Consort Jing Chapter 46

Among the countless boats sailing south along the canal, one small vessel was particularly solemn. The guards surrounding its cabin alone made clear its owner’s high rank. Yet unlike other nobles, whose journeys were marked by crowds of servants and pomp, this ship sailed swiftly and silently, as if in haste.

Inside was indeed a person of great importance, Zhao Donglin, lying unconscious. In his dreams, he was trapped in an endless nightmare, unable to open his eyes or move a finger. He dreamed of standing before a sea of fire, great ships burning within it. The Empress was on one of those ships, trapped like him, unable to escape. He watched helplessly as she was swallowed by flames and water, his heart breaking. He woke with a start, shouting, “Empress!”

Staring up at the golden canopy above, he slowly came to his senses. When he tried to sit up, pain seared through his arm, forcing him back down. Hearing movement, someone rushed in and knelt by his bed. “Your Majesty, the imperial physician said these wounds are grave upon grave. You must rest well, or your arm may never recover full use.”

At the mention, Tan Ying shuddered in belated fear. They should never have stopped outside Yuncheng that night, had they just continued to the capital, none of it would’ve happened: the fire, the assassins, even Consort Jing… But Zhao Donglin didn’t seem to hear. He sat up again, dressing, his voice direct: “How’s the investigation? Has the Empress’s whereabouts been confirmed?”

“We found clues. It seems there were two groups involved with the fireworks boat. One hired a gang of Yuncheng thugs with heavy payment to approach our convoy at that exact moment and set off fireworks. The two we captured couldn’t identify who hired them, but one mentioned the employer spoke with a northwestern accent…” Northwestern, too broad a region to pinpoint. But the person Tan Ying most suspected… was also the one he’d instinctively thought perished in the flames.

He’d thought it near impossible the Empress survived that night but the Emperor refused to believe she was dead. He’d immediately sent Li Weiwei to investigate, and sure enough, found many traces. If the results were indeed what Tan Ying feared, then… He glanced up at the Emperor, whose black eyes churned with barely contained storm, and quickly lowered his head. “There were two groups of assassins. The first batch confessed, they were from Former Yan, same as the two stationed at Putuo Temple but they swore they hadn’t used poison.”

“The second group,” Tan Ying continued, “was far more skilled, came fast, and left even faster. Rather than assassins, they seemed like… reinforcements. And they were clearly martial world folk.” Those were hard to track but in the past few days, while pursuing south, they’d clashed several times with the followers of Xiao Shizi. Their methods were identical to the mysterious assailants’. The implication was obvious.

It was only then that Tan Ying fully understood why, upon discovering the Empress missing, the Emperor not only ordered an investigation but also sent riders after Xiao Shizi’s trail. Since the Shizi was a political hostage in the capital, his every move was supposed to be monitored but he had always been elusive, rarely appearing in public. Worse still, in the mere three to five days of the Emperor’s journey, he too had vanished. The court’s watchers reported it, scoured the area for seven or eight days with no success, and were about to give up when, by chance, they spotted one of Xiao Shizi’s usual attendants near Yuncheng. Following him led them to a large boat guarded tightly by men.

And on the very night the Emperor was attacked, Xiao Shizi had boarded that ship with one person and sailed south.

The scout didn’t know exactly who the shizi, Xiao Shuo, had taken with him but it was said that after the two boarded the ship, the person in Xiao Shuo’s arms had struggled violently, even shouting for help until the cabin door closed and all went silent.

If His Majesty hadn’t deliberately concealed the news of Consort Jing’s disappearance, the fact that Xiao Shuo had left the capital and forcibly taken a young woman with him would have been reported long ago. As soon as Tan Ying heard this description, he immediately guessed that the person Xiao Shuo had taken was very likely the consort herself. The emperor believed this as well, without the slightest doubt, and, despite his injuries, personally set out to pursue them, while urgently ordering local officials to send men to intercept.

“Xiao Shizi has abducted Niang Niang and is heading straight toward Fulan. Is he not afraid that the Wu army will march on Fulan and flatten it? Fortunately, they still have two days before changing onto the final ship. I’ve already sent several groups ahead to block them. Your Majesty, however anxious you may be, please take care of your body first.”

Tan Ying truly feared for the emperor’s health. That second wave of assassins, supposedly just “taking advantage of the chaos”, had in the end still made their move when they saw the emperor rush toward the consort’s ship. Though Tan Ying and over a dozen men protected him closely, the emperor himself had charged forward, sword in hand, and was wounded again after the enemy broke through their formation. His previous injuries hadn’t yet healed, and this time things were even worse. The imperial physician had said this new wound was critical, if not properly treated, the emperor’s left arm would never regain its former strength or flexibility.

Zhao Donglin understood Tan Ying’s concern. He summoned the scouts who had been tracking the fugitives. According to their reports, Xiao Shuo treated the woman he had taken very well, rarely leaving her side, keeping her close in the cabin day after day. Every evening, he took her ashore for walks, spending lavishly just to make her smile. Listening to these reports made Zhao Donglin wish he could tear Xiao Shuo limb from limb. What stoked his fury and jealousy most was that Xiao Shuo had been sharing a cabin with her since boarding the ship.

When he first heard this, Zhao Donglin wanted nothing more than to fly there himself and cut down that man he had never even deigned to notice before. How dare Xiao Shuo? That was his Empress. The bitterness and pain in his chest nearly drowned him. Only then did he truly understand why she had so stubbornly refused to return to the inner palace, so this was how it felt, to hear that the person you loved most was with someone else, whispering and touching in intimacy.

Even though simply sharing a cabin didn’t prove anything, he couldn’t stop torturing himself with the image. Just imagining Xiao Shuo kissing her was enough to make his heart feel as though it would split apart.

Zhao Donglin lowered his gaze to his left hand. He knew exactly what the physician meant, and he himself could feel the weakness in his arm after the injury. But if the Empress had truly been carried off to Fulan by Xiao Shuo, if, when he finally crushed Fulan beneath his army, she was no longer there, what then? He could not give up on her, not at any cost.

Meanwhile, Meng Guqing’s heart was hanging suspended as their boat neared the Fengling Crossing. Ever since Xiao Shuo had asked her, “Do you want to see your former husband?”, she hadn’t wanted to respond to that mocking smile of his but she couldn’t help worrying that Zhao Donglin really was in pursuit.

She feared being dragged away by Xiao Shuo into a life of endless flight and danger, yet she feared even more being captured by Zhao Donglin and brought back to the palace. Between the suffocating torment of life in the harem and the uncertainty of escape, she would rather endure hardship if it meant a few days of freedom.

At first, she had worried Xiao Shuo was traveling too quickly for her to find a chance to flee but now her feelings were mixed. Restless, unable to eat or sleep properly, she finally stood up when the ship stopped. Looking out at the wide river, she saw no other boats, and the scenery didn’t match what the grand Fengling Crossing should look like. Stepping outside, she found Xiao Shuo at the door. The river breeze lifted the hair beside her cheek, and her eyes, clear as autumn water, shimmered faintly with worry.

“What’s this? About to see your former husband, and you’re happy about it?”

His tone was sharp and mocking, obviously eaten alive by jealousy, yet insisting on bringing it up again and again. Was he trying to desensitize himself?

Meng Guqing wanted to retort, but she had no mood for it. She sighed. “Now’s not the time for jokes. Where are we? Why did we stop?”

“This place is still ten li from Fengling Crossing. Do you believe that the moment we reach it, Zhao Donglin’s men will surround us? Forget Fulan, he’d kill me on the spot if he could.”

He said it without fear, even with a strange thrill and anticipation in his voice. Meng Guqing couldn’t understand the twisted logic of a madman. Worried, she asked, “Then what are we staying here for? Can’t we go another way?” They’d been chased constantly these past two days, his men clashing with their pursuers again and again.

She already suspected whose men they were and from Xiao Shuo’s words, she knew they were after her. She wanted to say, Why not just set me down and go on your own? It would be far easier for him to escape alone. But whenever she even hinted at such thoughts, he would block her coldly:

“Forget it. If one day I die, I’ll make sure to kill you first. You’ll keep me company on the road to the Yellow Springs. Then, in the next life, we’ll be reborn in the same place, grow up together from childhood. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Meng Guqing was speechless. No sane person could follow the logic of a lunatic. His insistence on staying put, even as danger approached, made her so angry she couldn’t eat. When she refused food, Xiao Shuo caught her and made her sit down, looking ready to feed her himself, even teasing her, “You’re scared of this little danger? What’ll you do later then…? Come on, eat. It’s not good, I know, but have a bit. Once tomorrow’s over, I’ll find a cook who suits your taste. Bear with it for now.”

He made it sound as though she were some pampered lady and with the way he held the bowl toward her like she was a lab mouse, who could eat like that? Meng Guqing quickly pushed his hand away, struggling free from his arms, and before he could grab her again, she sat across from him and said hastily, “I’ll eat myself. You eat too. If he really comes later with a large force, you should just go.”

She still thought it’d be easier to escape from Zhao Donglin than from Xiao Shuo. After all, the emperor had an empire to rule, whereas the man before her, well, it wasn’t that he was idle, but he truly seemed to have no serious affairs. Who else watched someone twenty-four hours a day like this?

But her well-meant suggestion only made the little madman bristle. His eyes glinted coldly, as though insulted. “You think I can’t beat Zhao Donglin? Even if you don’t believe in me, you should at least trust your own taste in men, you should pick better each time, right?”

Was he praising her or himself? She decided it was best not to argue while eating. Trying to soothe him, she said, “Of course I believe in you. It’s just, you said yourself we’ve got people blocking the front and chasing from behind, and this is his territory. You only brought a dozen men, and I can’t even defend myself. If you think about it, we really don’t have much chance.”

Truthfully, in terms of martial skill, Xiao Shuo was one of the rare few in the world. His ghostlike qinggong skill alone she had never seen matched. It was said the Regent and Jing Wang were both formidable, one a strategist, the other immensely strong, and even Tan Ying was known for his upright, disciplined fighting. But she had a feeling that against Xiao Shuo, any of them could easily fall prey to his unpredictable tricks.

After that tasteless meal, dusk deepened. The calm river turned black, like a gaping abyss. Though the night air was still warm, there was something restless in it, a stirring of danger that even she could sense. Xiao Shuo’s men, usually unseen but always around, had gone completely silent. Before, she would sometimes hear them chatting softly with the boatmen, or hear movement from the back of the ship but tonight, not a sound. It was as if the entire vessel had gone empty. The wind and water seemed amplified in the quiet, and she could hardly sit still.

The man with her, however, still had the leisure to ask if she wanted to play chess. Play chess? Now? She stared at him, unable to comprehend how he could stay so calm.

Then he said, almost lazily, “All those little amusements you collected in Fengyi Palace… someone else must be enjoying them now.”

Wait, had he actually been in Fengyi Palace? Meng Guqing stared in disbelief. “How do you know about that? They’re nothing important, I just used to fiddle with them when I was bored.”

When she’d later moved to the Imperial Parks, space was too small to keep much, so most were left behind. Thinking of them now made her feel unexpectedly wistful.

Thankfully, she had carried money with her, Fusang had sewn waterproof paper pouches into two of her garments. When Xiao Shuo had stripped off her peasant disguise earlier and wanted to throw it away, she had fought hard to keep it, noticing the suspicious look he’d given her. He had probably guessed there was something hidden in the clothes, but at least hadn’t taken them. Just after dinner, he’d even handed the garments back, asking whether she wanted to change.

Feeling awkward, she packed the clothes neatly into her small bundle and placed it beside her. Across from her, Xiao Shuo sat cleaning a thin, sharp sword. The gleam of the blade reflected in his eyes, cold and dangerous. His face, beautiful and ambiguous, seemed almost unreal, his build lean and tall, his hands strong and elegant, his posture lazy yet predatory.

A thought crossed her mind, wildly out of place: “You were a fine man, why become a thief?” She caught herself daydreaming and quickly withdrew her gaze.

But her shift in attention immediately displeased the little madman who had been quite prepared for her to stare longer, he had even changed his pose for it. With a push of his foot, he slid across the floor, vaulting over the table to land before her, stealing a kiss on her lips before she could react. His eyes glimmered, sultry and faintly reproachful.

“Why’d you stop looking?”

So he had noticed her watching him? And he wasn’t even angry? She remembered how, once, when Fusang had dared look at him too long, he’d threatened to gouge out her eyes. That time, he’d appeared out of nowhere on a deserted riverbank—who wouldn’t have been terrified? Since then, Meng Guqing had carefully reminded herself never to stare at him. But now, it seemed, he didn’t mind after all.

No, perhaps this strange exception was something he allowed only for her.

Earlier, when they’d gone ashore for a stroll, they had just disembarked when they ran into a young lady coming their way. The girl froze, staring at him with a stunned, admiring look. He, without a word, kicked clean through the trunk of a willow tree as thick as a man’s leg, then smiled coldly and sinisterly. The poor young lady’s face turned paper-white; she hastily grabbed her maid and fled.

Meng Guqing, too, had been startled by his sudden violence. Still shaken, she glanced toward a peddler who’d been hit by a falling branch and said quietly, “You hit someone. You’ll have to pay for that, won’t you?”

As always, one of the attendants, long accustomed to cleaning up after him, went over to settle the matter with the vendor.

Meng Guqing looked at the dangerously beautiful face so close before her, her thoughts complicated. Of course she was only human, and she could appreciate a handsome man but from the very beginning, she had never thought of him in that way. Not until he kidnapped her this time, talking so fervently about “taking her home,” did she start to recognize his feelings. Perhaps, in his mind, what they had was genuine “love.” But for her, it was too abrupt, she couldn’t quite adjust. Though his alternating tenderness and teasing sometimes moved her, she couldn’t honestly say she felt the intensity of romantic passion.

Meng Guqing averted her gaze a little awkwardly, about to suggest that he move away, when Xiao Shuo suddenly turned alert like a hunting leopard sensing danger. In a flash, he rolled over beside her, pulled her up into his arms, and said softly, with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes, “They’re here.”

After he spoke, silence reigned outside for a while until faint, distinct hoofbeats and a jumble of footsteps reached them. The uneasy quiet made her heart tighten.

“Xiao Shizi,” came Tan Ying’s voice from outside, “come out and hand over the person you’ve taken. His Majesty is willing to pardon you for what’s past.”

Meng Guqing turned to look at Xiao Shuo. He was smiling, beautifully, and infuriatingly. “Don’t even think about it. Remember what I said? Even if I die, I’ll take you with me. In this lifetime, you’ll never escape me.”

All she could do was sigh. His men, as if confirming his words, clashed outside almost immediately. The sound of arrows striking the hull, of blades biting into wood, came like a downpour. She suspected their boat was bristling like a hedgehog.

Xiao Shuo took her hand and led her to the side of the ship nearest shore. One glance revealed a dense mass of shadows along the riverbank. At this point, she was only a burden, staying out of the way was help enough. He guided her swiftly, light on his feet, grinning brightly amid the chaos. “Scared?”

“No.” What good would fear do now? She was already on a pirate’s ship. Even if she begged him to abandon her, there was no guarantee she could make it out alive.

Fortunately, the rain of arrows soon stopped, though the sounds of fighting drew closer. Then she felt a sudden tightening at her waist and the next instant, the ground dropped away. He had leapt with her, light as a shadow, touching down on a tree branch and springing off again, flying toward the distance.

Glancing back, she saw that their boat was surrounded by four large ships and on the prow of the grandest one stood a tall figure in pale robes: Zhao Donglin.

The moment he spotted them breaking through, he gave chase. Xiao Shuo’s men were few; they fought and retreated until they reached a clearing by a bamboo grove. Soldiers swarmed in like a tide. Only seven or eight of Xiao Shuo’s people remained. Where were the rest? Had they fallen? For warriors so skilled to die here, Zhao Donglin’s forces must be formidable indeed.

Another man who refused to let her go, Meng Guqing sighed. He heard her and actually had the breath to tease her, still steady even after such a chase: “Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid?”

“What do we do now?”

“Meet your ex-husband,” he replied lightly.

“…”

Under the bright moon, the encircled soldiers parted to form a path. The Emperor himself stepped out, tall and commanding, his dark eyes fixed unwaveringly on the woman half-embraced by Xiao Shuo as if one blink would make her vanish. After a long pause, he spoke hoarsely: “Mingzhu’er, come here.”

Meng Guqing wasn’t sure if she’d heard right. His voice was so weak, so faint. Then it hit her: he was injured, gravely so. Two assassination attempts, one poison unresolved, the second attack perilous beyond measure, he must have come here still wounded.

A pang of sorrow pricked her heart. She had said it before: in love, she owed him. If only he could have let go, he needn’t suffer like this. Such obsession only hurt them both.

She wanted to tell him, to end it here, stop forcing what was impossible, but Xiao Shuo must have sensed her momentary softening. He lowered his head, voice taut with displeasure. “Feeling sorry for him? If you want to go back with him, I’ll give you one chance.”

The two of them, whispering together in close embrace, made a picture that stabbed Zhao Donglin’s heart. His gaze turned sharp as blades toward the man who had stolen his wife.

Tan Ying stepped forward at the right moment: “Xiao Shizi, as a hostage of Fulan, do you not care about your homeland at all? If Wu Dynasty’s army marches on Fulan because of you, how will you answer to them?”

“Then let them take Fulan if they have the ability.” His tone was arrogant, his manner defiant, as though Fulan’s fate meant nothing to him.

Tan Ying was left speechless. He looked toward Zhao Donglin, who stood bathed in moonlight, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. The Emperor’s left hand hung limp at his side, a painful sight.

Zhao Donglin, however, seemed oblivious to everything around him. His eyes saw only the woman who had once died and come back but who now refused to stand by him, who had faked her death just to escape him. The ache in his heart thickened into helpless sorrow. Yet even then, he couldn’t hate her. He only wanted her back.

“I know you didn’t leave by choice,” he said, extending a trembling hand. “He kidnapped you, didn’t he? Just come back. I’ll pretend none of this ever happened. Your maid and your family will not be harmed.”

Hearing that, Meng Guqing immediately turned to glare at Xiao Shuo. She had every reason to suspect he was the one who’d given away their whereabouts. And Zhao Donglin’s words struck her weakness: she had fought so hard all this time precisely to keep her family safe.

“Nothing ever happened?” Xiao Shuo sneered. “So you can lock her in the Cold Palace again? Let her watch your harem and concubines while you sacrifice her for your throne?”

The words cut deep. Zhao Donglin swayed, almost falling, he was clearly seriously hurt.

“And what right have you to judge me?” Zhao Donglin shot back. “Do you treat her any better? Does she even want to go with you? Is the title of ‘Fulan Wangfei’ really such an honor?”

The tension between them, long simmering beneath the surface, finally broke into open hostility, each striking straight at the other’s weakness.

If Meng Guqing could choose, she’d stay far away from both of them. But her fate was in Zhao Donglin’s hands. When he called again, softly, pleadingly, “Mingzhu’er, come here,” she hesitated, torn, and after a long moment, took half a step forward.

Almost the same instant her foot touched the ground, a sharp bamboo whistle shrieked from outside the grove. Xiao Shuo and his remaining men leapt skyward, breaking through the encirclement.

A quarter of an hour later, they reached a deserted dock. A large ship waited there, silent. Xiao Shuo carried her aboard; the boat pushed off at once.

Zhao Donglin arrived soon after, bow drawn. Without hesitation, he aimed straight for her and Xiao Shuo. Xiao Shuo kicked up a bow from the deck, caught it midair, and drew an arrow in reply, both men taking aim at one another like mortal enemies.

Zhao Donglin was badly wounded, not Xiao Shuo’s match. Even his last words had been breathless and strained. If he kept this up, he would only lose. Meng Guqing couldn’t bear it anymore; she grabbed Xiao Shuo’s arm. “Don’t. We’ve already escaped. Don’t fight him.”

“But you just took a step toward him. You want to go back so why should I let him live?”

Meng Guqing was speechless. Wasn’t it he who’d just said he’d give her a chance? So it had been a test all along?

As she said nothing, Xiao Shuo released the bowstring. Two arrows streaked through the night, their collision midair a sharp, metallic scream. Xiao Shuo’s arrow cut straight through Zhao Donglin’s weakened shot, continuing toward his face.

Meng Guqing covered her eyes, unable to look. Silence fell, the tension of pursuit melted into the vast, quiet night.

When she opened her eyes again, the ship was far from shore. On the bank stood a solitary white figure, unmoving, watching them go.

Zhao Donglin stared after the receding boat until the two blurred silhouettes at its prow were swallowed by darkness. The pain in his left arm, from drawing the bow, spread inward unchecked. A crushing hollowness seized his chest; his breath surged hot and wild and a mouthful of blood spilled from his lips before he collapsed, unconscious.

From afar, Meng Guqing could only see that pale figure fall, caught clumsily by those around him. A strange calm filled her heart. Perhaps, at last, this long entanglement had come to its end. Let it be. Their roads had always been separate; they were never meant to last.

When she turned back, she found another problem waiting, his face dark, clearly displeased. Lest he accuse her again of “lingering feelings,” she spoke first: “I told you not to hurt him because he held back against us. On the ship, he could’ve kept shooting and forced us out. Even when we escaped the encirclement, your men’s qinggong skills are great, but could you really withstand a rain of arrows?”

In truth, Zhao Donglin hadn’t held back for mercy, he’d simply feared hurting the woman in Xiao Shuo’s arms. But Xiao Shuo didn’t bother correcting her. He just snorted coldly.

“You think I hit him? That last arrow, Tan Ying cut it in two.”

For that one instant, he truly had wanted to kill the man who had once possessed all of her. But then the thought struck him, people always romanticize what they lose. If he really killed Zhao Donglin, and she spent the rest of her life pining for a dead man… wouldn’t that drive him mad?

So, better to let him live— 

Live somewhere far beyond his reach, where he can only look at her from afar.