After spending the entire day in a daze at the stables, Zhao Shu had finally sorted out her current situation.
When burdens piled high enough, adding one more made little difference. Once one’s thinking changed, everything else followed. Even the banished immortals in strange tales eventually endured their suffering until happier days arrived. However bitter mortal life might be, how much worse could it truly become?
She had thought it through. Right now, there was really only one thing she needed to do. Wait for her eldest uncle, who was touring the feudal states on behalf of the Son of Heaven, to arrive in Qin, then ask him to find a way to seek the antidote in Handan.
If, in the end, there truly was no antidote…
Then she likely would not live to see the Summer Solstice. If so, there was even less reason to spend every day consumed by fear. She ought instead to make the most of whatever time remained and arrange a proper future for Yingying.
Having reached the very depths of hardship, she instead found herself unexpectedly liberated.
Thus, when Zhao Shu entered the courtyard hungry, she had actually been in rather good spirits, Only to be stopped unexpectedly by Cheng Wu.
After hearing what he had to say, she was instantly dragged back into reality. Her heart sank. As she slowly stepped onto the floating bridge, she recalled Ying Wuji’s behavior over the past several days and arrived at a conclusion. Imperial Grandson Ji was not Lady Mi’s biological son after all. His recent absence from court was probably due to political setbacks. That half-sister who had visited him at the stables this morning had likely come only to watch him make a fool of himself.
Remembering the way Ying Wuji had angrily swept his sleeve and walked away that morning, she became even more convinced of her guess.
After all, he was merely the illegitimate son of a Hu concubine without any powerful backing. Suffering defeat in political struggles was only to be expected.
She understood all too well what kind of ambition and brutality lay hidden beneath his elegant, refined appearance.
Perhaps… If she took advantage of his discouragement and comforted him a little, she might also be able to casually probe for the exact date when the Zhou envoy would arrive in Qin.
Thinking this, she followed Cheng Wu’s suggestion and stepped into the small tower.
She never noticed the scented sachet now hanging from her waist.
From the flower hall and corridors on the first floor to the bathing room and qin chamber on the second, only a few bronze lamps had been lit to illuminate the way. The path beneath her feet lay dim and shadowed. The tower stood surrounded by the lake, and looking out through the second-floor windows revealed nothing but silent emptiness in every direction. It was as though the entire building stood alone outside the mortal world, cold and desolate.
As she climbed the stairs, the thoughts she had only just organized suddenly became tangled again. Thinking of her long-standing enmity with that man, she could not help becoming so nervous that her hands and feet turned icy cold.
She was so distracted that she even stumbled near one of the second-floor windows, completely failing to notice the rich fragrance of orchids slowly drifting from the scented sachet at her waist.
When she reached the final wooden step leading to the third floor, she paused to draw a deep breath, silently murmuring a few words to steady herself.
As she lifted the curtain and stepped into the eastern bedchamber, The tension that had gripped her abruptly melted away. In its place arose an unexpected sense of calm, even a faint trace of comfort.
A lamp burned upon the round table in the outer room of the bedchamber, but there was no one there.
“Didn’t I tell you to dismiss those people? There was no need for you to come up.”
The weary voice that suddenly came from the study in the western room startled Zhao Shu. Turning around, she saw that within the darkness beyond, someone appeared to be sitting by the window.
He certainly looked as though he were in a terrible mood.
Just as Zhao Shu was searching for an excuse to retreat, his voice sounded again. “Heh… so it’s the young master. Come here.”
His tone carried a trace of loneliness, tinged with the bleakness of someone torn between grief and joy.
Her back unconsciously stiffened again. She answered softly, then walked around the gauzy paper screen and looked up with a slight frown toward the figure seated by the window.
The broad lattice window, nearly a yard wide, had been propped fully open, revealing a lake whose emerald waters shimmered beneath the moonlight. The windowsill was only two or three handspans wide, yet the man sat precariously upon it, one leg stretched out and the other bent, a coarse porcelain wine bottle cradled loosely in his arms.
No lamps had been lit in the western room. One could barely make out the surroundings by the faint glow spilling in from the adjoining bedchamber, while the moonlight by the window shone much brighter.
“What are you standing there for? Come sit with me.”
Only at those impatient words did Zhao Shu recognize the rich drunkenness in his voice.
Her thoughts raced as she answered quietly again. As she walked over, she sniffed the air in confusion. Strangely, she could hardly smell any wine. Instead, the fragrance of orchids and cassia seemed to have grown even stronger, though she had no idea where it came from.
Still puzzled, her right side accidentally bumped into the bookcase.
“Ah!”
She cried out in pain, and as her sleeve caught on something, it knocked a bronze vessel from the table with a loud clatter.
The man by the window clicked his tongue in annoyance. The next instant, he lit the lamp beside the window. By the time she turned back, he had already resumed his place on the windowsill, though now he had drawn both knees up, leaving a large space beside him.
“Don’t you enjoy listening to tales of spirits and immortals? Come up and tell me a few.”
She enjoyed listening to palace servants tell stories. She had never liked telling them herself.
Her stomach growled. Zhao Shu instinctively glanced at the nearby table. Upon it sat only three small vegetarian dishes and a bowl of sweet bean soup. The bowl she had just knocked over turned out to have been mushroom noodle soup.
Seeing such meager fare, she lowered her brows with a quiet sigh and walked past the table toward the window.
“W-What kind of story do you want to hear?” Standing before the window, she looked down at the icy lake beneath the narrow windowsill and could not help feeling a little afraid.
“Whichever one you like.” Without turning around, Ying Wuji continued gazing out at the cold moon above the lake and mountains. Tilting his head back, he took another swallow of wine before adding in a muffled voice, “Just don’t tell me those stories about banished immortals returning to Heaven or great generals becoming gods because of their achievements. I’ve heard enough of those.”
Zhao Shu froze. She secretly pouted to herself. Her father had adored tales of gods and spirits. But stories like those always ended with someone attaining immortality or enlightenment. If they did not, what other ending could there possibly be?
Surely not complete annihilation of body and soul, with no chance of reincarnation. Or perhaps an immortal lord cast down into the Six Realms to undergo countless cycles of cultivation and suffering?
She racked her brains but could think of nothing. Feeling frustrated and irritated, she was still struggling to decide when another remark came from above her. “I told you to come sit with me. What? Is the Crown Prince chosen by Zhao Wang afraid of heights?”
The ridicule in his voice was utterly undisguised, made even sharper by the wine.
Even drunk, Ying Wuji could still strike directly at her greatest weakness.
Hearing him deliberately emphasize the words Crown Prince, Zhao Shu immediately rose to the challenge. Without another thought, she reached for the window frame.
The sill was quite high. Holding her breath, she braced herself and jumped repeatedly. Only after several attempts did she finally manage to scramble onto it. Her right hip had barely settled onto the edge when, having used too much force, she wobbled precariously.
A hand caught her shoulder. Only then did she manage to sit steadily.
That hand withdrew almost immediately. She hurriedly clutched the window frame on her left, glanced nervously at the three-story drop beneath her and the unfathomably deep lake below, swallowed hard, deliberately avoided looking at the man beside her drinking wine, and began telling an unusual story.
The story itself was simple.
A Rakshasa who had committed countless evil deeds fell in love with the Heavenly Sovereign’s daughter. In order to possess the goddess, he resorted to every imaginable scheme and plunged the Heavenly Court into chaos. In the end, the goddess perished beneath the Heavenly Tribulation, while the Rakshasa attained enlightenment and willingly descended into the Animal Realm.
Her sworn elder brother had casually told her this tale once before. Because its plot was so strange and its ending so bleak, Zhao Shu remembered it vividly enough to recount almost the entire thing.
When she reached the part where the Rakshasa voluntarily destroyed his cultivation and accepted nine thousand lifetimes in the Animal Realm, Zhao Shu could not help wiping at her eyes. She had always been soft-hearted. Ordinarily, because of her status, she had to maintain the bearing of Zhao’s Crown Prince before others. Yet here, before this man, she felt there was no need to force herself to endure.
She had expected him to mock her. Instead, the man beside her let out a heavy sigh.
After remaining silent for a long while, he took another large drink of wine. Beneath the cold moon and star-filled sky, his sharply sculpted features appeared filled with boundless sorrow.
“There’s nothing particularly novel about that. It’s still a happy ending. Boring.”
His words left Zhao Shu speechless for a moment. Then she protested softly, “The Rakshasa never attained immortality. Even if he lived longer than most beings in the Six Realms, he caused the goddess’s death, and he himself fell into the Animal Realm. How can you possibly call that a happy ending?”
Her stomach was still empty. She reached toward the nearby offering table, picked up a rice cake, and bit off a large mouthful. It stuck in her throat.
Just as she turned to look for water, a coarse porcelain bottle was extended toward her. She accepted it without hesitation and tilted her head back to drink.
The wine washed the rice cake down, Only then did she realize how strong it was. She immediately doubled over, coughing violently.
When she had finally caught her breath, she heard him chuckle softly. “He was merely a man consumed by regrets before fulfilling his ambitions. Life and death both unfolded exactly as he wished. Even falling into the Animal Realm was his own choice. How could that not be a happy ending?”
Warmth spread through her stomach as she recovered. Listening to such shamelessly twisted logic, she found herself unable to think of a proper rebuttal. So she simply turned to look at him.
The moment she did, she was utterly stunned.
In the dim lamplight, the man’s jade-like features were lightly flushed with drink. Moisture shimmered within his emerald eyes, while endless sorrow filled the space between his brows.
She had never seen him like this. Not even in the years when he had been at his poorest and most despised.
She had always believed that deep within, this man was forever proud and cold, like a blade of ice.
As though sensing her astonishment, Ying Wuji gave a quiet, derisive laugh and shifted into an even more dangerous position. Turning to face the lakeshore, he let both legs dangle freely over the edge before speaking to her in profile. “Worry about yourself… Tell me two more stories, and I’ll allow you one question.”
Zhao Shu immediately looked away. Now that she was sitting so close, she could clearly smell the wine on him. Yet even drunk, he still saw straight through her intentions.
So the two of them remained there together upon the narrow windowsill, one sitting and one leaning, drinking wine and talking beneath the moon.
The more intoxicated she became, the harder it was for Zhao Shu to suppress the sorrow and fear buried deep within her heart.
Perhaps Ying Wuji truly had been facing setbacks in court. Tonight, he no longer possessed the sharpness and cold arrogance he usually carried. Beneath the vast canopy of stars, drinking and speaking with her, he seemed almost like an old friend from years past.
There were even two moments when Zhao Shu nearly lost control and told him about the cold poison.
“Last time you said my eldest uncle was touring the various states on behalf of the Son of Heaven. He… when will he enter Qin? In three months… can he arrive before then?”
Fear mixed with a strange fluttering sensation in her heart. She did not notice that even her voice had softened into a gentle, almost delicate tone, completely revealing her emotions.
Ying Wuji glanced at her, then suddenly spoke with a hint of anger and provocation. “So what if Ji Qiao arrives? Do you still think you can return to Luoyi or Handan? Truly a foolish fantasy.”
“You!” That was her final hope. His words struck a nerve, and for a moment Zhao Shu forgot where she was. Furious and aggrieved, she tried to stand.
She had only just stepped onto the windowsill and swayed upright when the sight of the dark lake below entered the corner of her eye. Her legs immediately went weak, and she let out a startled cry. In her panic, she completely forgot to turn back and use the window frame to steady herself.
Having lost her balance, half her body swung outward. In the next instant, the alcohol bottle shattered. One figure stepped into empty air, and at the very moment disaster struck, an arm wrapped around her back and pulled her safely back.
The two of them fell together onto the floor inside the window. She was held in the man’s arms as he twisted his body to avoid the impact, leaving her pressed heavily on top of him.
The collision had truly been painful. Her hands rested against his chest, her almond-shaped eyes trembling, as if frozen in place by lingering terror.
After all, both of them had been drinking. Gradually, her gaze became drawn to his face. With a slight frown of confusion, she simply stared at him.
If one ignored those eyes that carried the bloodline of the Hu people, the shape of his brows and features still looked so similar.
She silently told herself they looked alike. And in her eyes, shimmering tears slowly overflowed.
Now that they were farther away from the window, the thick fragrance of orchids and cassia quickly spread throughout the room.
Ying Wuji simply allowed himself to remain pinned beneath her. Lying on his back, he felt the person above him was soft as jade, light and gentle as cotton. He found himself reluctant to push her away.
The orchid fragrance completely overwhelmed the sandalwood scent in the room and the alcohol surrounding them both. His eyes gradually cleared, yet a dark flame surged within them. From the place where her hands pressed against his chest, that flame suddenly gathered into a burning heat.
The instant her tear fell onto the center of his brow, the fire within his heart seemed to explode. It rushed uncontrollably through every inch of his body.
Beneath the moonlight and candle glow, Ying Wuji’s emerald eyes became almost bewitching. As the candlelight flickered, his handsome and extravagant face suddenly broke into a brilliant smile.
There truly was such a thing as beauty that could steal one’s soul.
That single smile left Zhao Shu completely stunned. Before the last trace of her tears had even fallen, the man suddenly flipped them over, reversing their positions and pinning her beneath him. He caught her cheek between his lips.
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