#195: Clouds and Fog (3)

On one side, the situation was fraught with peril and hidden dangers, while on the other, the remote mountains of Shangjing remained tranquil and peaceful.

After May, Qi Ying suffered several more bouts of withdrawal symptoms. Each episode was perilous, yet he endured them all. He was a man of his word—having made a promise to Shen Xiling, he refrained from using the Five-Stone Powder and even had Qingzhu burn the remaining supply to ashes.

Each time Shen Xiling watched him struggle against the addiction, her heart ached. Yet, she didn’t want to cry in front of him, so she always waited until he fell asleep before slipping out to compose herself.

She thought he was unaware, but one day, after assuming he was asleep and rising to leave, he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms.

Startled, she looked up at him, asking, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

He was indeed exhausted, too weary to even open his eyes. He simply smoothed her hair, his voice hoarse as he said, “I sleep, only to let you go out and cry?”

Shen Xiling was speechless.

So… he had known all along.

Yes, he had always been attentive toward her. He even knew when her monthly cycle began, sometimes remembering it better than she did. He took meticulous care of her.

He must have noticed her sneaking out to cry long ago, which was why today he had forced himself to stay awake, sparing energy to comfort her.

This man…

Shen Xiling didn’t know what to say.

His breath was warm, his arms around her gentle. His beautiful phoenix eyes opened, revealing both fatigue and tenderness.

“Don’t go out,” he softly patted her back. “If you must cry, do it here.”

Shen Xiling was both amused and moved by his words. She gently pushed him, saying, “Nonsense… I wasn’t crying.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Alright, you weren’t crying—sleep now.”

Shen Xiling gazed at him for a moment, then decided to heed his advice. She went out briefly to tidy up, returning soon after to snuggle beside him under the covers.

A restful night.

Aside from Qi Ying’s occasional withdrawal episodes, everything else was pleasant.

By mid-May, the summer atmosphere in the north grew stronger. The mountains were alive with cicadas chirping and birds flitting about. The sun burned red—if this were Jiangzuo, it would surely be scorching. In previous years, by this time, ice blocks would be placed in the rooms of Huaijin and Woyu Courtyards. However, the mountain air in Shangjing was much cooler, with gentle breezes bringing a soothing chill—truly the most comfortable season.

Shen Xiling knew Qi Ying particularly enjoyed summer because he loved lotuses, and this was their prime blooming season. Unfortunately, they were now confined to this dilapidated mountain residence, unable to admire the serene beauty of lotus leaves swaying in the breeze over calm waters.

Beyond that, Shen Xiling could sense subtle changes in Qi Ying.

He was always inscrutable, his emotions concealed, making it difficult to discern his thoughts. Yet, having spent so much time with him and possessing an innate understanding of him since childhood, she vaguely detected differences in his recent demeanor. Though he still flew kites with her, engaged in idle chatter, and fed her loquats as usual, he occasionally became lost in thought. Shen Xiling recognized this as his contemplative state.

She had a faint premonition that something he had long awaited was about to occur.

And her intuition was correct.

On a summer night following rain, mist enveloped the mountains. At the densest hour of fog, two distinguished visitors arrived, both familiar to Shen Xiling.

One was Gu Juhán.

The other… was the Crown Prince of Wei.

Such high-profile guests visiting under cover of night naturally invited speculation. Shen Xiling felt a pang of alertness, but Qi Ying remained calm.

It seemed he had anticipated their arrival.

Noticing Shen Xiling’s tension, Qi Ying reassured her with a smile, saying, “It’s fine. I’ll speak privately with His Highness—it won’t be a problem.”

Shen Xiling was perceptive. Seeing Qi Ying’s demeanor, she deduced he had long been in contact with the Crown Prince. Perhaps tonight’s visit was even arranged at his behest.

Feeling reassured, she nodded at him, then glanced at Gu Juhán standing behind the Crown Prince. He was looking at her, noticeably thinner than a month ago. His face was obscured by the mist, lending him a somewhat desolate appearance.

Shen Xiling pursed her lips, then looked up at Qi Ying. “Then you talk with His Highness inside. I’ll chat with General Gu for a bit.”

Upon hearing this, Qi Ying also glanced at Gu Juhán. Through the night mist, they exchanged slight nods.

He turned back to Shen Xiling, his voice soft. “Go ahead.”

After a pause, Shen Xiling heard him add,

“A kind farewell.”

The night mist swirled, the starry sky glittering above.

Since it had just rained, the mountain paths were muddy, and some stones were slick with moss, making them slippery. As Shen Xiling and Gu Juhán walked together, he instinctively kept an eye on her movements, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

This silent attention wasn’t lost on Shen Xiling. She suddenly realized that Gu Juhán had always watched her this way. Back then, she had dismissed it as mere concern between friends, never connecting it to anything deeper. Reflecting on it now… she felt foolish and naive.

But it wasn’t entirely her fault. After all, those involved are often blind. While living under the same roof with Gu Juhán, she had been oblivious to everything. Only after their separation for some time had the old illusions slowly dissipated, allowing her to finally uncover some belated truths.

Given this context, their current solitude was unavoidably awkward. Even the beautiful moonlight and mist of the mountains couldn’t ease the tension. Gu Juhán’s persistent and silent attention made her feel uneasy, as if pricked by thorns.

After a long silence, Shen Xiling finally managed to utter a sentence. Her voice was low, tinged with genuine remorse. “I’m… sorry.”

She spoke softly, her apology sincere. Gu Juhán heard it but didn’t respond immediately. After a while, he asked, “Why are you apologizing to me?”

Shen Xiling lowered her head slightly and replied, “At that time… I was frantic and lost my mind, which is why I used that ledger to threaten you. Looking back now, it was truly foolish of me. You’ve been so kind to me, yet I repaid your kindness with betrayal.”

She pursed her lips, then added after a moment’s thought, “But in truth, I never really intended to expose what happened with Jusheng and Juyuan. At the time, I just…”

She trailed off, but Gu Juhán already understood what she meant.

She was trying to explain that she hadn’t truly meant to betray the Gu family—she had only used them as leverage in her negotiations with him.

Gu Juhán believed her explanation. In fact, he had always trusted her, perhaps because of their first encounter—when she had risked everything to save a beggar she didn’t even know. From that moment on, he had understood her character: pure-hearted and stubborn.

Yet, even though he believed her, this explanation couldn’t erase the pain in his heart. She would do anything for Qi Jingchen, even standing against him without hesitation just to see him. As long as this remained true, the wounds in his heart could not heal.

And at this point, arguing about it all felt futile. Shen Xiling probably realized this too, so she didn’t dwell on the topic. After a brief silence, she said, “Besides… I also owe you thanks.”

Gu Juhán walked beside her, subtly brushing away a tree branch that might have grazed her hair when she wasn’t looking. He asked, “Thanks? For what?”

Shen Xiling didn’t notice his small gesture. Her expression seemed lost in memories.

Her tone softened as she said, “For many things… All these years, General, you’ve taken such good care of me. I’ve always been grateful.”

At this, she looked up at him. Even through the misty night, her beautiful face was still clearly visible, and perhaps because of the fog, she appeared even more enchanting, like the stunning female spirits from folktales.

“And for his sake,” she added. “I was mistaken before—I thought you were enemies rather than allies. But now I see that you’ve helped him greatly. That’s a life-saving favor.”

She was thanking him on behalf of Qi Ying.

Shen Xiling had always been sensitive, even as a child. Now that she had grown up, her childhood timidity had faded, leaving behind only sharp perceptiveness.

Even though Qi Ying had never explicitly told her, she could sense that Gu Juhán was on his side in this matter. He must have secretly aided them in many ways—not only helping her meet Qi Ying and stay in this remote mountain but also assisting Qi Ying with other matters. For instance, how did the Crown Prince come to be connected with Qi Ying today? There was no doubt that Gu Juhán had played a mediating role.

Shen Xiling cared little about what these men were planning or what kind of exchanges of interest lay between them. She only needed to know that Gu Juhán had been there to help Qi Ying in his time of need—that alone was enough to make her deeply grateful.

And the sincerity of Shen Xiling’s gratitude only weighed heavier on Gu Juhán’s heart.

Since the day she handed him the forged letter of divorce, they had been apart for over a month. Every day during this time had been difficult for him—not only because of political affairs but also because of her.

Yet, she seemed to be doing well. Even amidst the simplicity of mountain life, she appeared happy and content. Her complexion was far better than when she was at the Duke’s residence, and she radiated tranquility and joy.

…Does being by his side make you so happy? Even amidst unknown dangers, you don’t seem to care?

I could offer you more stability… Would you still refuse to turn back?

These questions didn’t need to be voiced—they were futile even to think about. She looked so blissful with him. Even their simple gazes toward each other exuded an intimacy that no one else could penetrate.

So be it.

Gu Juhán cleared his throat, maintaining decorum as he said, “If it’s about his matters, you don’t need to thank me. Between nations, it’s always about interests, not sentiment. If he has gained the Crown Prince’s trust, it’s due to his own abilities, not mine.”

Shen Xiling knew this was an excuse. Qi Ying was a foreign minister; without Gu Juhán’s mediation, how could he have connected with the Crown Prince of Wei? Gu Juhán must have exerted great effort. But Shen Xiling noticed that he seemed reluctant to accept her gratitude at this moment, so she simply agreed with him without pressing further.

They continued walking through the mountains, enveloped by the night mist. The ethereal atmosphere made them seem distant, even though they walked side by side. Gu Juhán knew that once Qi Ying finished speaking with the Crown Prince tonight, their departure from Shangjing would be imminent.

She was leaving.

Perhaps this was the last time he would be this close to her.

People often feel sorrow upon realizing something is the “last time.” Gu Juhán was no exception. Yet, unlike others, he couldn’t express his feelings. The sadness belonged to him alone—if it were discovered, the situation would become awkward.

He carefully restrained his emotions and said to Shen Xiling, “Congratulations. Your wish has finally come true.”

Shen Xiling was startled by his words, unsure how to respond. Before she could react, he continued, “From now on, when you return to his side, I believe everything will be as you desire. No more disappointments… I wish you both a long and happy life together, growing old side by side, with many descendants.”

His tone was calm and sincere, but Shen Xiling felt a pang of bittersweetness and guilt.

She had betrayed his deep affection and even openly hurt him at times, yet he had always treated her kindly.

Shen Xiling wanted to make amends, but love debts are hard to repay. Before meeting him, she had already met Qi Ying, fallen wholeheartedly in love with him, and shared countless hardships and joys with him. She simply couldn’t love another person anymore. All her joys, sorrows, fears, and hopes had been spent on him—even her very life bore his mark.

She could only betray Gu Juhán.

She felt overwhelming guilt, twisting her fingers nervously like she did as a child, at a loss for words. But Gu Juhán didn’t need her response.

Just as love doesn’t require a reply, he could still love her quietly for a long time.

So be it.

This was good enough.

She fulfilled her lifelong wish, and he would simply watch her find happiness from afar. She had been his unexpected joy, and now, he was merely returning her to where she belonged.

There was nothing to grieve over.

They estimated the time and decided it was time to return, so they turned back. Gu Juhán continued to protect her as he had on the way here. When he noticed mud stains on her embroidered shoes, he bent down to wipe them off.

Shen Xiling felt flustered and wanted to avoid this, but doing so would have been too awkward. Reluctantly, she allowed him to clean her shoes with his sleeve, which inevitably got dirty in the process.

Her heart grew heavier.

At this moment, Gu Juhán stood up straight, looming close to her. His tall stature naturally felt imposing, almost intimidating, but his voice remained gentle, carrying the familiar warmth and elegance she had always known.

“This is probably the last time I’ll take care of you,” his voice tinged with faint nostalgia and tenderness. “From now on… take care.”

As a military officer, he rarely spoke eloquently. Even during the past five years when he went to battle, he rarely said much upon leaving home, let alone formally bid her farewell.

But now, he was saying goodbye to her. Perhaps he knew that once she and Qi Ying left together, they would never return.

Shen Xiling also felt… it would be difficult for them to meet again.

For a moment, she felt choked up, her emotions too tangled to unravel. Though she harbored no romantic feelings for Gu Juhán, they had indeed accompanied each other through five arduous years—a period that had been challenging for both of them.

She had come to regard him as her closest friend, almost like a brother or family.

By now, Gu Juhán had walked a few steps ahead. Though not far from her, the mist made it seem as if he were already standing at the edge of the horizon, appearing distant and ethereal.

The sense of parting suddenly became vivid, filling her heart with sorrow. Unable to hold back, she called out to his retreating figure.

“Wenruo.”

Only this name escaped her lips. Beyond that, she didn’t know what else to say. And Gu Juhán, seemingly aware of her difficulty, simply stopped walking without turning around.

Even now, at this final moment, he was still taking care of her.