#69: Autumn Geese and Wild Swans (1)

“Do you remember, how many times have we met now?”

Ye Tingyan leaped over the lattice window and sat on the chaise longue where he often sat. Hearing her question, he raised an eyebrow, thought seriously for a moment, but finally said, “We’ve met too many, too many times. I can’t remember.”

The red candle, only half burnt, was extinguished by the breeze he brought in when he entered the hall. Luo Wei stood before him, placing her hand on his shoulder, sliding down along the uneven gold-threaded embroidery: “We’ve met so many times, and you’ve helped me with many things, yet I have nothing to repay you with.”

She bent her knees slightly, her fingers gripping his sleeve: “Come with me.”

Ye Tingyan obediently allowed himself to be pulled up by her. Seeing her lead him towards her inner chambers, he was somewhat surprised: “Empress, where are you taking me? What, you don’t want to kill me anymore?”

Luo Wei turned her head, giving him an annoyed look: “That day, you clearly handed the knife to me yourself, so why are you blaming me now? If I wanted to kill you, would you still be standing here?”

That night, he clearly saw the murderous intent in her eyes.

But she ultimately did not act.

So Ye Tingyan also pretended not to know, merely smiling: “This subject thanks the Empress for her grace.”

Luo Wei lifted the curtain made of red Buddhist banners, leading him inside.

Her inner chamber was always lit with candles. At this moment, there were lotus-phoenix bone marrow candles that could burn through the night. These candles were slightly thicker and taller than ordinary ones, placed at both ends of the cramped inner chamber, casting flickering shadows on the hanging portraits.

Last time, he had been in too much of a hurry. Ye Tingyan hadn’t looked closely. Now, with a quick glance, he realized that besides the portraits and the offering table, the room only contained a narrow couch and two prayer mats. The secret room he had entered previously had a bookshelf occupying an entire wall at its entrance, filled with a mix of Buddhist scriptures, Taoist texts, and folk myths, as well as many copied sutras.

The garden outside Qionghua Palace was large and had many trees. The secret room was concealed between the palace and the pond. Had he not been pushed into it by Luo Wei last time, he would certainly have found it difficult to imagine that such a confined inner chamber contained another world.

He was still standing before the Buddha, deep in thought, when suddenly two hands wrapped around him from behind, embracing him.

Luo Wei pressed close, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Ye Tingyan once again inhaled the scent of roses. It had lost its former purity and become rich and dangerous. Luo Wei’s hands traced down his throat but did not venture further, lingering just below his collarbone, lightly touching it.

A very obvious invitation.

Ye Tingyan turned around, remembering her words, “I have nothing to repay you with.”

—The so-called repayment, was it... this?

Before he could think further, Luo Wei stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed him.

It was like a petal falling on his lips.

She closed her eyes, her hands on his shoulders, kissing very intently. Ye Tingyan, of course, accepted such an offering without hesitation. Even if he didn’t immediately understand her sudden purpose, he indulged himself and sank into it, naturally accepting her overture.

Although they had kissed before, those kisses were either his seizure or her probing. When he forced Luo Wei, she always resisted; when Luo Wei kissed him half-sincerely, he always wondered if she had treated others this way too, and he wasn’t necessarily happy.

Perhaps it was because he had witnessed Yu Qiushi’s suicide today, but at this moment, his heart was strangely calm, without jealousy or resentment. There was only a slight comfort drawn from the elusive thoughts of an old friend.

So the kiss deepened. He wrapped his arm around Luo Wei’s waist, pressing her as they stumbled a few steps, looking for something to lean on. Unexpectedly, they found themselves stumbling towards the long couch in the corner of the wall, embracing each other.

Luo Wei touched the long couch and was momentarily startled, then chuckled knowingly, and sat down with him in a half-embrace.

Ye Tingyan took the opportunity to lean over, his arms propped beside her ears, continuing the kiss in an almost completely dominant posture.

Their breaths were completely disordered, entangled in a messy knot, unable to distinguish whose was whose. For the first time, they were this close, able to feel the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

Ye Tingyan lifted his head slightly, giving her a moment to breathe, and also to calm himself. Yet, Luo Wei wouldn’t let him go. She propped herself up and leaned in, her lips brushing his jawline.

“You’re so cold,” she whispered, in a very affectionate tone, “Your body is cold, your face is cold, even your lips are cold, only your palms...”

Luo Wei placed her hands on his, her fingers intertwining with his, then clasping tightly: “—are still so warm.”

In a confined world, before the Buddha, in the shadows of the offering candles, Ye Tingyan suddenly felt his eyes moisten, unable to see anything else. Before him was only her gentle expression, a tenderness that almost brought tears to his eyes—they should have been like this, they should have been like this long ago!

No deception, no masks, no deep thoughts, like a surging sea, needing to be guessed. Only close breaths, warm and moist, safe, signifying physical belonging and attachment, thus completely exposed.

He clasped her hand in return, pressing it onto the couch. Luo Wei only felt his palm growing hotter and hotter, and his kiss gradually lost its rhythm, becoming hard and lingering.

A faint scent of sandalwood, a faint scent of jasmine.

The candlelight flickered, creating illusions in this invasion. Luo Wei was dizzy and enchanted, almost on the verge of succumbing, when Ye Tingyan left her lips, his kisses sliding down her cheek to the side of her neck.

She was clearly the one who initiated it, so why was he the one unable to control his passion?

“I remember, you asked me many times—” Luo Wei managed to steady herself, using the leverage to pull her hand free and actively embracing his neck, whispering in his ear, “You asked me who else had been treated this way...”

Ye Tingyan looked up at her.

His eyes were beautifully shaped, or rather, most resembled. The palpebral fissures were long, deep, and captivating. Perhaps due to intense passion or chronic eye problems, they now had a hazy redness, adding a touch of alluring charm.

Ye Tingyan also saw such a scene when he looked up.

Luo Wei’s mother was one of the most beautiful women in Bianjing. She inherited her parents’ strengths, was adorable as a child, and grew into a captivating beauty. In the past, when she ascended the tower with other imperial city ladies to watch the top scholars, she always caught the eye of the scholars and literati riding past.

After becoming Empress, her beauty remained undiminished, with an added touch of arrogance and composure.

However, the disheveled Empress’s face was now flushed, her eyes burning with a drunken desire, completely losing her former dignified and polite demeanor.

He took this glance and felt his heart pound even faster. Lost in passion, he could only hear her whispers, unsure if they were true or false.

Luo Wei hugged him and continued, “Even if someone shows me affection, I have to weigh whether they are worth it, and what they are worth. Someone like you—”

“So useful, and so bold, there’s no one else like you.”

She hugged him tightly, as if both rebuking and complaining: “...Tingyan, only you have been treated this way. There has never been anyone else.”

The moment she spoke, he immediately believed her.

Desire blazed to the heavens, burning him so intensely that he couldn’t think. He pressed her onto the small couch, kissing her collarbone, her neck, and her shoulders. Feeling the thin veil obstructing him, he reached out to unfasten her front, and with a slight tug, pulled off the clothing from her shoulders.

Luo Wei offered no resistance, simply letting him take her.

If it were before, he would have been sullen over her audacity and recklessness. But now, hearing her enticing “only you,” his eyes were simply drenched with emotion, unable to be distracted, wishing only to demand more, without reservation.

The inner chamber was deep within the palace, but perhaps because it was close to the garden, a whistling wind suddenly swept past outside the wall. Ye Tingyan paused amidst his passion. The moment he was distracted, Luo Wei unexpectedly took the initiative, flipping over and pressing him onto the small couch. She leaned over and said, “Do you know? His Majesty will come looking for me tonight.”

Ye Tingyan’s chest heaved. Hearing those words, his breath suddenly hitched. Luo Wei didn’t wait for his reply and continued, “Hasn’t he always suspected I have a private affair with someone, even sending you to investigate again and again? Today, I knew you would come, so before you arrived, I specially sent someone to deliver a message to him. By my reckoning, he should be here soon.”

It was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, chilling him to the bone. Ye Tingyan jolted awake, asking incredulously, “...What did you say?”

Luo Wei perfunctorily kissed his cheek, teasing, “I said, His Majesty is coming. Are you scared?”

Scared?

It probably wasn’t fear. The moment he heard those words, he only felt bewildered and disbelieving.

This was the first time—the first time he had completely failed to guess the other person’s intentions. He could only ask in astonishment, “You... why would you do this?”

Luo Wei told him very calmly, “Tingyan, do you know why the Grand Tutor died?”

Ye Tingyan pulled himself out of his chaotic thoughts and blurted out, “You want to—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Luo Wei quickly asked, “Do you want to escape?”

A creaking sound came from beyond the curtain. Someone pushed open the wooden door of the sleeping chamber. Ye Tingyan shivered, but Luo Wei remained unhurried, merely glancing outside.

When the footsteps reached outside the curtain, Ye Tingyan finally saw that the person was dressed in eunuch attire, likely the palace servant he often saw guarding the hall.

Zhang Suwu lowered his voice: “Empress, he is coming.”

Luo Wei “hmm-ed”: “I know. You may go first.”

So Zhang Suwu left as commanded. Ye Tingyan wanted to get up, but Luo Wei pressed his chest with her hand, preventing him from moving: “Tingyan, I’ll give you two choices.”

Her hair was disheveled, her attire disarrayed. His front was also in disarray. Anyone who saw such a scene would guess what they were doing.

Even if he didn’t know Song Lan’s true feelings for Luo Wei, no man could endure such an insult. If he saw this scene, both of them would die without a burial place.

But Luo Wei was still so calm, speaking clearly: “First... you lie here, waiting for him to come in and see us both, then grant us a shared death. Didn’t you say you loved me? I believe you. To die with me for love would also be a loyal and passionate devotion to death.”

“Second—” she leaned into his ear, “I’ll let you into the secret room you’ve been in before. I remember, you also said you wanted to take a look after things were done. Alright, go ahead. But there are no lights in that secret room now. Unless you’re familiar with it, you definitely won’t find the place to light it, nor will you find the mechanism to open the door. As long as I don’t open the door, even if you die inside, no one will notice.”

“But you have to think carefully. If you choose this path, you will be dedicating your life, death, honor, and disgrace to me. From here, there’s no turning back.”

Footsteps sounded. Though interspersed with the chirping of cicadas, in the late summer night, he heard them so clearly.

Ye Tingyan breathed rapidly, looking up at her, and felt her face flicker and blur in the candlelight.

Why did Yu Qiushi die?

To kill is easy, to save is difficult.

To destroy the body is easy, to destroy the heart is difficult.

He thought slowly, no matter how many schemes and tricks, they couldn’t compare to “destroying the heart.”

—Tonight, she wanted to destroy his heart, to make him willingly choose, even at the cost of her own life, to force him into a choice from which there was no return.

In this moment between life and death, Luo Wei actually chuckled.

She reached out and brushed the hair from the ear of the person beneath her, gently urging, “Tingyan, have you chosen?”