Legend of the Female General

Chapter 126: The Moon (Part 2)

He Yan had never thought before that life could be so difficult—so difficult that taking even one step forward felt impossible.

It had been a long time since she last looked at the moon.

From the moment she lost her sight until now, she had been living in a daze. Xu Zhiheng comforted her, promising to stay by her side forever, and He Yan smiled and agreed. Yet, no matter how calm she appeared on the surface, her heart was filled with confusion and fear. Throughout her life, she had faced many hardships, often relying on sheer willpower to stand up and tell herself that once she crossed this step, everything would be fine. Unconsciously, when she looked back, she had already crossed many such steps.

Only this step, she could not cross, nor did she know how to cross it.

No longer the Flying Goose General, He Yan, now Madam Xu, was just an ordinary woman. An ordinary woman who had suddenly lost her sight. Though her husband still treated her well, this kindness felt like flowers reflected in water—illusory and perfunctory. She could not feel it.

On the Qixi Festival, she sat in the mansion until late at night but never saw Xu Zhiheng return. She initially thought it was due to official matters at court, only to learn the next day that Xu Zhiheng had accompanied He Wanru to the temple fair the day before. Groping her way to sit by the window in her room, she quietly listened to the idle chatter of the maids outside.

"Yesterday, the master and madam argued so fiercely that even the old master found out. When the master is in a bad mood, it’s us servants who suffer, all because of the one in the east courtyard."

"To be honest, the master is too soft-hearted. The one in the east courtyard is blind now—how can the Madam of the Xu family be a blind woman? It’s just inviting ridicule. Madam has even declined several banquet invitations these days, just to avoid others asking about it."

A young maid couldn’t bear it and spoke up for her: "Madam wasn’t born blind. It happened suddenly, and she’s already pitiable enough."

"Pitiable? What’s pitiable about her? Even if she’s blind, she can stay in the mansion every day, waited on hand and foot, at least lacking nothing in food or clothing. How is she any different from a pet? The pitiable one is the master, tied to this blind woman for the rest of his life at such a young age. With his unparalleled talent, what kind of woman couldn’t he find? Why settle for this one?"

"Exactly! The master is the pitiable one!"

Words like these, sharp as hooks, pierced her heart one by one, leaving her bleeding and wounded.

That night, she sat in her room, waiting for Xu Zhiheng to return. When he did, she said to him, "Let’s divorce."

Xu Zhiheng was taken aback and asked gently, "Why say such a thing?"

"Or you can divorce me," she said bluntly, never one to beat around the bush. "Now that I can no longer see, there’s no need to burden you."

"We are husband and wife," Xu Zhiheng held her hand and said, "Don’t bring this up again. Rest early."

He changed the subject but did not deny He Yan’s use of the word "burden."

He Yan’s heart gradually sank.

From then on, every day, she lived a life where clothes were handed to her and food was brought to her mouth, often hearing the servants’ veiled mockery. Madam Xu also spoke to her with sharp, barbed words, implying that He Yan was a burden to the Xu family.

Xu Zhiheng remained gentle with her, but aside from gentleness, there was nothing more.

He Yan felt utterly exhausted.

It was as if she were walking on a pitch-black night road, with no other travelers in sight. She could not see the light ahead, nor was there any place to retreat behind her. She did not know when this torturous life would come to an end.A few days before the Mid-Autumn Festival night, she said to Xu Zhiheng, "I know of the Jade Splendor Temple on Lotus Snow Mountain. There's an Immortal Tree in the temple that is said to be particularly efficacious. Could we go up the mountain during the Mid-Autumn Festival? I want to hang a silk ribbon on the tree and make a wish. Perhaps my eyes can still be cured."

Since losing her sight, she had almost never made any requests of Xu Zhiheng. Xu Zhiheng was taken aback for a moment but eventually agreed. He said, "Alright."

Perhaps when one is unlucky, even drinking cold water feels like a struggle. In previous years, the Mid-Autumn Festival had always been clear and sunny, but this year, it rained continuously for days. By the time the carriage reached the mountain, the sky was so gloomy it seemed unnatural. It was impossible to descend the mountain that afternoon, and they might even have to stay overnight on the mountain.

Xu Zhiheng helped her to the temple to pray. A monk placed a red silk ribbon in her hand and told her the location of the Immortal Tree behind the temple. He Yan rubbed the red silk ribbon and thanked the monk.

The monk clasped his hands together and said kindly, "Even after countless kalpas, the karma one creates does not vanish. When causes and conditions align, the consequences will be borne by oneself."

She did not understand Buddhist scriptures, but before she could ask further, the monk had already walked away.

In the rain, Xu Zhiheng accompanied He Yan to the Immortal Tree.

Beside the Immortal Tree were stone tables and stools, intended for pilgrims who came to hang red silk ribbons to write their wishes. Xu Zhiheng spread out the red silk ribbon for her, placed a brush in her hand, and said, "Write."

Relying on her senses, He Yan slowly wrote: I hope I can still see the moon.

Without even thinking, she knew the handwriting must be crooked and pitifully messy.

After finishing the writing, she solemnly handed the red silk ribbon to Xu Zhiheng, who hung it on the Immortal Tree for her. He Yan could see nothing, so she did not see her husband stand up and casually hang the red silk ribbon on a branch at his elbow. He didn’t even bother to tie it securely, merely draping it loosely. There was no shelter from the rain on the tree, and before long, the red silk ribbon was soaked by the rain. The writing on it quickly blurred into a smudge of ink, making it impossible to discern what had been written.

"Let’s go," Xu Zhiheng said, coming over to help He Yan leave.

With a rumble, a faint clap of thunder sounded, and a cool wind suddenly blew, rustling the branches. The loosely hung red silk ribbon was blown off by the wind and fell into a small puddle of water, splashing mud all over.

He Yan seemed to sense something and asked worriedly, "The wind is so strong. Will it blow the ribbon away?"

"How could it?" Xu Zhiheng laughed reassuringly. "It’s tied very tightly." With that, as if he hadn’t seen it, he stepped over the red silk ribbon.

…

The rain showed no signs of stopping, and they had no choice but to stay overnight in the mountains.

Xu Zhiheng went to discuss scriptures with the master of Jade Splendor Temple. It was already evening, and the room was lit with lamps. He Yan sat quietly.

Normally, she would have gone to bed by this time—a blind person had little to do besides sleeping and eating. But tonight, the sound of the rain was sparse, and she couldn’t sleep. Not knowing what time it was, she called out the names of her maids twice but received no response. So, leaning against the wall, she slowly walked outside, intending to call for someone.

Just as she reached the door, she heard two maids talking.

"Did I just hear the mistress calling?"

"Did you? Let her call. Don’t bother. It’s so late, what could she want? She’s already blind and still causing trouble, acting as if she’s really the mistress."

He Yan was stunned by what she heard.These two maids were not her personal attendants; they served in Xu Zhiheng's quarters. Usually, they were the gentlest and most amiable, and because of Xu Zhiheng's influence, they had always treated her with respect and deference. Who would have guessed that in private, they spoke of her this way?

"If she hadn't insisted on coming up the mountain today, we wouldn't have to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival here. It's raining outside—what terrible luck. The master is just too kind-hearted, putting up with such a burden without complaint."

"You know the master's temperament. Even if he doesn't show it, he must resent it deep down. Our Xu family has become the laughingstock of the capital. The master has always been proud and ambitious—it must be eating him up inside. If I were her, I'd hang myself with a rope and spare others the trouble."

"Shh! How can you say such things?"

The maid who spoke was unperturbed. "It's the truth. She's like an animal, waiting to be fed every day, sleeping after she eats, forever being waited on. She can't leave the estate, and she can't see. Her life is dull and meaningless. A year or two might be bearable, but a whole lifetime like this? What's the point of living? Better to die early and be free, hope for a better rebirth in the next life, so she can see again."

"Stop talking. There's hot water outside—let's go fetch some."

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away.

He Yan, with her back to the door, slowly slid down to sit on the floor.

Yes, a year or two might be bearable, but a whole lifetime like this? What's the point of living?

The maids in the master's quarters knew whom the master favored and whom they could trample upon. The fact that these two could discuss her so casually meant that Xu Zhiheng, in his own quarters, was not as uncomplaining and devoted as he appeared before her.

But then, how many people in this world could truly be uncomplaining and devoted?

He Yan didn't know if the lamps were lit in the room. To her, it was all the same darkness. Suddenly, a feeling of utter despair washed over her. As a child, she practiced martial arts; as a youth, she studied; later, she went to the battlefield, fought for military merits—her entire life had been spent paving the way for others. Finally, she removed her mask, thinking everything could start anew, only to be plunged into darkness at this very moment, doomed to be trapped for the rest of her life within the four walls of a manor, unable to take a single step without someone following her.

Despair does not accumulate overnight. It is the small, everyday things that gnaw away at a person's passion, bit by bit, until all enthusiasm is exhausted. Disappointment and heaviness pile up layer by layer, and then the final straw drifts down lightly—with a splash, hope sinks to the bottom.

Despair engulfs everything.

Groping her way, she slowly stood up.

There was a belt left from her clothes in the room. She hastily grabbed her outer robe and draped it over herself, picked up the bamboo cane she used since losing her sight, and stumbled out the door.

The mountain temple was sparsely populated to begin with, and with the darkness and rain outside, the monks had long since retreated to the prayer hall. She wandered aimlessly and, surprisingly, didn't bump into anyone else.

Fortunately, during her youth in the military, she had developed a remarkable memory for routes. She still remembered what Xu Zhiheng had told her on their way up the mountain: near the temple, there was a dense forest by a mountain stream. A waterfall cascaded down like pearls falling onto a plate, magnificent and wondrous.

Mountains, water, and trees—it wasn't a bad place. The only pity was that it was raining tonight, so there was no moon, which she loved.

For a blind person, going out was always inconvenient, especially on muddy mountain paths. She didn't know how many times she had fallen or tripped over stones. All she felt was her clothes soaked through and her hair disheveled. By the end, she was panting heavily and had no idea where she was.She collapsed before a tree, her head striking the trunk. He Yan reached out and felt around—the tree was large, likely an old one that had stood for many years.

The dense forest with a waterfall was probably impossible to find now, but this place would do. She had never been overly concerned with her surroundings. After much effort, she managed to move a stone.

Exhausted, He Yan sat down on the stone.

The rain had lightened, falling in a fine, dense mist against her skin. The young woman tilted her head toward the sky as if she could see the moon. Only rainwater trickled down her cheeks; she wiped it away.

"Be not a boat upon the river, be not the moon above the river."

"The boat carries parting souls, the moon shines on farewells."

For this world, she held no lingering attachments. Her only regret was that there was no moon tonight.

He Yan slowly rose to her feet, her hand finding the cloth strip beside her. It was tied tightly; she tugged downward—it felt secure, unlikely to break.

She kicked the stone away.

...

The cloth twisted into a rope snapped with a sharp sound.

Caught off guard, He Yan fell to the ground.

Mud splattered all over her. She lay stunned for a moment before realizing—the cloth strip had broken.

It had actually broken?

In that instant, an inexplicable wave of grievance and sorrow surged within her, impossible to suppress. She choked back a sob, then began to weep softly, before finally collapsing onto the ground and crying out loud.

He Yan seldom shed tears.

For a general, shedding tears was an act that undermined morale. On the battlefield, she had to maintain an appearance of unwavering confidence and vigor, as if nothing and no one could sway her judgment. When she was no longer a general, wanting to cry only made her feel overly sentimental.

But everyone has moments of vulnerability. She could endure being neglected, losing her sight, hearing the mockery and scorn of maids, and even the hints from her mother-in-law that she had become a burden.

Yet if even death eluded her, if even the cloth strip broke—she could no longer hold back.

Her tears were scalding, falling in large drops down her cheeks and vanishing into the mud beneath her, indistinguishable from the rain.

She wept with heart-wrenching sobs when suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cut through the air.

It was a man’s voice, low and pleasant amid the wind and rain, tinged with impatience as he asked, "What are you crying for?"

He Yan’s crying ceased abruptly.

Xiao Jue looked at the woman before him.

This was a woman seeking death, every part of her radiating wretchedness. She wore white undergarments but had donned a red outer robe, its belt tied backward. She must have stumbled many times along the way, as her clothes were torn in several places. Her face was filthy, smeared with mud like a stray cat.

Xiao Jue, who valued cleanliness, found the sight deeply grating. Unable to bear it, he finally took out a white handkerchief and offered it to her.

The woman did not take it. Instead, she assumed a defensive posture and asked, "Who are you?"

He paused, surprised, noticing the vagueness in her gaze. After a moment’s thought, he put away the handkerchief, crouched down, and asked, "You can’t see?"

The woman was taken aback, then replied fiercely, "That’s right! I’m blind!"

She said it with a haughty air.

Fei Nu, standing behind him, stepped forward, but Xiao Jue shook his head gently at him.

He Yan remained on guard, her fists clenched tightly.She had only wanted to hang herself quietly, but now the cloth had snapped, and a stranger had witnessed her embarrassing state. Why did fate always treat her with such unexpected twists?

Xiao Jue glanced at her indifferently, bent down to pick up the throwing knife from the ground. Moments ago, he had used it to sever the cloth hanging from the tree.

"What do you want?" He Yan asked.

Xiao Jue replied, "Just passing by."

He was truly not the type of kind-hearted person who enjoyed meddling in others' affairs.

Having done this much, he had already fulfilled his duty. Xiao Jue stood up and turned to leave. After a few steps, Fei Nu approached and whispered, "Today, only the Hanlin Academician Xu Zhiheng and his wife are at Jade Splendor Temple. This woman should be Madam Xu, who lost her sight some time ago—He Yan."

He Yan? He raised an eyebrow. He Rufei's sister?

Xiao Jue turned back to look.

The woman had already groped her way to the two broken pieces of cloth. Though the cloth wasn’t long, broken into two halves, it could still be used. She first measured one half against her neck, confirming it would work, then shakily began tying a knot with it.

She actually intended to hang herself again.

Xiao Jue found it almost unbelievable, and then he felt a flicker of amusement.

This stubbornness, bordering on foolishness, was strikingly similar to her cousin.

Most people who sought death did so in a moment of passion, driven by a surge of emotion to hang themselves, drown in a lake, or leap from a cliff. But when the moment truly arrived, the majority would regret it—though by then, it was often too late.

Since this woman had already tasted the brink of death, she shouldn’t seek it again. Yet, unexpectedly, she persisted, determined to continue even after the rope snapped.

He should have left her alone. No one could stop someone truly intent on dying.

But in Xiao Jue’s mind, a memory surfaced from many years ago—a Mid-Autumn night just like this, when a young boy returned home anxiously, only to find his mother’s cold corpse.

The scene before him seemed to overlap with the past. For a moment, he couldn’t distinguish between then and now.

Fei Nu stood behind him, watching with confusion.

Xiao Jue took a deep breath and finally relented. He walked over to the woman and asked, "Why are you trying to die?"

He Yan was startled.

She had clearly heard the sound of his departing footsteps. Why had he suddenly returned? Her entire life had been spent yielding and being manipulated by others. Now, at the end, she no longer wished to consider anyone else’s feelings. This meddler’s interference had already displeased her, and she directed all her pent-up anger at him.

She practically roared back, "None of your business!"

The young man grabbed her arm and dragged her up from the ground.

He Yan was shocked and struggled briefly, but she was already weak and stumbling, unable to see. For a moment, she was pulled along, and after a few steps, she was dropped, landing hard on the ground.

The ground was soft—a patch of grass.

The man seemed to be standing beside her, leaning down as he spoke in a cold voice, "Why are you trying to die?"

He Yan was also filled with frustration and shouted loudly, "I already told you it’s none of your business! There’s no moon tonight, so I want to die! The path up the mountain was too slippery, so I want to die! Even the rope I tied snapped, so I want to die! And I ran into a meddler like you here, so I want to die! Is that enough for you?"

She yelled fiercely, but tears streamed down her face. What had seemed like a fierce tiger now resembled a drenched, lost stray cat.

Fei Nu stood nervously behind Xiao Jue.It was already rare for Second Young Master Xiao to have the patience to bother with such trivial matters, but for this woman to be so fierce was even rarer among rarities.

After He Yan finished shouting, she suddenly felt something wiping her face. Soft, dense like clouds plucked from a spring day.

A calm voice, carrying a trace of imperceptible, tolerant warmth and comfort, sounded.

"If you truly wish to be strong, what does it matter if you're blind? Even if you are blind, you can still be the most different among the blind."

Her fury abruptly ceased.

All her wretchedness and weakness were laid bare, completely exposed before others.

"It's nothing. Although I can't see, I can still hear. With you by my side, it's fine," she said to Xu Zhiheng with a smile.

How could it be fine?

How could it not matter?

Night after night, she had traced her eyes with her fingers, praying to the heavens for pity so that she might regain her sight the next day. Those sleepless nights, the nights she gritted her teeth and told herself it didn't matter, the nights she pretended nothing was wrong yet couldn't bear herself—they knew nothing of it.

They understood nothing.

Yet a passing stranger understood.

Don't cry, don't let others see your weakness, don't complain, don't lose your temper. It had been too long, so long that these emotions, like silkworms spinning silk, had wrapped her layer by layer into a sturdy cocoon. She sat alone inside the cocoon, isolated from the outside world.

Outside the cocoon, He Yan was gentle, optimistic, always smiling and considerate of others. Inside the cocoon, He Yan was in pain, aggrieved, suppressing all cries for help.

For so many years, from "He Rufei" to "He Yan," her mask had never truly been removed.

Until tonight, when a passing stranger saw through everything, lifted her mask, and discovered her tears.

All her defenses and vigilance instantly deflated. Slowly, she lowered her head, and larger teardrops fell.

Originally, he thought that after saying these words, He Yan would stop crying. Unexpectedly, she cried even louder. The rain showed no sign of stopping, and the grass beneath them was already soaked.

Xiao Jue crooked a finger, and Fei Nu stepped forward. He took the umbrella from Fei Nu's hand and held it over He Yan's head.

He Yan still did not stop.

He had never seen such a fierce, ill-tempered, and particularly tearful woman. It was hard to imagine that He Rufei, with his foolishly cheerful nature, could have such a completely different sister.

Xiao Jue was bewildered by her crying. Unable to bear it any longer, he finally spoke: "Stop crying."

"Why can't I cry?" she retorted like an ungrateful wild cat, baring her claws at the one offering food. Her voice was already hoarse, yet she still argued: "Not only will I cry, but I'll also seek death. I'm already like this, what's the point of living? Wuwuwuwu..."

Xiao Jue: "..."

He had never comforted a woman before. Was this the result of his first attempt? So utterly stubborn?

"What will it take for you to stop crying?" he suppressed his anger. "To stop trying to hang yourself?"

He Yan sobbed and sniffled. By now, she actually had no intention of seeking death anymore. Sometimes, people are just stuck at a critical juncture—once past it, it's over; if not, it remains unresolved. This passerby had appeared inexplicably, and his words weren't particularly warm, but...

But she no longer wanted to die.

She said, "If you can give me a piece of candy right now, I won't seek death."As a child, she loved sweet things, but after the age of five, Madam He kept a strict watch over everything about her. Afraid of revealing her true identity, she had to abandon the habit of craving sweets like a young girl. Later, when she joined the army, there were no sweet candies, only coarse dry biscuits. After she married, on one occasion when He Yan saw He Wanru fall ill, Xu Zhiheng went to visit her and specifically brought her a small box of preserved fruits.

He Wanru took a sip of medicine, and Xu Zhiheng immediately placed a candied fruit into her mouth. When He Yan passed by the window and saw this, a pang of sourness rose in her heart. She didn’t know whether she envied Xu Zhiheng’s tenderness toward He Wanru or envied He Wanru for receiving so much sweetness after just a little bitterness.

He Yan had never been willful, but tonight, for some reason, she seemed determined to push her willfulness to the extreme with this stranger.

The young man was slightly taken aback and turned to look at the person beside him.

The woman’s face had been hastily wiped with a handkerchief, her cheeks still smudged with mud. Her eyes were slightly swollen but shone with an unusual brightness, and her stubborn expression felt strangely familiar.

It reminded him of a certain clumsy youth.

He remained silent for a moment, then his slender fingers reached to untie the sachet at his waist.

Fei Nu was startled.

Holding the dark green pouch in his hand, he pinched the bottom of the bag, and a piece of osmanthus candy wrapped in sugar paper tumbled out.

Too much time had passed, and the sugar paper had stuck to the candy, turning it dark and unrecognizable. After Madam Xiao passed away, Xiao Jue had carried the last piece of osmanthus candy with him. Over the years, this candy had accompanied him through many difficult times. When he felt he couldn’t go on, just looking at it seemed to let him taste a hint of sweetness in the world.

This was the only bit of sweetness in his life. Now, he was going to give it to a woman who was crying uncontrollably and seeking death. He thought, his life no longer needed sweetness. So be it.

He Yan felt something being pressed into her hand.

Instinctively, she clenched it, ready to unwrap it.

“You can’t eat it,” the man’s voice sounded beside her.

“What?” she said. “Are you lying to me? Did you just pick up a stone and tell me it’s candy?”

He Yan heard a faint trace of melancholy in his voice. “This candy is the last one left in the world. It’s very sweet, but you can’t eat it.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He Yan had never known herself to be so pushy. She thought this person must have a very good temper and a soft heart to tolerate her repeated mischief. She said, “It’s very sweet but I can’t eat it, and it’s the only one in the world. Is it bestowed by the Emperor or something?”

She didn’t see the handsome young man sitting beside her lower his head and smile faintly. “More precious than an imperial bestowal.”

Taking advantage of his distraction, He Yan quickly tore open the sugar paper and stuffed the candy into her mouth.

“You…” He was stunned.

“I’ve already eaten it, swallowed it!” He Yan acted shamelessly.

He didn’t respond.

This was the first piece of candy she had ever received in her life. The taste was strange, mixed with her tears—so bitter. She thought, so be it.

“Has the rain stopped?” She no longer felt raindrops falling on her and reached out to brush the air, asking the person beside her.

The young man beside her had been kneeling on one knee, holding an umbrella over her. The umbrella was small, and most of his body was already soaked. His sharply defined profile was dotted with fine droplets on his eyelashes, softening his gaze with a faint tenderness.

“It’s stopped.”

“Is there a moon in the sky?”

The sky was heavy and dark, without a single star in sight—where would the moon come from?

He replied, “Yes.”

“What’s it like outside?”

“The bright moon is like frost, the gentle breeze like water, an endless scene of tranquility.”

He Yan showed her first smile of the night. “How wonderful.”

She heard the person beside her ask, “Don’t want to die anymore?”

“No.”"If you don't want to die, go home," he said, pulling He Yan to her feet. Instinctively, she tried to grasp his hand, but that slender, distinctively jointed hand had already withdrawn with startling speed.

Xiao Jue walked over to Fei Nu and instructed in a low voice, "Take her to my sister-in-law's room. Have my sister-in-law send her back. As a man, it's not appropriate for me to intervene personally."

Fei Nu acknowledged the order.

Just as they were about to leave, Xiao Jue suddenly added, "Warn Xu Zhiheng—tell him not to go too far."

This was clearly a gesture of standing up for He Yan.

Fei Nu approached to support He Yan. Sensing that the other person was about to leave, she reached out in his direction and asked, "...Thank you. Who are you?"

He remained silent. He Yan only managed to catch the edge of his sleeve, which slipped from her grasp—cool and soft, like moonlight.

Though she could see nothing, she felt as if she had glimpsed a light—warm yet distant, blazing yet gentle, devoid of any reproach. It was patient, forgiving, piercing through all her secrets while tenderly enveloping her.

In the end, she never learned who he truly was.

That was the worst Mid-Autumn Festival He Yan had ever experienced—covered in mud, disheveled, teetering on the brink of despair. Yet, she found solace in the thought that the moon had been by her side all along.

There was no moon that night, but the moonlight felt truly beautiful—that delicate, gentle glow warmed her heart for many years to come.

(End of Chapter)