◎Moon Above, Lamp Upon the Sea◎

When Xie Heng understood Li Guiyu’s meaning, his expression remained unchanged. Ji Ruifang stared into his eyes, seeing the emotions he desperately suppressed, and laughed lightly: “How does it feel to choose?”

“You’re quite pleased.”

Xie Heng spoke calmly. Ji Ruifang laughed: “How could I not be pleased? I know you had your reasons, so I can let bygones be bygones regarding your betrayal of the Cui family back then. But what about Minran?”

As Ji Ruifang spoke, tears appeared in her eyes: “He died right in my arms. When he died, here,” Ji Ruifang raised her hand to her chest, “the pain was unbearable, yet you and your little lover can be lovey-dovey? Why?”

“Do you love him? Or do you love my uncle?”

Xie Heng asked directly. Ji Ruifang was stunned.

“Think clearly.” Xie Heng looked at her, his words sharp as a blade: “Do you think we know why we had to kill him? Because it was he who guarded Heyu Pass back then, intercepting and assassinating my uncle on his return to the Eastern Capital.”

Hearing this, Ji Ruifang showed shock. Xie Heng continued: “It was also he, together with the Wang and Zheng families, who shot and killed thirty thousand fleeing civilians at Heyu Pass, treating them as prisoners of war to claim merit. Do you think those five hundred people we killed on Liufeng Island were just anyone?”

Xie Heng looked at Ji Ruifang’s struggling, shocked expression and said calmly: “Those were the very five hundred who dressed the civilians in enemy uniforms. And you were protecting exactly such a person.”

“Impossible…”

Ji Ruifang murmured: “Minran would never do such things.”

“Ji Ruifang, do you remember that one New Year when uncle and aunt invited you to spend the New Year at the Cui residence?” Xie Heng sipped his tea and spoke calmly.

Ji Ruifang’s eyes trembled slightly. She remembered that year—it was when the Kunlun Palace had undergone upheaval, and all the people she knew had died. After things settled, she remained in Kunlun Palace, where every blade of grass and tree reminded her of old friends. It was too painful, so she traveled to the Central Plains.

The Central Plains were usually lively, but on New Year’s Day alone, every household closed their doors tight and the streets were empty.

She had nowhere to go, so she sat alone on a rooftop drinking wine. Then Cui Qingping came with his wife to find her, calling out: “Miss Ji, why don’t you spend New Year with us?”

That was the first time she experienced such a lively festival.

Perhaps because of this, she developed so many romantic notions. She wanted to stay with the Cui family, wanted to stay by Cui Qingping’s side. She watched this mature, handsome, powerful, nearly perfect man from the candlelight, watched his family, and couldn’t help herself—she wanted to stay forever in that night of bright lights where someone set off fireworks for her.

Xie Heng saw the emotion in her eyes and said calmly: “Originally everyone disagreed with having you come. Your reputation in the Eastern Capital wasn’t good then, but uncle said you had a fierce face but kind heart, that you were just a little girl with nowhere to go. Aunt felt sorry for you when she heard this, so she went with uncle to bring you home.”

Listening to this, Ji Ruifang’s eyes reddened.

“I know you wanted to save them, and I’m grateful. But I don’t think killing Xie Minran was wrong. So I ask you one last time—” Xie Heng stared into Ji Ruifang’s eyes, “Everything you said earlier, is it all true?”

Ji Ruifang understood Xie Heng’s intention in saying these things. She forced out a difficult smile: “You want to trick me, use these words to see if I’m lying to you.”

Xie Heng remained silent, only quietly watching Ji Ruifang.

Under his overly frank gaze, Ji Ruifang’s breathing became rapid. She struggled to stand, saying only: “I’m not like you… I don’t lie.”

With that, she fled outside in panic: “You’re lying to me… you’re lying…”

“Perhaps I’ve told many lies,” Xie Heng lifted his teacup and spoke calmly, “but what I said today is true.”

Ji Ruifang’s steps stopped. She found it hard to deceive herself—she remembered when she was rescuing people in the Eastern Capital, Xie Minran indeed wasn’t there.

Before he left, he had specifically sought her out, his clear, gentle eyes filled with her image, asking: “Sister, if there were no Cui Qingping in this world, would you see me?”

At that time she had been rejected by Cui Qingping and was heartbroken, thinking he was only speaking hypothetically, so she casually replied: “Perhaps.”

Xie Minran smiled lightly. He took her hand and gently bent down to kiss the back of it.

This was a foreign custom she had told him about, from a place even more distant than Persia.

“Sister, I’m leaving.”

He turned and left, saying he was going to lay low.

When she saw him again, he had sent word asking for rescue, saying he was trapped on Liufeng Island by Xie Minran.

By then, the Cui family was dead, everything was over, and she was disheartened, so she came to accompany him.

Everyone was gone.

Ji Ruifang suddenly realized that everyone important in her life—Kunlun Palace, Cui Qingping, Xie Minran—seemed to have all left.

“Do you love him, or do you love my uncle?”

“Ji Ruifang,” she remembered Cui Minran’s final moment before death. He gripped her tightly, eyes full of tears, asking only: “No one in this world loves Xie Minran—what about you?”

“Do you love me or not? Between Cui Qingping and me, who do you love?”

Who did she love?

She thought she had loved only Cui Qingping in this lifetime, yet at this moment, she suddenly realized that hearing news of him intercepting and killing Cui Qingping, she seemed to feel no hatred.

She only felt pain.

She only thought: Xie Minran—even unto death, he never felt that anyone loved him.

His parents and clan loved Xie Minsheng. The only one who could see him, Ji Ruifang—he thought she loved Cui Qingping.

Thinking of how, when he died, what he saw was this cold, indifferent world, she felt pain.

She walked out step by step. No one stopped her.

She walked out of the military camp, into the dense forest, entering the heavy shadows under moonlight, and after that, no one ever saw her again.

The woman who had arrived as stunning as a Dunhuang dance, amazing all of Great Xia, finally disappeared forever from human sight on this quiet April night under the moon.

Regarding her departure, Xie Heng had no intention to interfere further.

He only lowered his eyes to look at the cold tea on the table. After calmly drinking a sip, he heard Qingya ask: “Young Master, Ji Ruifang has left. Should we stop her?”

“Let her go.”

Xie Heng set down the teacup. He supported himself as he stood up, perhaps from sitting too long; he felt somewhat exhausted, stumbling and nearly falling. Qingya quickly stepped forward to steady Xie Heng, saying gently: “What’s wrong, Young Master?”

Supported by him, Xie Heng came back to his senses slightly: “I was thinking about things and got dizzy for a moment.”

“Young Master, you should let Qianqiu examine you,” Qingya steadied Xie Heng, then released him and stepped back, saying gently, “Only if Young Master lives a long life can great endeavors be achieved.”

Hearing this, Xie Heng looked up at him. Qingya noticed Xie Heng’s gaze fixed on him and asked in confusion: “Young Master?”

“Qingya,” Xie Heng stared at Qingya and suddenly smiled, “Have you ever thought about regicide?”

Hearing this, Qingya slowly raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as a blade.

“What did Ji Ruifang just say to Young Master?”

“Nothing much.”

Xie Heng turned around, walking toward his tent, saying lightly: “Just joking with you, no need to be nervous.”

“Young Master,” Qingya stood behind him, calmly calling out. Xie Heng turned to look, and saw Qingya say with a calm expression: “If the great cause requires it, I can do anything.”

Xie Heng looked at the person standing in the night. He gazed at Xie Heng and said coldly: “After I kill someone, Your Highness, the Crown Prince, can have me executed to clear any connection. As long as the Great Xia Legal Code can be implemented, my death would be insignificant.”

Xie Heng’s eyes moved slightly. Looking at the young man in azure, he couldn’t help saying: “You are a life.”

“Before the great cause, what harm is there in one mere life?”

“What if it were me, or someone else?” Xie Heng continued probing.

Qingya didn’t speak. Like a lonely soul in the night, he quietly watched Xie Heng.

In an instant, Xie Heng knew the answer.

“Young Master,” Qingya’s voice was gentle but carried an almost obsessive stubbornness, “Please remember why we are here.”

Xie Heng remained silent. The two stared at each other for a long time before Qingya bowed: “It’s late. This subordinate will withdraw first.”

With that, Qingya turned and left.

Xie Heng stood before his tent for a long while, chuckled softly, then turned and entered his tent.

As soon as he returned, Luo Wanqing was awakened by the sound. She opened her eyes sharply, looking alertly toward the entrance. Seeing Xie Heng, she gradually calmed down.

Her heart was beating somewhat fast. Xie Heng stood at the entrance without moving. He looked at the person sitting in the room—the lamplight was warm, seeming to create a halo around her. He suddenly felt that light was so dazzling it made him afraid to approach.

Seeing him motionless, Luo Wanqing couldn’t help feeling puzzled: “Young Master?”

She looked at Xie Heng’s expression and intuitively sensed something was wrong. She simply got off the bed and walked to Xie Heng’s side. She took his hand, feeling the coolness he had brought from outside, observing his expression as she carefully asked: “What’s wrong?”

Xie Heng didn’t speak, only silently pulled her into his embrace.

Luo Wanqing was startled and uncertain, allowing him to hold her tight. At first it was just a simple embrace, then he gradually tightened his arms, as if using all his strength to try to meld her into his own body, his own bones and blood.

“Xiniang…”

He spoke hoarsely. Luo Wanqing gently stroked his back: “I’m here.”

“Xiniang…”

Xie Heng closed his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but holding this person, he felt like soaking in warm water. He gradually relaxed, melting his sharp edges, silently allowing her to hold him as he slowly calmed down.

Luo Wanqing sensed the wind and snow atmosphere around him gradually dissipating, then slowly reached out her hand. She gently patted his back, saying warmly, “Come inside first and take a hot bath.”

Xie Heng hummed in agreement. Suddenly, he didn’t want to think about anything. He let Luo Wanqing lead him to sit in the room, listening as she called for water.

The servants quickly prepared hot water. Luo Wanqing led him into the room, helping him untie his belt while smiling: “Whatever it is, take a bath first before thinking about it.”

Xie Heng didn’t speak. When Luo Wanqing turned to leave, Xie Heng grabbed her hand.

Luo Wanqing looked back. Xie Heng gazed at her and said, “Stay with me.”

Luo Wanqing paused, then smiled: “Alright, I’ll get you a cloth.”

She went to fetch clean clothes and a cloth. When she returned, she saw Xie Heng sitting in the bathtub.

Seeing her return, he looked up at her, his gaze locked on her and never moving.

Luo Wanqing set down the clothes and walked to his side, sitting on the steps beside the bathtub, using a gourd dipper to pour water for him.

The warm water fell on his skin. He kept watching her. Luo Wanqing didn’t ask anything, only said softly: “When I was little, whenever I got angry, my mother would make me take a hot bath first. After soaking and coming out, I would forget many unhappy things.”

As Luo Wanqing spoke, she smiled, reminiscing: “When I was small, I thought when I grew up, I’d buy a house with hot springs where I could bathe every day. I’d put nourishing herbs and calming herbs in the spring water—I thought it would be very comfortable.”

“Did you have many unhappy moments as a child?”

Xie Heng asked curiously. Luo Wanqing laughed: “Of course! Sometimes it was because I couldn’t memorize medicine formulas and got angry at myself. Sometimes, because my father came home late, I’d be angry at him. Sometimes brother would steal food I liked, sometimes I’d fight with friends…”

Thinking of childhood, Luo Wanqing’s eyes held nostalgia: “Every day had many things to be angry about, and many things to be happy about too. What about you?” She looked up at Xie Heng: “When you got angry, what would you do?”

“Whoever made me angry, I’d cause them trouble.”

Thinking of the past, Xie Heng couldn’t help showing some amusement: “So I rarely got angry—most problems got resolved.”

“What about the ones that couldn’t be resolved?”

Luo Wanqing was curious. Xie Heng was silent for a long while before saying hoarsely, “Find my mother.”

Luo Wanqing heard the abnormality in his voice and looked up to see him staring vacantly into the distance, saying calmly: “I would go to her courtyard and say nothing. Mother would know I was angry and would give me ideas or cheer me up. She said there was nothing in the world that couldn’t be solved, only a matter of having heart or not.”

“So,” Luo Wanqing tentatively asked, “tonight… did Young Master encounter something that couldn’t be resolved?”

Xie Heng looked up at Luo Wanqing.

Luo Wanqing waited for Xie Heng to speak. After a long time, Xie Heng finally said, “Ji Ruifang came. She told me… my mother died because of me.”

Luo Wanqing paused, couldn’t help saying: “How could that be…”

“It was because I entered the palace. To protect me, my mother chose to end her own life.” Xie Heng smiled: “If I hadn’t gone, it would have been better.”

“If you hadn’t gone, could your mother have survived?”

Luo Wanqing wondered: “The three grandmasters were in the palace. If you hadn’t restrained them, they would have troubled your mother. Could she have escaped?”

Xie Heng fell silent. Luo Wanqing smiled: “Ji Ruifang is just trying to hurt you with words to avenge Xie Minran. At that time, your mother couldn’t escape—you needn’t blame yourself. Think about it: you’re the person your mother was willing to protect with her life. She wouldn’t want to see you unhappy because of her.”

Hearing Luo Wanqing’s words, Xie Heng’s eyes moved slightly. He wanted to say something, but ultimately didn’t speak.

“What is it?” Luo Wanqing asked strangely.

“You’re good at comforting others,” Xie Heng smiled, “but can you do it yourself?”

“I can’t, but I have to try.” Luo Wanqing poured hot water for Xie Heng. Water flowed down from his neck as she spoke more gently: “Besides, I’m here.”

She looked up at Xie Heng seriously: “Xie Lingshu, I’m here.”

Hearing her words, looking at the person in the halo of light, for a moment Luo Wanqing felt he seemed about to kiss her. However, he didn’t move, only gazed at her tenderly and suddenly changed the subject: “When I came back just now, it seemed you had a nightmare?”

“Oh,” reminded by his question, Luo Wanqing thought of tonight’s nightmare and nodded: “I did have a nightmare.”

“What did you dream about?”

“I dreamed again that I was standing before the notice announcing your death,” Luo Wanqing recalled the dream, “I was reading your charges, always feeling like there was something very important I couldn’t see clearly. In the dream, I was very panicked, wanting to see clearly, but just couldn’t. But after waking up, I felt it wasn’t anything.”

“How so?”

“Anyway… everything has already changed.”

As Luo Wanqing spoke, she unconsciously gripped his hand, saying lightly: “Your charges were numerous to begin with—what does it matter if I can’t see a few? As long as fate has turned around, what happens after doesn’t matter. Now I’m acting on His Majesty’s orders, the people of Si Province are settled, and your reputation among everyone is so good—what reason would there be to kill you?”

“Then why are you gripping my hand while saying this?” Xie Heng asked with unusual sharpness. Just as Luo Wanqing was about to protest, she heard him say: “You’re afraid.”

He said it with certainty. Luo Wanqing’s movements froze. After a long while, she realized that facing Xie Heng, she had nothing to hide.

How could she possibly hide anything from him?

After thinking, she finally said: “I am indeed afraid. Young Master, I’m afraid that after going around in circles,” she looked up at him uneasily, “I’ll end up like Jiuran, reaching the same destination by different paths.”

Hearing this, Xie Heng smiled lightly.

He thought for a moment, then gently gripped Luo Wanqing’s hand in return. He opened her loosely clenched fist, his water-dampened fingers tracing along the lines in her palm.

“Director Luo, no road in life is walked in vain.”

The tingling sensation spread from her palm. Xie Heng looked at the lines in her palm as if calculating her fate, saying gently: “Where there is gain, there is loss—no need to fear. Anyway, life’s long road is walked in solitary shadow. The people you meet are just there to accompany you forward for a while. Zhang Jiuran was one, Jiang Shaoyan was one,” Xie Heng looked up at her, “and so am I.”

“You’re not.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing immediately denied it.

She gripped Xie Heng’s hand, staring at him insistently: “You’re not my passing traveler.”

“Then what am I?”

Luo Wanqing didn’t respond immediately. She looked at the person before her. After a long while, she finally spoke.

“You are my moon above and lamp upon the sea, Xie Heng,” Luo Wanqing curled her fingers, gripping his hand tightly, “Without you, life’s long journey would be endless night.”

Life’s long journey would be an endless night.

Xie Heng gazed at her. In an instant, he suddenly thought of the days before meeting her.

Recalling those times, he was startled to realize that when he remembered them, those days seemed to have no color at all.

Killing and being killed—everything was calm as still water.

Until he met her.

She brought him the most primitive desires, making his blood boil with vibrant life.

She was the moon above, snow on earth, lamp upon the sea.

She was the convergence of all colors and beauty after his eighteenth year.

Looking at such a beautiful person before him, after a long while, he laughed softly.

Luo Wanqing was somewhat puzzled, but before she could speak, he suddenly pulled hard, yanking Luo Wanqing into the pool.

Water splashed up. When the water splashed into Luo Wanqing’s eyes, she closed them briefly, then felt herself pressed against the bath’s wall.

Water rippled outward as Xie Heng smiled and lowered his head.

“Then let this moon above and lamp upon the sea give Director Luo earthly bliss, illuminating splendid mountains and rivers.”

That night, Xie Heng abandoned his usual gentleness, somewhat unrestrained.

He was like fire, burning brilliantly through her life, letting her experience gorgeous and ultimate pleasure.

When everything ended, it was already dawn. The bedsheets were in complete disarray, and he still clung to her, pressed against her back.

Luo Wanqing felt it was a bit too much, saying hoarsely: “We’re about to depart, stop fooling around.”

“I won’t be going with you.”

Xie Heng gently kissed her, holding her tight, burying his head in her shoulder and neck, saying reluctantly: “There’s a small problem with grain transport. I’ll stay to handle it and also properly settle Si Province.”

“Alright then…”

Hearing Xie Heng wouldn’t go with her, Luo Wanqing was somewhat disappointed. In an instant, she also understood the reason for his excessive behavior, saying helplessly, “Then I’ll go by myself.”

“Mm.” Xie Heng gently combed through her hair, instructing: “Zhusi will follow you for convenient communication. I’ll send Qingya with you—he was once the intelligence chief among the Cui family’s hidden operatives. Listen more to his and Zhou Shan’s advice in all matters, and don’t be rash yourself. A director’s importance lies in employing people—you needn’t handle everything personally. Look at the long term. To climb high peaks, one must make choices along the way.”

“Mm…” Being stroked by him, Luo Wanqing felt somewhat drowsy. She said with some dissatisfaction: “I’m just putting on a show for you—how many days can this director position last? Rather than saying this, say something nice to hear.”

“What nice things?”

Xie Heng intimately kissed her cheek: “Wife is my heart and liver—like that?”

“Only you could say such things.”

Luo Wanqing closed her eyes and smiled lightly, then pursed her lips: “My birthday is on the fifth of the fifth month.” Her fingers nervously drew small circles on the bedsheet. “When the time comes, I’ll find a chance to return. Will you spend it with me?”

Xie Heng paused. Luo Wanqing sensed his hesitation and turned back: “What’s wrong?”

“Battlefields change in an instant,” Xie Heng came back to his senses, turning her to face him, supporting himself above her as he looked down: “I fear there might be unexpected situations and dare not promise.”

“It’s fine, just do your best.”

Luo Wanqing raised her hand to encircle his neck, looking at the youth handsome as a painting in the morning light, saying softly: “I want to spend every birthday with you.”

Xie Heng smiled without answering, only kissing her again before she could ask her next question.

For a moment, she forgot what she wanted to say.

She only embraced him in the confusion.

After the final time ended, Luo Wanqing finally found peace. Xie Heng covered her with a quilt, drew the curtains, letting her sleep peacefully in the room.

He arranged everything. When Luo Wanqing woke up, she saw a scout riding urgently into the military camp seeking aid.

Luo Wanqing understood this was someone Xie Heng had arranged. She feigned shock, then immediately reported to the court that the northern Rong were invading the border. That afternoon, she mustered troops and headed straight for the frontier.

Before leaving, Xie Heng saw her off. He wore a dark robe with gold thread, his hair bound with a golden crown. Looking up at her on horseback, he suddenly had a whim: “Before leaving, won’t you say something nice to me?”

“What do you want to hear?”

Luo Wanqing raised an eyebrow. Xie Heng beckoned, and Luo Wanqing bent down to him, hearing him ask with a smile: “Does my wife love me?”

Luo Wanqing rarely heard him speak so directly. She didn’t know why, but saying the word “love” made her feel more shy than all his usual bedroom talk.

She dared not answer, only saying: “Why say such things now?”

“This humble one has given his life to Xiniang, yet Xiniang is stingy with even a single word,” Xie Heng sighed, then leaned to her ear, saying softly: “If you won’t say it, then I will.”

“I love only Xiniang,” he said, looking up at Luo Wanqing, his playfulness mixed with some seriousness, “more than my own life.”

Luo Wanqing felt somewhat embarrassed. She turned her face away, feigning composure: “I understand.”

“Go then.”

Xie Heng finally stepped back, smiling: “Go see the vast desert and wilderness, Xiniang.”

Luo Wanqing nodded. As she prepared to leave, she couldn’t help turning back: “Young Master.”

Xie Heng looked at her questioningly. Luo Wanqing hesitated: “On my birthday, I’ll come back to tell you.”

Xie Heng was startled. Luo Wanqing turned her head away, too embarrassed to linger, saying stiffly: “I’m leaving.”

With that, she spurred her horse forward, then led the army racing away.

Lianqing stood on her shoulder, and Zhusi soared following her departure.

Xie Heng watched the figure galloping into the distance for a long time before slowly beginning to smile.

He turned around, leading Zhuque: “Let’s go back.”

He returned to the city with Zhuque, seeming to remember something: “Have the torn book pages that Xiniang brought out from Fengyu Pavilion’s Dark Pavilion been properly repaired?”

“Oh, they were almost finished when I left.” Zhuque thought: “They should be completely repaired by now.”

“Have Xuanshan send them to me.”

Xie Heng said.

“Will do.”

Zhuque agreed, then asked somewhat strangely: “Young Master, why didn’t you have me follow Madam this time?”

Usually it was always him following Luo Wanqing and Qingya following Xie Heng. This time Xie Heng had sent Qingya away instead.

“Your martial arts are superior, Qingya excels in strategy. With him accompanying Xiniang, I feel more at ease.” Xie Heng’s tone was flat as he returned with Zhuque to the residence the Zheng family had prepared for him.

He had Zhuque guard the entrance while Xie Heng walked alone into the study the Zheng family had prepared, sitting at the desk.

On the desk were paper, brushes, and an exquisite dagger for opening letters.

Xie Heng took the dagger, quietly cutting out a piece of paper suitable for carrier pigeon communication.

Then he played with the dagger between his fingers, silently looking at the white paper. After watching for a long while, he chuckled softly, flicked the dagger to embed it in the desk, and took up a fine brush.

He dipped the brush in ink, lowered his head, and wrote: “Have found the underground palace at Bailu Mountain. Requires the Yin Master’s token to open. Will Your Majesty personally come to investigate?”

After writing, he tied the note to a carrier pigeon and released it with a wave.

“Go.”

Author’s Note:

[Mini Theater]

Xie Heng: “Qingya, let’s knife the emperor.”

Qingya: “??? What madness has gotten into you?”

Xie Heng: “Just joking.”

(Half a month later)

Qingya returning home: “…Young Master, what madness has gotten into you?”

Xie Heng (smiling): “I forgot to tell you—I’m someone who never jokes.”