Сheng Lei lооkеd аt him with dеep cоnсern. "Thеse pаst fеw уеаrs, уou've bеcome like a differеnt рersоn. Evеn I find уоu... frightеning."
Hе rерliеd, "Вeсause yоu hаve nеver exрerienсed what it mеаns tо bе unаblе tо cry."
Fu Yunхi оcсаsiоnallу thought оf thаt little girl. Thаt аfternоon, she had stumblеd by chanсе intо the mоst helpless аnd bittеr mоment оf his lifе. Неr livеlу cоmmоtion hаd somеhow scаtterеd muсh оf his sorrоw. Тhаt сolorful fish—an ungivеn farewell mementо—had comе to feеl like а рromisе, driving him to become ever more fearless and invincible on the battlefield.
A person must always have something to hold onto.
When he returned triumphantly with a hundred thousand elite soldiers, still sitting tall on his horse as he had years before, watching the city gates swing open and the commoners cheer, an inexplicable melancholy settled in his heart.
After all, he was no longer that heroic young man of yesteryear.
In the red plum grove during the palace banquet, he unintentionally encountered a young girl. In a moment of crisis, she had drawn close to him, unaware that he was more dangerous than the danger itself.
The little girl’s twin buns looked familiar. It wasn’t until she raised her head, revealing those same bright eyes as before, that her now-matured features gradually blurred and finally pieced together into the tear-streaked, sobbing face of a child.
Seven years later, on a heavy snowy day, he finally saw this little girl again. The once tearful, plain-looking child now had gently curved brows and slightly upturned lips, gazing with a mocking, detached coolness at everything before her. Her eyes remained as clear as a stream, yet they no longer reflected the naive simplicity untouched by the world, but rather a profound weariness born of countless experiences.
His heart wept, and was hers not weeping too?
He stood in the shadows, quietly observing her every move. The little girl coldly watched the slander and schemes, smiling sweetly and cleverly, skillfully turning the tables and leaving her enemies defenseless. It seemed she had forgotten how to cry, always watching everything with a smile.
He was no longer the youth who wore every emotion on his face, and she was no longer the girl who hid away to cry.
Time had changed everything, yet it seemed nothing had changed at all.
A thought took root in his mind: to draw her under his wing, where she could cry freely if she wished and never have to force a smile.
Fu Yunxi remembered that he owed her a farewell memento. Now that he had returned, he repaid her with a blue field fish-tail hairpin, extending his hand to her under the moonlight.
"My Princess Consort."
Three days later.
Han Yan decided to make another trip to the village in the eastern part of the city.
Many mysteries remained unsolved. If Abi could reveal the truth, that would be best. If not... then darker methods would have to be employed.
The carriage jolted along the rough road east of the city. Han Yan pressed two fingers to her temples, massaging them lightly. In her memory, Consort Chen’s birthday seemed to be approaching. In her previous life, she had not attended Consort Chen’s birthday celebration. But in this life, bearing the title of Xuan Qing Prince Consort, it would be difficult to avoid. Time was steadily drawing closer to the day Zhuang Hanming would meet his misfortune. Extreme caution was necessary in all matters. Now, the Zhou sisters increasingly viewed her as a thorn in their side, and with Wei Rufeng and the Seventh Prince added to the mix, her situation was exceedingly precarious.
Lost in thought, she soon arrived at the village entrance. Han Yan, along with Ji Lan and Shu Hong, alighted from the carriage. The moment her feet touched the ground, a cold wind carrying the scent of blood rushed toward her face.The smell was far too pungent, causing Ji Lan to feel nauseous on the spot. Seeing Han Yan's expression tighten, she knew something terrible must have happened and said, "Miss, Shu Hong and I will go in first to take a look..."
Han Yan shook her head. "Let's go in together." Though she said this, her fingers were already digging into her palms, a sense of foreboding gripping her heart. Sure enough, after walking just a few steps, they saw a man lying on the ground not far from the village entrance, carrying a basket on his back. He was covered in blood, his body riddled with knife wounds.
Ji Lan ran over, hesitated for a moment, then pushed the man and turned back. "Miss, he's dead."
Han Yan took a few steps closer. The man was dressed in ordinary clothes, likely a villager from this place. There was a clear knife wound deeply slashed across his waist, blood pooling around him. His expression was one of terror, his eyes wide open, as if he had never expected to meet such a sudden death.
Han Yan's fingers brushed against the man's bloodstains. Slowly rising to her feet, she walked toward the village. As she drew nearer, a scene of hell on earth unfolded before her eyes.
Blood was everywhere, corpses scattered all around. An old man who had just returned from gathering herbs lay dead before his own door. A woman holding a child had her throat slit. Not a single person in the village had escaped the massacre—all were dead villagers, and the water in the well was stained crimson with blood. The surroundings were eerily silent, with only the livestock, unaware of what had happened, continuing to peck at the ground.
Everyone in this village had been brutally slaughtered!
Han Yan clenched her fists tightly. Ji Lan covered her mouth. "How cruel! Who could have done this?"
Shu Hong, however, was worried. "Miss, I fear those people may not have gone far. This place is dangerous. Should we..."
Han Yan pushed her hand away and walked into the innermost house.
Abi's door was wide open. As soon as Han Yan entered, she saw Abi lying on her back, still clutching a piece of embroidery in her hand. The blood on her body had completely soaked the embroidery. Clearly, she had been working on a new piece before her death. The room seemed to have been ransacked, with drawers flung open and everything in disarray.
Ji Lan whispered, "What happened here?"
Han Yan felt utterly exhausted and shook her head. Turning back to look at Abi's body lying in a pool of blood, she noticed the corners of her lips were slightly upturned, as if she had smiled in relief. It seemed she believed that after shedding the burdens of so many years, she could finally be at ease.
Han Yan noticed that one of Abi's hands was tightly gripping the embroidery, her posture somewhat peculiar.
Even if she had been embroidering before her death, it was highly unusual for her to cling so tightly to the embroidery after being attacked. A thought struck Han Yan, and she bent down to pry the object from Abi's hand.
After much effort, she managed to pull it out. It was a handkerchief, not embroidery at all. The handkerchief was smooth and delicate, unlike ordinary silk. For so many years, Abi had lived in poverty—how could she possess such an exquisite handkerchief?
Without time to examine it further, Han Yan tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve and said to Ji Lan, "We must leave immediately."
Ji Lan pointed at Abi's body. "What about these people..."
Han Yan paused for a moment. "Later, find someone to report this to the authorities."
Ji Lan nodded.This time the carriage stopped for an extremely brief moment. Inside, Ji Lan could no longer hold back and looked at Han Yan, saying, "Miss... why do you think those people slaughtered everyone in the village? Could it be because of us..." Not long ago, Han Yan had just visited that village once, and shortly after, it was massacred. It was hard not to connect the two events—what could be the link between them?
Han Yan lowered her gaze. "Yes."
Ji Lan opened her mouth, but upon seeing Han Yan's expression, she swallowed her words. Then she heard Han Yan's voice beside her ear: "They were afraid Abi might reveal something. Abi's fears were indeed justified. Now, to prevent us from discovering anything, they even slaughtered an entire village."
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