

Where Hán Bīng was ice and majesty, this woman was warmth and chaos. She had soft brown hair pulled into a messy bun, round glasses perched on her nose, and clothes that looked like she’d been dragged through several bushes. She was, and this was the strangest part,completely, unmistakably human.

No ears. No tail. No claws.

Just a normal-looking woman in her fifties, panting and clutching a basket of what appeared to be herbs.

“Oh! People!” The woman’s face lit up. “Real people! Not cranes this time!” She rushed forward, grabbing Bai Yue’s hands. “Are you Bai Yue? You must be Bai Yue! Yàn Shū wrote about you! Well, he wrote poems about you, which is basically the same thing! I’m Wēn Jìng! His mother! I’m so sorry I’m late, I got lost, I always get lost, one time I got lost for three days and ended up in a completely different territory and accidentally brokered a peace treaty, it was very awkward—”

She stopped. Blinked at Hán Bīng.

“Oh! You must be Han Shān’s mother! The ice queen! Gū Gū told me about you!”

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