Chapter 98: Entering Winter (3)

The implications behind Fu Rong’s words ran deep, with many layers to unpack—for instance, how did Xiao Ziteng know that Qi Ying had visited Qixia Temple, or that Xiao Zihuan had been there too? But to Xiao Ziyu, only the most superficial layer registered: she understood only that her fourth brother cared about her marriage prospects and wanted to facilitate a match between her and Brother Jingchen. Beyond that, she refused to consider anything else.

At the mere thought of that little fox spirit from the Fang family, Xiao Ziyu felt a pang of bitterness in her heart. In that moment, she almost forgot her longstanding resentment toward Fu Rong and simply muttered sullenly, “What can I do about it? That Fang girl clings stubbornly to Brother Jingchen’s side. Am I supposed to interfere in the affairs of Fengheyuan?”

Fu Rong shot a disdainful glance at her pitiful younger sister-in-law, though the flicker of contempt in her eyes vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She then resumed her composed smile and said lightly, “I heard that the young miss will soon come of age?”

Xiao Ziyu didn’t fully grasp what Fu Rong was getting at, but she responded with a vague acknowledgment. Then, Fu Rong continued, “Back then, she stayed in Fengheyuan because she was still young. Now that she’s coming of age, it’s natural for her to marry—whom will she marry? Will Master Qi take her as his wife? As long as she marries, she’ll naturally distance herself from you two. She won’t have any way to stay close anymore.”

Xiao Ziyu fell silent, pondering deeply over these words.

Later, when the next ball was struck during the polo match, the sixth princess ended up injured.

The injury wasn’t particularly skillfully orchestrated: while everyone was scrambling for the wooden ball, the princess joined in, positioning herself near Qi Ying just as the ball flew into the air. On the other side, Han Feiyu swung his mallet to hit the ball, but his swing came dangerously close to Qi Ying.

Such near misses were common in polo, and Qi Ying, being experienced, could easily dodge it. However, Xiao Ziyu unexpectedly blocked his path, causing Han Feiyu to hastily pull back on his swing. Though he didn’t completely stop in time, the mallet grazed the princess’s arm lightly.

This small incident turned into a major event.

The princess cried out in pain, as if grievously injured, with her brother and sister-in-law chiming in to emphasize her plight.

Initially, Xiao Ziteng hadn’t realized his sister had received Fu Rong’s advice and genuinely believed she was hurt. Naturally concerned, he prepared to ride over to check on her condition. However, he was subtly stopped by Fu Rong. The couple exchanged glances, and when Xiao Ziteng noticed the faint smirk in his wife’s eyes, he finally caught on.

A trace of mischievousness flashed in Xiao Ziteng’s eyes before disappearing. He then adopted a serious expression, frowning and saying, “Xiao Ziyu, you’re truly foolish! Qi Ying is a grown man—why does a little girl like you need to protect him? It seems you’ve lost your mind!”

Whether or not the sixth princess had truly lost her mind, no one could say, but everyone acknowledged that the fourth prince’s matchmaking tactics were masterful. In one sentence, he expressed both sorrow for his sister’s misfortune and frustration at her lack of assertiveness, while also dragging Qi Ying fully into the situation. No matter how clever Qi Ying might be, he was now thoroughly entangled.

Xiao Ziyu clutched her arm, which wasn’t actually hurting much, and pouted. Her tear-filled peach-blossom eyes gazed pitifully at Qi Ying as she asked, “Brother Jingchen, would you take me to rest under the pavilion?”

Before Qi Ying could respond, Han Feiyu stepped forward, intending to take responsibility. After all, he had inadvertently injured the princess, and since this was the Han family’s territory, it made sense for him to handle the situation. However, before he could move, Fu Zhuo discreetly pulled him back. Catching Fu Zhuo’s meaningful glance, Han Feiyu realized this wasn’t about propriety or appropriateness anymore. He decided to remain an observer, refraining from further involvement.

Everyone had conspired together, each contributing their part, leaving Qi Ying with no room to make his own decision.

They heard him fall silent for a moment, as if sighing—or perhaps not—and then respond, “Your Highness, please follow me.”

Everyone was satisfied—except for Qi Yun, who was helpless to intervene.

All was well.

The Han family’s polo field was not only beautifully constructed but also meticulously managed.

Polo was inherently dangerous, especially during intense matches where falls from horses and even disabling injuries were not uncommon. To ensure safety, the Hans kept physicians on standby at all times, and even arranged for female medics to attend to the ladies.

The medics were skilled; within moments, they had carefully bandaged the princess’s supposedly injured arm. Servants brought tea for the princess and the exceptionally handsome Qi Ying, and then withdrew at her command.

Thus, Xiao Ziyu finally had the opportunity to be alone with Qi Ying.

They now sat together beneath the ornate pavilion, neither too close nor too far apart. The field remained lively with dust swirling and drums beating, the game continuing in full swing. Xiao Ziyu stole a glance at him and saw that he was watching the game, not looking at her.

She actually adored Qi Ying’s aloof demeanor. Even when he was silent, she found him captivating. If it weren’t for the fact that it was so rare for her to see him, she wouldn’t have minded sitting quietly beside him, enjoying a different kind of intimacy through shared silence.

However, such indulgence was better saved for after marriage. Time was precious now, and she wasn’t willing to waste a single moment.

Xiao Ziyu glanced at him again, thought for a moment, and said, “Brother Jingchen, do you still want to return to the game? If so, go ahead. Don’t let me hold you back—you don’t gather like this often, and it’s a rare opportunity.”

By feigning retreat to advance, Xiao Ziyu had indeed matured somewhat.

She knew full well that even if she said this, Qi Ying wouldn’t leave her alone here. Sure enough, he turned to look at her and replied calmly, “It’s fine.”

Xiao Ziyu felt a surge of joy and smiled faintly, stealing another glance at him. Casually, she remarked, “Come to think of it, Third Brother should have been invited today too, but unfortunately, he was busy and couldn’t make it.”

Qi Ying nodded slightly and said, “Prince Duan has been hard at work.”

Xiao Ziyu exchanged a few polite remarks before shifting the topic: “Speaking of which, I bumped into Third Brother a few days ago. He told me he’d recently visited Qixia Mountain. He said the red maple leaves were incredibly vivid and beautiful, and that Qixia Temple, nestled in such scenery, must surely be more spiritually potent than Jiming or Dingshan Temples.”

A fleeting flicker of emotion passed through Qi Ying’s half-lowered phoenix eyes, but his expression remained calm. He gave a noncommittal response without elaborating.

Xiao Ziyu observed his countenance closely and pressed on: “Third Brother also mentioned running into you at the temple—what were you doing at a Buddhist temple? I always thought you weren’t religious.”

Qi Ying paused for a moment, then gave a faint smile and replied, “It was merely a whim—I wouldn’t say I believe or disbelieve.”

Xiao Ziyu had intended to use these probing questions to lead him to bring up the young lady from the Fang family. She was certain he understood her intentions, but he remained infuriatingly composed, refusing to utter a single word about her.

Frustrated, Xiao Ziyu thought that if he wouldn’t speak, then she would have to. After a brief silence, she said, “Third Brother mentioned that Miss Fang accompanied him? She’s grown into quite the graceful young woman now.”

After speaking, Xiao Ziyu fixed her gaze intently on Qi Ying, scrutinizing every subtle change in his expression. Yet, all she saw was his calm, unruffled demeanor as he responded indifferently, “Mm, she’s nearly of age.”

His composure left Xiao Ziyu uncertain whether to feel relieved or troubled. After a pause, she tried to sound casual as she said, “Time truly flies. When I first met her, she was just a little girl. Now, in the blink of an eye, she’s of marriageable age.”

She paused, continuing to watch Qi Ying closely, and asked, “Brother Jingchen, have you already considered potential suitors for her? As the daughter of Lord Fang, she cannot be neglected. She must marry into a good family.”

For a moment, Qi Ying was at a loss for words.

He had never thought about Shen Xiling marrying. In fact, the idea that she would one day wed had never crossed his mind.

That little girl he had rescued from the snow-covered city gates years ago, whom he had personally raised and taught, who was so quiet yet burdened with worries, who often looked at him with unspoken longing—that little girl who always tugged at his heartstrings and made him break his own rules…

…would one day marry?

He was genuinely stunned.

But Qi Ying was not one to reveal his inner turmoil easily. Even if he was momentarily taken aback, he wouldn’t let others notice. After a brief silence, he calmly replied, “Yes, she should marry into a good family.”

Seeing his expression remain undisturbed, as if he didn’t care about Miss Fang’s marriage, Xiao Ziyu felt somewhat reassured and slightly cheered. She added, “If you can’t find a suitable match, you could entrust this matter to me. I’ll look into it, and we’ll have news soon.”

Qi Ying’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly as he said, “Marriage shouldn’t be rushed—it’s important that she likes the person she marries.”

Xiao Ziyu smiled and countered, “What you say makes sense, but it’s easy to dismiss practical concerns. Marriage is unpredictable—how many people can expect complete happiness? Marrying well and respectably is already the best outcome. Not rush? Then when should we wait? Should we emulate you and me, dragged along until now?”

As soon as she finished this lengthy speech, Xiao Ziyu immediately regretted it, realizing she had spoken unwisely.

The first half of her statement was reasonable enough, but the second half, which tied their situation to her own grievances, betrayed her impatience and undermined her position.

But she couldn’t dwell on it too much. Whenever Fang Yun was mentioned, she became agitated, her nerves fraying. She couldn’t help but wish to hastily marry the girl off to anyone just to get her out of Fengheyuan. At that moment, she looked at Qi Ying with a mix of panic and委屈 (grievance), and said, “Brother Jingchen, she’s been by your side for three years, and I’ve endured it for three years. You know my temperament—I’m not someone who tolerates injustice easily. But because she’s the daughter of your benefactor, I’ve swallowed my pride. Since the flower-viewing gathering three years ago, have I ever brought this up again? I’m not incapable of enduring, but now that she’s of age, it’s unreasonable for her to remain by your side…both emotionally and logically.”

She paused, her gaze growing even more intense as she lowered her voice and asked, “Or…do you intend to marry her?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she saw Qi Ying turn his face to glance at her.

A single glance—detached, yet immeasurably profound.

She assumed he was thinking about Fang Yun, unaware that his thoughts ran deeper and farther.

By now, both the Han and Fu families had taken sides, leaving only the Qi family’s stance ambiguous. Though Xiao Ziteng appeared carefree and unconventional, those in positions of power could not afford to be indifferent or detached. Immersed in the struggle for succession, he couldn’t possibly disregard the Qi family’s loyalties.

Xiao Ziyu knew about the events at Qixia Temple, and naturally, Xiao Ziteng was aware too. Yet, he hadn’t asked a single question today about what transpired between Qi Ying and Xiao Zihuan.

Was he truly indifferent? Impossible.

On the contrary—he cared too much. So much so that he had to pretend otherwise.

Qi Ying had been Xiao Ziteng’s study companion since childhood, and their relationship had always been close. Yet, Xiao Ziteng hadn’t directly inquired about what Qi Ying discussed with Xiao Zihuan at Qixia Mountain. This silence indicated that doubts and reservations about Qi Ying—and the Qi family—had already begun to take root in his mind.

Doubts were insidious. Once planted, they easily took hold, becoming increasingly difficult to uproot.

And what was the simplest and most effective way to dispel such suspicions?

Marriage ties.

With marital connections, two families became one. Even if trust remained fragile, at least in the eyes of outsiders, they would appear united. No one cared about the truth beneath the surface—as long as appearances were maintained, it was enough to sway many outcomes.

Both the Han and Fu families were now connected to the fourth prince through marriage, but the Qi family remained unaligned. Moreover, the current generation of the Qi family’s main branch had no daughters. Qi Yun, the eldest son, was already married, leaving only Qi Ying—an unmarried heir. To reassure the fourth prince, the logical choice was for Qi Ying to marry Xiao Ziyu.

Xiao Ziteng was a highly intelligent man, and in the imperial family, there were no fools. They all possessed an innate sensitivity to politics and understood these intricate dynamics better than anyone. Today, Xiao Ziyu’s words to him were not solely her own—they carried the tacit approval, and perhaps even implicit instruction, of her elder brother.

He couldn’t reject her. To the princess, their relationship was merely a matter of romantic affection. But in her brother’s eyes, it was a political alliance. If Qi Ying refused Xiao Ziyu, seeds of doubt would take deeper root in the fourth prince’s heart. And once those doubts grew strong enough, they would become enemies.

Sometimes, the shift could happen in an instant.

His father took pride in their family’s legacy, believing that the Qi family no longer needed the merit of supporting a new emperor. Perhaps that was true—but what would happen once the new ruler ascended the throne? Two of the three great families were now linked to the emperor through marriage, leaving only the Qi family excluded. How would they navigate such a landscape?

Their family appeared deeply rooted and unshakable, but in reality, missing a single pivotal moment could overturn everything. The difference between stability and ruin lay in the smallest margins.

The vastness of Qi Ying’s thoughts was inaccessible to others. All Xiao Ziyu could see was the slight downward cast of his magnificent phoenix eyes and his perpetually unreadable expression.

She heard him say, with perfect detachment, “There is no personal affection between Miss Fang and me. She has indeed reached the age for marriage. If someone she favors seeks her hand, I will not stand in the way. Your Highness can rest assured.”

These words flowed effortlessly from him, yet inside, a thin thread snapped suddenly. The faint tremor that followed brought him an indescribable, obscure pain.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Ziyu felt an immediate wave of relief. Her enchanting peach-blossom eyes brightened instantly as she suppressed her joy and said, “Oh, that’s wonderful—absolutely wonderful! As for the matter of choosing a suitor…shall I assist in finding someone suitable?”

While listening to her words, Qi Ying silently buried the broken thread deep within himself, ensuring no one could detect his pain or emotional turmoil.

He gave Xiao Ziyu a calm, measured glance, then averted his gaze and said indifferently, “Very well, I leave it to you, Princess.”

At this point, Xiao Ziyu could no longer contain her delight. She happily agreed, feeling that her injury today was entirely worth it—even if she had to endure another blow, she would gladly accept it. Overwhelmed with joy and sweetness, she began chatting animatedly, chattering incessantly by his side.

Meanwhile, Qi Ying drifted slightly into his own thoughts amidst her words, once again recalling Shen Xiling.

On that moonlit night, fragrant with the scent of crabs, they had been so close.

So very close.

The deserted Wang Garden had been their dreamlike haven, where they lingered in a state of intoxication, reluctant to leave. Even he had believed they could draw closer still.

He had even thought they could remain together like that for a lifetime.

But now, he suddenly understood.

They were impossibly far apart.

There never truly was a Wang Garden in this world.

Author’s Note:

“Though I cannot reach it, my heart yearns for it.”

“My heart yearns for it, yet I ultimately cannot reach it.”