Chapter 151: Regret
Mu Xiaolou nestled against Mu Hongjin for a while longer before being called away by Auntie Tong. The maid beside her helped Mu Hongjin to her feet, and she took a few steps forward until she stood before the painted wall adorned with murals.
The hall was vast and desolate, its only lively feature being this mural wall. It depicted bustling market crowds and the ceaseless flow of canal traffic, capturing all the vibrancy of Jiyang City. Every face radiated joy and delight—a vivid liveliness she hadn’t seen in many years.
After all, since assuming the position of Princess, she had spent most of her time in this empty, echoing palace.
Mu Xiaolou would be sent out of the city later today. The so-called birthday banquet for the royal uncle was merely a pretext. The feudal lords had long ceased interactions to avoid arousing the Emperor’s suspicions, each keeping to their own domains to maintain peace in the realm. Now, with the Wutuo People lurking in the shadows, Jiyang stood on the brink of turmoil. As Princess, she could not flee; she must remain in the city, sharing life and death with the people who could not leave. This was the integrity of the Mu family. But Mu Xiaolou could not stay—she was Jiyang’s only hope. If… if the worst came to pass, as long as Mu Xiaolou lived, there would still be hope.
“The officials have already ordered the evacuation of the people,” the maid whispered. “Is Your Highness worried about the Little Princess?”
Mu Hongjin shook her head with a faint smile. “I am worried about Jiyang City.”
Outside the window, the willow tree’s long branches, dipped in the fresh green of spring, stretched over the pond, stirring tiny ripples. Carp in the water vied to nibble at them, a scene brimming with vitality.
Every spring was like this; what changed were only the people.
In her youth, Mu Hongjin had loved life outside the palace. As the youngest daughter of the Mengji King, while her elder brother was still alive, she was like any other cherished, innocent daughter of Jiyang’s wealthy families—pampered and adored, living with passion and charm. But after her brother’s death when she was sixteen, everything changed.
The Mengji King began to make her learn many things and adhere to many rules. It was then that Mu Hongjin truly understood how arduous her brother’s life had been. Yet arduous as it was, the Mengji King had no other heirs. As the one destined to shoulder the responsibilities of the entire palace, enduring hardship was inevitable.
But when even her marriage was to be controlled by others, Mu Hongjin found it hard to accept.
Looking back now, she had been too accustomed to indulgence, too young and impulsive, daring to run away without a second thought. She hadn’t realized how her father, left alone in the palace, would deal with the high-ranking minister whose marriage proposal had been rejected. If it were the present-day Mu Hongjin, she likely wouldn’t have such courage.
The more one bears, the less freedom one has to be “oneself.” The courage to risk everything comes only once in a lifetime. Once that age passes, once that moment is gone, it never returns. Along with the youthful self, it vanishes into the river of time.
Mu Hongjin had truly liked Liu Buwang back then.
The young man in white was reserved and aloof, upright and self-disciplined, yet at times possessed a naive innocence about the ways of the world. Despite his extraordinary skills and peerless martial prowess, he could earnestly help a farmer search for a lost sheep without a word of complaint. But Mu Hongjin thought that these so-called virtues—kindness, purity—were merely additions. Her fondness for Liu Buwang had begun from the very start, when he stood before her under the peach blossom tree, sword in hand, driving away the ruffians who threatened her.Hero rescuing beauty—how many happy marriages have been born from such legendary tales. She was determined to follow Liu Buwang, resorting to every trick in the book: acting spoiled, shedding tears, coaxing, and deceiving, all aimed at him. Unfortunately, Liu Buwang remained aloof and polite toward her, showing no particular favor.
Mu Hongjin felt somewhat discouraged, but upon second thought, compared to others, Liu Buwang treated her quite well. Though he earned little silver, he would order an extra plate of apricot blossom pastries for her when dining at restaurants. When staying at inns, he would spend a bit more to add a thicker mattress for her. He left money in plain sight, turning a blind eye when she secretly took some to buy rouge. If he held no affection for her, he certainly wouldn’t have tolerated her to this extent. Thus, Mu Hongjin always believed that with just one more step and a little more time, it was only a matter of time before Liu Buwang fell in love with her.
That was until Liu Buwang’s junior sister came down the mountain to find him.
The junior sister was named Yushu. Unlike the fiery temperament of Jiyang women, she appeared frail, as if a gust of wind could blow her away. Her skin was as pale as a porcelain doll, like a celestial maiden beneath the Goddess of Mercy, ethereal and graceful. She spoke softly and gently, easily evoking pity and affection. Yet, Mu Hongjin could detect a faint trace of hostility in the girl’s eyes.
At the time, she was careless and didn’t realize what it meant. Hearing that Yushu was the daughter of Taoist Priest Yunji and had come down the mountain specifically to help Liu Buwang navigate the complexities of the mortal world, Mu Hongjin developed a fondness for her and treated her like a younger sister.
The duo became a trio, but Mu Hongjin didn’t feel any difference. Yushu was always well-behaved, unlike her, never causing trouble for Liu Buwang. Before they knew it, over a month had passed.
On the day Liu Buwang was supposed to return to Qiyun Mountain, he originally planned to take Mu Hongjin with him. Unexpectedly, both inside and outside Jiyang City, soldiers were conducting strict searches for the missing Little Princess, checking everyone one by one. Even the foot of Qiyun Mountain was under surveillance.
Mu Hongjin couldn’t go up Qiyun Mountain.
She pulled Liu Buwang into a room and looked at him seriously, saying, “I can’t go back with you.”
The young man thought she was up to some mischief again and asked, “Why?”
“I’ll tell you the truth,” Mu Hongjin hesitated for a moment before revealing everything. “I am the daughter of the Prince of Mengji. The person the soldiers are searching for inside and outside the city is me.”
Liu Buwang was stunned.
“My father wants to marry me off to the son of a court official to solidify the prince’s position. I refused, so I ran away. I never expected to meet you. This past month, I’ve been very happy, Liu Buwang,” she didn’t call him “young hero” but addressed him directly by name. “I don’t want to marry him, but I also can’t go up the mountain with you. What should I do?”
The girl was no longer as lively and mischievous as before. She looked at him quietly, her eyes filled with complete trust and perhaps a hint of unconscious dependence.
Liu Buwang didn’t know what to say either. Perhaps he had long sensed that Mu Hongjin’s identity was unusual. A girl raised in the lap of luxury in the Prince of Mengji’s mansion was, after all, different from the ordinary girls of Jiyang City.
After thinking for a long time, Liu Buwang said to her, “In that case, wait for me at this inn. I’ll go up the mountain and inform my master about this. In a couple of days, I’ll come back down to fetch you and find a way to resolve this matter.”
Mu Hongjin felt reluctant. “Are you leaving now?”
“I’ll come back,” the young man replied awkwardly.On the day he left, Mu Hongjin saw him off in the clearing behind the inn. Her eyes held a trace of unease, as if she had already foreseen something. Unable to help herself, she grabbed Liu Buwang’s sleeve and said to him, “Liu Buwang, remember your promise. You must come back.”
“Don’t worry.” For the first and last time, he patted her head reassuringly.
Liu Buwang and Yushu left, and Mu Hongjin obediently waited for him at the inn. She believed Liu Buwang would definitely return. Even though he didn’t yet like her, he was a man of his word.
Two days later, Liu Buwang did not return.
Mu Hongjin continued waiting at the inn. She thought perhaps something had delayed him on the road. It had rained for several days and nights, making the mountain paths difficult to traverse. Maybe he couldn’t descend the mountain immediately. Or perhaps Daoist Priest Yunji had entrusted him with some task he had to complete before coming.
Another five days passed, and Liu Buwang still hadn’t appeared. Mu Hongjin began to grow anxious. The world was so unsettled—could he have been robbed by passing bandits? Though his swordsmanship was formidable, his heart was pure and kind. Even she could deceive him so easily—how could he truly contend with those sinister and despicable villains?
On the tenth day, someone finally arrived at the inn, but it wasn’t Liu Buwang—it was the imperial soldiers. The officer in charge stood before her, his tone respectful yet cold. “Your Highness, it’s time to return home.”
Mu Hongjin was taken back to the Mengji Prince’s residence. Locked in her room, she pounded on the windows until they rattled, shouting, “Let me out!”
No one answered.
She began a hunger strike in protest. Her father, the Prince of Mengji, ordered the door opened.
Mu Hongjin rushed to the Prince of Mengji, tearfully complaining, “Father, how could you let them lock me up!”
“Hongjin,” the Prince of Mengji shook his head with a smile, placing the dishes from the maid’s tray one by one before her. “These are all your favorite snacks.”
“I don’t want to eat,” Mu Hongjin turned her head away. “I want to leave the residence.”
The Prince of Mengji did not grow angry. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Are you waiting for that young man surnamed Liu?”
Mu Hongjin looked up sharply, unable to hide her surprise. “How did you know?”
“He won’t be coming back.”
“No, he will!” Mu Hongjin couldn’t help but retort. “He promised me. He wouldn’t break his word.”
“Is that so?” the Prince of Mengji said calmly. “Do you think I found out your whereabouts by chance?”
Mu Hongjin froze.
The cruel words from her father shattered the beautiful illusion she had been clinging to. “It was he who told me your location.”
“He personally delivered you back.”
Why Liu Buwang had sent her back to the prince’s residence was a question Mu Hongjin never understood later. She didn’t want to believe the Prince of Mengji’s words, but Liu Buwang truly vanished from her life, never appearing again.
In time, Mu Hongjin gradually came to believe it.
If someone like him truly wanted to find a person, how could he fail to find a way? She had persisted for over half a year but could hold on no longer.
Half a year later, Mu Hongjin married the son of a high-ranking court official. Though it was a marriage, her husband was referred to as her “Royal Consort.” The position of the feudal prince was secured, but the heir she bore still took the surname “Mu.”The husband was not as terrible as Mu Hongjin had previously described, but he was not particularly outstanding either. The two lived a life of mutual respect, and when he took concubines, she accepted it willingly—neither jealous nor resentful. The husband also knew his limits and treated her with respect. To outsiders, this was the most perfect marriage among blind, arranged unions. Yet Mu Hongjin felt that her vitality and spirit had already withered away like an epiphyllum in that spring day—blooming swiftly and fading just as quickly, vanishing without a trace.
She always felt an emptiness in her heart, unsure of what she truly sought. Thus, she could only devote more of her time to the official affairs of Jiyang City.
A red carp leaped out of the water, stirring ripples across the spring pond. Moments later, its red tail flicked the surface before it swiftly disappeared.
Mu Hongjin stared blankly at the water.
She had told He Yan that Liu Buwang never came to the inn to fulfill their agreement and that they had never met again. In truth, she had lied. After that, she and Liu Buwang had indeed met once more, though that encounter could hardly be described as pleasant.
It was the second year after she gave birth to her child. She had taken her young son and her husband to a temple in Jiyang City to pray for blessings. Amidst the curling incense smoke and the distant chants of Buddhist scriptures, she prayed for her son’s safe and healthy growth and for Jiyang City to enjoy favorable weather and its people to live in peace and happiness. As they finished their prayers and prepared to leave, she noticed someone peeping from outside the temple gates. Mu Hongjin ordered her guards to investigate, and they brought back a young woman.
Years had passed, yet the woman remained as delicate and timid as she had been at their first meeting, her gaze filled with fear and panic as she looked at Mu Hongjin.
Mu Hongjin was taken aback—it was Yushu.
Instinctively, she searched for Liu Buwang’s figure. If Yushu was here, perhaps Liu Buwang was nearby.
But Yushu seemed to read her thoughts and blurted out, “He’s not here!”
“Oh?” Mu Hongjin looked at her, a meaningful smile playing on her lips.
Time had allowed a woman to mature rapidly. Mu Hongjin was no longer the careless, naive girl who couldn’t even recognize a rival in love. She understood perfectly well where the hostility in this young woman’s eyes had come from all those years ago, though Mu Hongjin had never considered her a worthy opponent.
She tilted her head, crouched down, and stared at Yushu’s face with keen interest. “It doesn’t matter if he’s not here. If I capture you, he’ll naturally appear.”
Yushu’s face paled.
Mu Hongjin stood up, her expression cold. “Announce that a female assassin has been caught in the temple, attempting to assassinate me.”
The red shadow traced at the corners of her eyes was exquisite and ornate. She was no longer the girl with clear, bright eyes, innocent and unaware of the world’s complexities.
Mu Hongjin did not return to the prince’s residence. Instead, she stayed in the temple, dismissing all her guards and servants, instructing her husband to take their young son and leave, and waited alone for that person to appear.
In the middle of the night, he indeed appeared.
Years apart had stripped away the youthful innocence he once had, leaving him colder and more distant. And the first words he spoke upon seeing Mu Hongjin were not to ask how she had been all these years, but: “Where is Yushu?”
Devoid of emotion, as if the two of them had always been nothing more than strangers.
Mu Hongjin lowered her head, almost wanting to laugh. She could hardly help but wonder whether those days, that spring outside Jiyang City, had merely been a figment of her imagination. She had regarded Liu Buwang as the hero who had suddenly appeared in her life, while to him, she was nothing more than an unwelcome accident."In the prison." Her voice was equally cold.
Liu Buwang looked at her.
He had changed a great deal, and she was so unfamiliar. The girl from his memories bore no resemblance to the woman before him, clad in red robes and a golden coronet, her expression cold and haughty.
"Yushu could not have attempted to assassinate you."
"Why not?" Mu Hongjin let out a mocking laugh. "One may know a person's face but not their heart. Besides, I never truly knew her."
"Release her," Liu Buwang said. "Arrest me instead."
The way he looked at her was cold and devoid of emotion, no longer carrying the helpless indulgence or the infuriating concessions of the past. There was only the calmness of a stranger, and perhaps a hint of disdain for the "powerful and privileged."
How laughable.
"Why?" Mu Hongjin took a step forward, staring directly into his eyes. "She's just your junior sister. Why defend her so fiercely? Do you love her?"
It was merely a probing question, and Mu Hongjin herself didn't know what she was hoping for. Perhaps she hoped for a swift denial, for him to look at her and say, "You are the only one in my heart." What a clichéd plotline—one she would have scoffed at in the past, finding it nauseating. Yet now, she desperately wished to hear those words from his lips.
Unfortunately, stories were just stories, and legends were nothing but fabricated tales. In this world, passionate love and deep affection often ended in nothing but resentment. How many lovers turned into enemies? How many couples parted ways, never to meet again in the vast world?
Liu Buwang said, "Yes."
She asked, "What did you say?"
"I love her."
The young man's voice was frank and direct. In that instant, Mu Hongjin felt her fingers trembling. There was a time when she had longed to hear those words from Liu Buwang. For that, she had tried every trick in the book—deception, coercion, and persuasion. But Liu Buwang’s lips were sealed tight, and she had often grown furious, thinking his mouth was made of stone, impossible to pry open.
And now, he had said it so easily.
It turned out it wasn’t that his lips couldn’t be pried open—it was just that the person he was speaking to wasn’t her.
She felt increasingly ridiculous inside. Memories of the past flashed through her mind one by one. When she was a carefree young girl, she hadn’t noticed Yushu’s feelings for Liu Buwang. When she became Princess Meng Ji, she saw it but still didn’t regard Yushu as a threat.
So, it turned out they were in love with each other, while she had been overestimating herself all along.
What use was being Princess Meng Ji, a noble and delicate flower? In matters of the heart, she had been utterly defeated, without even a chance to compete. And she had held onto these feelings for so many years.
"Was it you who informed my father about what happened at the inn back then?" she asked.
Liu Buwang said, "Yes."
"When you left back then, did you ever intend to return?"
"Yes."
Mu Hongjin took a deep breath, as if trying to see things more clearly, to feel the pain more acutely, to uproot something from the depths of her heart and never look back. She asked, "Liu Buwang, did you never have any feelings for me?"
Liu Buwang’s beautiful eyes gazed at her, his expression as indifferent as a stranger’s. He uttered only one word: "Yes."
"So that’s how it is," she murmured, her eyes growing warm. Yet she forced a smile and said, "Since you love only your junior sister, does that mean you’re willing to do anything for her?"
Liu Buwang looked at her. "What do you want?"
Mu Hongjin’s fingers slowly traced his shoulder, her tone ambiguous and flirtatious. "Become my lover, and I’ll release her."From beginning to end, Liu Buwang remained calm, his expression showing no ripple of emotion. Only at this moment did he seem stung by something, swiftly stepping back to avoid Mu Hongjin's touch.
Mu Hongjin stiffened, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips, her tone deliberately disdainful: "What, unwilling? Being the Princess's lover is not a blessing everyone can have."
Liu Buwang stared fixedly at her. His white robes were spotless, the sword at his waist gleaming brightly. He was as pure and noble as when they first met. Such an ethereal, untainted person could never accept such humiliation.
Yet she insisted on humiliating him. Why was it that after all these years, she still held onto this resentment while he could act as if nothing had ever happened? What Liu Buwang could not do for her, he must never do for Yushu either.
Otherwise, what would she, Mu Hongjin, become? A touchstone to prove their true love?
Then, in the dimly lit temple, she saw Liu Buwang slowly kneel down and calmly reply, "Alright."
A sudden pain pierced Mu Hongjin's heart, nearly stealing her breath away.
What more was there to prove?
Enough, this was enough. She had asked clearly, and those doubts that had haunted her for years, the answers she had longed for but never received—whether good or bad, joyful or sorrowful—had now been given. The women of Jiyang dared to love and hate, could pick up and let go. As the Princess, she had her own pride. She had the entire city of Jiyang—how could she wallow in despair over a man?
It was nothing but a doomed entanglement.
She lifted her chin and said coldly, "But this Princess is unwilling."
"Someone like you does not deserve to stand by this Princess's side." Each word she spoke felt like carving a knife into her own heart. Even Mu Hongjin herself was surprised—how, in just one short month, had she developed such deep feelings for Liu Buwang? Now, as she severed this doomed bond with her own hands, she felt an overwhelming reluctance.
"Take your beloved and get out of Jiyang City," she said.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
His voice, as always, betrayed no emotion. Mu Hongjin's tears fell into the darkness.
"From now on, we go our separate ways. Liu Buwang, you and your junior sister are never to set foot in Jiyang City again. Otherwise, this Princess will kill you on sight."
The hem of her red robe cut through the night like a brilliant, dazzling streak of sunset glow. It was a clear boundary, marking the end of any connection between them. It was also like the petals beneath the peach blossom tree when they first met, covering the ground in a mesmerizing display, luring one into a spring dream from which they never wished to awaken.
But dreams always end.
She released Yushu and returned to the royal palace, pretending nothing had happened. She and her consort remained harmonious, their days peaceful and serene. Yet, even as they maintained appearances, her heart remained unsettled.
Years passed, and the King of Mengji passed away. Mu Hongjin gradually grew busier. A few more years later, her consort also died, and she poured all her energy into raising her young son.
Later still, her son passed away, leaving only Mu Xiaolou to rely on her.
Mu Xiaolou looked very much like her younger self. For this reason, she often doted on Mu Xiaolou, just as her father had doted on her when her elder brother was still alive. Mu Hongjin understood all too well that once one assumed the role of Princess, the bright, carefree girl who once sneaked out to play would eventually disappear. Before that happened, she wanted to cherish and protect that vibrant spirit for as long as possible.She hoped Mu Xiaolou could have her own story, rather than, like her, wasting many years in someone else's tale.
Apricot blossoms bloomed densely and vibrantly on the branches. A young lady wandering in the garden strayed deep into the grove of flowers and fell into a long, beautiful dream. The dream was filled with both joy and sorrow, fleeting yet seemingly spanning a lifetime.
Her spring had withered long ago.
Perhaps it had never truly arrived.
(End of Chapter)
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