CXD - 86

Yuan Ce soon retrieved an ointment from Li Dafeng and sat on the edge of the bed, gently applying it to Jiang Zhiyi’s neck. He carefully spread the cream over the reddened marks: “Does it hurt?”

“If I say it doesn’t hurt, you won’t believe me…” Jiang Zhiyi replied for what felt like the hundredth time. “Then yes, it hurts. It hurts so much I want to bite you!”

Yuan Ce frowned deeply as he continued applying the ointment. Jiang Zhiyi looked at his anguished expression and wondered if he could, would he bite himself to death?

Yuan Ce wiped the remaining ointment from his fingertips and tilted his neck toward her: “Go ahead. Bite.”

Jiang Zhiyi leaned forward and bit down gently on his Adam’s apple.

Her teeth grazed his throat, sending a shiver through him—not painful, but tingling. Yuan Ce’s hand resting on his knee tightened abruptly: “…Who told you to bite there?”

“Everything about you belongs to me now. Why can’t I bite wherever I want?”

“This is a military camp. Do you want me to break discipline by indulging you?” Yuan Ce glanced down at her with a stern look.

“I wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. There’s something more important we need to do right now.”

“What is it?”

Jiang Zhiyi pointed outside the tent: “This Duchess wants to watch the sunrise.”

Two quarters of an hour later, Jiang Zhiyi and Yuan Ce were riding together on one horse, with him holding her securely from behind as they trotted slowly along the winding mountain path.

The horse moved at a leisurely pace, and the cool yet gentle breeze of late summer after the rain brushed against their faces, perfectly refreshing.

As the sky gradually shifted from its darkest hue to a grayish blue, Jiang Zhiyi turned her head and said: “It’s already getting light. At this speed, will we make it to the mountaintop before sunrise?”

Yuan Ce glanced at her sideways: “If I ride faster, it’ll jolt you too much. Tomorrow, you’ll be unable to walk, and people might think I mistreated you.”

…She wished she hadn’t understood the implication of those words.

Jiang Zhiyi silently turned her head back, cleared her throat, and changed the subject: “Aren’t you going to ask about my relationship with the fourth prince?”

“Not curious.”

“Well, I’m going to explain anyway. My acquaintance with him ended when I was around ten years old. Back then, I didn’t understand anything; I only thought of him as a playmate. The reason he remembers that I don’t eat dumplings must be because my aversion is so unusual—after all, everyone eats dumplings during the New Year.”

Yuan Ce gave a low hum.

She may have been naive back then, but Qi Yan was five years older than her. How could he not understand?

If the fourth prince harbored only childhood camaraderie for her, he wouldn’t have deliberately avoided her after declining their marriage proposal, nor would he cut off all contact afterward. He wouldn’t have reacted with such a complex expression when she said tonight, “People change; I’m different now.” Nor would he have lowered his eyelashes when he saw them being affectionate with each other.

Of course, these thoughts weren’t necessary to share with Jiang Zhiyi.

The sky slowly brightened from a grayish blue to a radiant glow, with streaks of red beginning to paint the horizon. Jiang Zhiyi urged Yuan Ce: “Can this horse go any faster? Forget whether I can walk tomorrow—hurry up, hurry up!”

Yuan Ce flicked the reins with a whip, and the black warhorse surged forward like the wind. Jiang Zhiyi clutched the saddle tightly, letting out a startled cry, only to be pulled firmly into his embrace by a strong arm around her waist.

Feeling herself bouncing as though she might fly off, Jiang Zhiyi’s heart raced, her half-tied hair whipping wildly in the wind: “I didn’t mean this fast!”

Yuan Ce raised an eyebrow: “You said the horse couldn’t handle it. Horses have tempers, you know.”

“Is it the horse or you who has a temper?” As they approached a bend in the mountain path, Yuan Ce didn’t even pull the reins, simply galloping past the curve like a gust of wind with her in tow. Jiang Zhiyi screamed loudly: “Are we going to fall off the cliff?! Will I become the first person in history to accidentally die watching the sunrise with my lover?! If Da Ye’s historians record this, I’ll lose all face as the Duchess of Yongying—!”

Yuan Ce laughed heartily in the wind: “Too bad I can’t join my fiancée in losing face like that.”

“…” People who won’t leave their names in history books truly have nothing to fear.

With another flick of the whip, the fearless rider spurred the warhorse onward, racing toward the summit like a streaking meteor. Jiang Zhiyi screamed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly: “Ah—!”

She shouted until her voice grew hoarse and her throat burned. Suddenly, the horse reared up and came to an abrupt stop. Gasping for breath, Jiang Zhiyi clutched the saddle tightly, trying to piece together her shattered soul.

Yuan Ce tugged the reins and turned the horse’s head: “Open your eyes.”

Jiang Zhiyi opened her eyes and looked up just in time to see rays of golden sunlight tearing through the clouds, shimmering across the vast expanse of heaven and earth. The newborn sun leapt above the majestic peaks, and in an instant, the mountain mist dispersed, flooding the world with light.

Jiang Zhiyi gazed at the brilliant horizon, her breathing slowly calming. After a quiet moment of contemplation, she suddenly turned her head back toward him: “Do you feel better now?”

Yuan Ce blinked, his gaze shifting from the distant horizon to her face: “What?”

“When I was little, I had a nightmare once. I woke up in the middle of the night, too scared to fall back asleep. Father took me to watch the sunrise. He said that the terrifying monsters in our dreams come from the demons within our hearts. If our hearts turn toward the light, we’ll see the dawn, and those frightening things won’t come near us anymore.” Jiang Zhiyi hadn’t thought of these memories in a long time, but seeing Yuan Ce’s nightmare earlier had brought them back. “I brought you here to watch the sunrise. Will your nightmare feel better now?”

Yuan Ce’s eyes flickered softly as he stared intently into hers.

Reflected in her eyes were the sparkling rays of sunlight—and him.

The damp, shadowy images from his dream resurfaced in his mind. Yuan Ce slowly raised his eyes and looked toward the distant capital region, as if he could see that towering, icy palace once again.

Back then, before his father had the chance to level that palace, the late emperor passed away. In his grief, his father redirected his hatred for one person onto everyone who resembled that person, telling him they were all equally deserving of death.

When he first entered the city called “Chang’an,” he had intended to end its era of peace—to destroy everyone who sat high and mighty within that palace. Perhaps back then, his list even included Jiang Zhiyi, whom he had never met.

He wanted to obliterate those who treated human lives like ants underfoot, overturning the dynasty they had painstakingly built. But he had never imagined sitting on the throne himself.

Before entering that city, he had fantasized countless times about how it would all end.

When the palace walls collapsed, the bricks shattered, and the entire structure was consumed by roaring flames, perhaps he would perish alongside it, ending his meaningless life.

Tonight was the closest he had ever come to that ending.

Riding thousands of miles to aid the throne, bringing his troops here—there would never be a better opportunity than tonight. With a single command, the soldiers his father had trained would charge forward, risking their lives for him without hesitation.

But that ending was never destined for someone who feared death and clung to life.

“Pitiful are the bones scattered along the riverbank, still haunting the dreams of those waiting at home.” When he truly understood this line of poetry, he found himself increasingly attached to living—and increasingly determined to give others the chance to live as well, especially those soldiers who had loved ones waiting for them.

He knew full well that even without the imperial decree tonight, without the imperial army stationed here, and without the fourth prince’s subtle hints, he would not have led them down that path.

Holding the butcher’s knife, he had stepped closer and closer to the palace his father had painted as a den of sin—but then an unexpected twist of fate had pushed him in the opposite direction, away from the predetermined end.

Perhaps it wasn’t that he no longer harbored hatred; it was simply that he now craved love more deeply.

His father had never taught him about love—perhaps because he feared that once Yuan Ce experienced love and saw the light, he would lay down the blade of vengeance.

Yuan Ce slowly turned his gaze back, looking at the horse halted at the edge of the cliff, and at Jiang Zhiyi, who stared at him without blinking. He pulled her tightly into his arms from behind: “Jiang Zhiyi, with you by my side, I won’t have nightmares anymore.”

Jiang Zhiyi smiled and held his hand resting on her waist: “That’s good.”

At the hour of Chen, the Xuan Ce Army and the imperial army stood facing each other across the invisible boundary, like two opposing forces on either side of a chessboard. Then they turned their horses, one heading west, the other east, parting ways.

Yuan Ce temporarily handed over command of the troops to his deputy and brought Li Dafeng along to escort Jiang Zhiyi back to the capital.

Since they were already here, it was only right to let Li Dafeng personally examine and treat Lord Yong’en in Chang’an.

As for Yuan Ce, he wasn’t supposed to linger after the rebellion had been quelled. Moreover, just days ago, he had received a report from Mu Xinhong, who was stationed in Hexi, informing him that the Xi Luo tribe to the west had been growing restless. They frequently harassed the border, plundering resources and supplies from the people of Hexi. It seemed they had heard of Da Ye’s internal strife and intended to take advantage of the chaos.

Thus, at most, he could accompany Jiang Zhiyi to the outskirts of Chang’an before turning back to reunite with his army and return to Hexi as quickly as possible.

After three days of travel, they reached the last post station, just dozens of miles from Chang’an.

Jiang Zhiyi entered the post station where she had stayed during the Lantern Festival. She remembered how she and Yuan Ce had traveled together to Hexi back then, and now they were parting ways again here. After dinner and a bath, as bedtime approached and dawn loomed near, marking their imminent separation, she couldn’t help but sigh repeatedly in the room while gazing at Yuan Ce.

“How fickle fate is. Last time we were here, it was Physician Li and Sister Baojia saying goodbye. Now, Physician Li can finally reunite with Baojia in Chang’an, while we’ll have to wait until the end of the year to see each other again.”

Jingzhe gave them some private time. Yuan Ce, playing the role of Jiang Zhiyi’s manservant, was sprinkling insect-repellent incense in the corner of the bedroom.

Because of the recent rains, the incense had absorbed moisture and wasn’t dispersing smoothly. Yuan Ce, on the verge of losing his patience, shook the sachet as he responded: “Focus on your wedding gown when you get back. If it’s not finished by the end of the year, I might be too lazy to marry you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jiang Zhiyi, lying on the edge of the bed, calculated with her fingers. “If all goes smoothly, I should finish by August. That still leaves four months to wait for you. If you don’t make it by the end of the year, I might be too lazy to marry you!”

Yuan Ce finished scattering the unnecessary incense and turned to pinch her chin: “If you refuse to marry me, I’ll kidnap you.”

Jiang Zhiyi slapped his hand away: “How dare you touch my face with that insect repellent! Have you stopped liking me?”

“…”

Yuan Ce raised his other hand: “I used this hand, Ancestor.”

“Then hurry up and take a bath. There are only a few hours left before dawn. Stop wasting time and get into bed.”

If it weren’t for her worrying about snakes and insects on summer nights, would he have been busy until now? Yuan Ce grabbed a set of casual clothes and headed into the bathing chamber.

Jiang Zhiyi lay on the bed, listening to the sound of running water in the bathing chamber, which flowed like the passage of time, and sighed again and again.

Just as she was letting out another sigh, her eyes casually swept past the half-open window nearby. Suddenly, she spotted a slender green bamboo stalk leaning against the window frame.

Was there a bamboo grove outside this post station? She didn’t remember seeing it earlier.

Before Jiang Zhiyi could fully process her confusion, the green bamboo suddenly “came alive.” It wriggled its way through the window frame and raised a triangular, flattened head.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in shock: “Ah—! Yuan Ce, Yuan Ce, Yuan Ce, Yuan Ce…!”

The sound of running water in the bathing chamber abruptly stopped. A few breaths later, the door was flung open, and Yuan Ce rushed out in a single stride. At the same moment, Jiang Zhiyi leapt off the bed with an agility she had never shown before, barely managing to wrap her legs around his waist.

With one hand holding her and the other drawing his sword from the rack, Yuan Ce flicked the snake out of the window. In the next instant, the window slammed shut, sealing off the danger.

Still trembling from the scare, Jiang Zhiyi clung to Yuan Ce’s neck and looked back, panting heavily: “B-But… didn’t you sprinkle the incense?”

Yuan Ce closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming his racing heart, which had never beaten so fast in his life. He swallowed lightly: “It might be because… the incense got damp.”

“Huh? If it got damp, it definitely wouldn’t work! Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Jiang Zhiyi turned to look at him.

“Do you think I understand how to use such precious things?”

Jiang Zhiyi freed one hand from around his neck and pressed it to her chest: “We almost met our end here. Thankfully, thankfully you came just in time—”

Hmm? How did he come so quickly?

Mid-sentence, Jiang Zhiyi tilted her head back and slowly lowered her gaze. From his bare upper body, she traced her eyes downward to the lower half wrapped in nothing but a damp cloth.

Yuan Ce followed her gaze and looked down.

In an instant, the two reacted with lightning speed—one scrambling to climb down as quickly as she had climbed up, the other darting back into the bathing chamber as swiftly as he had rushed out.

Jiang Zhiyi scrambled back onto the bed, her face flushing red as she recalled the faint outlines and colors she had glimpsed through the thin, wet cloth. She covered her burning face with her hands.

In the dead silence, the sound of running water in the bathing chamber failed to resume.

Jiang Zhiyi cautiously parted her fingers and peeked toward the bathing chamber screen, spotting a tall, rigid figure leaning against the door.

“Y-You… what’s wrong…?” Jiang Zhiyi asked timidly.

Yuan Ce didn’t respond, seemingly frozen in place as he tried to calm something within himself.

She should say something to ease the tension…

Could she pretend she hadn’t seen anything? That would be too fake.

But aside from pretending not to see, what else could she say to comfort him?

After struggling for a long while, Jiang Zhiyi mustered her courage and blurted out: “...Don’t feel embarrassed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I think… it looks better than the paintings.”