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That night, Long Ming ultimately didn’t go looking for Liu Zhi.
After Di Jiang returned to the camp, Wen Yao pulled her urgently and asked, “Master, where did you go so late at night?”
“To find a lost little wolf.”
“Can wolves get lost?” Wen Yao frowned, upset. “You must be hiding something from me.”
“How could that be?” Di Jiang smiled and then told Wen Yao about Long Ming’s intention to search for Liu Zhi.
Upon hearing this, Wen Yao became even angrier and exclaimed, “General Long is being too sentimental.”
“Yes, but that is both his flaw and his virtue. In this vast world, how many men are truly loyal and righteous?”
“He’s loyal and righteous? I think he’s greedy, wanting both the fish and the bear’s paw!”
“It depends on how you see it. Others’ opinions don’t matter much. The most important thing is what Princess Zhaohe thinks. When she recovers, her reaction might be even more intense than Long Ming’s.” Di Jiang wrote a prescription for treating a cold, handed it to Wen Yao, and said, “The army doctor has seen Wu Jingyi before; make sure he doesn’t see Liu Zhi again. The fewer people who know about this, the better. Go give this prescription to Hong Qiao and have her fetch the medicine from the army doctor.”
“Master…” Wen Yao looked troubled.
“Hurry up, why are you hesitating?” Di Jiang glared at her.
“Do I really have to go?”
“It’s such a simple task. Why are you being so hesitant?” Di Jiang scolded her quietly in annoyance.
“Master… You always said you wouldn’t save the living. Are you giving Princess a prescription because she…”
Di Jiang ‘ah’-ed softly and secretly smiled, “You’re right. Princess Zhaohe will die.”
“Ah…” After Di Jiang spoke, Wen Yao’s face fell.
Seeing her distress, Di Jiang smiled again and said, “Princess Zhaohe will always sit solemnly in Gaoque City, becoming the Queen of the Turks. Wu Jingyi can no longer use that name anymore. For her, the past Wu Jingyi is dead, isn’t it?”
“You mean…”
“Yes, whatever identity Wu Jingyi lives under in the future, she can no longer be a princess.”
“That’s good, as long as she can still live.” Wen Yao beamed with joy, took the prescription, and went to Liu Zhi’s tent.
After finishing her errand, Wen Yao walked back to her own tent. At this time, Di Jiang was holding a flowery book and slightly furrowed her brows.
“What are you doing, Master?”
“Writing the Flower Deity Record.”
“Eh?” Wen Yao became interested and immediately leaned over, anxiously asking, “Does Master’s Flower Deity Record have a fifth flower deity?”
“Hmm… How about this sentence as an introduction?” Di Jiang pointed to the collection, after ‘Pomegranate Flower Deity,’ there was a five-character quatrain poem, which read: “Heavy green curtains surround, sparse red scarves atop. Flowers bloom early or late, no need to marry the spring breeze.”
“What does it mean?” Wen Yao was completely confused, indicating she didn’t understand it at all.
“This is a poem praising pomegranates. Pomegranates are also called Danruo. The meaning of the poem is that the dense branches and thick leaves of pomegranate flowers are like heavy green curtains, and the pomegranate flowers on the branches are like clustered, sparse scarlet scarves. Flowers naturally bloom early or late, no need to rush with the season and yield to the east wind of spring. Look, pomegranate flowers do not compete with other flowers for the season, blooming freely in summer, aren’t they also beautifying the summer?”
“This poem praises the pomegranate well, but who is your flower deity?” Wen Yao was curious.
Di Jiang hummed a song, and after a while, she uttered two words: “Liu Zhi.”
“Liu Zhi?!” Wen Yao sharply raised her voice, extremely anxious, “Why her? She used to do all sorts of bad things! Why can even a thoroughly wicked maid become a deity?”
“A maid, by nature, is lowly.” Di Jiang ignored her flailing and calmly said, “She has times when she is compelled by circumstances.”
“Sad? Why should it be sad? I am also your maid, and I’m happy every day.”
“Do you think everyone in the world is as carefree as you? Do they all have a master as good as me?” Di Jiang smiled and said, “A maid is just a servant. Their status is sometimes lower than that of ordinary servants. They don’t have separate household registers; they are like livestock, can be sold and enslaved. Sometimes they are used as outlets for the male masters of the house, casually abandoned or shared for pleasure. In short, if the master wants you to go west, you cannot go east. All life-and-death powers are in the hands of the master. They have no sense of security.”
“So? Just because she is a pitiful maid, she gained your sympathy?” Wen Yao said.
“All lovable people in the world are pitiable, and all hateful people are also pitiable.”
“Too profound.” Wen Yao pouted, indicating she didn’t understand.
“Liu Zhi indeed had nothing worthwhile in the past, but now she has aspects that evoke pity.”
Her phrase ‘born lowly, aspirations high’ still lingered in Di Jiang’s mind. This was the phrase that once shamed Mei Jie to death and was the nightmare that bound countless women of low status.
In this world, the notion of matching social status has deterred how many? How many can strive for themselves like her?
“Liu Zhi served Princess Zhaohe since childhood, living and traveling with her, yet their lives were worlds apart. Everyone wants a better life and the right to freedom. Striving is not a bad thing; it’s just that gentlemen love wealth but acquire it through proper means. Liu Zhi’s ‘path’ was once misguided, but now she is willing to return to her rightful path, and that is forgivable. She is also a pitiable woman.”
Wen Yao nodded blankly.
Di Jiang continued, “There was once a poem called ‘Maiden Poem’ that said: Barefoot and disheveled year after year, youth gradually passes amidst busyness. Fetching water at dusk following the tiger team, carrying firewood at dawn breaking the rooster’s crow, busy days often leave one half-starved, sewing clothes at midnight until dawn, sweeping the hall unfinished, and then being called to hold the child in the room—enough to see the hardships of being a maid.”
Wen Yao rolled her eyes and said, “Liu Zhi was the princess’s personal maid, living a comfortable life from childhood to adulthood. How could she suffer like ordinary maids?”
“It can’t be said like that. Palace maids are mostly official slaves, and their situation is probably harsher than that of private maids. Palace maids are not allowed to wear rouge, nor can they wear red or purple. Even daily clothing must be plain and simple. Even sleeping is restricted—they are not allowed to sleep on their backs or spread their legs, as these are considered unlucky postures that offend the gods. Dowry maids often serve as concubines, with a status not much higher than that of personal maids, and they face many restrictions, having even less freedom.”
“So what? If it weren’t for her ruining Princess Zhaohe’s spring breeze back then, she wouldn’t be ruined by the autumn wind today. Everything is her own fault,” Wen Yao sneered, saying, “Besides, there are thousands of maids in the world. Can you save them all?”
“Don’t think about what you can’t see. If I see it, then I’ll blow away this misleading autumn wind.” Di Jiang smiled faintly, picked up the jade pen, and added Liu Zhi’s name to the ledger. Her life story leapt onto the paper.
“What do you intend to do?” Wen Yao frowned.
“I’m just giving her a chance, blowing away the gloom around Liu Zhi.”
“What opportunity?”
“The Turks have a strong bloodline and fewer rules compared to the Central Plains. But once they see things beyond their understanding, fear will breed and spread within their hearts, eventually consuming their bodies and souls. That’s the opportunity I’m giving her.”
Wen Yao thought Di Jiang was talking about Liu Zhi, but she was wrong.
The ‘her’ Di Jiang referred to, Di Jiang didn’t even know her name.
The next day, the fever of the Turkic Khan subsided, but he began to cough violently. He coughed until his heart and lungs felt torn, and still couldn’t stop even after spitting blood.
Late that night, a wisp of white smoke entwined with blood floated to Di Jiang’s tent miles away.
“White Moon thanks the young lady for her help. Such great kindness cannot be repaid. Please accept White Moon’s bow.”
A sigh drifted through the air. Di Jiang heard the voice but saw no one. As the voice faded, two halos of red and white light disappeared as well.
Only then did Di Jiang realize that the Rouran princess who came for the marriage alliance was named Bai Yue.
At that moment, on the head hanging in the middle of the city tower of Gaoque, Bai Yue’s wide-open, unblinking eyes finally closed.
Meanwhile, Khan Jiexun passed away.
He was fifty-four years old.
…
Two days later, news of Khan Jiexun’s death came. Wu Rui’an and Long Ming were greatly shocked. They wanted to persuade the Turks to bring Liu Zhi back, but just as they were about to return, they received another urgent dispatch from the Turks. The letter stated: Khan Jiexun has passed away. Prince Shu Man will ascend the throne soon and will hold a grand wedding ceremony again, still respecting Princess Zhaohe Wu Jingyi as the queen, the only queen of the Turks.
Upon receiving the news, everyone exchanged glances. Unconsciously, the handsome visage of Prince Shu Man appeared in their minds. If Liu Zhi could share meals with him, forming a deep bond, it might truly become a beautiful tale.
When Wu Jingyi woke up from her illness and learned of this, her first reaction was not joy.
“Why has my life been repeatedly controlled by a maid?”
She sighed deeply and then gritted her teeth, saying, “My life has been manipulated by her twice. Who does she think she is? Does she think doing this will make me grateful to her?”
Wu Jingyi continued, “Besides, she didn’t do it to save me. She only did it to make herself feel better. Perhaps, in Long Ming’s eyes, only by doing this can she gain forgiveness.”
“In the end, she did it for herself. I won’t forgive her.”
Wu Jingyi was extremely agitated and vowed to return to Gaoque City. Wu Rui’an tried to calm her for a long time but couldn’t soothe her mood. Eventually, when she was about to rush out of the tent, Wu Rui’an had no choice but to painfully knock her unconscious and put her back to bed.
Long Ming and Wu Rui’an knew Wu Jingyi’s temperament well. Sitting in the tent, they discussed for a whole night without finding a solution.
Di Jiang, however, wasn’t worried. She leisurely listened to their discussions all night. Finally, she quietly added a bundle of ‘Forget-Worry Grass’ to her herbal soup.
The next day, when Wu Jingyi woke up, her memory returned to when she was twelve, happily calling “Brother Long” and chasing after Long Ming alone.
Only the happiest memories remained in her mind.
“How did she become like this?” Wu Rui’an was puzzled and asked Di Jiang.
Di Jiang shrugged and said, “Perhaps the recent blows were too much, so she forgot the painful memories and only retained the happy ones.”
“Once a sister is married, she’s like spilled water….” Wu Rui’an sighed helplessly but finally put his mind at ease. As long as Wu Jingyi was healthy and happy, what did it matter what she remembered or forgot?
Half a month later, after crossing Yin Mountain, traversing the desert, and returning to the pass, Long Ming handed over the military insignia and resigned from his position as Grand General.
Wu Rui’an accepted his resignation. That evening, for the first time, he invited him to a banquet.
After three rounds of drinks, Wu Rui’an solemnly said, “Jingyi can’t return to the palace anymore, nor should she return to Taiping Prefecture.”
Long Ming nodded, “Jingyi has finally gained her freedom. Naturally, she can’t go back. I won’t let her risk becoming a caged bird again.”
“What are your plans next?” Wu Rui’an asked.
Long Ming thought for a moment and said, “Jingyi has already enjoyed worldly splendor, and the past has turned to dust. Once she fully recovers, I will take her to see our magnificent landscape of Xuanwu. I will spend the rest of my life taking her to famous mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas.”
“Good… very good, that’s best.” Wu Rui’an couldn’t stop nodding in praise, tears glistening in his eyes.
The next day, Long Ming parted ways with the army, taking Wu Jingyi and Hong Qiao with him. As winter approached, they planned to go south to Jiangnan to avoid the cold. Long Ming bought a carriage at the station and drove it himself, carrying Wu Jingyi and Hong Qiao southward towards Huizhou.
Only Wu Rui’an and Di Jiang along with Wen Yao were present to see them off. Watching their departing figures, Wu Rui’an asked Di Jiang worriedly, “How long will it take for her to regain her memory?”
“One month? Three months? A year?” Di Jiang smiled and said, “When Long Ming takes her across the nine provinces, visiting famous mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas, when the world holds only each other in their hearts, perhaps then her memory will return.”
“It’s better if she never remembers. According to Princess Zhaohe’s fiery temperament, who knows what outrageous things she might do…” Wen Yao shook her head, worried.
Di Jiang shrugged and smiled, “But the border can’t do without General Long. He will definitely return. When he comes back, he will bring back the healthy princess from before. No, at that time, she should be called Mrs. Long.”
“Defending the territory is my responsibility. What is there to fear?” Wu Rui’an sighed deeply. His greatest worry was whether his sister would be happy. From then on, he would shoulder the affairs of the state alone.
At this time, Di Jiang stopped speaking, just smiling faintly. That smile seemed to encompass the changing seasons and the passage of time, her eyes so deep that no one could guess what she was thinking.
Wu Rui’an didn’t ask anymore. After all, this ordeal was over, and he was ultimately more relieved than distressed. Di Jiang’s unfathomability wasn’t something new, and getting used to it became natural. After all, the boat will straighten itself when it reaches the bridgehead.
That night, Di Jiang silently departed, traveling lightly with Wen Yao southward to seek the Qingyun Mountain deep within the Yunmeng Marsh.
That place was once Zhong Xu’s hometown.