That autumn slipped away gently amidst such sweetness and joy. Though autumn leaves withered and fell, golden chrysanthemums bloomed in clusters, adorning the splendid Sima Mansion with even greater magnificence. Days passed swiftly like spring streams in March, trickling through one's fingers yet leaving behind the fragrance of spring and lingering hope in the palm.
On the day of the Autumn Festival, Chu Qiao accompanied Zhuge Yue out of the mansion to visit Xiangzhi Mountain thirty li away, and also paid respects at Anyuan Temple on the mountain.
Although Chu Qiao had lived in Zhenhuang City for seven or eight years, she had hardly visited any famous historical sites around the imperial city. Firstly, her status hadn't permitted it back then, and secondly, she hadn't been in the right frame of mind. But now that circumstances had changed completely, she set her heart at ease. The weather that day was exceptionally fine—clear and bright with a cool breeze that felt refreshing. Dressed in a moon-white pleated satin dress with a long velvet cloak, Chu Qiao led a boisterous group of attendants who were thrilled about the outing, setting off in a grand procession.
Xiangzhi Mountain stood due south of Zhenhuang, rising abruptly from the plains with its peak perpetually covered in snow like a reclining dragon, solitary and majestic. The mountainside was covered with maple forests, now blazing crimson as far as the eye could see, creating splendid scenery. As it was the Autumn Festival, wealthy families from Zhenhuang City flocked there for outings, filling the area with crowds, laughter, and lively chatter.
Ascending Xiangzhi Mountain and immersing themselves in the layered red maples, they were greeted with breathtaking beauty. Jingjing and Ping An led the way with Mo'er, shouting and chasing each other playfully. He Xiao, Duoji, and the Moon Guards protected them on both sides, while Yue Qi brought Xiao Fei along, giving this devoted wife and mother a holiday during the festival.
Zhuge Yue held Chu Qiao's hand as they climbed upward, occasionally engaging in scholarly banter and laughter with the group. The young master rarely appeared so cheerful and approachable, so everyone gladly joined in the fun, surrounding them like stars encircling the moon. Passersby couldn't help but glance sideways, wondering which noble family was traveling.
Zhuge Yue had been extremely busy. As the Minister of War of Daxia and the feudal lord of Qinghai, he was increasingly becoming the decision-maker of the Zhuge clan. Juggling multiple responsibilities, he handled both military and administrative affairs while constantly guarding against attacks from Zhao Yang and Yanbei. Though he returned to the mansion punctually every day to dine and chat with Chu Qiao, resting with her each night, she often woke late to find him gone. Peering out the window, she would see the study lamp burning through the night.
At such times, she pretended not to notice, calmly returning to bed until the next morning, when she would ask with a smile how he had slept, watching him reply with dark circles under his eyes that he had slept wonderfully.
His health wasn't as robust as he pretended. Having survived severe injuries and prolonged submersion in water years ago, his survival was nothing short of miraculous. As the weather grew colder, his ailments became more apparent.
Each autumn rain brought deeper chills. On overcast or rainy days, his complexion would worsen. Sometimes, waking at midnight, she could hear his low, suppressed breathing and see fine beads of cold sweat on the nape of his neck, his sleeping robes soaked through and clinging softly to his spine.At such times, she could never say anything, only lying in the darkness with wide-open eyes, gazing at the faintly shimmering pearl-inlaid ceiling, clenching her fists, her lips pale, counting the fine grains in the hourglass one by one, quietly waiting for dawn. Then the next day, she would desperately carry braziers into the room, even directing craftsmen to spend over ten days building a heating system, turning the bedroom into something resembling a furnace room.
During breakfast yesterday morning, when Jingjing and Ping An were chatting about the lively autumn festival, she had merely casually agreed with a couple of remarks, yet he remembered. He said nothing at the time, but the next day, he canceled all his engagements and, under the pretense of visiting the temple in the mountains, took her out for an excursion.
Over the years, he had always been a stubborn and proud man, never believing in gods or buddhas, rebellious and self-willed like a child. Chu Qiao teased him for suddenly changing his ways and wanting to worship the Buddha, but he just smiled at her mysteriously, saying that while other buddhas might be optional, there was one deity he absolutely had to pay respects to.
When Chu Qiao and the others entered the side hall of Anyuan Temple, her cheeks couldn't help but flush slightly. Jingjing and the others burst into laughter, while only Xiao Fei earnestly kowtowed and bowed, turning back to glare at the disrespectful younger generation.
Incense smoke curled upward, the hall was solemn, and the statue of the Child-Giving Guanyin sat benevolently in the temple. The midday light streamed in from outside, piercing through layers of fine incense ash, spilling across the empty hall. Zhuge Yue's voice sounded beside her ear, warm and amused, as he whispered, "One must be sincere when worshipping the Buddha."
Chu Qiao turned to see his bright eyes, smiling as he gazed at her with a mix of seriousness and a childlike playfulness.
She smiled and turned back, kneeling down calmly with her palms pressed together, silently reciting the wishes countless women had made before her. Then, placing her hands on the prayer mat, she bowed sincerely.
First bow: May he be healthy, encounter auspicious events, and turn misfortune into blessing.
Second bow: May we live together in peace, never to part again.
Third bow: May our wishes be fulfilled, and may we have a healthy child.
She bowed again and again, so devoutly, her face filled with unprecedented contentment and tranquility.
Bodhisattva, you have blessed so many people. Now, please bless me just once.
Behind them, Jingjing, Mo'er, and the others giggled quietly, while Xiao Fei earnestly admonished them to respect the deities. Yue Qi and He Xiao stood outside chatting idly about some lieutenant from this or that battalion who was caught by his wife at a brothel and beaten up in the street, making all the guards burst into laughter.
The late autumn weather was chilly, the sky clear and vast. Kneeling there, she looked up at the deity above, feeling that life was peaceful and good. The storms and bloodshed of her past memories had long faded away, and her heart had never been as calm and serene as it was today.
Zhuge Yue helped her up, his arms gently encircling her waist. His cool lips brushed a light kiss on her forehead, and he chuckled softly.
Jingjing, sharp-eyed, tugged at Xiao Fei and exclaimed, "Seventh Sister-in-law, look! Sister and Brother-in-law are the ones disrespecting the deities!"
Everyone chuckled quietly upon hearing this, but Zhuge Yue paid no mind. Chu Qiao's cheeks flushed slightly as she gently pushed away from his embrace, yet her hands tightly gripped his arm beneath, refusing to let go.
"Shall we stay on the mountain for vegetarian meals?"Zhuge Yue asked, but before Chu Qiao could reply, she noticed Ping An winking and making faces at her from the side. Understanding his meaning, she said, "Let's go down the mountain. We're all carnivores here—no need to force ourselves to pretend to be refined."
Mo'er giggled foolishly, while Ping An bounded over excitedly, chattering to Zhuge Yue about how delicious certain dishes were at De Yue Lou. Jingjing chimed in agreement. Zhuge Yue flicked Ping An's forehead with a light knock and scolded him affectionately, "You rascal," before leading the group out of the solemn Buddha hall.
After generously donating incense money, the temple prepared a quiet courtyard for them. Yue Qi and the others went to arrange the carriages and horses, leaving only Zhuge Yue, Chu Qiao, and a few others sitting amidst the falling maple leaves, sipping tea.
They had barely settled when Xiao Fei grew restless. Chu Qiao initially thought she needed to relieve herself but was too embarrassed to say so, so she took her to a side courtyard. To her surprise, Xiao Fei blushed and, after a long pause, explained that there was a fortune-teller at the Child-Granting Guanyin Temple whose divinations were incredibly accurate and whose pills were Spirit Medicine. She claimed her two pregnancies were due to taking the fortune-teller's Spirit Medicine, but Yue Qi and the young master didn't believe her. This time, she could only sneak off to buy more.
Chu Qiao naturally didn't believe it, thinking to herself that Xiao Fei's pregnancies were Yue Qi's doing—what did a street fortune-teller have to do with it? But seeing Xiao Fei's earnest plea, she couldn't bring herself to refuse. After informing Zhuge Yue, she accompanied Xiao Fei to the fortune-teller's stall on the maple-lined path outside the main hall.
The fortune-teller had white hair and a white beard, appearing gaunt and aloof, with an air of immortal grace.
Upon seeing Chu Qiao, he immediately declared her a person of great wealth and nobility, though her life was full of entanglements and obstacles. He assured her that sincere devotion to Buddha would provide a way to overcome her misfortunes. Xiao Fei nodded vigorously, winking at Chu Qiao as if to say, "See? He's so accurate!"
Chu Qiao, however, knew this was standard fortune-teller talk—who didn't have troubles in life? As for the wealth and nobility, anyone could guess that just by looking at their fine clothing.
Xiao Fei sat at the stall, drawing lots and asking about her fortunes, thoroughly engrossed. Chu Qiao stood by idly when she suddenly spotted a very familiar figure in the distance and froze.
After a moment, she whispered a quick instruction to Xiao Fei and quietly followed the figure.
It had been six years since they last met.
Amidst the vibrant red maples, he wore a plain white robe, looking unadorned and devoid of his former spirited brilliance. The autumn wind rustled, lifting one of his sleeves lightly, like a willow catkin with no branch to cling to, drifting softly.
"Your Highness, would you like some water?"
A servant in his late teens approached, his voice cool and clear. Though dressed as a man, it was evident he was a young woman, but with her back to Chu Qiao, her face remained unseen.
Zhao Song turned around. His face, once slightly chubby from a carefree life, was now sharp and thin as a blade. Though his posture remained upright, it carried a hint of weariness and frailty. The sparkle in his eyes was gone, replaced by a stillness like an ancient well. Barely in his twenties, his temples were already streaked with gray.
He shook his head calmly and said, "I'd like to walk alone for a while."The girl remained motionless, merely lowering her head slightly as she held a water pouch. The gentle breeze brushed past her profile, carrying a faint, inexplicable sense of familiarity. Suddenly, she lifted her head and stared intently at Zhao Song, asking firmly, "Your Highness, are you waiting for someone?"
A trace of displeasure flickered across Zhao Song's expression as he frowned and replied, "What did you say?"
"How long has it been since Your Highness left the mansion? Why are you in such high spirits today?"
Zhao Song's displeasure deepened, and he gave her a profound glance before turning to leave. Startled, the girl hurried after him, grabbing his sleeve and pleading sorrowfully, "Has Your Highness forgotten what the Fourteenth Prince said?"
Held by the sleeve, Zhao Song slowly turned his head, his gaze as deep as a still pond as he stared intently at the girl dressed in men's clothing. In a low voice, he said, "Wu Xin, not everyone in this world owes you something. Has your hatred lasted too long?"
With that, he turned and disappeared into the dense maple forest.
The girl stood frozen with her back to Chu Qiao, her silhouette delicate and slender, her black hair flowing like willow tendrils. Her frail figure seemed as if it could be swept away by a single gust of wind. An unshakeable aura of loneliness and solitude seeped from her fingertips, drifting layer by layer through the forest. She stood there silently for a long time before finally wiping her face with her sleeve, as if brushing something away, and then hurried off in the direction Zhao Song had gone.
Birds flitted and chirped among the trees, and in that fleeting moment, Chu Qiao seemed to see him again from years past—dressed in a sapphire-blue robe embroidered with colorful birds, vibrant and splendid, swinging a golden riding crop as he proudly declared to her, "Of all the maids in the mansion, I like you the most. I appoint you as my Gate Guard General. How about that?"
A gust of wind blew, and she suddenly felt so cold.
Xiao Fei's voice gradually drew nearer. She snapped out of her reverie and, hand in hand with the ever-unsatisfied mother of two, made her way back.
After a long day of wandering, everyone was tired, so they took carriages down the mountain. The carriage rocked gently along the way, and Zhuge Yue, noticing her lack of enthusiasm, frowned and asked if she was tired. Chu Qiao nodded in agreement, leaning against his shoulder and closing her eyes drowsily, yet unable to fall asleep.
Zhuge Yue took her hand—it was icy cold—and, feeling concerned, instructed Yue Qi to hurry the journey.
"In a few days, Zhao Che will be getting married."
Chu Qiao was taken aback and tilted her head slightly. Zhuge Yue smiled and said, "He's had a streak of bad luck over the years and has nearly become an old bachelor. You don't know the bride, but I think you'll like her. She's the youngest daughter of the Eastern Hu chieftain, named Wanyan Rou. Though her name suggests gentleness, she's anything but—she's a domineering, wild girl, but her heart is pure and kind. When she arrives in the capital, I'll take you to meet her."
Chu Qiao nodded, thoughts swirling in her mind, but in the end, she said nothing.
After the autumn sacrifices, the weather turned cold. The lake surface froze over, and with a heavy snowfall, the world was blanketed in pristine white. The rooms remained warm and cozy all day, making people feel lazy.
During this time, Sima Mansion was bustling with activity. Zhuge Yue seemed particularly busy, and even Yue Qi had been absent for quite some time. According to Xiao Fei, he had been sent away on an assignment by Zhuge Yue and had already been gone for seven or eight days.
That evening, Chu Qiao casually asked Zhuge Yue about it, but he evaded the question mysteriously, saying only that he had a surprise in store for her.The surprise came swiftly. Three days later, Sun Di sent someone rushing from Biantang to deliver both a private letter and an official palace document to her.
It turned out that Zhuge Yue, the Minister of War of Daxia, had sent envoys personally to Biantang to propose marriage, seeking to wed Biantang's King Xiuli. The first batch of betrothal documents and dowry had already been delivered to the Biantang imperial palace.
When Chu Qiao received the news, Zhuge Yue was still lounging in bed, not yet risen. Dressed in a translucent white satin sleeping robe, he propped his head up with one hand, gazing at her sideways with a lazy, half-smiling expression.
Chu Qiao walked over to him, spread the letter out, and asked, "What is this about?"
Zhuge Yue replied calmly, "What do you mean? When a man comes of age, he should marry; when a woman comes of age, she should wed. It's only natural."
Chu Qiao frowned. "But my status is rather awkward. Given your current position, aren't you afraid of court criticism?"
Zhuge Yue let out a light, disdainful laugh. "When I, Zhuge Yue, marry, what does it matter what others say?"
It felt as if a hot water bottle had been punctured, warm water trickling slowly into her heart. A smile she couldn't contain gradually spread across her face. She crouched down, resting her head on his leg, and remained motionless.
Zhuge Yue sat up and embraced her, bending down to nuzzle her hair with his chin. Softly, he said, "I've been thinking about this for so many years. How could I let you enter my household quietly? I must announce it to the world, tell everyone that you are mine."
The following days suddenly became hectic. Chu Qiao didn't know what methods Zhuge Yue had used, but it seemed as if the entire upper echelons of Zhenhuang had collectively lost their memories overnight. No one remembered how she had helped Yan Xun fight his way out of Zhenhuang, no one recalled how she had twice thwarted Daxia's northern campaigns, and no one even seemed to remember that she had personally killed Daxia's Third Prince, Zhao Qi.
In the following days, noblewomen from various influential families visited one after another, and rare treasures and gifts flowed like a stream into the Sima Mansion. Even imperial relatives and ministers who weren't particularly close to Zhuge Yue or Zhao Che sent gifts to maintain appearances.
On the third day of the twelfth month, news suddenly came from the Holy Gold Palace that the Emperor was critically ill and urgently summoned Zhuge Yue to the palace to attend to him.
Normally, when an emperor is gravely ill, only imperial princes and royal relatives should be summoned to serve at his bedside. However, the Emperor was on the brink of death, and no one knew what might happen the next moment. Prince Jing, Duke Mu of Lingnan, and crown princes from various fiefdoms all submitted memorials requesting to enter the palace. Leaving Zhao Che alone in the palace at such a time was unwise, so Zhuge Yue had no choice but to submit a request to accompany him. The Emperor, in his illness, had no objections, and Zhao Yang and others weren't comfortable letting Zhuge Yue remain free outside the palace at such a critical juncture. Thus, the Holy Gold Palace suddenly became bustling, gathering all the influential forces of Daxia.
Yet, on the very night these key figures entered the palace, the Eastern Hu army stationed in the western part of the city clashed with Prince Jing's personal guards. The exact reason remained unknown, but by the time Chu Qiao was awakened by the commotion, the entire western sky was glowing red, and the sounds of killing shook the heavens. Messengers from various regions trying to report to the palace were all blocked outside the palace gates—clearly, someone was deliberately allowing the situation to escalate.Half an hour later, the scale of the brawl expanded as the personal guards of the Young Lord Mu from Lingnan joined the fray. However, the local patrol squads of Zhenhuang stood by idly, watching from the other shore. No matter how the residents of the western part of the city cried and shouted, the patrols merely used the excuse of awaiting orders from above to block all pleas, remaining stationed on the periphery without taking action, quietly waiting for the two factions to battle it out.
Meanwhile, gangs and ruffians of all sizes in Zhenhuang City seized the opportunity to loot and cause trouble. After some minor disturbances and finding no one intervening, they grew increasingly audacious. Wails and lamentations echoed from all directions—east, west, south, and north—of Zhenhuang City. The common folk hid in their homes, trembling with fear, terrified of being drawn into the chaos.
Chu Qiao ordered the guards in the mansion to strengthen their defenses, keeping the main gate tightly shut and not stepping outside even a single step.
He Xiao and Zhuge Yue’s personal guard, Yue Liu, were jointly responsible for the mansion’s defense. Before long, the area outside the mansion suddenly lit up brightly, as if surrounded by a large force of men.
Yue Liu and the other guards gritted their teeth, clenched their fists, and drew their wolf blades, looking as if they were ready to fight to the death. However, Chu Qiao found it strange and sent He Xiao out to gather information.
He Xiao soon returned and said to Chu Qiao with a smile that it was the government’s supervisory army, dispatched under orders from above to protect Sima Mansion. Soon, the clamor from all directions quieted down considerably, likely due to the effectiveness of this so-called supervisory army. Yet when Chu Qiao asked Yue Liu about it, the young guard scratched his head in confusion, saying he had never heard of any supervisory army.
Around the second watch, a sudden commotion erupted at the main gate. Just as Chu Qiao stepped out of her room, she saw Zhuge Yue hurriedly walking in, clad in a deep purple fur coat. Seeing her, he asked, “Were you frightened?”
Chu Qiao laughed and replied, “Do you think I’m made of paper? Back when I was out there killing and setting fires, you probably hadn’t even been reborn as a human yet.”
Zhuge Yue picked up a teacup, took a sip, forced a smile, and sat down.
Chu Qiao asked, “What exactly is going on?”
When it came to Zhuge Yue’s affairs, Chu Qiao rarely inquired. For one, her identity and position made it inappropriate for her to know too much; for another, she no longer had the energy to meddle in such matters. However, tonight’s events had genuinely worried her.
Zhuge Yue looked up and, seeing her concerned expression, felt a slight pang of guilt. He took her cold hands in his and said, “It’s Jing Han and his lot causing trouble. The southern gate has been taken over by Zhao Yang’s men. I came out through the northern gate, which is why I’m a bit late.”
“What good does causing trouble do for them? If things escalate, the Elder Council might send the border troops back to their territories. Wouldn’t that mean no one gains any advantage?”
Zhuge Yue gave a cold laugh and said, “That’s exactly what they’re counting on.”
Chu Qiao frowned slightly, then quickly grasped the crux of the matter. She couldn’t help but sigh deeply and said, “That was close. Thankfully, you got out quickly.”
Zhuge Yue patted her cheek and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m not so easily outwitted by such tactics.”The current confrontation between Zhao Che and Zhao Yang essentially represents the clash between Daxia's Southern Army and the Eastern Hu forces. While Zhao Yang has Jing Han and the Young Duke Mu as his right-hand men, Zhao Che also possesses Zhuge Yue's Qinghai Army. With Emperor Xia critically ill, nearly all frontier armies have followed their masters to remain in the capital. Having frontier troops stationed in the imperial capital is inherently irregular—should any incident occur, they would undoubtedly be ordered back to their respective territories. However, whether it's Zhao Che, Zhuge Yue, or Jing Han, their subordinates are all regional frontier forces. Only Zhao Yang still controls the capital's Elite Cavalry Camp. These thirty thousand elite cavalry might be insignificant on the battlefield, but once all frontier armies are repatriated, they would become the most powerful force in the capital. If Zhao Che does not follow the Eastern Hu Army back to the northern territories, he would inevitably fall into Zhao Yang's hands. Yet, should he return to his domain, the succession of the next Emperor Xia would essentially be decided.
In the year when Emperor Xia was critically ill, similar power struggles unfolded almost daily in Daxia. Having led troops before, Chu Qiao naturally understood the gravity of the situation. She stepped forward to comfort Zhuge Yue, saying, "Be careful in everything you do. Don’t worry about me. The manor has plenty of guards. Even if ten thousand soldiers storm the gates, we can hold them off for two hours. Next time, there’s no need to send troops back to protect me."
Zhuge Yue was taken aback and asked, "When did I send troops back to the manor?"
Chu Qiao froze, then replied, "The official supervisory troops were just here, guarding us for over two hours."
Zhuge Yue frowned deeply, thought for a long time, and finally shook his head. "Those weren’t my men."
Chu Qiao stared at him with a puzzled expression, her face full of seriousness.
Zhuge Yue smiled, took her hand, and said, "It’s alright. They likely meant no harm."
"Were they Wei Shu Ye’s men?"
"If I’m not mistaken, they were probably Zhao Song’s men."
It felt as if a handful of snow had been poured over her heart, chilling her instantly. Zhuge Yue’s voice grew slightly somber. "With the emperor critically ill, almost every influential figure in Zhenhuang City is at the palace. The only one not in the palace at this time, with the ability to mobilize official troops, is him."
A trace of gravity flashed in Zhuge Yue’s eyes as he said slowly, "It’s been so long. I had almost forgotten about him."
Incense curled in the great hall, the air warm and steamy, so much so that one could only wear thin, light garments. Yet Chu Qiao stood there, feeling a chill that spread from her fingers, crept up her spine, and seeped into her mind.
Zhao Song—Zhao the Thirteenth—had one arm severed by Yan Xun, his elder brother died by her own hand, and his maternal clan was brought down by her and Yan Xun. Had the once most prominent prince in Zhenhuang City been forgotten to such an extent that he wasn’t even allowed to attend the emperor in his illness?
The faint fragrance from Zhuge Yue’s robes wafted into her senses. He held her in his arms, his heart aching at her pale face and blue-tinged lips. Softly, he said, "Xing’er, why don’t I send you back to Qinghai first?"
Chu Qiao was lost in thought, as if she hadn’t heard him. Only when he repeated himself did she quickly shake her head, clutching his sleeve anxiously and exclaiming, "I don’t want to!"
She looked up at him stubbornly, like a defiant young lion. Zhuge Yue sighed helplessly, wrapped his arms around her, and murmured with a low sigh, "It won’t be long now."
Yes, it won’t be long now. Every time the ministers and princes saw the emperor’s condition, they would return home and say the same thing—to their subordinates, to their families: "It won’t be long now. The emperor’s days are numbered. The days of living in fear will soon be over."
Yet day after day, the emperor’s mouth twisted, his mind grew confused, he no longer recognized anyone, he couldn’t eat…
It sounded as if the emperor was clinging to life by a thread, as if he might let go and pass away at any moment. But as winter slowly arrived, with heavy snow sealing the doors and the world draped in silver, and as the Spring Festival approached, the emperor continued to endure day by day. Not only did he not die, but it was said he could occasionally speak a few complete sentences, occasionally open his eyes, and sip a few mouthfuls of ginseng soup.
No one knew what that aged, broken body was holding on for. It seemed he had some unfinished business, as if he were waiting for someone. And so, he dragged on day after day, unwilling to die, unwilling to close his eyes.The atmosphere in the capital had remained tense because of him. Since no one had absolute certainty, no one dared to take the lead in assassinating the emperor and initiating action. Zhenhuang City was as taut as a fully drawn bowstring—even a single loud shout from a roadside beggar could trigger a flash of gleaming swords and spears. Even newborn infants dared not cry loudly at night.
That morning, just after Zhuge Yue had left for the morning court session, a visitor arrived.
A young woman stood in the silver-clad, snow-blanketed landscape, wrapped in a pure white fox-fur cloak. Her eyes were pitch-black, her lips crimson, and her ethereal beauty made her seem like a figure from a painting.
The winter light was dim and distant, as if arriving from another world, casting a cold glow upon everything. Chu Qiao stood at the entrance facing the wind, draped in a suqing-colored cloak, and suddenly froze. She stared at the woman for a long time, unmoving.
The young woman smiled faintly, her expression exceedingly subtle, and slowly approached until she stood before Chu Qiao. With an enchanting smile, she said, "Sixth Sister, don’t you recognize me? I’m Little Eight."
Time had rushed by so swiftly, like a river of spring water winding eastward, its traces now invisible.
That little child from the past—kneeling beside her, so small and thin, like a wolf cub that had never tasted milk—had kowtowed under the cold moonlight, swearing to their deceased brothers and sisters that they would wait and see, wait for her to avenge them.
In the blink of an eye, fourteen years had passed.
Chu Qiao recalled the day of the execution when she hid among the crowd, listening to the child’s desperate cries—calling her name, begging her to save her. Yet, in the end, she had not stepped forward. Instead, on a night when the moon was veiled by clouds, she snatched the broken corpse from the jaws of wild dogs and, without even a straw mat to wrap it in, let it sink into the cold, clear waters of the Bi Lake.
Fourteen years—fourteen years. She had thought the child was dead. She had dreamed countless times of her stubborn, tear-streaked face. For fourteen years, she had blamed herself and harbored regret, and because of this, she had hated Zhuge Yue for so long.
Her eyes grew warm, tears nearly spilling over. Standing by the door, she reached out from a distance, a faint, bitter smile touching her lips. Yet, within that bitterness lay the joy of survival after calamity, like water slowly overflowing, drop by drop.
Little Eight took her hand and smiled lightly. "I’m quite something, aren’t I? Still alive. You didn’t expect that, did you?"
Her voice was familiar—soft and airy, always carrying a hint of detachment.
They entered the room together. Little Eight moved around with practiced ease before settling onto a soft couch in the corner. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and said, "Fourth Brother Zhuge still has the same habits—liking to burn aloeswood incense in his room."
She glanced around familiarly, casually mentioning Zhuge Yue’s daily routines, then picked up a pomegranate and toyed with it in her hand.
Chu Qiao watched her, a thousand words lodged in her throat, unsure where to begin.
But Little Eight smiled at her and said, "Sixth Sister, don’t be surprised. The person who died that day wasn’t me. At the very last moment before the execution, your husband swapped me out and has been sheltering me for many years. Between him and me, there are debts of gratitude and grudges. But I’m not here today to pressure you into fulfilling your past vow to avenge our family—because even I have long since given up the thought of revenge."A faint breeze stirred in the room, causing the curtain in the corner to flutter slightly. Through the sunlight, tiny dust particles could be seen dancing in the air. Between Chu Qiao and Xiao Ba, the sunlight was so glaring that she had to squint, yet she still couldn't clearly see Xiao Ba's face.
Chu Qiao looked at her, feeling a sudden sense of unfamiliarity. After thinking for a long while, she still asked gently, "Xiao Ba, how have you been all these years?"
"Just so-so," Xiao Ba said casually. "Zhuge Si treated me quite well. I suppose I might have benefited from your influence. Later, he went to study under Mr. Wolong and took me along. I followed along reading and writing, but he restricted my freedom and wouldn't let me leave. I ran away several times, but he always caught me and brought me back. This went on for many years until..."
At this point, Xiao Ba lifted her eyelids to glance at her and suddenly chuckled, saying, "Until rumors spread that he died in Yanbei, and the Zhuge family expelled him from the clan. Those of us from Green Mountain Courtyard were also driven out of the household, and only then did I gain my freedom. After that, I wandered around outside. As a young woman without any practical skills to make a living, I eventually fell into the world of pleasure. I drifted around in brothels for over a year until I met the Thirteenth Prince. Again, it was thanks to you, Sixth Sister, because I look like you, that the Prince took a liking to me at once. Now, my status is that of a household slave in the Prince's residence. Hah, after all these years, I'm still a slave—just with slightly better treatment."
Chu Qiao listened to her indifferent tone and heard her mention Zhao Song. Recalling what she had witnessed a few days ago on Xiangzhi Mountain—that woman dressed in men's clothing—she slowly furrowed her brows. In a low voice, she asked, "You knew I had come to Zhenhuang long ago. Why didn't you come to find me?"
"Why would I come looking for you?" Xiao Ba's sharp gaze swept over her as she let out a cold laugh. Her young face carried a faint trace of disdain and chill as she slowly said, "Sixth Sister now holds a noble status—you're both the General Xiuli of Yanbei and the King Xiuli of Biantang, and soon you'll be the Sima Madame of Daxia. As a mere lowly slave, if I came to you rashly, wouldn't I just bring shame upon you?"
Xiao Ba's eyes were icy, especially when she uttered the words "Sima Madame," her gaze almost seemed capable of spitting fire.
The incense in the burner burned bit by bit, a thin line of smoke slowly rising. The pale golden light flowed in like sparse water, layer by layer, casting fragmented, mottled patterns on the smooth floor. The room was utterly silent. Chu Qiao silently watched her, her once fervent heart gradually cooling inch by inch. The words that had reached her lips were ultimately swallowed back harshly into her stomach. Her heart felt lost and desolate, as if covered by the white snow of Yanbei—utterly cold and desolate.
She heard herself ask in a flat, emotionless voice, "Then why have you come today?"
"The Prince is leaving. I want to ask you to get me a document releasing me from the imperial slave registry so I can follow the Prince."
Chu Qiao was slightly surprised. "Where is Zhao Song going?"
"Where else? To Yansai to oversee the horse pastures. A prestigious prince of Daxia, the Empress's own son, actually demoted to guarding horse pastures."
Xiao Ba's expression turned gloomy. She spoke through gritted teeth, her voice filled with immense, barely suppressed anger.
"Why?""Why else? It's all because of you!" Xiao Ba turned around and said coldly, "Ever since His Highness lost an arm to those Yanbei dogs, he has lived in seclusion, never involving himself in court disputes or the succession battle. While other princes busied themselves fighting for power, no one paid him any attention. But a few days ago, he mobilized official troops for your sake and openly showed favor to your side. Do you think the Fourteenth Prince and his faction would allow someone of his status to remain in the capital?"
Chu Qiao's hands were unusually cold, her mind buzzing. Xiao Ba's sharp voice rang in her ears as she continued angrily, "I'm not asking you to find a way to keep His Highness in the capital. I only beg you to get me an official document. If His Highness won't take me with him, I'll follow on my own. At the very least, I can serve him morning and night, so he won't have to travel alone. His Highness has been kind to me, and I won't be like some people who repay kindness with enmity and forget favors received."
After a long time, Chu Qiao finally raised her head and stared steadily at Xiao Ba's beautiful face, saying calmly, "Xiao Ba, must you be so distant with me?"
"What kind of talk is that, Sixth Sister? What status do you hold, and what status do I have? How dare I presume to be close to you? Moreover..."
"If you continue speaking like this, leave immediately. Don't come begging me for anything. I'll consider myself as never having had a sister like you!"
Chu Qiao suddenly spoke with icy anger in her voice. Xiao Ba was stunned, staring dumbfounded at the furious Chu Qiao, unable to utter a word.
"What are you resentful about? What are you angry about? That I couldn't protect you back then? That I couldn't take you with me? Or that today I can't avenge Zhi Xiang and Lin Xi, and instead recognize the enemy as my husband, submitting myself to the foe?"
Chu Qiao said with contained anger, "All these years, you've suffered hardships, but I haven't necessarily been happy either. I thought you were dead, and I've been filled with guilt and self-blame for fourteen years. Now that you've come to me, with your sarcasm and cold remarks—is this the sisterly bond between us?"
The noon sunlight streamed in, casting bright white patches on the floor. Chu Qiao stood up and looked at her coldly. "It's been fourteen years. So much has happened since then. Your head is filled only with your own misfortunes and sorrows, and you blame everything on others. I truly wonder if you're still the strong, brave sister I knew back then. You named yourself 'Heartless'—have you really become heartless?"
Xiao Ba stood where she was, her face slightly pale. Chu Qiao suddenly felt incredibly weary, as if every part of her body was crying out in exhaustion.
She slowly turned around and said quietly, "Go. I'll handle Zhao Song's matter."
Then she returned to her room.
After a long time, Xiao Ba finally left. Through the window paper, Chu Qiao watched her depart under the escort of Mei Xiang and others from Sima Mansion. Her figure was slender, dressed in snow-white clothes, as if about to disappear into the vast snowfall.
Watching her, Chu Qiao recalled her earlier words—house arrest, wandering alone, falling into prostitution...
She bit her lip tightly, her heart growing increasingly sorrowful. She sat alone until dusk enveloped everything.
Zhuge Yue embraced her from behind, his deep voice sounding with a hint of reproach, "Why didn't you eat dinner?"Chu Qiao leaned against his chest, as relaxed as a fish swimming into water. She held his hand—so large it almost completely enveloped her small one—and remained silent, idly turning his hand over to carefully count the calluses on his palm.
"Xiao Ba has arrived?"
"Mm," Chu Qiao nodded. "You knew all along—why didn't you tell me?"
"I've been meaning to, but never found the right opportunity."
Zhuge Yue smiled wryly, somewhat helplessly. "Believe it or not, this matter has been weighing on my mind, like a lingering regret. After all, I wasn't very kind to her back then. There were times she tried to run away, and I even struck her. In those days, my temperament was peculiar. After saving her, I kept her confined, unwilling to let go. When I was in a good mood, I'd teach her reading, writing, and martial arts. When I was in a bad mood, I'd resent her for resembling you and take it out on her. During those years on the mountain, with no maids around, she was the one serving by my side. Her eccentric personality now is likely my doing."
"How long has she been with Zhao Song?"
"About two or three years," Zhuge Yue recalled. "I heard Zhao Song dotes on her immensely. She once accidentally caused the death of one of his favored concubines, yet he never held it against her."
Chu Qiao fell silent for a long while before speaking slowly, "She might have feelings for Zhao Song."
Zhuge Yue chuckled. "Whoever she fancies, as long as you're not angry with me, it's fine."
"What about Zhao Song's situation?"
"Don't worry. If Zhao Yang thinks he can control everything, he'll have to ask for our consent. But I actually think it's not a bad thing for Zhao Song to leave the capital. Sooner or later, Zhenhuang City will face great turmoil. For him, leaving is far safer than staying."
Chu Qiao had already considered this. She frowned slightly. "Then what should we do?"
"I plan to send him to Qianghu. Firstly, it's close to the northern borders, within Zhao Che's sphere of influence. Secondly, it's a gathering place for the Qiang people, prosperous and with a mild coastal climate."
Chu Qiao nodded. "Let's do as you say."
"Then I'll make arrangements tomorrow. Do you want to see him off and meet him?"
After a long silence, Chu Qiao shook her head. "He probably doesn't want to see me. Let's not complicate things."
"I think you should meet him," Zhuge Yue said.
Chu Qiao looked up, frowning at him. Zhuge Yue smiled freely. "Don't look at me like that—I have no ulterior motives. I just don't want you trapped in self-blame forever. What happened back then wasn't your fault."
Back then?
Chu Qiao's gaze grew distant, her mind drifting to that day on Xiangzhi Mountain—a tall figure standing alone, robes fluttering gently, ink-black hair touched with frost, one empty sleeve swaying like rootless willow catkins.
Memories long sealed away now tore open, revealing a world unchanged yet utterly different. Only the crimson maples remained layered in vibrant hues, just as they were years ago.
————Break————
No update tomorrow—I have a class reunion.
Lately, my writing has been slow, and the plot feels flat. Ah, it's so frustrating! I've never been good at writing everyday life scenes. If you all don't enjoy chapters about eating, sleeping, and having children, I'll speed things up and rush toward reforms, political upheavals, and the grand finale.
OpenNovel