The room was utterly silent, save for the occasional winter raven flapping its wings as it flew past the window, brushing against withered leaves and broken branches. The wind rustled, carrying snow, while moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a faint glow upon the floor, barely illuminating the flickering candle flame—ultimately a dim, yellowish light.
Yan Xun arrived very late. His sparse footsteps resembled the intermittent beats of a night watch drum, quietly approaching from afar. The maids kneeling in unison at the door pressed their knees into the snow, the sound of crushed snowflakes crisp and cold. Their youthful voices trembled with a mix of reverence and timidity as they faltered, "Your Highness, the young lady has already retired for the night."
The wind and snow seemed to suddenly intensify, faintly masking the unavoidable silence and awkwardness. Trees swayed, and the moonlight flickered uncertainly, casting only a faint gray shadow. Silently, it seeped through the window frames like a stagnant, pale pool. The gray shadow stood before the window, neither speaking nor leaving—slender yet upright. The crescent moon hung thin and curved in the dim light, rendering everything desolate. The chilly air squeezed in from outside the window but was instantly swallowed by the flames in the hearth.
"Did the young lady sleep well?"
A mellow voice sounded calmly, devoid of obvious joy or resentment at being barred entry. He merely asked quietly, adding, "Has the physician been to see her?"
"The young lady sustained some minor injuries, but they are not serious," the maid replied obediently.
"I see," Yan Xun responded, then inquired further, "What did she have for dinner?"
"She only drank half a small bowl of plain congee."
Yan Xun nodded silently. The shadow by the window carried a subtle, lingering coldness. "She might get hungry tonight. Keep some warm food prepared and stay alert. Don't fall into a deep sleep."
"This humble servant understands."
Yan Xun stood beneath the corridor, his figure solitary and bleak. The weather outside was bitterly cold, with wind and snow swirling on the ground, drifting back and forth. The hazy moonlight illuminated a vast expanse of whiteness. Standing at the center of that light, he lowered his head slightly and whispered toward the closed window, "A Chu, I'm leaving."
A gust of wind swept by, tousling the dark hair at his temples. Yan Xun turned and descended the steps, his footsteps light as he lifted them but heavy as they fell.
The sound of those outside gradually faded into the distance. Chu Qiao lay on her bed, the cold moon in the sky like a hook, seemingly unchanged from the one that had hung over the Holy Gold Palace many years ago. In the desolate Yingge Courtyard, crimson blood had once dripped between her fingers. Back then, the child's pitch-black eyes had sparkled like stars, the whites of her eyes tinged with red as she furrowed her brows. A chill had risen from the depths of her heart, lingering like lingering water. Time had passed, yet hearts had not faded away. And what had changed? Was it only him?
How much suffering had she endured? And who remembered it? By not speaking of it, she had almost convinced herself she had forgotten.
Suddenly, she grew restless. Throwing off the covers without even draping a robe over herself, she dashed barefoot out of the inner chamber. With a loud bang, she pulled the door open. A strong gust of wind whipped her disheveled black hair into a frenzy. The maids shrieked in unison, too late to stop the woman in a soft white gown from rushing out into the courtyard.
"Young lady!" The maids chased after her in panic, their voices so loud they startled the man walking ahead.But as he turned around, a slender figure suddenly threw herself into his arms with such force that Yan Xun staggered slightly, yet his face was filled with delight. However, the moment his hands touched her, he felt only thin clothing. Frowning slightly, he chided gently, "A Chu, why did you run out dressed so lightly?"
Chu Qiao did not speak, only wrapping her arms tightly around the man's waist and pressing her forehead firmly against his chest. The familiar scent lingered in her breath, so warm it nearly lulled her to sleep. Her eyes grew moist, and tears fell silently, soaking the fabric of his robe layer by layer.
She lifted her head, her eyes red, and gazed steadily at him. The man, in plain robes with long brows, still had that familiar face, yet it carried traces of weariness and fatigue. To suddenly withdraw from the frontlines and march back violated military principles—how much effort and energy must he have expended to return swiftly and safely to Yanbei? And what firm resolve must he have wielded to quell the discontent within the army? These were things she knew nothing about.
"You're back?"
Yan Xun smiled softly, the corners of his lips gentle, concealing all traces of exhaustion and hardship. He merely nodded quietly. "You are here. How could I not return?"
Vaguely, it seemed as if they had returned to that snowy night eight years ago, when the young man, still being pursued, led his troops back to rescue the little slave who had fallen into the hands of her former master. Faced with the child's questioning, he had only smiled and said, "If I didn't return, what would you do?"
Time flew by swiftly. Eight years had passed, and so much in this world had changed. Yet, only they remained, still standing together, still side by side, hand in hand.
Suddenly, she felt herself lifted into the air. Yan Xun frowned slightly and looked down at Chu Qiao in his arms. "A Chu, why have you grown so thin?"
Chu Qiao tilted her head back, her fingers lightly clutching Yan Xun's lapel, and whispered, "Because I missed you."
Yan Xun's expression faltered slightly—he was not unmoved. Over the years, even as they relied on each other, such words were rare. Warmth gradually enveloped him, like scalding water. Wrapping Chu Qiao in his cloak, he chuckled softly, "I've grown thinner too."
The servants breathed sighs of relief, and the wind and snow had ceased. Yan Xun carried Chu Qiao and strode into the room. After days of military campaigns and the need to coordinate the pursuit of Xia troops and internal city defenses upon his return, affairs were complex and countless. Despite his longing, he could only come to her late at night like this. Removing his outer cloak, his inner robes were covered in dust. He ordered the servants to prepare hot water, and the two sat facing each other in the room, a thousand words unspoken, unsure where to begin.
"A Chu…"
"Don't say it!" Chu Qiao quickly stopped him, her voice slightly hoarse as if unwilling to bring it up. "It's enough that you came back."
The lamplight fell on the girl's pale face, and Yan Xun suddenly felt a chill in his heart. How much suffering had she endured these days?
"In the end, I still deceived you. I'm sorry."
"Haven't I threatened you too?" Chu Qiao smiled faintly. "At that time, I truly thought: I'll stay here and refuse to leave, just to see if you would return."
Yan Xun nodded with a smile. "Since we were young, in every argument with you, I've never won once."Daxia conscripted troops and launched a massive assault, while Beishuo retaliated with thunderous force. Yan Xun led his army deep into Daxia's heartland. In the midst of it all, countless lives were lost to the flames of war, countless others met untimely ends, and innumerable soldiers would never again see their beloved families back home. Blood soaked the earth, and bleached bones piled high as mountains. Yet this battle, significant enough to alter the fate of the entire continent, was discussed between them in just a few light, casual words.
"A Chu, I have something for you."
Hot water was brought in, poured bucket by bucket into the large bathing pool. Chu Qiao stood by the edge testing the temperature with her hand. Hearing Yan Xun's words, she turned to ask, "What is it?"
It was a simple, understated ring, devoid of ornate designs. Crafted from white jade, it bore a band of delicate patterns that, upon closer inspection, revealed simple plum blossom motifs.
"When did you buy this?"
"I don't remember." Many years ago, probably. After occasionally hearing her mention the customs and traditions of her homeland, he had taken to carving that Hetian jade in his spare time. One year, two years, three years, five years—it had long been finished, yet he never mustered the courage to give it to her. Back then, he was too insignificant, possessing nothing but hatred. So he kept waiting and waiting, hoping for the right moment and place, until gradually so many years had passed.
Without a second thought, she slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand, held it up, gazed at it foolishly, and smiled. "It's really beautiful."
The curtains fell, and Yan Xun bathed inside while Chu Qiao waited outside, just as they had many years before. When one of them bathed, it was always when their guard was lowest, so they had grown accustomed to one keeping watch while the other washed.
Layer upon layer of curtains hung, scented with a pleasant fragrance. Though there was no wind in the room, the curtains swayed gently. Yan Xun's voice came from within, "A Chu, the face towel."
Chu Qiao quickly picked up the white face towel, reached her arm through the curtains, and their fingertips brushed lightly. It felt scalding hot, and she hastily withdrew her hand, asking with slight embarrassment, "Is the water hot?"
"Not too bad."
The sound of splashing water echoed. Chu Qiao sat outside, chin in hand, as they chatted intermittently.
"Yan Xun, were you injured this time?"
"No, I didn't go to the front lines."
Steam gradually spread from inside, warming the room.
"Why did Huai Song cooperate with our military exercises at the border? Do you know their Eldest Princess?"
The man replied, "We've only met a few times; I wouldn't say I know her. But I have a friend in Huai Song who helped mediate the matter."
"Oh, I see."
"A Chu, are your injuries serious? Where are you hurt?"
"It's nothing important, just some minor scratches."
The room gradually grew quiet. After a long while, Chu Qiao suddenly spoke up, "Yan Xun, from now on, you mustn't keep things from me."
There was no response from inside. Chu Qiao waited a long time but heard nothing. Unable to resist, she called out twice more, "Yan Xun?"
Still no answer. Growing anxious, she lifted the curtains and rushed in barefoot. There, she found Yan Xun sitting in the pool, head resting against the edge, fast asleep. His brows were lightly furrowed, his face full of exhaustion.
After five days and nights without rest, he was truly worn out. Only now, having shed all his worries and defenses, could he finally sleep like this.Suddenly, all resentment vanished without a trace. How could right and wrong be clearly distinguished with just a single sentence? The flowing blood on the Nine Nether Terrace, the heart-pounding tension within the silent palace—she had accompanied him through it all. She was not unaware of the depth of that enmity, not ignorant of the intensity of that hatred. The vow "Survive, and kill them all!" still echoed in her ears. Countless jeers and insults, countless hidden arrows and scornful glances, countless humiliations and resentments—all were like seeds of slaughter, deeply planted in their hearts from the very beginning. Toppling the towering gates of the Holy Gold Palace, shattering the lofty walls of Zhenhuang City—what temptation and power lay in that? Yet, in the end, he had turned his army back because of a single sentence from her. How could she not understand the depth of affection in that?
Days of conviction had now transformed into a struggle of emotions—resentment, regret, joy, sorrow, unresolved feelings, yet also gratitude. She had been torn between two opposing emotions until, just moments ago, when he softly whispered and turned to leave, she suddenly grasped the truth within her heart.
The setting sun, warhorses, military blades, the shouts of soldiers, the screams of civilians—war devoured everything, including people's beliefs and conscience. Yet, in the end, it could not devour the bond between them.
She had not gained the trust of the one she served loyally. She had staked everything on defending the city, and countless soldiers had lost their lives for it. Rivers of blood stained the land, bones scattered like drifting leaves. As a commander, she should feel resentment and hatred, thick with indignation and unwillingness. But as a woman, she had received a love weightier than mountains. Between empire and beauty, between ambition and mutual devotion, he had given her a definitive answer in an instant. What right did she have to feel unwilling or resentful?
When she awoke, Chu Qiao was sleeping beside him, her forehead smooth, her small body curled up, still tightly clutching his hand. Outside, it was still dark. Yan Xun stood by the window in a loose robe. Beyond lay a thousand snow-covered mountains—still the sky and land of Yanbei, where even the wind was bitingly cold. This place remained barren and frigid, seemingly unchanged. Even when his father had implemented benevolent policies, life here had remained poor and difficult. So why had he always stubbornly imagined Yanbei as a place of birdsong, fragrant flowers, and abundant beauty?
Perhaps, just as Miss Yu had said, he had changed. His heart had grown larger, his vision broader, and the things he desired had multiplied. Beyond revenge, something deeply rooted had taken hold within him. He had always thought this was not wrong—years of experience had taught him the importance of power and strength. Without these, everything would be like a bird without wings, unable to fly.
But now, he suddenly felt a chilling fear.
He had nearly caused her death. The thought made his hair stand on end, filling him with cold dread.
Gazing into the pitch-black outside, he seemed to see again the vast lands east of the Chishui River. He could still recall that morning when he pointed his troops toward Wild Goose Cry Pass—how confident and fervent he had been. What a pity. Yet, Daxia still stood there, and if he had returned just one day later, what would have become of A Chu? He took a deep breath. Thankfully...Her fingers felt cold, the bed was empty. Opening her eyes, she immediately saw Yan Xun's back standing by the window—dark and somewhat heavy.
"Yan Xun?"
She called softly, her voice still hazy with sleepiness. The man turned around, his eyes gleaming with an indistinguishable light in the darkness, making it impossible to discern the emotions within.
"You're awake."
"Mhm, what are you thinking about?"
Yan Xun walked over, gently embracing her, and said lightly, "Nothing much."
Chu Qiao pressed her face against his chest, listening to his steady and powerful heartbeat through the thin fabric of his clothes. It seemed only at this moment that she truly felt he had returned.
"Yan Xun, do you regret it?"
Yan Xun's eyes were dark, his arm tightening slightly. "No."
"Will you regret it in the future?"
Yan Xun fell silent. Chu Qiao's heart gradually grew cold, her muscles tensing. After a long while, she heard him whisper, "I regret returning so late."
Her nose suddenly tingled with emotion. Chu Qiao buried her head deeper against him, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips tightly together.
What more could she ask for? One shouldn't be too self-centered. Even if they were together day and night, how much of his suffering could she truly share? How much could she understand of the grief from his family's tragic death or the hatred accumulated over years? As long as he still remembered her, still cared for her, still considered her feelings—that was enough.
"Yan Xun, from now on, you mustn't hide things from me."
"Mhm," Yan Xun nodded. "Alright."
Chu Qiao drifted back into sleep, her dreams warm and sweet. Someone was holding her hand, so firmly it felt as if they would never let go. Hazily, she thought she'd had this dream before. Where was it? Ah, in Biantang—that warm and beautiful place, full of blooming flowers. Yet she felt it wasn't as warm as Yanbei. Standing on this land, her heart was moist and warm, even as rugged mountains and snowy plains lay beyond.
When she woke the next day, Yan Xun was already gone. Chu Qiao wondered why she had slept so long when Jing Zisu suddenly entered, smiling, and said, "Yue'er, wash your face."
Chu Qiao stood up and hurried over to take the washbasin. "Sister Zisu, you don't need to do these things."
Jing Zisu smiled kindly. "I don't know how to do much else."
After washing her face, Chu Qiao noticed Jing Zisu standing hesitantly before her and asked, "Sister Zisu, do you have something to say?"
"It's... it's nothing."
Chu Qiao chuckled and pretended to leave. "In that case, I'll go attend to my duties?"
"Wait!" Jing Zisu quickly grabbed her. Seeing Chu Qiao smiling at her, she blushed and slowly said, "It's just... His Highness sent this earlier."
Chu Qiao looked and saw a thick stack of white paper. She took it and couldn't help but laugh. "I thought it was something serious. So it's about finding you a match."
Chu Qiao casually flipped through the papers and noticed Yan Xun had gathered information about civil officials and military clerks, mostly from the Second Army. She immediately understood his intention and felt touched. The peace in Yanbei was only temporary; Yan Xun was afraid that military officers might end up on the battlefield, and if anything happened, it would ruin the Jing sisters' futures.
"This is wonderful, Sister Zisu. You're at the age to find a match."Jing Zisu's face flushed red, and after fidgeting for a while, she finally said, "Yue'er, do you really not understand?"
Chu Qiao was taken aback and asked, "What?"
"If us three elder sisters don't marry, you can't get married either."
Upon hearing this, Chu Qiao froze, standing there foolishly. Jing Zisu looked at her with a smile, reached out, and tapped her cheek, chuckling, "Silly girl, His Highness and you really have endless worries."
The weather outside was lovely, with bright sunshine. Chu Qiao remained dazed for a long time when suddenly, the sound of firecrackers erupted outside. Someone rushed in joyfully to report, "Miss, Mr. Wu and Miss Yu have entered the city."
Jing Zisu clasped her hands together and said, "Amitabha, peace has finally come. Yanbei won't be at war anymore."
Chu Qiao felt a gentle calm settle in her heart.
Peace is truly wonderful.
————Break————
The next update will be at the same time tomorrow.
OpenNovel