The moment the curtains were drawn aside, it was as though all the exhaustion and irritation that had burdened him throughout the evening were swept away.
A spring breeze powerful enough to shake mountains seemed to rush into his very soul, leaving his mind completely blank.
Not a single word of what he had meant to say remained.
His gaze wandered.
From the pale green embroidered slippers adorned with lotus patterns up over the warm jade-like body reclining before him until finally it came to rest upon the pair of slender wrists, tightly bound together with cloth.
A light pink ruqun embroidered with gold traced the outline of a slender, graceful figure. Though the color was soft and alluring without being gaudy, the broad lotus-colored sash cinched the waist into such a narrow span that it seemed both of his hands could encircle it. Following the line of that waist upward, however, the chest remained flat. Anyone who was not blind could tell that this was a young man.
Ying Wuji had seen men dressed as women before at Mi Rong’s residence. They were usually beautiful boys of eleven or twelve. Yet no matter how lovely they were, there was always something strange and vulgar about seeing a perfectly good boy dressed as a girl.
But this one…
There was none of that.
The slightly disheveled twin maiden buns only accentuated the lively charm of that face. Rosy cheeks, apricot eyes, before such beauty, the boundary between man and woman seemed no longer important.
He suddenly remembered their first meeting three years ago. Back then, he had been crawling through mud and filth, looking up to see this person as though an immortal child had descended from the heavens.
“What are you doing!” The undisguised cry of disgust finally snapped him back to his senses.
Only then did he realize that he had been about to reach out and touch her.
That single rebuke was enough to restore Ying Wuji’s composure. Frowning, he turned slightly away from the couch, avoiding the sight before him. He picked up a wine flask from the nearby table and took a long drink.
Then he casually grabbed a pastry, finished it in two bites, brushed the crumbs from his hands, and mocked, “It seems you and Younger Brother Rong were having quite the pleasant conversation. I suppose I was the one who interrupted. I’ll go downstairs and call him back.”
At those words, Zhao Shu immediately struggled to sit up. “Don’t…”
But she had drunk wine and endured far too much shock that evening. As she twisted to rise, all strength left her arm, and she collapsed back onto the couch.
This night had truly exhausted her.
As she lay there weakly after falling back, looking only at the broad, jade-like back of the man standing before the couch, a faint sense of trust, one she herself was unwilling to acknowledge, rose amid her humiliation.
Her voice caught in her throat as she said dejectedly, “He tied my wrists too tightly. They hurt terribly. Untie them for me first.”
Her reputation as a skilled horsewoman and archer was widely known. Fearing she would resist, Mi Rong had bound her wrists with all his strength. In only this short time, both wrists had already become swollen and numb, burning as though they might be severed at any moment.
She possessed little martial skill herself. What she truly excelled at was medicine.
She knew that if her arms remained tied like this, they might well be permanently damaged within the hour.
That was why she asked.
She had expected him to make things difficult or deliberately delay. Instead, no sooner had the words left her mouth than someone grasped her arm and pulled her upright. Before she had even steadied herself, the pressure around her wrists loosened. The cloth bindings had already been removed.
Just as she was about to thank him, Ying Wuji stood and walked away from the couch. Heading toward the display shelves, he casually threw out another remark. “You couldn’t even pour wine or serve tea without causing trouble. Young Master, you’re even more useless than I gave you credit for.”
His robes flowed elegantly, his bearing graceful as ever. Yet his words remained just as cold and contemptuous, as though determined to grind another person into the dirt.
Zhao Shu’s eyes instantly reddened as she sprang to her feet. The words of thanks died unspoken.
Lian Yu’s words earlier that day had already stripped away every last fragment of hope she possessed.
Now, hearing this felt like someone seizing upon her deepest wound and sprinkling salt into it. Especially because the words came from Ying Wuji, from someone who had once survived only by depending upon her.
Now their stations had been completely reversed.
None of the humiliations she had suffered compared to a single sentence from this man, for only his words made her truly understand the reality of her circumstances.
The soul that had drifted hollowly all day seemed at last to fall back into her body. And the moment it returned, the agony of losing her country, of having nowhere left to belong, returned with it.
Cruel.
Powerless.
Zhao Shu opened her mouth, wanting to answer him in kind. But the moment she remembered that even the Royal Zhou had abandoned her, all the strength behind her anger simply vanished.
She slowly walked over to the wine vessel. Using both hands, she lifted the ram-horn-shaped handles and attempted to pour wine into a bronze goblet. The heavy bronze vessel had been cast in the shape of a golden ram leaping forward. Nearly an arm’s length tall and weighing a full jun, it sloshed as the wine spilled inside.
In a quiet voice she said, “I never realized before… that even serving as a wine attendant isn’t an easy task.”
The colorful lantern light reflected across her face yet it only made her seem all the more lifeless.
A hand reached over to steady the heavy wine vessel before setting it firmly back down then she was gently guided back to sit upon the couch. A cool sensation spread across her wrists. Instinctively, she tried to pull away. But her arm was lightly restrained. As the pain in her wrists gradually subsided, she finally looked up at him in astonishment.
Ying Wuji had lowered his eyes. Holding a small porcelain bottle between his fingers, he carefully sprinkled medicinal powder over the abrasions circling her wrists. His sword-like brows were dark and sharply defined. His face was as exquisitely handsome as carved jade.
Sensing her gaze upon him, the corner of his lips curved upward. Another teasing remark followed, tinged with his usual roguish mockery. “Life is difficult for everyone in this world. In this age of the Five Turbidities, it truly is a grievance for someone as heavenly as the Young Master.”
The person beside him said nothing. Still smiling, he raised his brows. His emerald eyes were as clear as mountain springs. But the instant he saw the expression on her face, that malicious smile froze and quietly disappeared. A flicker of bewilderment crossed those green eyes.
He had already decided that he would slowly break her spirit. Yet the moment he saw the mist gathering within those apricot eyes, an inexplicable heaviness settled in his chest.
It was an emotion he could neither explain nor understand.
As though resentment and longing existed side by side, pulling his heart in opposite directions.
In truth, that feeling had first arisen atop the city walls that day. When his fingers rested upon the trigger of his crossbow and his gaze followed the bolt to the figure standing below, that same tangled emotion had already taken root. Until now, he had been too occupied with memories of the past.
Only tonight, after drinking a little wine and studying her beneath the lantern light, was he finally forced to admit the truth. His resentment toward her had never disappeared. Yet seeing her brought so low, an unbearable ache rose within him all the same.
It had become impossible to ignore.
Avoiding her eyes once again, Ying Wuji felt only growing irritation. If anything, he seemed to despise himself even more.
“I haven’t had a proper meal all day.” His tone finally softened. Pulling several plates of pastries and bowls of soup toward himself, he sat sideways beside her and quietly began eating.
Earlier that day, Young Master Jia and another of his elder half-brothers had both demanded control of the same territory. The dispute was giving him a headache, and his grandfather had yet to make a decision. For that reason, Ying Wuji had not intended to return to his own residence tonight.
After finishing a bowl of lotus soup in only a few bites, he noticed the unease of the person beside him. While absentmindedly considering affairs of state, he offered another reminder, this time almost kindly. “Younger Brother Rong is fond of collecting famous chefs, especially those skilled at soups and pastries. Compared with the food here, even the meals served at the Imperial Grandson’s residence are little more than coarse fare to fill one’s stomach. You should eat something too.”
When he had entered earlier, he had already noticed that the servants were clearing away untouched dishes.
Apparently, neither of them had eaten much at all.
Court affairs had been keeping him occupied. Besides the dispute over the fief, another pressing matter had occupied him of late, along the Qin-Zhou border, Prince Yi was secretly arranging for two months’ worth of grain supplies to be transferred.
The fortunes of war were never certain. If events were to unfold as he envisioned, it would be no easy undertaking.
Zhao Shu watched as he silently drank cup after cup of wine. Even the way he ate his soup and dishes remained just as rough and unrefined as before. This Ying Wuji was utterly unlike the composed and elegant Imperial Grandson he presented to the world in flowing robes and dignified bearing.
Perhaps this was the real him.
She too had been drinking, and now found herself staring at him in silence.
This weary, genuine side of him strangely gave rise to a sense of familiarity and reassurance.
Seeing that every meat dish had been pushed entirely to her side of the table, she picked up a slice of roasted meat with her chopsticks, chewed it thoughtfully, and remarked almost absentmindedly, “So you’ve still kept your habit of not eating meat.”
Ying Wuji emerged from his thoughts and answered with a question instead. “The stories you’ve picked up from your travels would make excellent tales for a storyteller. That Haidong falcon just now, and the Yiqu people’s stirrups, I had never heard of either before. The night’s still long. Tell me a few more.”
The two of them sat side by side upon the couch, turned slightly toward one another. He absentmindedly held a bronze wine cup in one hand, never once glancing sideways at her again. The mockery had disappeared from his tone. Instead, it sounded as though two old friends were simply reminiscing after years apart.
The candlelight flickered. Colored lantern shades cast a warm glow throughout the room. The fragrance of food and wine carried with it the faint scent of sandalwood lingering upon him. He sat before the table with his robes casually drawn aside, drinking and eating with broad, unconstrained movements. His massive iron sword hung from the incense rack against the wall.
Beyond the window lay the cold moon and the wind across the lake. Inside, everything was warm and peaceful.
However cutting his words might be, he would never actually harm her.
The defenses around Zhao Shu’s heart slowly relaxed. Finding the roasted meat surprisingly tender and the preserved fruits pleasantly sweet, she tucked her legs beneath herself behind the table, leaning comfortably against it as she sipped wine and recounted stories from years gone by.
…
By midnight, the wine had grown steadily stronger. For the past hour, what had begun as a conversation had gradually become Zhao Shu alone talking and laughing without pause.
The colored lanterns transformed the room before her drunken eyes into a world of crystal. The man before her remained silent. At first glance, the way he reclined upon the couch suggested he too had become intoxicated, like a jade mountain on the verge of collapse. Yet those emerald eyes watching her remained clear, calm, and heavy with thought.
“Last year Zhao abolished every punishment more severe than flogging. Even Brother Ruhui opposed it. The ministers argued for ages before Royal Father finally agreed. Only that old censor kept making grand speeches about preserving the laws of our ancestors. Do you know… how I finally made him agree?”
Bracing herself against the back of a chair while clutching the wine vessel, Zhao Shu suddenly climbed onto the seat itself and squatted there. She grinned triumphantly. Without noticing that someone had already replaced the strong liquor with sweet rice wine, she tilted back another large cup. Laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, she continued, “That old man impeached officials every single day. Yet he himself was carrying on with General Zuo’s new wife. I merely borrowed Yingying’s name to invite that lady out once, and that old fool signed his approval the very same day.”
Smacking her lips, she frowned slightly at the strange taste.
Without the slightest concern for propriety, she jumped down from the chair, strode over, and snatched back the real wine from the table. Muttering as she poured herself another cup, she said, “You Qin people certainly have no shortage of punishments. I’m not trying to curse you, but one day Heaven’s retribution is bound to come. Hah… I only ever used my Crown Prince’s seal once, and those censoring officials nearly nagged me to death.”
Ying Wuji had long since finished eating. He had drunk only enough alcohol to become faintly flushed. He simply remained there, accompanying her. At first, he had genuinely been captivated by Zhao Shu’s stories of traveling through the various states. Later, however, her words gradually lost all coherence, tumbling together in confused disorder. Still, he simply let her continue.
The one speaking became increasingly drunk. The one listening, however, grew increasingly sober.
She wandered about with wine cup in hand, muddled and utterly lacking in decorum. Yet to his eyes, she appeared only innocent, lively, and irresistibly natural. Pink robes, lotus-colored sash, twin hair buns like drifting clouds. She seemed almost like a clever little forest rabbit that had somehow taken human form.
As his gaze unconsciously followed her every movement, it gradually acquired an emotion he himself could not identify.
Her sash had loosened, hanging crookedly at her waist. Even wrapped in such tightly fitted robes, she looked impossibly fragile. Without warning, heat flared within his chest. Mixed into that heat was an inexplicable bitterness.
Several times he forced himself to look away. He quietly replaced the strong liquor once more.
Just as the burning sensation inside him had begun to subside, the person who only moments before had been smiling like a moonlit fairy suddenly lost all expression. She began fumbling frantically at her waist.
“Where’s my Crown Prince’s seal?”
The very next instant, as though realization had struck her all at once, she threw herself into the man’s arms, her face crumpling. Crying openly, she sobbed, “Even Grandfather doesn’t want me anymore… I’m finished… I’ve lost everything… it’s all over…”
Her twin buns rubbed against his chest until they came loose. Ying Wuji’s entire body went rigid. His body reacted in a way he could not suppress. His eyes darkened. His breathing immediately became uneven. Without thinking, he shoved her away.
