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Two months later, late spring of Dingqian Year 4, Leshui.
“All along this upstream journey, there’s no rice to be seen on either bank, only barren land. The original farmers have abandoned the banks and taken to boating for business.” From under a straw hat, a pair of deer-like eyes peeked out. The young boy looked up at the person beside him and whispered, “Yong Kingdom is probably doomed, Sir.”
“Speak less when outside.” The young man, not yet in his twenties, withdrew his gaze. The light blue scarf on his head fluttered in the wind, occasionally revealing the blood-red mole on his earlobe, making it appear even more vivid.
Hearing this, the boy nodded solemnly.
Sir had said that in troubled times, one must speak cautiously. Along this journey, they had recorded too many truths, truths that could only be written on paper but not revealed to the world. Only a hundred years later would the people of Divine Kun face this past, yet it would still be difficult to change the fate of repeating history.
But if that was the case, why did Sir still write history?
At the time, he had only half-understood, and so he asked.
He would never forget the scene that followed. His usually stern Sir’s face softened, and the radiant glow that instantly bloomed entered his eyes. Such a vivid color, clearly recalling someone, made his heart ache with a sour feeling.
“Lingzhou has arrived!”
A deafening shout jolted the boy awake. He tightened the short sword at his waist, guarding his Sir as they walked towards the ship’s deck.
“Slow down, slow down.”
“Who stepped on my shoe?”
“Mom? Mom!”
All kinds of voices filled the crowd. The crowded deck was thick with the smell of sweat, hot and suffocating the surrounding air.
“Look, look, there’s a foreign woman up ahead.”
Foreign woman?
The boy, while shielding his Sir from the crowd behind him, looked around curiously.
About ten steps ahead and to the right, there was a woman’s figure. A landscape-patterned long dress, a smoky blue veiled hat, and a slow, flowing walk. If not for a few strands of loose hair, perhaps no one would have recognized her as foreign.
Such sun-like hair.
He was sighing when he was suddenly pushed hard by the person behind him.
“Sir?” He was stunned for a moment, then ran after him. “Sir!”
What on earth happened to Sir?
Following his hurrying master into the teahouse, the boy immediately spotted the foreign woman sitting by the window.
Ever since seeing this woman, Sir had changed.
“Little miss, would you like to eat or just stop for a rest?”
The waiter asked loudly, but he wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. The men at the next table, dressed in short jackets, smacked their lips over their wine cups, their fierce gazes fixed on the foreign woman, completely unlike his Sir’s current expression.
The veiled hat slowly turned. The boy could almost imagine the woman beneath the smoky blue veil looking directly at their table, and was his Sir nervous?
“Pack ten steamed buns.”
A voice like striking jade, without a hint of a foreign accent. Was she really foreign?
The boy lowered his gaze, wondering, and saw a pair of trembling hands beneath the table.
“Sir?” He couldn’t help but worry. “Is Sir unwell?” Even his lips were trembling.
The woman took the packed steamed buns and walked lightly past them. Almost immediately, the men from the next table followed.
“There’s a clinic down the street. Xiao Cao, help Sir go see it,” he muttered like an old mother, then looked up again...
“Sir! Sir!”
It’s over, it’s over, his Sir must be enchanted! To chase that foreign woman, they first left the main road and then entered these deep mountains. Darkness was about to fall, and Yong Kingdom wasn’t as safe as Qing Kingdom’s Mianzhou; there were many mountain people who had turned bandits.
“Sir! Sir!” He never knew his frail Sir could walk so fast and so far.
Although his Sir’s appearance was ordinary, the melancholic air in his eyes, combined with his refined scholarly demeanor, made him unique. And he, the boy, existed to protect that uniqueness.
The burly men from the teahouse earlier were clearly not good people. Even if he and Sir caught up with that foreign woman, they wouldn’t be able to help, only throw away two lives in vain.
Thinking this, he reached out and grabbed the robe in front of him: “Sir, don’t chase her anymore.”
It wasn’t that he was selfish, just that he was powerless.
“We can’t catch her anyway, Sir. Let’s go back to the main road.”
Just as he was speaking, the person in front of him suddenly stopped. The boy was surprised by how easily he was persuaded. He stepped forward, about to ask a question, but was stunned speechless by the sight before his eyes.
The setting sun, like blood, covered the mountain top, pouring down like water and spring onto the pure white wild chrysanthemums. In the knee-high spring grass, several burly men lay on their backs, quietly looking at the sky, their faces incredibly peaceful.
The wind moved beneath the setting sun, and the vegetation swayed gently like tassels, swaying, swaying, all the way to the end of the wild chrysanthemums.
“Foreign woman!” he blurted out.
Her landscape-colored skirt was unstained by dust. She stood against the wind, clearly having waited for a long time.
Who was she waiting for? Could it be Sir?
This thought instantly startled the boy awake, but before he could draw his short sword, the foreign woman walked into the distance.
“What kind of sister is that!” An excited male voice echoed across the mountains and wilderness.
“Sir...” The boy was speechless.
“What kind of sister runs away upon seeing her younger brother!” Sir walked forward step by step, his alluringly beautiful eyes flashing with anger. “What kind of sister, who clearly promised to reunite, pretends not to see me when we meet!”
The flowing clouds, passed over one peak after another, finally settled in the wind.
Vines brushed against her dress. She took off her veiled hat, revealing a long-unseen smile:
“Long time no see, Mi’er, you’ve learned to be angry.”
“My Lady...”
The sound of spring wind in his ears, how many years have passed with a flick of the finger.
The night pressed heavily on the mountains and wilderness. The flickering stars seemed close enough to touch.
On one side was Sir, on the other was Sir’s sister. Even an honest official cannot resolve family disputes. Be careful, be careful with your words.
Touching his ear, Xiao Cao very sensibly squatted down and began playing with the campfire.
“Mi’er.”
His bewitchingly beautiful eyes didn’t even glance, still fixedly staring at the flames.
“You should understand.” Yuexia took out the steamed buns bought earlier from her bundle and handed them over. “If I truly intended to hide, you would never have found me.”
Plump, white steamed buns!
After a hasty bow, Xiao Cao wolfed them down.
They were so busy chasing her that they didn’t even prepare provisions. If Sir’s sister hadn’t bought a few extra, they would probably be starving now.
As he ate, he slowly stopped, staring unblinkingly at Yuexia.
At the teahouse, he had been curious: why would one person buy ten steamed buns? Was she a big eater? It turned out she was preparing provisions for three people.
He thought to himself silently, then unexpectedly met her faint, gentle smile.
“What’s your name?”
The person asked this, and he stood there stunned, with only one phrase in his mind: Bright moon, clear autumn water, yet none compare to your single smile.
“His name is Xiao Cao,” Zhang Mi swallowed his steamed bun and interjected, “He’s a page boy I took in when I was studying at Nanshan Academy.”
“Oh.” Yuexia nodded slightly, her gaze first falling on the short sword at the boy’s waist, then looking into Zhang Mi’s eyes. This gaze, knowing and comforting, made Zhang Mi even more uncomfortable.
“My Lady, where have you been these past few years? I’ve had such a hard time finding you.” His tone was a bit hurried, as if he was annoyed at someone.
“I just got lost.” A hint of sadness colored her brows; in the firelight, she seemed somewhat hazy.
Faced with her evasion, Zhang Mi chose not to ask further.
“Your hair has faded, My Lady.”
“Perhaps this is the price of reunion.”
Indeed, My Lady’s past four years were far more difficult than he had imagined. Thinking of this, Zhang Mi softened his tone: “Are you going to find him, My Lady?”
“Mm.” That single sound was so moving that the night wind couldn’t help but sigh softly.
“He’s in Qianzhou.”
“Qianzhou?” She frowned slightly.
“All of this began in the second year after My Lady left...”
The years not yet far gone, accompanied by the night wind, brushed over these mountains, flowed through those waters, finally transforming into a speck of light in the campfire.
“Though Divine Kun now has four kingdoms and one province, it effectively belongs to two masters: Mian and Qing.” Looking up at the starry river, Zhang Mi sighed softly. “On the eighth day of the eighth lunar month, there is peace throughout the land.”
Her slowly moving left hand trembled slightly. Yuexia raised her eyes, within them flowed the silvery moonlight. At this moment, the wilderness was exceptionally quiet, so quiet that one could hear the sound of the last flower of late spring falling.
“It’s said...” Xiao Cao, who had the worst self-control, instinctively broke the terrifying silence. “It’s said that the eighth day of the eighth month is the birthday of the Rear Star.”
Rear Star?
Receiving Yuexia’s surprised gaze, Xiao Cao licked his lips and continued: “She’s called the Rear Star because, in the future, regardless of whether the Marquis of Mianzhou ascends the throne or the Qing King reigns, she will be the empress.”
How could this be?
Yuexia looked at Zhang Mi, her gaze silently asking.
“Because...” Xiao Cao excitedly widened his eyes, “The Marquis of Mianzhou announced on the very day he returned to Shuiyue Capital that Han Shi Yuexia is his, Ye Jinglan’s, only wife in this life.”
Yuexia suddenly stood up, her light-colored hair obscuring her expression at this moment.
“It’s said that when she was very young, a celestial diviner performed the Empress’s礼 (ritual) to her. The reason why Qian Shi, the treacherous official of former You, killed her father-commander was out of fear of her soaring noble aura.”
“Xiao Cao.”
The boy was speaking enthusiastically, completely unaware of the unusual tone in his Sir’s voice.
“And also, General Han Yuexiao, concealed his identity and raised her in seclusion precisely because he feared that villains would contend for the Rear Star, disrupting the grand scheme of Divine Kun. Her familiar household servants all say she is a woman who never gets her hands dirty, extremely delicate and wealthy.”
“Xiao Cao—”
“As for her and the Marquis of Mianzhou, and the Qing King, there are even more rumors in the streets.” Once his chatterbox was open, it was hard to close. Xiao Cao was just a boy, after all. “The Marquis of Mianzhou and the Qing King were originally both enamored with the late Left Chancellor Feng Yunqing of the Qing Kingdom. The reason the Rear Star earned both of their affections was simply because she resembled Chancellor Feng. Even more legendary is when she passed away...”
“Enough!” This explosive shout, accompanied by sparks flying, scattered into the cool night.
“Sir...”
“Xiao Cao.” Zhang Mi looked at him coldly. “You’ve disappointed me greatly.”
“Sir...” The boy’s lips trembled, stunned by the sudden accusation.
His thin body tilted slightly. Zhang Mi averted his gaze: “I don’t want to see you.”
As soon as his words fell, the sound of hurried footsteps rapidly faded into the distance. Zhang Mi felt a pang of bitterness in his heart, but he didn’t know for whom this feeling was.
“That child doesn’t know who I am, and I’ve never taken rumors to heart. Just now, I was only thinking of one person, a person I’ve searched for through several lives. “A soft female voice came from behind him. “And now, I’m happy for you, Mi’er. You’ve also found such a person.”
“My Lady?” He turned around, meeting her keen, moon-like eyes.
“All night I was thinking, who is this divine being who made Mi’er learn joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, who taught him to reprimand loudly? Is it the great master of Nanshan Academy, or merely a fleeting passerby in your life? And just now, I found the answer.”
Zhang Mi awkwardly avoided her gaze.
“In the beginning, I thought Xiao Cao was just another you, and that you took him in because you didn’t want him to repeat Yanqiu’s fate. But I was wrong; the one truly saved was you, ah.”
Her alluringly beautiful eyes suddenly widened.
“Such a fortunate life may only happen once. Mi’er, you must cherish it.” Reaching out, she patted her younger brother, who was now much taller than her. Yuexia then turned and walked towards the forest where the boy had disappeared.
But... but...
Zhang Mi’s fingers trembled violently, even more so than before.
A man and a man was absolutely a mistake, especially with this body that was once so defiled.
Despair flashed in his eyes, a faint, mocking smile spreading beneath his mask.
Rather than this, he would prefer that luck had never come.
In the distance, the lonely mountains stood like a silhouette.
________________________________________
“Come!”
The boy wiped the dust from his cheeks, his round eyes wide, and charged towards the woman gracefully eating a饼 (biscuit/cake). His small fist first wobbled, then struck down with fierce force.
It hit, it must have hit!
Joy unconsciously crept onto his brows. He was considering whether to lessen the force of his hand when the woman, just an inch away, suddenly vanished. Almost simultaneously, a faint, clear fragrance drifted from behind him.
“Hesitation is fatal.”
When he came to his senses, his body had once again fallen to the ground.
Damn it, he’d been learning martial arts from My Lady for ten days and still couldn’t even touch the hem of her clothes. How could he protect Sir in the future, being like this?
Propping himself up, the boy jumped to his feet from the ground: “Again!”
The stubborn little figure charged straight ahead, not seeing the hand behind him eager to catch him.
Xiao Cao.
His slightly parted red lips made no sound. Zhang Mi watched the child who constantly pushed forward, a subtle ache in his heart.
Ever since My Lady brought Xiao Cao back that night, he hadn’t spoken to Xiao Cao. Xiao Cao always walked on eggshells, thinking that those rumors had angered him, but in truth, what angered him was only himself.
“Again!”
The clear voice was tinged with exhaustion, but the boy repeated his actions.
Getting up, falling, getting up again...
Was it worth it? Was it worth it for someone like him? If Xiao Cao knew his inglorious past, would he still think it was worth it?
“Huff... huff... Again!”
“Enough.” He murmured softly, his fists clenched tight within his sleeves.
“A-again!”
“Enough!”
“Sir?” The boy turned around, dumbfounded, staring.
“Hm, yes, that’s enough.” The only normal person among the three curved her eyebrows in satisfaction, revealing a faint smile. “Let’s go, it’s time to hit the road.”
________________________________________
Late spring, the third month, willows like snow, light rain and green smoke, once again Jiangnan.
This season, which should have been melancholic, was instead a brilliant blossoming of warmth in Xiao Cao’s heart.
“My Lady, did you hear? Sir spoke to me!” His face beaming with the joy of spring, he gazed unblinkingly at the man ten steps away.
“Yes, Mi’er is feeling sorry for you, you know.”
“Then why does Sir still avoid me?”
Her eyes fixed on him, Yuexia stroked the boy’s black hair and said, “He’s not avoiding you, he’s avoiding himself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You just need to remember, no matter how much he tries to push you away, don’t take it to heart. Just keep following him.”
The boy nodded heavily: “Mm! Xiao Cao will never leave Sir in this life.”
“And also,” Yuexia leaned down, her flower-like lips emitting a soft whisper, “The moment Mi’er shows you his true face, that’s when you tell him the secret in your heart.”
“My Lady!” The boy gasped in alarm, trembling as he lowered his voice, “Sir will abandon me, just like Xiaorong, who was saved just like me...”
A slender finger lightly touched the boy’s lips. Yuexia hid a smile, her eyes sparkling like a spring fountain: “Trust me, this secret will be your and his good fortune.”
________________________________________
When the distant mountains grew hazy, when the green mist thickened, the end drew near.
“That’s Qianzhou ahead.” The blood-soaked land beneath their feet made one sigh with regret. Looking at the woman standing under the tree, gazing into the distance against the wind, Zhang Mi hesitated for a long while before finally speaking, “My Lady.”
“Mm.”
“My Lady, have you ever considered that just as this nurturing farmland has become a man-eating battlefield, people can change too?”
The person being addressed showed no reaction, only her light-colored hair fluttering in the wind.
“Power intoxicates the heart. Holding half the nation in his grasp, can that person abandon everything and leave with My Lady? Perhaps, he is no longer the man he once was.”
As his words fell, the person under the tree smiled softly. That smile was like spring water under the moon, like a clear breeze in the night. It seemed that such an eternal and profound longing could not be revealed to outsiders.
This smile made Zhang Mi feel somewhat shallow.
“Let’s part ways here.”
She spoke with a light, calm tone, but his heart was in turmoil as he listened.
“My Lady!”
“Mi’er, it’s been four years. You should know that your future is not with me.” Yuexia turned around, facing him. “Four years ago, you couldn’t see your future, so I showed you the way. Now that you’ve walked this path, do you feel forced?”
His beautiful eyes trembled, and he understood instantly.
“Because this is the path you’ve chosen.”
Yes, he had endured the journey, living off the land, gladly, because it was his own choice from the start. He had chosen a path that belonged to him.
“Mi’er, you are no longer the person you used to be; you no longer need to rely on others to live. That’s why this time you didn’t say you’d stick with me, isn’t it?”
He lowered his head, silent.
“Take Xiao Cao and continue on your journey, and as for me,” she took a step forward towards the distant, undulating mountains, “I must also find my own path.”
Her skirt reflected in the mountains and water, like a cloud, poetic and picturesque.
Knowing my lord’s heart is like the bright moon, cherishing the bright moon is you, my dear.
________________________________________
The vast waves are out of sight, Leshui shakes the emerald sky.
The surging river waves, each muddier than the last, left a thick, dusty color between the faint green mountains.
“General.” Adjutant Han De walked behind the man who had been standing there for a long time. “The pontoon bridge and rafts are all ready.”
Finally, they had arrived here.
Han Yuexiao gazed at the other side of the river, a complex expression swirling in his resolute, star-like eyes.
A long fourteen years, gone in the blink of an eye.
The wind was still the wind of that time. The water was still the water of that year. The thick scent of blood mingled with the dust assailed him, as if bringing him back to that desolate night many years ago.
At that time, a tiny version of her still sat on his slender shoulders.
“One day, I shall cross the river, gaze northwest, and shoot down the Heavenly Wolf!”
The still-healing scar on his left cheek showed a bloody red hue, and a cold glint appeared in his aching, handsome eyes.
“Trample Yong!”
Howling horses neighed, and fine steeds rode the wind, leaving dust behind. Riding his horse towards the river, Han Yuexiao looked down on the distance like a general from heaven. One hand gripped the bow, the other held an arrow, drawing the carved bow like a full moon.
To the extreme of the string, to the extreme of strength, to the extreme of emotion.
Release!
Feathers sliced through the air, the river waves were stained with blood, and the bloody wind of fourteen years rose again, stirring up terrifying waves in the place of hatred.
“Chen, Shao.”
With blood between his teeth, Yuexiao raised his golden spear high. A thousand armies and ten thousand horses crossed the river, gazing northwest, to shoot down the Heavenly Wolf!
“Kill!”
________________________________________
“Kill!”
Outside the tent, roars shook the mountains and wilderness. Inside, Ling Yiran, dressed in bright yellow, feigned sleep with a half-smile.
“The Chen clan is at its wit’s end, why must Your Majesty lead the campaign personally?”
“This place is near water and surrounded by mountains, the terrain is quite perilous. Although the Marquis of Mianzhou aims for Qiancheng this time, what if he feigns an attack and comes to capture the King? What then, what then?”
The ministers seated below babbled on, full of worries. Suddenly, a cold snort cut through the clamor of the royal tent.
“Open the main formation wide.”
“Your Majesty!”
“No! Your Majesty!”
His slender, alluring eyes slowly lifted, filled with the bloody intensity of peach blossoms.
Your decision must be the same, Ye Jinglan.
________________________________________
Riding his horse with the wind, the blood-stained sunset fell behind him. Tree shadows flickered in his phoenix eyes. Ye Jinglan staggered with his long sword, the golden Midnight humming softly in the wind.
“Giddy-up!” “Giddy-up!”
The Azure Dragon Cavalry, armed with repeating crossbows, whipped their horses, following closely behind.
“Young Master.” Song Baolin looked at the resolute figure ahead, trying to advise him again. “Although Big Brother is attacking the city, our intention to ambush the main Qing army camp is too obvious. The Qing King must be prepared.”
Light and shadow played across Ye Jinglan’s profile, highlighting his resolute phoenix eyes.
“There’s still a long way to go. Why not first take Qiancheng, capture Gupu Cliff, and then... Young Master! Young Master!”
Deep in the evening clouds, does he know? The one approaching is for his lord.
It should end now, this heartbreaking separation.
His horse trampled the east wind. The main Qing army camp, built by the water, gradually came into view. His eyes like a cold pool, stern as a pine, Ye Jinglan spurred his horse like a flying arrow, charging into the twilight mist outside the forest.
Ying...
Such a familiar sound. The Midnight sword in his hand resonated with it.
Was it the sword moving, or his heart moving? He couldn’t distinguish, and had no time to distinguish.
Looking up at the dense canopy above, his phoenix eyes rippled and swayed, like water warming in spring, like ice breaking in a cold pool, imbued with a gentle spring warmth.
He gazed unblinkingly, ignoring the thousands of iron cavalry following closely behind, forgetting the Qing camp with its wide-open gate ahead.
Ying...
The wind came from the southeast, and his blue robe swirled with it.
“Young Master!”
________________________________________
The wind beneath her feet surged into the sky, swirling her landscape-colored robes. In the distant battlefield, war drums thundered, and ten thousand horses neighed in unison.
Standing on the cliff where her parents last stood, she looked at the abyss filled with twilight, her heart unusually calm.
She had let go of everything: the childhood of full moons and reunited families, the past filled with hatred and blood. Now, only... could stir her emotions.
Her heart fluttered. A faint hint of light green emerged from behind her landscape-colored dress.
Only, only...
The silver sword in her hand whimpered. The veil on her hat blew across her face, reflecting faint traces of tears.
Slowly, she turned around. And so, separated by the thin, tear-stained veil, they gazed at each other, silently.
The wind of that time passed through the clouds of this moment, as if in an instant, longing deepened into love.
Was a step further still a dream? He took a step closer, yet feared waking from the dream once more.
Suddenly, a disturbance. A warhorse leaped out from behind the trees.
Trample Yong...
Her moon eyes suddenly widened, her gaze abruptly shifting upwards.
Bro...ther.
The severed head hanging from the horse’s neck dripped sticky blood. Yuexiao stood with his spear, his eyes brimming with starlight.
“Good...” A single word trembled from his thin lips. Even Trample Yong neighed, sensing its master’s激动 (agitated) emotions.
“Good...” When he spoke again, it was still that same word.
“General!” A loud shout broke Yuexiao’s surging emotions. It was a few Qing soldiers who had arrived.
“Is that?” The battle-crazed soldier spurred his horse closer to the cliff edge. “The Marquis of Mianzhou?”
“Yes! It’s the Marquis of Mianzhou!”
“The General has already taken the head of the Yong King. If we add the Marquis of Mianzhou, that would be a world-shaking feat!”
The soldiers cheered in unison, but failed to notice that Yuexiao’s hand gripped the spear tighter and tighter.
“Eh?” The leading soldier tilted his head, looking behind the blue-clad figure. “This woman seems to be...”
Before he could finish, his head had already fallen to the ground.
When the soldiers recognized the person who struck the blow, they were too stunned to speak.
“I will properly arrange for your families. Rest in peace.”
Fresh red blood warmed the spring night. The two corpses had just fallen but were made to tremble slightly by a sudden tremor of the earth. Yuexiao looked back at the forest where startled birds scattered; the main forces were about to arrive.
To gain, also means to lose. This pain of blood separated from water, this utterly helpless outcome. Yet, she could only choose to bid farewell once more.
“Take care, brother.”
Standing on the cliff edge, she leaned backward and fell. Her veiled hat was blown away by the mountain wind, disarraying her landscape-colored dress. Her eyes flashed past his pained, star-like gaze, past the blood-stained scenery on the cliff, finally settling into a pair of phoenix eyes that curved with spring-like warmth.
The reason for her return, from the very beginning, was him.
“Xiuyuan...”
Her falling body landed in that familiar embrace, a bittersweet four years.
“I finally found you.”
Midnight and the Soul-Slayer merged into one, carving deep marks on the steep cliff face.
“Qingqing...”
________________________________________
In the first month of Dingqian Year 4, the Emperor personally led an expedition. His intention to destroy Yong coincided with that of the Marquis of Mianzhou. King Li was pursued to the west of Leshui. King Li sent envoys to request surrender. The Emperor beheaded them, declaring it a dream. King Li then defected to Mian. The Ye clan did not kill the envoys but sent a document in return. It stated: April 27th, battle.
When the time came, the Mian and Qing armies laid siege to the city. Repeating crossbows fired in unison, cannons roared, their sound shaking for a hundred li. The battle lasted until sunset. General Fusupo, Han Yuexiao, slew King Li beneath his horse and carried the rebel’s head to Gupu Cliff. Approximately three ke (quarters of an hour) later, his personal retainers caught up, only to see the General’s golden spear stained with blood, and the Marquis of Mianzhou defeated and falling off the cliff.
At that time, General Chengwu, Lei Lifeng, acting on the Emperor’s command, took a detour via Red River to ambush Mianzhou when the battle in Qiancheng began. It happened that the Mianzhou navy attacked, and the Emperor and the Ye clan coincidentally “agreed.” However, after seven days of battle, the Mianzhou army surrendered upon hearing of the Marquis’s death.
Thus, though there were still Northern Liang and later Jing, Divine Kun had fallen into the Emperor’s hands, and the world was initially settled.
Records of the Warring States: Dingqian
________________________________________
The Milky Way links with the cloud waves, the moon is bright over the sea.
In the heart of the waves, the sea vessel gently rocked, shattering the moonlight throughout the cabin.
Within the softly warmed bed curtains, a pair of mandarin duck pillows, a pair of people dreaming.
Suddenly, the woman on the inner side opened her beautiful eyes, her gaze, like the moon, slowly tracing every inch of the handsome profile on the pillow beside her. Her fingers gently tied together two strands of hair, one light and one dark.
“Sweet dreams, Xiuyuan,” she whispered.
He pulled her into his embrace, his slightly cool, thin lips curving upwards.
“Sweet dreams, Qingqing.”
Listen, the moonlit world is quiet.
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