Fight For Love

Wei Yun spent the night in a cold war with himself and ended up making himself sick.

By morning, he was sneezing nonstop. When Chu Yu saw him, she couldn’t help but find it strange—Wei Yun had always been strong and healthy, so how had he suddenly fallen ill?

However, everyone was currently discussing the plan to attack Qing Province, so Chu Yu didn’t have a chance to ask him. Thus, the entire group watched as Wei Yun spoke, punctuating his words with intermittent sneezes.

"Zhao Yue sent Liu Rong a message, offering to lend him troops to attack Shi Hu. Liu Rong believed him and has already mobilized his forces. Should we just ignore this?"

Qin Shiyue pointed at a location on the map, reporting the intelligence he had gathered and seeking Wei Yun’s opinion.

It had been less than a month since the uprisings began across the land. Zhao Yue hadn’t made his move yet, and on the surface, everything appeared stable—just as Gu Chusheng had predicted, the factions were already tearing into each other.

Zhao Yue was an expert at stirring trouble, inciting conflicts here and promising grain there. Many who had only intended to take advantage of the chaos to enrich themselves had already started fighting. Small fish devoured shrimp, and if a few heroes emerged to lead them, they could quickly grow into formidable forces—forces that would later become Wei Yun’s headaches. That was why Qin Shiyue had asked, wanting to know Wei Yun’s current thoughts.

But Wei Yun merely waved his hand, his gaze fixed on Qing Province. "Qing Province and Bai Province currently share ten border cities. Six of them are situated in mountainous terrain. Qingjiu and Yangsu are two cities that are easy to attack but hard to defend. However, Yao Jue has already stationed heavy troops there. That leaves us with Yuncheng and Huicheng to choose between. Which do you all think is the better target?"

The group pondered for a moment before Chu Yu raised her hand and pointed at Huicheng. "Let’s attack Huicheng."

Wei Yun glanced up at her, and Chu Yu continued, "Huicheng lies upstream of the Baitou River, Qing Province’s primary waterway. Taking Huicheng would bring significant advantages."

Hearing her reasoning, Tao Quan nodded. "This old man agrees with the Madam’s suggestion."

Wei Yun frowned, about to say something, but then he remembered the medicinal herbs Chu Yu had been stockpiling lately and understood her intentions.

Entering Qing Province through Huicheng, the next city would be Yuancheng. Before long, an earthquake would originate from Yuancheng and spread all the way to Luozhou. According to Gu Chusheng’s predictions, the disaster would be severe. Chu Yu’s choice of Huicheng was likely motivated by considerations for disaster relief efforts.

Truthfully, Huicheng was harder to attack than Yuncheng. But now that he grasped Chu Yu’s reasoning, Wei Yun didn’t argue and finalized the decision.

Later, as the two of them walked back to Wei Manor together, Chu Yu suddenly stopped in the corridor. Wei Yun was puzzled—what was she doing?—until she reached up and pressed her hand against his forehead. Smiling, she asked, "Did I steal the blankets last night and make you catch a cold?"

At her question, Wei Yun recalled his behavior the night before and felt a little embarrassed. He lowered his voice. "No… I’ve just been busy lately and haven’t rested well."

Chu Yu sighed and took his hand, her voice laced with concern. "You’ve been working too hard."

Wei Yun couldn’t bring himself to look at her, his gaze drifting away. In the end, he decided this whole mess was Yan Yunlang’s fault.

If not for him, why would Wei Yun have gotten angry at Chu Yu and spent the whole night in a cold war?

Though he silently cursed Yan Yunlang in his heart, his expression remained unchanged. Instead, he turned back to Chu Yu and said, "I know you’re worried about the earthquake, but when the time comes, I’ll handle it. You mustn’t go."

"Why?"Chu Yu turned back with a smile, but Wei Yun looked uneasy as he said, "After all, it's a natural disaster. I'm afraid in my heart."

"I'm not afraid of competing with others for lives, but competing with the heavens..." Wei Yun gave a bitter smile. "That still frightens me."

Chu Yu was momentarily stunned, then inexplicably felt a little embarrassed. She turned her head away and murmured, "How could anything happen to me?"

After the two had eaten at Wei Manor, Wei Yun went to discuss expedition arrangements with Qin Shiyue. Chu Yu sat alone in her room, taking stock of the supplies prepared for the earthquake. Before long, she heard the sound of a flute drifting in from outside. She paused—the melody was tender and lingering, clearly some young master trying to woo a maiden. After listening for a while and realizing the music was right outside, she couldn't help but step out. There, she saw a young man perched on a tree branch, clad in flowing purple robes, playing a bamboo flute.

The moonlight was bright, illuminating the exceptionally handsome youth beneath it. Chu Yu leaned against the doorway, listening to his playing.

Though he knew she had come, he didn't glance back, continuing to play. Suddenly, the melody shifted, carrying a fierce, martial tone. In that instant, Chu Yu was involuntarily reminded of her younger days. Unable to hold back a smile, she instructed Changyue to prepare wine in the courtyard and called out, "Young Master Yan must be weary from playing. A humble cup of wine as thanks."

The flute didn't stop until the piece was fully played. The young man then leaped gracefully from the tree into the courtyard, seating himself without ceremony. After downing the wine in one gulp, he looked up with a grin. "Fine wine."

"Peach Blossom Smile, aged eighteen years."

Chu Yu remained on the veranda, arms crossed. "A fitting drink for someone as dashing as Young Master Yan."

"Faces fade, unknown where they've gone, yet peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze." Yan Yunlang sighed. "Had I known this was Peach Blossom Smile, I wouldn't have drunk it."

Then he raised his head, smiling at Chu Yu. "If the lady finds this one's flute playing passable, the plum blossoms in the garden are at their peak tomorrow. Might the lady grace me with her company?"

"The music is lovely," Chu Yu nodded, then added frankly, "But my heart belongs to another."

Yan Yunlang blinked in surprise as Chu Yu descended from the veranda and sat across from him. Pouring herself a cup, she said candidly, "Young Master Yan is a man of charm. I toast to you. We can be good friends, but nothing more, I'm afraid."

Hearing this, Yan Yunlang chuckled softly and clinked his cup with hers. "Romance should be joyous. My admiration for the lady is my own pleasure—no need for distress. This cup, I drink to you."

After finishing the wine, he vaulted back into the tree and stood on a branch, declaring brightly, "The lady has honored me with three cups. Allow me to play one more tune."

Chu Yu didn't know whether to laugh or cry as Yan Yunlang began a tender, love-filled melody.

Just then, Wei Yun returned home. The moment he entered, the amorous flute music reached his ears. Frowning, he muttered, "Who's playing such decadent music in the manor at this hour?"

As he walked along the corridor, he overheard a maid whisper, "Though Young Master Yan isn't as handsome as His Highness, he's truly a romantic! If I were the lady, I'd accept him at once!"Hearing this, Wei Yun paused in his steps. For some reason, he stopped where he was and eavesdropped on the two maids' conversation. The other one said, "Do you think the lady is like you? Someone as composed as her would naturally want to observe and consider things carefully."

"Observation is one thing," the maid who spoke first replied, "but with Young Master Yan pursuing her like this, what woman wouldn't be moved?"

Wei Yun couldn't bear to listen any longer, yet he felt it beneath him to scold two maids. So he turned around and took a different path. Halfway there, he turned to Wei Qiu and said, "Take some men and throw him out for me. If he comes again tomorrow, beat him up every time you see him."

Wei Qiu acknowledged the order, and soon after, the sound of the flute ceased.

With the flute gone, Wei Yun finally felt more at ease. He returned to his own quarters but quietly made his way to Chu Yu's courtyard. There, he saw Chu Yu sitting alone in the garden, toying with a wine cup. Another cup sat opposite her, half-filled with wine—clearly, someone had been drinking with her just moments ago.

Wei Yun wasn’t sure how to be angry or what exactly to be angry about. Seeing no one else around, he walked up to Chu Yu and, after struggling for a while, finally said, "I can play the qin."

Chu Yu blinked in surprise and looked up at him, puzzled. "What?"

"If you like such things, I can play the qin for you," Wei Yun said in a low voice, somewhat sheepishly. "If he comes again, just send him away."

"Was it your men who chased Yan Yunlang away just now?" Chu Yu caught on. She beckoned him over, and Wei Yun sat down beside her without a word.

Chu Yu took his hand and gently rubbed it. His hands bore many scars and calluses, starkly different from those of the noble young masters in Hua Jing. It was hard to imagine such hands belonging to a man of such refined elegance, and even harder to picture them plucking the strings of a qin or blending incense—such refined pursuits.

Yet Wei Yun was, after all, born into a prestigious family. Though he had disliked everything but martial arts in his youth, he had still been taught the Six Arts to some extent. Back then, Wei Jun, as the heir, had held himself to high standards and had been even stricter with his younger brother, forcing him to learn even if it meant resorting to the rod. But Wei Yun had been too mischievous in his youth, disdaining all the pastimes of noble young men—especially poetry and writing—to the point where he’d rather endure Wei Jun’s beatings than study them.

Still, with Wei Jun’s influence and his own intelligence, Wei Yun had picked up some skills. But after the age of fifteen, he no longer had the time. By then, he had mastered calligraphy well enough to avoid ridicule from court officials, learned to write well enough to spar with the literati, and never let his long spear leave his side—yet he never touched the qin or blended incense again.

He was nothing like Yan Yunlang, a carefree and romantic young master who had grown up without worries. His world had been far crueler.

Chu Yu stroked his hand and smiled. "Why compare yourself to him in these things?"

Wei Yun pressed his lips together. Then Chu Yu asked, "Do you really know how?"

"It’s been… a long time since I practiced," Wei Yun admitted hesitantly.

Chu Yu laughed and called Wanyue over. "Go to my room and bring the qin here," she instructed.

Wanyue nodded and went to fetch the qin. When it was brought over, Wei Yun stared at it with unease. "You… you really want me to play?"

Chu Yu raised an eyebrow. "Were you lying to me?"

"No," Wei Yun said immediately. "How could I lie to you?"

With that, he took the qin, ran his fingers over the strings, and tried earnestly to recall how he had been taught all those years ago.He had originally studied under a master, but back then he was too mischievous—though his foundational skills remained intact nonetheless.

Lowering his gaze to the qin, he placed his hands upon it and gently plucked the strings.

It had indeed been a long time since he last played, and the notes were not exactly smooth.

Yet he played with great earnestness, his posture and hand movements all revealing the refined upbringing he once had.

Chu Yu leaned against his shoulder, listening as his playing grew increasingly fluid. Watching his hands, she said softly, "Huaiyu."

"Hmm?"

"In the future, will you come with me?"

"Okay."

"Aren’t you even going to ask where?" Chu Yu couldn’t help but laugh. Wei Yun replied calmly, "You’ve always been someone who values responsibility. If you decide to leave, it must mean the world is at peace, and I’ll have no attachments left. Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow."

"By then, you’ll have time to learn the qin properly," Chu Yu said, her gaze lingering on his hands. "You could be like those noble young masters in Hua Jing—studying the qin, painting, blending fragrances..."

Wei Yun’s playing faltered. Chu Yu looked up. "Doesn’t that sound nice?"

Wei Yun stayed silent. Chu Yu tilted her head. "What’s wrong?"

After struggling for a moment, Wei Yun finally admitted, "Well... A Yu, by then, I’ll have to focus on teaching the children properly."

Having barely escaped such torment himself, he’d leave Chu Yu to torment the children instead!

Hearing this, Chu Yu thought for a moment and nodded. "You’re right. We’ll have to teach the children by then."

Wei Yun’s heart eased—until he suddenly realized something.

This was one of the rare times Chu Yu had spoken to him about the future.

He couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to his lips, no matter how hard he tried. Chu Yu poked his forehead. "What are you grinning about?"

Wei Yun covered his forehead with a hand, chuckling as he lowered his head. "Just thinking about being with you in the future makes me happy."

With Chu Yu’s reassurance—though she hadn’t said it outright—Wei Yun’s anger dissipated, and he no longer held a grudge against Yan Yunlang.

However, Yan Yunlang was nothing if not persistent. He came every night. If his flute-playing got him chased away one evening, the next he would light sky lanterns from a distance, each inscribed with the character "Yu" from Chu Yu’s name. This infuriated Wei Yun so much that he shot down nearly a hundred lanterns with arrows.

Yan Yunlang’s antics naturally did not escape Liu Xueyang’s notice. Learning of Yan Yunlang’s actions also meant learning how Wei Yun constantly intercepted him, which struck her as odd. "Xiao Qi’s behavior is rather strange. A Yu is his sister-in-law—what business does a younger brother-in-law have meddling in his sister-in-law’s romantic affairs? If Young Master Yan were some scoundrel, it’d be one thing, but Xiao Qi even stops him from sending letters openly and shoots down his sky lanterns. Lately, he’s been returning to the manor early every day, as if he’s keeping an eye on Young Master Yan..."

The more she spoke, the more something felt off. Then, abruptly, she said, "Do you think Xiao Qi and A Yu are getting too close?"

The moment the words left her mouth, both Liu Xueyang and Gui Momo stiffened. Liu Xueyang coughed lightly and turned away. "I must be overthinking it. After all, Xiao Qi was practically raised by A Yu. Though she’s only a year older, a sister-in-law is like a mother—and all these years, Wei Manor has relied on her to hold things together..."

As she spoke, her voice trailed off. Some things felt fine when left unspoken, but once voiced, they carried an uncomfortable weight. After a pause, she finally instructed Gui Momo, "Have someone keep a discreet watch on the First Madam and the Prince."Gui Momo felt a bit flustered, but having served Liu Xueyang for a long time, she lowered her voice and replied, "Yes."

After speaking, Liu Xueyang stood in the courtyard, frowning, and clasped her hands together, murmuring, "May the Bodhisattva bless us."

Author's Note:

[Mini Theater]

Chu Yu: "How does the cold war feel?"

Wei Yun: "Pretty cold."

Chu Yu: "How cold?"

Wei Yun: "As cold as winter without a blanket."

As for the plot progression, I’ve been feeling calm lately and can’t bring myself to write any major developments. The current mood just calls for tender romance. If you find it too slow or sweet, you might want to save up chapters for later. I’ll mention in the chapter summaries when important plot points are coming up.

Chu Yu and Wei Qingping will likely leave around this week—no need to rush.