Jiafu helped Pei You'an to the couch and sat him down. She was about to call for tea and water to serve him when she turned and caught a glimpse of bloodstains on the left sleeve of his robe from the corner of her eye. Her gaze fixed, and she gasped in shock, "Cousin, are you hurt?"
Pei You'an usually abstained from alcohol, but tonight in the main hall, all the chieftains from the southwest were present, each boasting great drinking prowess and vying to toast him. Unable to decline their enthusiasm, he had made an exception and taken a few rounds. Now, slightly affected by the wine, he followed her gaze and glanced down at his arm. Raising his eyes again, he saw her staring intently, her eyes wide with alarm. A sudden warmth filled his heart, and he reassured her, "It's just a scratch, nothing serious. Don't worry."
Jiafu exclaimed anxiously, "There's blood! How can you say it's nothing?" She turned and rummaged out the same bottle of ointment he had used on her before, washed her hands, and hurried back with it.
The cut on his arm had already been treated, and the bleeding had stopped. It was likely the alcohol that had stirred his blood, causing it to seep out again slightly. Though it was inconsequential, seeing her so worried and insistent on reapplying the medicine, he didn’t resist. He sat quietly, watching her fuss over him.
Jiafu removed his outer robe, rolled up the sleeve of his Underwear, and carefully unwound the bandage the guards had wrapped around his arm earlier. A wound several inches long was revealed, with blood slowly oozing out.
She had always been terrified of the sight of blood and gore, but now, the wound might as well have been on her own body—she felt no fear, only overwhelming concern. Gently, she applied the hemostatic ointment to his arm. Remembering how it had stung slightly when he had applied it to her that day, she pursed her lips slightly and leaned in, blowing softly on the wound.
The cool breeze from her breath soothed the wound, though it also tickled faintly, like the brush of a feather. Pei You'an clenched his teeth to keep from pulling his arm back. Her face was very close to his, and once again, he caught the delicate fragrance emanating from her hair and skin—utterly different from the deliberate perfumes she had worn when he first met her at the Duke's residence in the capital last year. She was warm, sweet, and soft, and he found himself gradually growing accustomed to this scent. Whenever he caught it, it inexplicably lifted his spirits.
"Cousin, bear with it a little longer. It won’t hurt soon. That’s how it was for me last time," she murmured soothingly, as if coaxing him.
The wine in Pei You'an's stomach seemed to surge again, leaving him pleasantly lightheaded. He slowly closed his eyes.
After finishing the application, Jiafu carefully rewrapped the bandage and lowered his sleeve. When she looked up and saw his eyes closed, as if overcome by the wine, she quickly moved to help him lie down. The moment her fingertips touched his shoulder, Pei You'an suddenly opened his eyes and raised a hand slightly to stop her. "Cousin," he said, his tone unexpectedly solemn, "there's something I need to tell you."
Jiafu paused, lifting her eyes in confusion.
"We’ll be returning tomorrow. Once we arrive, I’ll arrange for someone to escort you back to Quanzhou," he said gently.
It felt like a sudden hammer blow to Jiafu's chest. Her heart plummeted, and she stared at him, speechless for a moment.
Pei You'an smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten what I promised you before."
Though she had known he would send her away eventually, hearing it from his lips now was still too abrupt.Jiafu was truly unprepared, her mind in turmoil. After a moment to collect herself, she forced a smile. "Thank you, Cousin... but... must I leave right now?"
Pei You'an avoided her pleading gaze, answering with silence.
Jiafu's heart sank bit by bit.
"...Must I go now? Can't it wait a little longer? I promise I'll listen to you, Cousin. I won't lose my temper, won't pick fights, and I'll never make you angry again..."
Her voice trembled on the verge of tears.
Another wave of intoxication surged within him. Though the window was open, Pei You'an felt stifled, his throat tight, breath uneven. The drunkenness fermented in his chest, growing heavier by the minute.
She thought he was angry with her...
He steadied himself.
There was no harm in telling her the reason for sending her away. The situation had already unfolded, leaving no room for reversal. Soon enough, before she even reached Quanzhou, the entire world would know.
This was also why today's mediation had to succeed—failure was not an option.
"It's not about you. There's been an incident at the Prince's residence. I received word yesterday—the Emperor summoned the Heir Apparent to the capital under the pretext of ancestral rites. The Heir Apparent killed the envoy, forcing the King of the Clouds to take action."
Pei You'an's voice remained gentle and calm, as if afraid of startling her, as if he had long foreseen this day—only the catalyst had been unknown until now.
Now, all the answers had fallen into place.
Just days ago, another envoy arrived from the capital, summoning Xiao Yintang, the Heir Apparent of the King of the Clouds, to the capital immediately. The purpose, of course, was to hold him hostage. While the King of the Clouds stalled upon receiving the decree, Xiao Yintang had the envoy killed, making the decision for his father in this manner.
Jiafu was stunned.
She only knew that around this time, the Emperor would move against the King of the Clouds, war would break out, and eventually the King would enter the capital and ascend the throne.
But she hadn't known the true cause.
So this was the beginning of her nightmare in her past life.
Pei You'an studied her pale face, his voice softening further. "If my predictions hold, war will break out soon. I can no longer take you with me, and this place isn't safe. Quanzhou, however, is not a strategic military location and lies far from the conflict. It shouldn't be heavily affected—it should remain peaceful. Once you return, someone will protect you and your family. You needn't worry."
Jiafu didn't know who he intended to send for her protection, but since he had arranged it, she believed that for the time after her return, that person might indeed be able to shield her.
But what about the near future? Once the King of the Clouds became Emperor and Xiao Yintang the Crown Prince, the power at his disposal would be immense. If he still hadn't given up on her by then, could the person Pei You'an sent truly protect her against the might of the Crown Prince? And where would Pei You'an himself be by then?
Perhaps the most likely outcome was that this parting would be their last—she might never see Pei You'an again.
How she wished she could throw herself into his arms as she had when they first met at the courier station, clinging to him desperately, begging him to let her stay under his protection and not cast her out of his world.
But she knew this was his final decision—there would be no changing it.
She stared at him, dazed.He remained silent for a moment, then, as if overcome by drunkenness, lay down fully clothed, closed his eyes, and said in a calm voice that she could return to her room—he had no need for her to stay.
Jiafu returned to the room adjacent to his in a daze, her entire being gripped tightly by a sense of impending doom.
Knowing the terrible things that would happen in the future, yet powerless to escape, watching helplessly as they approached step by step—that was the greatest fear.
The night deepened, and the Tusi mansion gradually quieted. Jiafu held her breath, pressing her ear tightly against the wall, straining to hear any movement from the neighboring room.
He was drunk, sleeping deeply. Jiafu listened for a long time but heard not a single sound.
Hugging her knees, she curled up in the corner of the bed, her body motionless in the shadows of the night. After sitting like this for a long while, she finally climbed down from the bed and slipped out silently.
...
Pei You'an was drunk tonight.
When he had first returned, the drunkenness might not have been so deep, but after sending her away, his mood darkened, and the intoxication surged from all sides, overwhelming him completely.
In the end, he even began to dream—dreaming of some fragmented memories from the past, about a sixteen-year-old boy.
That year, the boy had escorted his father’s spirit back from the battlefield to the capital. On the night after the funeral, filled with sorrow, he went to visit his ailing mother, Madam Xin.
The servants said Madam Xin was still in the small mourning hall. He went to find her and saw her back.
She stood alone before his father’s memorial tablet, her figure rigid.
The boy stood at the entrance of the mourning hall, about to enter, when suddenly Madam Xin began to curse the tablet in a low voice, her tone filled with such hatred.
"Sixteen years!"
"You heartless man!"
"I acknowledged the bastard you brought from outside as my son, watched him steal everything that should have belonged to my own child! And now you just die like this?"
"He’s the one who should die! Why isn’t he dead yet? Didn’t they say he wouldn’t live past ten? How many years has it been now?"
The poor widow, lost in her endless grief and resentment, did not notice that the boy had come—and quietly left.
In the dream, this boy was noble in status, brilliant and extraordinary. In the eyes of others, he was heaven’s favored one, his only regret in life being his frail health. But only the boy himself knew that his illness was not his unspeakable pain—his true suffering came from the way his mother treated him.
He had been precocious by nature. While other children his age were still naive and oblivious, he had already sensed that Madam Xin did not like him. Not only did she not like him, but she harbored a deep loathing for him. In private, the way she had looked at him became an indelible shadow that haunted him for many years as he grew up. No matter how outstanding he was—indeed, the more outstanding he became—the more she seemed to despise him. But his innate restraint ensured that he would never reveal the shadows in his heart to another soul. Not even before his father or grandmother would he utter a single word. He would bear it alone.
Yet even so, it did not stop him from wanting to mend his relationship with Madam Xin—especially now that his father had just passed away.When he was young, he had once guessed that Madam Xin disliked him perhaps because of his poor health. So he studied medicine and practiced martial arts, hoping that one day he could have a healthy body like everyone else.
He didn’t know that Madam Xin’s dislike for him stemmed from his shameful origins.
He was not the legitimate eldest son of the Pei family.
He was merely a bastard child his father had brought home from outside.
This unintentionally discovered secret plunged the sixteen-year-old boy into immense self-denial and loathing. Everything he had once taken for granted collapsed overnight.
Then, three months later, on a certain late night when his father’s mourning period was nearing its end, the incident that would later shape his entire life occurred.
One of his father’s concubines hanged herself from a tree in front of his residence in the dead of night. When her body was discovered the next morning, rumors began to spread. Some claimed they had seen him violate her, and that the concubine, unable to bear the humiliation, had hanged herself in front of his dwelling in protest.
He left the capital, thus ending his youth.
What was never his to begin with—he returned it. It was only right.
……
As an adult, Pei You'an, who had always been a light sleeper, rarely dreamed.
But tonight, he found himself trapped in an unpleasant dream. In it, he returned to his youth—a time that appeared glorious to outsiders but was, for him, nothing but oppressive gloom. In a daze, the boy in the dream seemed to collapse once more in the icy wilderness beyond the frontier, surrounded by severed limbs and bleached bones, a scene straight from hell. Alternating between chills and fever, restless in his torment, a familiar warmth and sweetness suddenly filled his senses. Something soft and delicate nestled in his arms, and gradually, the darkness of the dream began to disperse. Unconsciously, he clung to this warmth, chasing after it in his dream, reluctant to let go.
When Jiafu was pulled into Pei You'an’s embrace, she stiffened in surprise. After a moment, feeling the scorching heat of his wine-laden breath against her face, she realized he was still asleep. A faint tremble ran through her body, her heart pounding wildly, her skin burning hot.
So be it. Shameless or not, she would hold onto him and not let go until he sobered up.
Resolved, Jiafu nestled even closer, curling fully into his arms. Her lashes fluttered before she slowly closed her eyes.
OpenNovel