Zhuge Yue had always been a methodical planner. Once he decided on something, he would unhurriedly devise a comprehensive course of action and then implement it step by step. No matter what happened, nothing could change his mind.
So in the following moments, he took a bath, changed his clothes, and examined himself in the mirror. The man reflected there had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, strikingly handsome and dignified, exuding an air of heroic vigor. He felt quite satisfied with himself. Then, feeling a bit nervous, he sat down and picked up a teacup to drink.
The tea had already cooled. The blue-and-white porcelain cup rested between his slender fingers, and the light seemed to pierce through the thin ceramic, like the first ice of early winter.
Leaning back in his chair, he meticulously rehearsed what he would say and do later, sentence by sentence, with great care. He then envisioned various scenarios, pondering how the other party might respond and how he should react, how to gradually steer the conversation, create an ambiguous atmosphere, and seize the initiative—all while making it appear natural and seamless.
Alright, everything was set.
He put down the cup and stood up, but just as his fingers touched the door, it was pushed open from the outside.
Chu Qiao stood at the doorway, still wearing her beige dress. The warm corridor light fell on her petite face, casting a gentle glow.
She was holding a bowl, steam still rising from it. Tilting her head up, her clear black-and-white eyes scanned him up and down, and she frowned slightly in puzzlement, asking, "It's late at night. Why are you dressed up like this? Where are you going?"
What was this situation? Zhuge Yue was momentarily taken aback—it seemed to be outside his plan.
But Young Master Zhuge's adaptability was quite good. He immediately replied with a straight face, "I slept too much during the day and don't feel tired now. I thought I'd go out for a walk."
"The closer we get to the north, the colder it gets. The wind is strong at night, and you're dressed so lightly. It's better not to wander around."
Chu Qiao walked straight into the room, placed the soup bowl on the table, and beckoned to him, "I noticed you didn't eat much earlier. Come over and have this porridge."
Zhuge Yue approached and saw it was a plain bowl of white porridge. He shot her a sidelong glance and said, "Trying to fob me off with something like this?"
Chu Qiao glared at him, "You should be grateful you have anything to eat at all. Stop being so picky."
With that, she walked up to him, patted his head as if he were a little dog, and said very seriously, "Finish your meal and go to bed early. No wandering outside."
Then, she turned and strode away.
Zhuge Yue was instantly stunned. What was going on? His plan had been interrupted, the prey had come to him on its own, yet he had let her swagger off?
And what was this about drinking porridge?
He stood up and walked out of the room.
Since they needed to conceal their whereabouts, the ship wasn't very large, and the corridor was quite narrow, barely wide enough for one person. The lamplight fell on his tall figure, clad in a moon-white robe adorned with warm cloud patterns, making him look elegantly transcendent under the glow.He walked slowly, step by step, as the boat swayed gracefully on the vast, misty river. It reminded him of that spring rain many years ago, when he stood on the riverbank watching a boat drift farther and farther away. The world was dim and cold then, yet the flame beside him burned fiercely, never extinguished, holding his gaze from childhood through his growth, all the way to this day.
Suddenly, a soft singing voice reached him. His footsteps paused slightly as he approached her door. It wasn't fully closed, allowing warm light to spill through the crack. Standing at the doorway, he could hear the woman's gentle singing mingled with an infant's babbling.
Under two soft orange lanterns, Chu Qiao's white skirt trailed on the floor, her sleeves rolled up high as she knelt beside an ebony basin, bathing Li Ce's youngest son.
Rong'er was quite chubby. Though still very young, his features already mirrored his father's—narrow eyes that curved upward at the corners, resembling the sly, peach-blossom eyes of a fox. When he laughed, the whites of his eyes nearly disappeared.
Now sitting in the ebony basin, he held a string of small bells that jingled clearly with each movement. The child splashed water rhythmically, drenching Chu Qiao. Whenever she exclaimed and dodged, he would clap his hands and giggle with delight.
"Be good, Rong'er. No mischief."
Chu Qiao tried to reason with the child, but he paid no heed. His plump little legs kicked wildly, splashing more than half the water out of the basin.
"Don't be so naughty. Even your father wasn't this troublesome."
Chu Qiao's upper body was completely soaked, her clothes dripping wet. Rong'er tilted his head back, babbling as if arguing with her.
"Look at you—where's the dignity of a prince?"
"Yiyi yaya wuwu oohooh @#$&X%￥@&…"
"One word from me, and you talk back?"
"￥#%@&%￥@#…"
"Shall I sing for you?"
The child blinked, staring up at her while his chubby hands clutched the fabric at her neck, desperately trying to climb out. His actions clearly expressed his dislike for baths and complete disinterest in her singing.
Yet Chu Qiao seemed not to notice. Inspired, she patted his head and said, "I'm going to sing now. Listen carefully."
"￥%#…&&%￥
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away."
"Yiyi ￥#@% ya &%￥&%￥
The tender singing voice drifted through the air like a soothing lullaby. The warm lantern light cast a soft, circular glow around them. The woman in the white dress knelt on the floor, her long hair cascading over her slender shoulders, while the ebony basin held a plump, fair-skinned child.The woman sang with great emotion, but the child in the basin was completely unappreciative. They grabbed each other's hands and feet—those inside desperately trying to climb out while those outside fiercely pressed them down—yet the song that escaped her lips was exceptionally gentle. No one could understand what she was singing; her pronunciation now somewhat resembled Rong'er's, both uttering strange sounds. Yet through the gentle melody, one could almost sense the emotions in the song—like a loving mother, or even more like a deeply affectionate lover.
With a thud, the small basin finally tipped over, and Rong'er crawled out naked, laughing triumphantly. His eyes curved into crescents, exactly like his father's.
The room was in disarray, and Chu Qiao's dress was already soaked. She seemed somewhat dazed, staring at the child as if seeing Li Ce through him. She glared angrily and said, "Even after leaving, he had to leave behind such a troublemaker to torment me."
Rong'er giggled, wriggling his plump little bottom as he crawled toward the door. Just as Chu Qiao reached out to stop him, her eyes fell upon the man leaning casually against the doorframe.
He seemed to have been standing there for a long time. The corridor's lamplight cast a halo over his handsome face. His gaze was profound, his skin fair—not the pallor of a frail scholar, but the fair complexion of nobility, like fine Hetian jade. Leaning lazily against the doorframe, he watched her with interest, his expression a mix of nonchalance and mischief. Though his lips weren't smiling, his eyes already held a hint of amusement.
For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
She thought she must have been bewitched by his good looks.
Rong'er wobbled left and right on his chubby little bottom as he crawled to the door. Spotting the uninvited guest, he tilted his head back ninety degrees, initially intending to bark arrogantly like a dog relying on its master's authority. But perhaps realizing he wasn't even as tall as the other's boots, he wisely decided to keep quiet.
He sat there for a moment, deep in thought, glancing back at Chu Qiao, then looking up at Zhuge Yue, before turning to eye his small cradle by the bed. The child waged an intense internal struggle. Finally, he let out a sound resembling a sigh, tugged at Zhuge Yue's robe, and pointed at the string of small green jade swords hanging from his waist, babbling excitedly.
Zhuge Yue had specifically worn these tonight to match his outfit. Under the light, they gleamed with a translucent emerald hue. He unfastened them and handed them to the child.
Rong'er first put them in his mouth and gnawed twice. Since he likely hadn't grown teeth yet, he couldn't taste anything, so he clutched them tightly in his hand and crawled out the door.
The chubby child wobbled left and right as he crawled to the room adjacent to Chu Qiao's. Sitting on the floor, he kicked the door boldly with his short legs.
Mei Xiang sleepily opened the door, exclaimed happily upon seeing him, and quickly picked him up. Feeling puzzled, she peered toward Chu Qiao's room. Suddenly noticing Zhuge Yue, her pretty face flushed red, her expression brightening. She gave Young Master Zhuge a knowing nod, then carried the child back into her room.
Just like that, the troublesome little one was dispatched.
Zhuge Yue thought to himself, That little rascal might be annoying, but when it comes to these matters, he's just as perceptive as his father.He walked in as if it were his own room, calmly closing the door behind him before slowly approaching Chu Qiao. Looking down at her, he extended a hand and said, "Aren’t you getting up?"
Chu Qiao felt a little awkward and frowned in frustration. What was wrong with her? Was she truly bewitched by his good looks?
She didn’t take his hand, intending to stand up on her own. But as soon as she moved, her legs gave way beneath her. The floor was slippery, and with a startled cry, she fell again before she could even straighten up.
The expected pain never came. Zhuge Yue, quick as lightning, wrapped an arm around her waist. His warm palm pressed against the skin at her waist. Her soaked clothing did little to conceal her delicate curves; instead, it clung to her, lending an air of seductive allure.
Having crouched for too long, her legs had gone numb. Zhuge Yue lifted her and placed her on the bed. Her hair was drenched, dripping steadily, and her clothes were soaked through, as if she were the one who had just been held down in a basin of water.
Zhuge Yue picked up a quilt and draped it over her, standing in front of her to pull it snugly around her. "Don’t catch a cold," he said.
The lamplight in the room cast a suggestive glow, faintly illuminating his face with a hazy, unreal quality. He took a dry cotton cloth and wrapped it around her hair. A man like him actually stood before her, carefully drying her hair strand by strand, yet saying nothing all the while.
Chu Qiao’s palms grew sweaty. The room suddenly felt unbearably hot. Wrapped in the thick quilt, sweat trickled down her damp clothes, making her skin feel sticky and the quilt warm and humid. A few strands of hair fell across her forehead, obscuring her vision. Through the hair, she could only see the faint cloud patterns on his moon-white robe, swirling round and round, dizzying to the eyes.
"What song were you singing earlier?" Zhuge Yue suddenly asked, his voice gentle and smooth, tinged with a husky masculinity that was pleasing to the ear. It echoed softly in the air, striking her eardrums.
She lifted her head and saw his face—unbelievably handsome. The scent of him was comforting, making her feel so at ease she could fall asleep.
When she didn’t answer, Zhuge Yue raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, "Xing’er?"
"You are my sunshine."
Zhuge Yue was taken aback. "Your native tongue?"
"Yes," Chu Qiao replied honestly.
"Sing it for me."
His voice tonight seemed to hold a certain magic, making her reluctant to bicker with him as usual. She took two slow, deep breaths, and her clear, gentle voice drifted softly through the air, like the first spring raindrops quietly falling into a lotus pond, stirring tiny ripples.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey."
The song seemed to grow wings, drifting softly through the memories of bygone years.From their first meeting to their shared struggles through life's battles, existence was like a field of wild grass where one never knew where traps lay hidden or where a sudden turn might bring new life. He stood before her, drying her hair, his slender fingers running through her dark locks like ripples stirring the waters of time. The fabric of his clothes was so soft, and as she rested her head against his waist, she softly sang a song she had loved in her previous life.
"You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,
Please don’t take my sunshine away."
The room was so warm it reminded her of many years ago, back in St. Luan Orphanage.
The director was a veteran who had fought in the eight-year War of Resistance and served on the Korean battlefield. He had lost a leg in combat but managed to blow up an American plane. After retiring, he used his pension to return to his hometown and open an orphanage, dedicated to taking in children without parents. Unlike most orphans, she was fortunate—she had a wonderful grandfather. Later, he supported her education and called in favors to get her into military school, where she enlisted, served, and dedicated herself to protecting the homeland.
She lived up to her grandfather’s expectations, growing steadily stronger. With excellent grades, a sharp mind, and a kind, upright character, she gradually advanced into the military district, entered the command center, and joined the National Military Intelligence Department. Life seemed like a well-paved, broad road, and she walked it smoothly without a hitch.
From a very young age, her grandfather had taught her that as a soldier, one must be loyal to the sovereign and love the country, protect the nation, safeguard the people, and defend the vulnerable. He told her countless military stories, instilling in her the values of integrity and moral principles, the meaning and rules of survival. Like a young sapling, she grew up under his care. She still remembered how happy he was when she received her first commendation for completing a mission. His wrinkles trembled in the sunlight, his chest shaking with laughter as he hugged her, joyfully calling her his good granddaughter.
Those were the happiest days of her life—having a loved one who cherished her most in the world, and the warmest embrace anyone could ask for.
Her grandfather had studied abroad in England in his youth and spoke excellent English. He taught her the language, Western etiquette, and how to waltz.
Left, right, left, right, sidestep, close three-step, turn…
And the songs he taught her:
"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping,
I dreamed I held you in my arms.
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,
Please don’t take my sunshine away."
Suddenly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Zhuge Yue’s waist. The shadows of the candlelight swirled like halos, dancing and whirling in the corners of the room, drifting and swaying like stars, brushing past the window. The boat rocked gently on the water, the mountains on both banks speeding by, and faintly, it seemed you could hear the sound of the wind blowing past.
"Xing'er," Zhuge Yue lowered his head and asked, "what do the lyrics of this song mean?"For some reason, Chu Qiao suddenly felt her face flush. She lowered her head without speaking.
Warm breath wafted from above, and his chest vibrated slightly. Chu Qiao knew he was laughing—silently, but she just knew.
"That was lovely."
Zhuge Yue crouched down, looking directly at her with a smile. "I really liked it."
Chu Qiao couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, deflecting instead: "Why are you here? It's so late."
"I'm thinking of someone, and it's keeping me awake."
He suddenly said such words, leaving Chu Qiao momentarily stunned and speechless.
"That person is beautiful, adorable, just a bit clumsy. If I don't keep a close eye on her, she might hurt herself. She gets lost easily, wanders off, and could be taken by others. Even when I'm near her, I can't rest easy. If I don't check on her, I worry so much I can't sleep."
Chu Qiao's face burned red. Like a thief, she secretly glanced at Zhuge Yue and murmured, "Who could be that clumsy?"
"Even more clumsy than I described," Zhuge Yue's eyes sparkled as he laughed brightly. "But I don't know how that fellow Li Ce managed to raise such an endearing child, making me worry so much about her."
Chu Qiao froze, suddenly realizing she'd been tricked. She raised her fist to hit him, but Zhuge Yue caught it firmly.
His hand was large and warm, completely enveloping her fist.
She never knew his hands were so strong—strong enough that she couldn't move an inch.
He slowly leaned closer, his eyes like dark, unfathomable pools where turbulent waves churned unseen.
His voice was low and husky as he whispered in her ear, "This is your punishment for being mischievous during the day."
Then he lowered his head to kiss her lips. She grew extremely nervous. Though she had lived two lifetimes and was no stranger to kisses, for some reason, every time she faced him, she would become a complete mess, not even knowing where to put her hands and feet.
But after waiting with closed eyes for what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. She cautiously cracked open her eyes just a slit and saw him smiling at her under the lamplight. Noticing her peeking, he leaned in, his warm breath brushing her face, and said, "Were you waiting for me to kiss you?"
"Zhuge Yue!" Chu Qiao pushed him angrily. "You're bullying me!"
Suddenly, he embraced her—so unexpectedly, so forcefully—that the quilt covering her and the cloth over her head were sent flying.
He turned her face toward him and kissed her fiercely, holding her tightly as if trying to press her into his very being. His kiss was cool, while her face burned hot. His breathing was heavy, his arm wrapped around her waist, their bodies pressed so close that their skin could feel each other's heartbeat.
One beat, two beats, three beats...
"Chu Qiao,"
He looked at her, suddenly calling her name, his eyes blazing as if set aflame. Unblinking, he said firmly, "Marry me."Chu Qiao froze instantly. The lamplight fell upon Zhuge Yue's face, half illuminated and half shrouded in shadow, making him appear somewhat unreal. Her ears seemed to be playing tricks on her; she felt flustered, wanting to say something but unsure how to respond after opening her mouth.
"Xing'er," he called her again, his gaze steady.
Her head felt dizzy as she replied, "Hmm?"
"I love you."
Like a bomb exploding overhead, Chu Qiao felt her face burn and her body rapidly heat up. Her thoughts solidified like cement mixed with water, freezing instantly. She stared at him blankly, a mix of joy and panic pounding fiercely in her chest. Chu Qiao pressed a hand over it, as if to keep it from leaping out.
"I’ve loved you for a long time. Did you know?"
He asked her so calmly, as if they were discussing someone else’s affairs, without a trace of awkwardness or panic.
Chu Qiao nodded. "I know."
"And you?" His eyes were too bright; Chu Qiao felt she might suffocate.
Summoning all her courage, she whispered, "Me too."
But he wouldn’t let her off, smiling as he asked, "You too, what?"
The boat was truly small, Chu Qiao thought to herself at that moment. Why was the room so cramped and so hot? She could barely breathe.
"Speak." He leaned in domineeringly, gently pinching her delicate chin as he said, "You are also what?"
"I also—" Chu Qiao clenched her fist tightly, countless scenes rushing toward her from across mountains and rivers: "I also love you."
I also love you...
The voice was so soft, instantly piercing through the night's darkness and illuminating the smile on his face. He kissed her forehead and asked, "Since when?"
Since when?
She didn't know. Perhaps it was during their reunion at the foot of Xizhao Mountain, or maybe it was that glance in the fading lantern lights at the Xianyang Lantern Festival, or the repeated urgings of "survive" beneath the Thousand Zhang Lake.
Or perhaps, it was from long, long ago—that embrace in the Meishan Imperial Tomb, the accidental intimacy in Wupeng City, the tacit understanding and mutual support during their journey fighting side by side, or that tearful rescue from Zhao Chun'er in Tang Capital City.
Or maybe tracing back over a decade, to a room filled with the fragrance of orchids, where a stubborn youth used a pure white handkerchief to wipe away her tears and sniffles—just like that, bit by bit, willfully, obstinately, savagely, he entered her heart.
Without greeting, without asking if she was willing.
"I don't know."
She reached out to smooth his slightly furrowed brows, dissatisfied as they were. "Maybe it was long, long ago, so long that I myself don't know. I can't pinpoint which time it was."
Leaning against his chest, she whispered softly, "Maybe it was many times, accumulating bit by bit. I can't remember."
"What a fool."
He held her, suddenly laughing as he said, "Actually, I don't know either."
Yes, perhaps it was just like that. No one knew which moment it was. Love always comes quietly, and by the time you notice it, it's already deeply rooted.
He lowered his head to kiss her, kissing her lips, cheeks, earlobes, and neck, slowly spreading, kissing her delicate collarbone.
Chu Qiao's body grew increasingly soft, gradually leaning into him. Zhuge Yue's body grew burning hot, his hand at her waist slowly moving upward, spreading like a raging fire, gradually consuming her last shreds of rationality.
"Ah!"
Chu Qiao suddenly gasped in surprise. The world spun around her as she was lifted and pressed horizontally onto the bed.
Her clothes were already half-soaked, making little difference whether she wore them or not.
He simply looked at her, his brows slightly furrowed as if pondering something, yet his gaze was scorching.
Heavy breaths sounded by her ear, moist lips enveloping her small earlobe, sending an electric shiver through her. The ties at her collar were deftly undone, revealing the small undergarment inside—off-white with a pale yellow bird embroidered on it.
Her rounded shoulders were exposed to the air, feeling slightly cool. Slender fingers lightly brushed over them, stirring tremors of softness. Moving sideways, his pinky flicked, and the necktie came loose with a swift motion, causing her clothes to slip down. Startled, Chu Qiao instinctively grabbed them, only to be met with a short, soft chuckle from above.
"Shy?"
Chu Qiao struggled to free herself from his embrace, foolishly pointing at the candle by the bed. Her voice was hoarse and pitiful as she cried out, "Blow out the lamp."Zhuge Yue suddenly broke into a silent laugh, maintaining his usual demeanor as he turned away without making a sound, yet the upward curve of his lips was unmistakable.
The surroundings were utterly still, save for the occasional rustle of waterfowl skimming the river surface outside, their wings fluttering intermittently.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, "Don't be afraid."
The silk was smooth, and as his kiss descended, it left her momentarily dazed and breathless. A tingling sensation prickled across her skin, her body gradually growing feverish. Layer by layer, her garments were shed, revealing a shy, delicate form.
Smooth and snow-white, like polished jade carved with divine craftsmanship—it was a territory no one had ever trespassed upon, swaying with youthful vitality and tenderness. He gently covered her, skin against skin, like a blazing fire igniting strand by strand.
Her breath was completely swallowed, her face pressed against his shoulder blade, where she abruptly caught sight of that ferocious wound. A chill ran through her body, causing her to shiver involuntarily.
Sensing it, he quickly covered her eyes with his hand and murmured, "Don't look."
But she pulled his hand away, instead reaching out trembling arms to encircle his shoulders. The soft skin of her cheek pressed tightly against his wound as tears streamed down, meandering over the dark red scar.
Zhuge Yue silently drew her into his embrace, saying nothing, merely watching quietly as she wept.
On the day Li Ce was buried, she had vowed never to shed tears again. Yet now, gazing at the scars on his body, at the places she had wounded time and again, she was overwhelmed with sorrow. She held him tightly, as if afraid he would vanish the moment she loosened her grip—just like that frozen lake long ago, where letting go had meant losing sight of him forever.
"Zhuge Yue, I'm sorry," she sobbed.
"Silly," Zhuge Yue kissed her cloud-like hair and chuckled softly. "You've ruined my looks—you have to take responsibility."
Chu Qiao knew he was teasing, but between sobs, she retorted, "The wound... is on your shoulder, it doesn't... doesn't count as ruining your looks."
Zhuge Yue gave a low laugh, his dark pupils deep as abysses, bottomless, reflecting only her faint, lotus-like shadow. His warm lips gently kissed away the tears on her cheeks as he whispered, "I don't care—you have to take responsibility."
His arms were so strong they almost hurt her, yet within that pain, she felt immense joy, as if immersed in an ocean of happiness.
How wonderful it was to have this day. There had been times when she thought everything had ended abruptly, buried in the icy lake waters, with no chance of return.
Their intimacy deepened, fine beads of sweat tracing paths from their foreheads. Surrounded by the emerald river waves, no human voices could be heard. Time seemed to stand still, the wind ceasing to blow, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of splendor. An involuntary moan escaped her lips as pain arched her body, a warm, metallic scent trickling between her legs, dotted with bright red like cinnabar.
His movements suddenly froze, a flicker of disbelief crossing his brow. Then, he gazed deeply at her, as if peering through layers of mist, seeking confirmation from distant lights to guide his way forward.Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and red. She clutched her nightgown, nervously covering her chest. When she noticed him looking over, she froze, not uttering a word.
He suddenly laughed—Chu Qiao had never seen him laugh like this. At first, it was just a slight curl of his lips, but gradually, the laughter grew audible, louder and louder, startling Chu Qiao so much that she hurriedly reached out her small hand to cover his mouth.
But he abruptly buried his head in the crook of her neck, whispering softly, "Xing'er, I'm so happy."
Her slender arms wrapped around his waist. His figure was so perfect, like a CK jeans model on television. In the darkness, she grinned with joy. The pair of red candles had gradually burned out, their wax dripping in winding trails. She smiled to herself, thinking, This is my wedding night.
Across so many people, so many events, so much time—national enmity, family grudges, life and death separations, time and space, past and present lives—step by step, they had still reached this day.
Burying her face in his shoulder, she wept freely.
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