Chapter Forty-Three
The crisp jingling of jade ornaments announced the arrival of a maid dressed in red, who lifted the Brocade Curtain of Blessings and Longevity with one hand, revealing a delicate and slender young woman standing outside. In her slender hand, she held a plain silk round fan, partially obscuring her face. Her thick lashes lowered demurely, adding an air of solemnity. As she stepped over the threshold, the hem of her Amethyst Skirt rippled like water.
Ning Fei stepped forward and took her hand. "Come, meet my parents." "Ling Xueying pays her respects—Uncle!" Xueying suddenly exclaimed, nearly dropping her fan in surprise.
Ning Shuchen finally couldn't hold back his laughter. Xueying flushed and tried to hide behind Ning Fei, but he firmly pulled her forward. "What's wrong? Why are you hiding?"
Yun Moxin stepped forward with a reproachful look and swatted Ning Fei's hand away. "Can't you see? Your father must have teased her earlier." She then linked arms with Xueying. "You're Xueying, right? Don't be afraid. When these two men get together, they act like children and stir up trouble for the whole household..." Xueying stammered awkwardly, "It was Xueying's fault for being so careless..."
Ning Fei asked blankly, "What exactly happened?" Under his wife's stern gaze, Ning Shuchen reluctantly composed himself and explained, "It's nothing, really. Earlier, I ran into her in the backyard. She thought I was a guest here for the ceremony, and I assumed she was a servant from the General's residence." He couldn't help but grin again. "We chatted for a bit, and then you arrived."
"I thought Uncle was like that too, so..." Xueying mumbled. Ning Shuchen pressed curiously, "Like what?" "Like Ning Fei," Xueying blurted out. Ning Fei's eyes widened immediately. "Like me how?" Xueying shot him a look and lowered her head without another word.
"Fei, you shouldn't lose your temper so easily," Yun Moxin chided gently, cutting off Ning Fei's protests as she turned to comfort Xueying. "He's been spoiled by me since childhood, and now he’s developed this bad habit of speaking too loudly. Last time he came home, he went to a tavern with some friends. I happened to be passing by outside and could hear him shouting from the private room upstairs all the way down the street. I thought he was fighting with someone, but when I went up, it turned out he was just chatting."
"Mother—" Ning Fei rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Can't you say something nice about me?" "Oh, so now you're embarrassed?" Yun Moxin lifted her chin triumphantly. "Seems your father was right—marrying has settled you down. From now on, spend more time at home with Xueying and less time following your father's youthful example, using official business as an excuse to loiter around pleasure houses all day..."
Both Ning Shuchen and Ning Fei coughed loudly in unison. Yun Moxin quickly changed the subject. "Ah, Xueying, come see! There are so many gifts brought just for you." She began pulling Xueying toward the door. "When the relatives heard Ning Fei was getting married, they all sent packages of gifts to the house..."
The curtain fell behind them, leaving the neglected father and son staring at each other in the room. After a long pause, Ning Fei rubbed his nose and chuckled wryly. "Suddenly, I feel both Father and I have excellent taste." Ning Shuchen burst into laughter and clapped Ning Fei on the shoulder. "Naturally. After all, we're father and son."
Xia Jingshi set down his brush, wearily rubbing his temples before standing up. He pushed open the door to a brilliantly lit but eerily silent night, broken only by the footsteps of patrolling soldiers.
Not a single star dotted the sky—only an oppressive, ink-black expanse. It seemed another storm was coming.After closing the door, he returned to the desk and resumed writing furiously. As expected, within less than half the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a fierce wind arose outside, accompanied by thunder and lightning. Suddenly, the wind blew open the window, extinguishing the candles and scattering the papers on the desk.
Xia Jingshi had no choice but to set down his brush again. He gathered the scattered letters one by one, straightened them, and pressed them down with a paperweight. He then sat in a daze for a while before sighing and stepping out of the study.
The wind carried raindrops as large as beans, striking Xia Jingshi’s body. Miraculously, all the stifling heat and oppressive feelings dissipated, replaced by a wave of coolness. Leaning against the railing, he simply let the rain fall upon him.
In just two or three days, it would be Ning Fei and Xueying’s wedding, after which he would have to take Feng Xiyang to the Holy City to pay homage to the Holy Emperor. For some reason, ever since returning from Su Sha, he had felt unsettled, sometimes even suffocated by an inexplicable gloom.
At first, he had worried that something had happened to Yixiao—at least, that was what he believed until Xueying burst into his study to ask for Yixiao’s Glass Hairpin.
And now? Now it was clear that his earlier worries had been unnecessary. Though Feng Suige was impulsive and hot-tempered, the moment he returned Yixiao to his side, Feng Suige had proven himself.
He was a man with enough strength and courage to protect Yixiao, a man who could give her happiness. Yet, why did his heart still feel clogged with an asphyxiating heaviness?
A bolt of lightning flashed before his eyes, startlingly vivid. In the past, during such thunderstorms, Yixiao would always gaze eagerly at the sky. Every time lightning struck, she would let out a prolonged shout, continuing until the rolling thunder faded completely, then she would laugh heartily, hands on her hips.
If Ning Fei was nearby, he would join in her antics for fun. Weiran had once asked why they shouted like that. Yixiao, carefree as ever, had laughed and replied that such thunder was the heavens’ way of capturing demons that plagued the mortal world. But often, in their carelessness, they might mistakenly take innocent lives. So, she shouted during thunderstorms to remind the heavens that there were still people below, urging them to be more careful and thus sparing a few unjustly lost souls.
Thinking of this, Xia Jingshi couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle softly. Only Yixiao could have such peculiar ideas.
Then his thoughts turned to Feng Xiyang. It had been days since he last saw her. Deep down, he still couldn’t shake off the memory of her frenzied demand for a kiss.
That day, seeing her pale, frightened face, he had felt a pang of guilt. Once a radiant and proud daughter of heaven, her face was now etched with sorrow and melancholy. Though she asked for little, he couldn’t bring himself to deceive her.
Perhaps he should visit her. After all, he would inevitably have to attend Ning Fei’s wedding banquet with her.
Feng Xiyang leaned against the window, reaching out to catch the raindrops dripping from the eaves. Not only were her clothes damp, but her heart was also clouded with turmoil.
It felt as though there was an invisible wall around Xia Jingshi—one that seemed nonexistent until you bumped into it unexpectedly. The slightest approach always left her feeling as though she had hit her head against something unseen. Yet she couldn’t understand: even though her Father had loved her mother dearly, he had never abandoned his entire harem for her. Though her Father was a king and Xia Jingshi merely a prince, why was it that...
Was it simply because she was from Su Sha?"Xiyang," only in dreams would he call her like that, then gaze at her tenderly with those onyx-like eyes—Xiyang paused slightly, touching her lips. His lips were thin yet soft, fresh as a summer lotus. Once they touched, she couldn't restrain herself from deepening the kiss, stubbornly chasing that elegant smoothness until she finally provoked him—such a gentle man, now angered...
"Xiyang." Her entire body trembled, as if this wasn't a dream. The voice in dreams was never this clear.
"Xiyang?" Disbelieving, she turned her head little by little, suddenly feeling wronged. Large teardrops fell one after another.
It was really him.
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