When Yu Jingfeng was about to leave, he glanced back at her and said lightly, “If His Highness finds out that you abandoned the Lord, he will surely be displeased.”
Leng Yue’s heart lurched, and she snapped back as if waking from a dream. Looking at Zhan Qingcheng’s retreating figure as he walked away, the corners of her eyes stung, and she nearly let two tears fall.
Her Lord had not looked back. Once Feng Jiu’er and the others had fully departed, there was nothing left here to hold him.
Leng Yue watched him move farther and farther away until she could no longer see him. Only then did she finally bite her lip, turn, and follow out of the valley.
She was reluctant to part from her Lord — but tending to the foster father was her responsibility.
If anything happened to the foster father along the way, her Lord would never forgive her for the rest of his life!
Yet she truly wanted to stay at her Lord’s side — so very much, so very much…
……
Deep within the valley, there was an exceptionally quiet and secluded place.
That figure in plain white had been standing here for a very long time.
Not far before him, a stone stele had been erected, with several names carved upon it.
But the names were blocked by that plain white figure, making it impossible to make them out.
A gentle breeze stirred through the valley, and then a fine drizzle descended, a soft rain beginning to fall.
The rain was not heavy — delicate as frost, soft as mist — settling onto the man’s long hair and adding an even colder, more solemn air to his presence.
No one knew how much time had passed. Two figures appeared on the small path in the distance.
Hu Shuang handed the umbrella in her hand to Madam Butterfly, then turned and stepped away.
Madam Butterfly walked slowly over, holding the oiled paper umbrella above Zhan Qingcheng’s head, and said gently, “Are you thinking of them again?”
Zhan Qingcheng did not speak, only fixing his gaze on the stone stele before him, his eyes deep and fathomless.
Madam Butterfly’s gaze also fell upon the stone stele, her voice soft as the fine rain and the gentle wind.
“In truth, they are the fortunate ones — at the very least, they are together. It is my A’Jiu who has been alone and solitary for so many years. Has he not endured unbearable hardship?”
He still did not speak, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the names carved into the stele, his lips chilled to pallor, without a trace of warmth.
Every time he came here, it was like this — staring at the stele, sometimes standing for an entire day, with no one able to stop him or persuade him to leave.
Ordinarily, when he stood like this, Madam Butterfly would stand beside him — sometimes holding an umbrella for him, as she did now — and sometimes speaking to him.
But this child was never fond of talking. Most of the time, it was only she doing the speaking.
Whether he ever truly listened, no one could say.
Madam Butterfly’s gaze returned to his face. He was looking out at the scene before him, yet in this moment, he had become the most beautiful sight in her eyes.
“A’Jiu, at the very least you still have your aunt, do you not?”
Seeing the rain dampen his strikingly handsome face, leaving droplets along his features, Madam Butterfly drew out a handkerchief, wanting to wipe the rain from his cheeks.
But before her hand could touch his face, his large palm had already blocked it away.
Madam Butterfly did not take offense. Her A’Jiu had always been this way — since he was small, he had been like this, averse to a woman’s touch.
Having seen how he interacted with Feng Jiu’er today, she had thought his aversion to contact with women had changed. But it seemed his changes were, after all, person-specific.
As though she had long since grown accustomed to this, Madam Butterfly put the handkerchief away, continuing to study his face — its contours deep and defined, as though carved by a sculptor’s hand.
He did not speak, and so she simply stood beside him in silent companionship.
Again, no one knew how much time had passed. Hu Shuang came along the path and stood quietly at a distance. Only then did Madam Butterfly look at Zhan Qingcheng and say, “Your body is not what it was. Do not stand for too long. Come and rest soon.”
“Aunt will go find Divine Physician Mo Bai first and discuss the matter of removing the Gu Poison from your body. Do not stand too long — once you are well again, you can stand as long as you like, and Aunt will say nothing. All right?”
In truth, she was not truly his aunt, but over all these years, she had grown accustomed to having him call her that.
Knowing he would not heed her, and that he always sank into solitary contemplation at times like these, Madam Butterfly did not press further. She turned and walked toward Hu Shuang.
Hu Shuang seemed about to say something, but Madam Butterfly shook her head. Hu Shuang could only follow at Madam Butterfly’s side as they moved away from this place.
……
Drifting and sinking, as though afloat on the open sea — Feng Jiu’er had no idea where she was.
She only knew that deep within her heart there was an inexplicable ache, as though several blunt blades were carving into her with all their force.
If only they could strike a clean blow and end it — but the blades were simply not sharp enough, and so they hacked away at her heart with brute force, on and on, without cease.
It hurt! It hurt until every nerve, every cell was on the verge of shattering.
Yet just when she had managed to scrape together a fragment of will, feeling she was about to wake, that wave of dizziness suddenly seeped into her again from her shoulder.
Damned — someone had sealed her pressure points again, stripping her entirely of consciousness.
Ninth Imperial Uncle — without her, what would he do?
“Take good care of her.” Emperor Ji pushed his own wheelchair out through the door, leaving Leng Yue alone inside.
“My Lord.” Long Eleven and Long Twelve had been standing guard at the door. Seeing Emperor Ji come out on his own, they immediately went over to assist, pushing his wheelchair out from the room.
“My Lord, she… is waiting for you in the side hall.”
“I understand. You stay here and watch over this girl. I will go by myself.”
Leaving Long Eleven and Long Twelve behind, Emperor Ji made his way alone toward the side hall.
This was the inn at Mo City. They carried the Feilong Shi’er Qi’s token, which gave them free passage in and out as they pleased.
But the two people in the side hall — with or without a token, they seemed capable of coming and going freely anywhere, as though unbound by such things.
“Sir Di.” When Hu Shuang saw him arrive at the doorway, she stepped forward to lift the wheelchair over the threshold for him.
But Emperor Ji waved a hand, gave the armrest of the wheelchair a firm push with his palm, and the chair immediately moved as though with a life of its own, crossing the threshold on its own.
Inside the side hall, a figure in plain white stood by the window, gazing at the scene outside.
That white as snow dress made it utterly impossible to discern her age.
“So many years have passed and yet, unexpectedly, you look not a day changed from before.” Even without seeing her face, this presence and bearing were entirely different from what they had once been.
“Yet you have changed greatly.” The person standing by the window was none other than the woman who had been with Zhan Qingcheng earlier that noon — Madam Butterfly.
Though Emperor Ji had gone to Butterfly Valley earlier, he had not truly entered the inner valley and had therefore not seen her before now.
Once Madam Butterfly turned around, Emperor Ji could not help but feel a wave of emotion.
Nearly twenty years had passed, and the years had left very few traces on her face. If anything, she seemed to live with even more ease and serenity than before.
As for himself — these twenty years had truly aged him.
“Prince Ji, I had not expected you to look even older than I imagined.”
Madam Butterfly walked over to him, inclining her body slightly before him, her hand resting on his legs. “These legs — were they injured during that calamity of years past, by those people?”