Chapter Thirty-Six
Glistening droplets of blood splashed into his eyes, instantly veiling his vision in a layer of red. Xia Jingshi instinctively raised a hand to rub them, only to find the more he rubbed, the blurrier his sight became. The crimson liquid trickled down his cheeks, pausing briefly along his jawline before dripping onto his snow-white brocade robe, blooming like red plum blossoms in the snow—one after another, hauntingly beautiful and desolate.
The Empress had left at some point unnoticed. Xia Jingshi tossed aside the dagger and walked out calmly. A gentle breeze brushed against the hem of his robe, carrying with it fluttering petals of deep red—scattered fragments of souls that had withered away. What kind of lives had they lived? What kind of people had they seen? Why had they been in such a hurry to die…
Sunlight broke through the thick clouds, transforming into that bloodstained dagger, its sharp edge thrusting straight toward him. His heart was already pierced and poisoned—would adding this dagger finally bury everything at once?
He closed his eyes.
In less than a month, the entire Imperial City—no, the whole world—knew that Brocade’s Imperial Son, Xia Jingshi, had announced his withdrawal from the succession struggle. People sensed that something had happened to him, something that had changed him, like a single dark blue thread woven into black fabric—subtle, yet undeniably present.
The pain of betrayal and deceit from Raoran had been so bone-deep, the sorrow so vivid. From that moment on, he had hidden his heart away, cloaking it in thick layers of indifference, believing that if he never let himself feel, he would never suffer such agony again. He had even convinced himself that, true to his name, he could remain as still and unyielding as a rock. Yet, unwittingly, a hammer named Fu Yixiao had struck cracks into him, nearly exposing the long-rotted, maggot-infested corpse within.
At the same time, the venomous fangs embedded deep in his heart stirred restlessly, coursing through his veins.
"The most enduring form of love is no love at all."
"Love is both a bond and a shackle."
"In life, once you’ve been moved by love or swayed by desire, you already have a flaw. So, you are no longer perfect."
Xia Jingshi smiled bitterly. A flaw? Imperfect? Fate had left him no room for happiness at all—how could he bring happiness to others when he himself was so wretched?
Yet, his love for Yixiao had never diminished, not even for a single day.
As long as it wasn’t her, it didn’t matter who became his princess consort.
The sky was still dark when Fu Yixiao was roused by her maids to dress and prepare. Half-asleep, she let them fuss over her until she suddenly sensed an unusual gaze. Her eyes flew open to find Feng Suige crouching inelegantly beside her, staring intently. Startled by her abrupt awakening, he recoiled slightly. "What?"
"What are you doing?" Yixiao mumbled back, closing her eyes again but accurately swatting away the maid’s hand as it reached to apply makeup to her face. Feng Suige couldn’t help but laugh. "That’s enough. You may leave."
Still groggy, Yixiao echoed the maids’ acknowledgment and sat for a moment longer before suddenly leaping up. "That’s enough?" Feng Suige nodded with a grin, and her drowsiness vanished instantly. She gritted her teeth. "Then why did you have them wake me up so early?!"
"Come," he said, offering his hand. "I’ll take you to the morning market."The morning air carried a sweet fragrance, and the breeze was damp and cool after the recent rain. Feng Suige led her along the muddy streets as the city still slumbered, peaceful and serene.
"It's been so long since I've felt this relaxed," Yixiao beamed, her joy evident.
Feng Suige guided her down a winding street, soon arriving at the morning market set up near the northern gate. Under the dim light spilling from the shops along the road, small vendors bustled about their newly set-up stalls. Yixiao glanced around eagerly as they walked until she couldn’t resist asking, "Are we here to eat?"
Feng Suige raised a brow. "Of course. Unless you’d rather sneak into the kitchen to steal food?"
Before he could finish, Yixiao had already slipped from his grasp and dashed toward a roadside stall. Feng Suige stood frozen for a moment, mouth half-open, before scowling and following after her.
To Feng Suige, the tea eggs tasted bland—barely steeped long enough to absorb any flavor—and the crispy fried fish, though fragrant, were unremarkable. But Yixiao devoured the tea eggs and clutched a skewer of fish while still eyeing the pot of simmering corn. Amused, he pulled her away. "Don’t fill up at just one stall. There’s more ahead."
By the time the sun had fully risen, Feng Suige’s face had turned slightly green. He had never known Yixiao could eat so much—she hadn’t stopped from start to finish, sampling nearly everything from stall to stall while he trailed behind, paying for it all.
When Fu Yixiao darted toward yet another vendor, his last shred of patience finally snapped. His expression darkened as he prepared to drag her away by force.
Pushing through the slightly crowded market, Feng Suige reached Fu Yixiao’s side—only to find her staring at a humble stall selling jade ornaments.
It was a white jade magnolia pendant. Yixiao’s fingers lightly traced the cold, smooth petals.
Just like the one that had shattered…
The stall owner, an elderly woman, smiled gently. "Magnolias symbolize wealth and good fortune. You have excellent taste, miss." Yixiao hesitated for a moment before suddenly looking up at Feng Suige.
His heart clenched. The Fu Yixiao he knew never wore such an expression—one of hesitant pleading, brimming with fragile hope. He heard her whisper, "Can I have this? If it’s not too expensive…"
The pain in his chest was so sharp it choked him. Perhaps sensing his odd reaction, the light in Yixiao’s eyes dimmed. She pressed her lips together and turned back to the old woman with a smile. "I was just looking—"
"No," Feng Suige managed, his voice strained as he hastily pulled out all the silver he had and pressed it into the woman’s hands. "Is this enough?"
Both Yixiao and the old woman stared at him in stunned silence. His face flushed, and he frantically patted himself down before, in desperation, yanking the jade buckle from his belt and thrusting it toward the woman. "Will this cover it?"
When the old woman only looked more bewildered, sweat beaded on Feng Suige’s forehead. Before he could speak again, Yixiao gently tugged his sleeve. "It’s too much," she said softly. The sunlight caught the glimmer in her eyes, though her lips curved in a smile. "Far too much."Feng Suige's gaze remained fixed on her face. Clumsily, he used his sleeve to wipe away her overflowing tears and stammered an explanation, "Don't cry. I was just stunned earlier, not unwilling to give it to you..."
Nearby, the whispers and laughter of onlookers reached them. Yixiao abruptly stepped back as if waking from a dream, and Feng Suige awkwardly withdrew his hand. The old woman, smiling warmly, held out the silver coins along with the pendant and placed them in Feng Suige's palm. "Take this pendant as a gift for the two of you. Quickly put it on your wife and cheer her up," she said. Someone nearby chimed in, "Remember to always cherish your wife like this," prompting a wave of good-natured laughter from the crowd.
Yixiao's face flushed red, and she stood frozen in embarrassment. Feng Suige picked up the jade pendant from the old woman's hand but pushed the silver coins back toward her. With a gentle smile, he said, "Auntie, your kindness is truly hard to refuse, but today is my wife's birthday, and this pendant is meant as her gift. So please, keep the money."
After several rounds of polite refusal, the old woman finally accepted the equivalent value of the pendant and returned the remaining coins to Feng Suige. The crowd gradually dispersed. Feng Suige stuffed the coins and the jade button haphazardly into his robe, then held up the pendant with a grin. "Come, let your husband put this on for you..."
Yixiao's smile suddenly froze. A moment later, Feng Suige's expression turned even more dismayed than hers.
And so, the entire market heard Feng Suige's furious roar: "How am I supposed to put this on you if you don’t even have pierced ears?!"
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