In the blink of an eye, it was already the end of the year. Although this year could hardly be considered one of peaceful prosperity, on the surface, Zhen Huang City still presented an image of splendor and harmony. With half a month until the Spring Banquet, the city governor had already lifted the night curfew in the imperial city. Under the authorization of the Council of Elders, taxes for merchants during the New Year period were reduced or exempted to encourage trade and boost the imperial capital’s economy. An imperial edict was issued in the Emperor’s name, inviting officials from the outer provinces to come to the capital to pay homage, with lavish praise for those officials who had shown outstanding performance this year.
Thus, within three days, Zhen Huang City had regained its former glory. With the intentional indulgence of the officials, this year’s New Year celebrations were particularly extravagant, with wealthy households from various regions successively arriving in the capital. Within the ten-mile prosperity of Zhen Huang City, trees were wrapped in colored silk, and there was singing and dancing everywhere. Regardless of how chaotic the situation was outside or how urgent the border conflicts had become, the people of the imperial capital remained immersed in the magnificent dream of the celestial empire.
The piercing cold wind swept through the city, carrying a haze of indulgent revelry, and continued far northward.
However, the conflict between the northwestern border and Yan Bei had grown increasingly tense. Zhuge Yue slept later and later, often staying awake through the night. The candle tears dripped one by one, accumulating on the candlestick like layers of red ripples, reflecting his increasingly haggard face but still straight back, like an unwavering spear.
Three days ago, Chu Qiao finally saw Zhao Che again.
It had been snowing heavily that day, with four consecutive days of snow accumulating over two feet deep, nearly reaching the thigh when walking. Chu Qiao had been in poor health for years and couldn’t withstand the cold, so she lazily stayed indoors, spending her days drowsily in her room.
That evening, Zhuge Yue’s laughter carried from afar. She lay sideways on the soft couch, slightly furrowing her brow. As soon as she opened her eyes, she felt a rush of cool air hit her face. She shivered slightly, pulled the soft blanket around her, and sat up a little. Then she saw Zhuge Yue smiling as he lifted the curtain, saying to her, “Xing’er, look who’s here?”
After speaking, he led the person behind him into the bedroom.
Zhao Che walked in against the light, wearing a black robe without any embroidery or patterns, understated and somber. He still looked the same, seeming a bit taller and thinner. His facial features hadn’t changed much, but his eyes no longer held the arrogance and defiance of years past. They had become deep and cold, like a frigid pool or deep lake. Even when smiling, his smile contained a measure of distance and caution. He greeted her very calmly, still in his old manner, slightly nodding, then smiling faintly as he said, “Finally, we meet again.”
Dishes from the kitchen were served one after another. Zhao Che had brought Qiang barbarian wine from the northern regions, which was very spicy. As soon as it was opened, a strong aroma of alcohol filled the air.
He drank and laughed with Zhuge Yue, discussing in detail the recent warfare and situation, occasionally making jokes and mutually expressing disdain for each other.
Zhuge Yue had few friends, and in this world, perhaps aside from the person before him, there was no one else with whom he could speak so openly. Chu Qiao sat quietly to one side. As the alcohol flowed, she heard them talk about the past, about how they couldn’t stand each other in the Military Academy when they were young, and how they each thought highly of themselves after growing up. It wasn’t until war broke out, the court became corrupt, smoke and fire rose across the land, and the imperial power wavered, that they gradually came together.
They were alike in their noble birth and eminent status, with aspirations to swallow the sun and talents to manage the affairs of the world. Both were unbridled and passionate in their youth, yet neither was accepted by the country or society. Both were arrogant, extreme, stubborn, and willful, considered unorthodox and outcasts in the eyes of the clan. Both were born in splendor, fell in splendor, crawled out of the mud, and returned step by step to the center of power. However, though their hearts were as hard as iron, they still could not conceal their genuine passion. Men’s friendship, in many cases, needs no words to express.
Chu Qiao sat quietly to the side, rarely seeing Zhuge Yue so animated, and never before had she seen Zhao Che so unrestrained.
In a daze, she seemed to see two poplar trees that had weathered many storms, standing shoulder to shoulder, slowly growing into towering ancient trees.
In her mind, another shadow unconsciously emerged—those dark years of youth, those tumultuous and dangerous days. While Zhao Che and Zhuge Yue were navigating the sea of worldly affairs together, she too had once fought alongside someone, cutting through thorns and brambles, but ultimately, they couldn’t reach the same destination despite their different paths.
That night, Zhuge Yue got drunk. His alcohol tolerance had never been very good, but he had always been self-disciplined and knew his limits. Yet today, facing a reunited friend, he seemed to have let himself go.
Chu Qiao knew, however, that he was simply too exhausted. These days, there has been heavy snowfall in the northwestern region and poor harvests in the southwest. One-third of the empire’s territory was in misery. The grain and clothing dispatched from the imperial capital had been embezzled layer by layer by local officials and great clans, and could not reach the hands of the common people. Zhao Ying, the actual power holder in the western part of the empire, indulged his subordinates in open corruption and pandered to the great clans to win their support. Within half a month, more than two hundred thousand people in the west had died, and over a million people had fled the famine, traveling long distances southward, eastward, and some even toward the northwest. At the Yan Ming Pass, Tang Hu Pass, and Yao Pass, large numbers of starving refugees had gathered. Every day, hundreds, if not thousands, died from freezing or starvation. Yet the imperial capital preferred to spend vast amounts of money on refurbishing palaces and buildings and lavishly preparing for the Spring Banquet rather than sending troops and provisions to give the people a chance to survive.
Zhuge Yue had written more than ten memoranda, but except for a few powerless officials, no one in the court was willing to support him. His memorials were ignored, his remonstrances were shelved, and the court was filled with voices of submission and pleasure. The elders of the Council were like a group of decayed insects, their eyes only able to see a small area the size of a palm, allowing local officials to sing their praises while turning a blind eye to the actual disaster.
He said the local disaster was severe and more than two hundred thousand people in the west had died. They claimed that the Great Xia was peaceful and the people lived harmoniously, dismissing his statements as nonsense.
He said that tens of thousands of famine refugees had gathered at the three passes of Yan Ming, Tang Hu, and Yao, and if they were not guided, there would be a civilian uprising that would certainly lead to great disaster. They claimed that the three passes were as solid as gold, with vast fertile plains beyond, a completely open and stable area where residents did not lock their doors at night and no thieves or bandits could be found.
He said that the rise or fall of the Great Xia was imminent, that the Council of Elders was deceiving themselves and others, that the court was without virtue, and that local officials were embezzling without restraint, warning that if they were not punished, great chaos would arise. They responded by falsely accusing him of amassing troops and power, creating confusion in the court, and attempting to usurp authority and govern independently.
The verbal battles in the court were like a boiling pot of porridge, while common people were dying every day. They produced merit umbrellas and ten-thousand-word petitions contributed by local people, praising the Emperor’s kindness and benevolence, the court’s fairness and justice, and the Great Xia’s continuous blessings. Then they accused him of slandering the court without evidence.
Evidence?
She heard him cursing furiously at several generals in his study, his face ashen with anger, his eyes like rolling waves.
The masses of refugees outside the three passes they ignored, the countless corpses on the western land they disregarded, the heart-wrenching cries they turned a deaf ear to. Now, they held merit umbrellas presented by local parasites, deceiving themselves, and mockingly demanded evidence from him.
That night before going to bed, he remained silent for a long time, then said through gritted teeth in her ear that he truly wished he could cut down all those corrupt parasites one by one.
He spoke with such deep suppression that a chill slowly crept up Chu Qiao’s spine. She reached out to embrace his waist, lightly touching his arm, only to feel his muscles tensed, his fist clenched, his skin cold like the harsh frost on the ridge.
Yet Chu Qiao knew that he could only talk about it. Despite his momentary power, his high position, his military authority, and his estrangement from his family, there were certain matters, certain people, and certain responsibilities that he could not ignore.
The Xia Emperor, who had been spiritless earlier, had gradually improved in recent days. His mind was now clear, and occasionally he could attend court to handle state affairs.
For this emperor who had been on the throne for many years and kept his intentions hidden, no one dared to underestimate him in the slightest. For many years, he had always appeared to be indifferent to politics, but as soon as anyone dared to cross the line even slightly, they would face devastating consequences. The massacre of the Lion King by Yan Bei and his entire family fourteen years ago was a bloody example.
However, everyone was also thinking that the Emperor was ultimately getting old; he wasn’t immortal and wouldn’t live forever. Now that Zhao Che and Zhao Ying were competing for the throne, whoever could please the Emperor more, whoever acted more to the Emperor’s wishes, would have a better chance of winning. And now, the Emperor was more pleased with the merit umbrella, so who would want to bring up the southwestern disaster at this time and spoil the Emperor’s mood? Even Zhao Che had to consider his reputation in the eyes of the Western great clans.
At that time, Zhao Che was not in Zhen Huang, and Zhuge Yue was supporting everything alone, forcibly extracting money and provisions from the ministry of households, the granary, and various merchant households of great clans, sending them continuously to the outer regions of the three passes, but it was still like a drop in the bucket.
Once, during the distribution of food at Yao Pass, there was a small error. Because the food was scarce, the rice porridge was very thin. When a soldier said something harsh in response to the complaints of the civilians, it unexpectedly triggered a small-scale riot among the local refugees. The military and civilians clashed, resulting in the deaths of more than thirty soldiers and over fifty civilians, with nearly a hundred injured.
When Yue Qi came to report, Zhuge Yue was in his study, and Chu Qiao happened to be there as well. She never inquired about Zhuge Yue’s affairs, but when occasionally present, he never hid things from her. So she heard all the criticisms made by officials regarding this matter and heard the curses and complaints from the civilians outside Yao Pass against Zhuge Yue. Yue Qi reported everything exactly as it was, with a black face. Those people accused him of embezzling relief grain, called him a black-hearted, blood-sucking dog official, accused him of harming the people, and cursed him as a wolf-hearted, dog-lunged man who would surely be without descendants.
He just listened, without any expression on his face, and only indicated with his eyes that Yue Qi must not conceal anything when he was reluctant to continue.
After Yue Qi left, she did not dare to approach him. The afternoon sunlight was so cold, quietly spilling on his increasingly thin face. He sat in the chair, quietly drinking tea as if everything that had just happened had never occurred. But Chu Qiao saw water seeping from the base of the white jade teacup. Although he held it in his hand, a crack had spread across the cup wall.
Yes, they were dying, they were starving, natural disasters and human calamities had descended one after another, the common people had no way to survive, and yet the officials were still embezzling and collecting wealth. They should curse. However, they did not know that the court had already acquiesced to this matter, that no one would address the exploitation by local officials, and that all disaster reports had been forcibly suppressed. The answer from the Ministry of Secretariat was that all miscellaneous matters would have to wait until after the Spring Banquet to be presented.
And every bowl of porridge, every meal they now ate, came from the funds Zhuge Yue had raised by selling his properties in various places. Such a proud person even had to lower himself to curry favor with the merchants of the capital, asking them to join hands to help the people through this famine year.
He was too tired, too exhausted. That’s why he drank heavily, cursed the Emperor’s muddleheadedness and the court’s lack of virtue at the dinner table, cursed Zhao Ying as a fool, and threatened to cut off his head that very night.
He was truly drunk, completely intoxicated.
That night, Chu Qiao personally escorted the already half-drunk Zhao Che out of the mansion. However, as soon as they walked out the main gate, the Seventh Prince, who had been staggering moments before, immediately straightened his back, with no trace of drunkenness in his eyes, and very soberly said to her, “Go back and take good care of him.”
Chu Qiao looked at him, standing quietly, saying nothing.
Zhao Che’s expression was somewhat cold. They stood facing each other, vaguely reminiscent of many years ago. At that time, the Great Xia was strong and considered the foremost of the three kingdoms. He was the most favored prince, and she was the most eye-catching female instructor appointed by the Emperor. She stood under the pitch-black sky, facing the shouts of killing outside the military camp, indifferently saying to him, “If you step outside the camp today, you will certainly die.”
How strange life is—at that time, they harbored ill intentions toward each other, and guarded against each other’s schemes. How could they have anticipated that one day they would stand in the same trench, becoming comrades fighting side by side?
“The situation is already like this, and I am powerless. If we continue like this, it would be opposing the entire upper clan of the Great Xia, and we don’t have that strength yet,” Zhao Che said in a low tone, his face showing no ripples.
Chu Qiao no longer looked at him and turned to leave. Suddenly, Zhao Che called her name from behind. She turned around to see him very seriously saying to her, “Fourth Brother is a good man, don’t let him down.”
Chu Qiao’s eyes gradually narrowed to a line, with a few strands of light flashing past, like a sharp sword. She spoke softly, saying, “You too.”
She spoke so vaguely.
“You too,” what? You are also a good man?
No, Zhao Che understood very well what she was saying, but she didn’t wait for his answer and turned to leave, her figure thin, looking as if a gust of wind could blow her away.
He is a good man, don’t let him down either.
The sky was pitch black, filled with stars. The wind blew from afar, and he breathed deeply, even able to smell the scent of hunger coming from the west.
When Chu Qiao returned to the room, everything had been cleared away, and Zhuge Yue, who had originally collapsed on the couch, was nowhere to be seen. She went straight to the study, and sure enough, when she opened the door, she saw him sitting upright behind the desk, his eyes clear, bent over the desk, writing rapidly.
She stood silently for a long time, watching him finish writing and seal it with wax before slowly walking over, crouching in front of him, taking one of his hands, and then quietly resting on his knees, not saying a word.
The candle in the room burned silently, occasionally bursting into a spark with a crackling sound. The fragrance from the incense burner rose in wisps, forming a thin smoke. His hand was dry and slender, lightly brushing over her long hair.
“Xing’er.”
He called her name in a low voice, his voice filled with deep weariness and hardship. But he only called once, without saying anything more.
Her cheek pressed against his leg, her nostrils filled with his scent. Her voice was like gentle waves, quietly echoing in the room. She said softly, “I understand everything.”
His knee trembled slightly, and then he gripped her hand even tighter.
Yes, she understood everything. She understood his hardship, his exhaustion, his disappointment in this country, his profound disgust with everything around him.
The Emperor was in a daze, the princes were fighting for succession, the court officials were corrupt and incompetent, and all the imperial institutions were trending toward decay and paralysis. Having experienced the hardships of war, having witnessed firsthand the struggles of the common people, and having returned from the wild and remote regions, how could he bear to see the decay of this country and the ugly faces of its officials?
Yet ironically, he was still a part of this succession battle. Once, he had naively believed that after Zhao Che took power, everything would be overthrown. But now, before seizing everything, they had to endure such a bitter winter. He didn’t even know what would be left of this world after they stood upon piles of white bones and defeated all enemies.
Civilization destroyed, common people slaughtered, armies decimated, the nation overthrown—what remained might only be them, facing this land filled with smoke and wounds, with countless lives sacrificed for this campaign.
Political maneuvering, what is political maneuvering? After the struggle, would the price of destroying everything be one they could afford to pay?
“Xing’er, I’m not a good person.”
That night, at the moment dawn arrived, he said this softly.
The following five days were extremely dark days that shocked all of Great Xia and even all of Ximeng.
The refugees outside the three passes finally rebelled. They attacked the mansions of the western clan households, looting grain and money. Because of hunger, they begged; when begging failed, they stole; when stealing failed, they robbed; when robbing failed, they finally revolted.
When officials push people to revolt, people have no choice but to revolt.
Hundreds of thousands of unarmed civilians, armed with wood and stones, broke open the doors of wealthy households, lighting black beacons across the Longxi land. Countless people died in this chaos. The government troops in the Longxi region seemed like paper dolls, as fragile as wheat before the disaster victims. Although they repeatedly reported that the rebels had strong military power and were being commanded by experts who outmaneuvered them, no one believed them, treating these as excuses and sophistry.
The local officials and clans who had just presented the merit umbrella were shocked and submitted memorials one after another. However, how could the officials in the imperial capital slap their faces and report to the court at this time? They could only secretly dispatch troops to quell the local rebellion.
However, Zhuge Yue, the Grand Marshal of the Ministry of War, countered by asking, “The empire is peaceful everywhere. The people of the Longxi region have just contributed a merit umbrella. How could they treasonously rebel? It’s utterly ridiculous.”
Thus, the matter of sending troops was repeatedly postponed, and the conflict in Longxi became increasingly urgent. On the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth month, a rider on a swift horse galloped into the capital. The soldier on the horse was covered in blood, holding the report from Cao Changqing, the Governor of Longxi, and collapsed on the Ronghua Imperial Road, spitting blood.
Zhen Huang City was shocked. The Emperor was so angered that he immediately suffered from a headache, cursing the Secretariat and the officials, and stripping Zhao Ying of his title as Marquis of the Southwest on the spot. However, Zhao Che didn’t gain any advantage from this turmoil either. Instead, the seventeenth prince, Zhao Yi, who had kept a low profile, was given the military authority of the southwest and sent to quell the rebellion. As for Zhuge Yue, because he had not immediately sent troops to suppress the rebellion, he was punished by the Emperor to reflect on his actions at home. Zhao Che went to the palace several times to plead for him but was rebuffed by the Emperor.
However, Chu Qiao knew the origin of this turmoil. When Zhao Che came to the mansion and saw Zhuge Yue, he immediately became furious, cursing him as a madman. Zhuge Yue just laughed casually, putting his arm around Zhao Che’s shoulder, saying, “I wanted to leave you some capital for when you ascend the throne. If everyone dies, whom will you rule as Emperor?”
The civil unrest in the Longxi region resulted in countless casualties. Seventy to eighty percent of the wealthy clan households were destroyed, and nearly eighty thousand civilians died in the conflict. But as Zhuge Yue said, if they rebelled, eighty thousand would die; if they didn’t rebel, several million would die. This deal was indeed worthwhile.
Yes, it was worthwhile. The southwest clans were mostly destroyed, the power of the young master Mu of Lingnan was greatly damaged, Jing Han was also affected, and Zhao Ying was reprimanded by the Emperor and stripped of his military authority. Although Zhao Che gained no benefit, he had no fault either. Only Zhuge Yue was confined to his residence to reflect, temporarily withdrawing from the political stage of Great Xia.
Everything seemed to be proceeding step by step according to his predetermined plan. However, Chu Qiao clearly remembered how, during those days, whenever he heard the news of civilians being massacred somewhere, of respectable wealthy families being slaughtered, of garrisons being annihilated, of civilians turning into bandits and becoming ferocious, he would lie awake at night, consumed with worry. If there had been even a slight deviation from the plan that day, if the troops he secretly dispatched had not been able to restrain the rebels, if they had not successfully avoided the local garrison, if they had not been able to instigate the rebellion of some soldiers, then the result would have been a mixture of blood and mud, with the entire southwest plunging into endless warfare—the consequences unimaginable.
They were all right—he truly was a crazy person.
She worried that he would become disheartened and depressed after being stripped of his authority, but he consoled her that he could finally spend the New Year with her.
The Spring Banquet finally arrived. The once-powerful Ministry of War Marshal’s residence was now deserted, but inside was a rare scene of laughter and joy.
Although news of the southwestern conflict had reached the capital, it did not affect the liveliness and prosperity of the imperial capital on the day of the Spring Banquet. The streets were filled with noisy voices. The government had organized wealthy merchants to set off fireworks in Ziwei Square. The laughter of children penetrated the thick walls, carried by the gentle wind into this imposing and towering mansion.
Starting three days ago, Zhuge Yue had ordered a new round of decorations for the mansion. Red lanterns were hung high along the corridors and doorways. Window flowers were bright red, and the skilled maids had cut out various patterns, including the Longevity Star of the Eastern Sea, the Longevity Deer of West Ling, the Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea, the Guanyin Delivering a Son, and the extremely labor-intensive Thousand Blessings Picture. Pots of flowers were displayed everywhere, brilliant and colorful, with luxurious fragrances all around. The servants had all changed into new clothes, red and pink, with an air of jubilation.
Zhuge Yue had also resumed the lifestyle he had at Qingshan Academy many years ago. He had always been a disciplined person, without the habit of hunting with eagles and horses like other wealthy young men. Now that he had free time, his days were even more leisurely. He seriously took care of his health, reading books and planting flowers in his spare time. He was also forced by Chu Qiao to exercise every morning. The two practiced martial arts together, comparing skills with knives, spears, and staff, often attracting servants to watch secretly. After a while, seeing that Zhuge Yue did not react, the servants grew bolder, occasionally applauding and cheering when the practice reached exciting moments.
The days became increasingly peaceful and smooth, like the eye of a storm, so quiet that it made one anxious.
The New Year arrived quietly in such an atmosphere. She changed into new clothes, a bright red color that was dazzling, making her face glow like the morning sun of spring as if endless joy and hope were overflowing. Zhuge Yue stood behind her, wearing a smoky blue robe, strikingly handsome. He casually picked up a pearl and gold hairpin, skillfully arranging her full black hair and inserting it at the side of her temples.
Chu Qiao looked at herself in the mirror and suddenly felt somewhat dazed. She had never seen herself like this before. It seemed that from a very young age, she had always stubbornly thought that it was vulgar for women to wear red and green. Later, after years of wandering, she had lost the spirit for adornment and decoration. But wearing it today, she felt waves of warmth gradually enveloping her. Her cheeks were as beautiful as spring peaches, like autumn water, and even her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth couldn’t hide her joy and warmth.
So-called vulgarity was merely because she didn’t have that kind of mood at that time.
Mei Xiang stood to the side, smiling as she looked at her, her face full of joy. Zhuge Yue lazily walked forward, smiled at the mirror, and said, “Truly a beauty that could topple a nation.”
Chu Qiao pushed him away embarrassedly, her ears turning red, saying, “It’s not that exaggerated, don’t talk nonsense.”
Zhuge Yue smiled as he looked at her and said, “I was talking about myself. You’re overthinking it.”
Chu Qiao was furious and reached out to pinch him. Zhuge Yue dodged and said to Mei Xiang, “Look at your mistress. She gets angry when I don’t compliment her.”
Mei Xiang just smiled without responding. The sunlight outside was very warm, and in the far distance, the crackling sound of firecrackers had already begun.
This was the most comfortable New Year that Chu Qiao had spent in many years. She even went to the kitchen herself to teach the servants how to make dumplings. She wanted to pull Zhuge Yue in to join, but the man with severe male chauvinism looked down on her and walked away gracefully.
They ate New Year’s Eve dinner, set off firecrackers, and hung lanterns. Zhuge Yue got a dumpling with a red date inside, and the servants all came to congratulate him on his good fortune in the New Year. He was in a great mood and rewarded them generously, filling the mansion with excited voices of gratitude. The gates of the Zhuge mansion were closed tight, with all visitors turned away. Only at midnight did Zhao Che send two jars of good wine. Chu Qiao and Zhuge Yue drank together until Chu Qiao felt dizzy and drunkenly fell into Zhuge Yue’s arms.
The servants outside set off firecrackers, with crackling sounds coming in, full of joy. In her hazy state, Chu Qiao seemed to see Li Ce’s eyes smiling like a fox. She reached out to touch them but grasped nothing.
She was truly drunk, but her mind was so clear. In her daze, she thought of her years, thought of Xiao Shi, thought of Mao Er, thought of Min Rui, thought of Li Yang, thought of her colleagues at the Military Intelligence Department, thought of her white-haired grandfather, thought of the hardships and struggles of these years, thought of the several times she had lingered between life and death in distress and crisis, thought of Mr. Wu, thought of Miss Yu, thought of Jing Zisu, thought of so many people who had died or were still alive, and also thought of Li Ce, thought of Yan Xun…
Happiness came so quickly that she felt insecure as if everything was a dream.
She buried her face in Zhuge Yue’s embrace, her nose filled with the pleasant fragrance of iris on him. Her eyes were slightly wet. She raised her head, looked at his handsome profile, and suddenly said with bright eyes, “Zhuge Yue, I love you.”
Zhuge Yue was stunned. He lowered his head. Servants were all around, and her voice was so loud that it even drowned out the crackling of firecrackers. Everyone turned to look at her in astonishment, but she didn’t care at all and just said loudly, “Zhuge Yue, I have fallen in love with you!”
A warm breeze passed through the hall, and someone was chuckling softly. The playful sounds of Jing Jing and Mo Er came from afar. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes seemed to be filled with water, her gaze direct. In just over half a year, she seemed to have returned to the radiant beauty of seventeen or eighteen years old. She looked at him directly, smiling, her face almost visibly inscribed with the two words “happiness.”
With a whoosh, there was a gust of wind by her ear, and suddenly she was lifted into the air by someone. Then, to everyone’s amazement, Zhuge Yue left the table where they had barely started eating and returned to the bedroom.
The brocade quilt on the bed was brand new, all in auspicious bright red, embroidered with layers of brocade, featuring mandarin ducks playing in water, the cowherd and the weaver girl, magpies building bridges, and Guanyin delivering a son. Everywhere there was a warm sweetness.
His eyes were black, revealing a burning desire. He pulled open his collar with one hand, staring at her intently, saying in a hoarse voice, “Little temptress, I’m never letting you drink again.”
With that, he lowered his head and kissed her lips fiercely. His breathing was rapid and hot, like a blazing flame, bringing a numbing softness wherever it touched.
She smiled at the corners of her eyes, hugged his waist, and responded passionately.
The silk curtains hung low, brocade filled the room, and the long night was clamorous. Outside, there was another burst of joyful laughter.
Life has too many unpredictable variables. You don’t know when the storm will come, how big the waves will be, or whether they will easily overturn everything you currently possess. Those feelings that had been suppressed for so long, those words that had been hidden for so many years, those emotions that had always been held back, finally found an outlet. Everything is unpredictable; all one can do is cherish what one has at present.
The brocade covered them, the curtains flew, and she lay amidst layers of luxury, clinging to his body. Fine sweat emerged, and both mind and body were satisfied and tired. She curled up in his embrace, looking over his shoulder toward the window. Through a layer of window paper, she could vaguely see brilliant fireworks in the distant sky, rampaging across the entire horizon.
Whatever the future might hold, she would no longer be afraid.