Candlelight flickered, red tears dripping.
The third watch drum had already sounded, yet Yan Xun still hadn’t returned. The little maid carefully pushed open the door carrying a fire basin. Inside, a single small lamp burned. The woman’s figure was thin and slender, still bent over her desk. Hearing the sound, she didn’t look up, her brows slightly furrowed as if deep in thought.
“Miss,” the little maid’s face showed pity. Though only twelve or thirteen years old, she vaguely understood something. She carefully addressed her usually stern and taciturn mistress in a soft voice: “It’s late, you should get some rest.”
Chu Qiao didn’t speak, only slightly raising her hand to signal for the maid to leave.
Green Willow carried the replaced fire basin to the door, suddenly turning back to say: “If the Young Master returns, I’ll come to notify you.”
The slender woman slowly raised her head, her eyes glancing up, looking coolly at Green Willow, and said in a low voice: “Are you very idle?”
The little maid was startled, immediately dropping to her knees, hastily saying: “This servant has overstepped. Please punish me, Miss.”
“Go.”
The clear voice suddenly rang out. The young woman said nothing more, just lowered her head to continue reading the letters in her hand. Green Willow left with her head bowed, trembling. After the door closed, the room immediately fell silent.
The candle burned gently, occasionally sputtering a spark. The candlelight stretched the young woman’s shadow long and thin, its outline blurred in the dimness.
There were no unusual actions, just normal busyness, and normal thinking. Even her tone of voice hadn’t changed in the slightest. Only on those sheets of white paper, the ink was deep, penetrating to the back of the page.
The winter night stretched long. At the fifth watch, the sound of the front gate opening came. The writing brush paused instantly. Chu Qiao listened carefully for a moment, then stood up and lit all the lamps in the room.
The light suddenly blazed, visible even from a distance. Chu Qiao stood by the window, lifting one corner of the sash. The night wind blew in through the window frame, lifting her black hair. The young woman’s gaze was calm as she remained silent.
She was waiting for a result. With just one glance, he would know she hadn’t slept, know she had been waiting for him. If he came over, it meant there was still room for the situation to change. If not, it meant he had made up his mind and wouldn’t change it.
Time slowly passed. The lights in the front courtyard never moved. The man wore a silver fox fur cloak, his hood half covering his face, his blue robe falling freely. A-Jing stood behind him, holding a green bamboo umbrella over his head. White snow fell abundantly, scattering onto the umbrella top. A gentle breeze blew from afar, lifting the accumulated snow from the ground, spinning it in corners, forming small eddies that swept over his white boots and the hem of his cloak.
“Young Master,” Little Li bowed and stepped forward, following Yan Xun’s gaze toward the end of the corridor where, beyond the shelter of plum trees and rockery, bright lights shone in the distance.
“Miss probably hasn’t slept yet.”
Yan Xun seemed not to hear, just standing quietly. He knew that beyond those many rooms, before the green bamboo window curtains, there would certainly be a figure standing silently. Between them lay three corridors, two vermillion gates, one clear spring, and a garden full of plum branches. To walk over would take just the blink of an eye.
Yet a heavy sense of powerlessness gradually rose in his heart. Why did this seemingly short path appear so distant?
His gaze was calm, tranquil as water. He didn’t speak, just quietly looked on. His gaze penetrated through these seven years of time, through the joys and sorrows of the passing years. Past events flew by like illusions and dreams—shared hardships, intertwined fortune and misfortune.
A sudden strong wind blew up, lifting the bamboo umbrella from A-Jing’s hand and carrying it away. The young guard was startled and turned to chase it. Snow fell abundantly on Yan Xun’s shoulders. Despite wearing a thick fur cloak, he still felt intensely cold.
“Let’s go.”
A brief word emerged from the man’s lips. Little Li was delighted and immediately led the way, walking and saying: “Miss surely hasn’t slept yet, Young Master…”
Before he could finish, he saw Yan Xun and A-Jing heading in the opposite direction. Little Li was momentarily stunned, holding his lantern with his mouth open, suddenly at a loss, not knowing where to go.
With a soft “puff,” Chu Qiao gently lowered the window, slowly removed her outer robe, wearing only a thin garment, and walked to the corner lanterns to extinguish them one by one. Her movements were slow, her expression calm.
Finally, with a light sound, the candle on the desk was also blown out, and the room immediately fell into a confused darkness.
Feeling her way to the bed, she pulled back the covers and lay down. The wind was quiet, extraordinarily still. In the darkness, the young woman’s eyes were wide open. The cold moon poured its clear light over the ground. In the haziness, her cold eyes held no tears, but something indescribable gradually sank, layer upon layer, like fine sand and waves.
Early the next morning, Chu Qiao came to the front courtyard for breakfast as usual. Today the Oriole Song Court was unusually quiet, as if everyone was carefully restraining themselves from making noise. Chu Qiao and Yan Xun sat opposite each other, still eating as they did every day, occasionally looking up to exchange idle conversation.
The masters showed no abnormality, as calm as if nothing had happened. A-Jing, Green Willow, and the other servants looked on in confusion, ultimately sighing helplessly: perhaps they had misunderstood after all.
After breakfast, everything returned to normal. Everyone attended to their duties, their expressions even showing some happiness.
After all, from now on in this vast imperial palace, Oriole Song Court would no longer have to act according to others’ wishes.
At noon, Yan Xun opened the door to the flower room, seeing Chu Qiao quietly leaning against the flower rack railing, looking as if she had been waiting for a long time.
“My blood orchid!” Yan Xun cried out in distress, hurrying forward. Chu Qiao was startled and turned around, only to see Yan Xun behind her holding an orchid with a broken stem, his face distressed as he called out: “My blood orchid!”
“I didn’t do it.”
The young woman immediately raised both hands to absolve herself: “I wasn’t leaning on that.”
“Didn’t you see the silk cord between the flower racks?”
Chu Qiao was startled, looked carefully, and found it was indeed so. She shrugged: “Even if it was me, I can just get you another pot.”
Yan Xun shook his head, placed the flower pot aside, sat down in a chair, and said seriously: “What do you think of this matter?”
Chu Qiao pondered for a while, then said: “The Emperor has murderous intentions toward you.”
Yan Xun smiled faintly, his lips curling: “His desire to kill me isn’t something new.”
“This time is different,” Chu Qiao shook her head, saying gravely: “He doesn’t sincerely want to reconcile with you. He just wants to silence the world’s gossip, to find a graceful step down for himself. He wants to eliminate you while distancing himself from the act.”
The young woman’s expression was solemn as she analyzed clearly: “Currently the clans’ power is great, their territories vast. The Emperor has almost no military authority beyond the capital’s troops. Military and financial powers are in the hands of the Elder Council and scattered among the noble houses. If Zhao Zheng De wanted to reclaim royal power, apart from relying on the few royalist generals like Meng Than and Le Xing, he could only place his hopes on the lords and princes enfeoffed in the border regions. Therefore, he cannot openly kill you. First, he fears stirring unrest in Yan Bei and provoking frenzied assassinations by the Great Unity Guild’s death squads. Second, he fears alienating the royal clans across the land, in case it triggers rumors of reducing fiefs again. After all, the clans are waiting for the various princes and royal relatives to rise in arms, so they can take the opportunity to seize territories and expand their family power. Once the power of the lords and marquises is consumed by the clans, it will be even more difficult for the royal family to reclaim imperial authority.”
Yan Xun nodded in agreement, and the young woman continued: “So if he wants to kill you, he must do it through someone else’s hands. He must make it appear ambiguous, then shift the blame to others, distancing himself. But now if you die, the world’s accusations would all point to him. That’s why he chooses at this time to marry his daughter to you, creating a false impression of wanting to reconcile and be magnanimous, letting people believe he truly wants to send you back to Yan Bei, no longer pursuing past matters, and then personally strike, putting you to death. Once you die, his most beloved daughter becomes a widow, and at that time naturally, no one will suspect him.”
Yan Xun laughed lightly, took a sip of tea, and said: “Everything you say is correct.”
The flower room was warm. Yan Xun favored orchids; the room was filled with their fragrance. Warm breezes blew gently, intoxicating.
Yan Xun’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he softly asked: “Then what does A-Chu think I should do?”
“You already have a plan in mind, why ask me?” Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow slightly, saying deeply: “Marry Zhao Chun’er, and one day you’ll face mortal danger. Don’t marry her, and you defy imperial orders, disrespect royal commands, refusing to marry the enemy’s daughter – your rebellious intentions would be clear, disaster immediately befalling you. A person as clever as you, how could you not weigh the pros and cons of this?”
Having said this, Chu Qiao smiled faintly, saying slowly: “These seven years, we’ve endured humiliations and difficulties much greater than this. What’s a mere woman to us now? Heh, the Emperor is seeking an escape route for himself as cover; aren’t we also just buying time? Only pitiful is Zhao Chun’er’s devoted heart, her tender affections.”
Yan Xun’s expression gradually changed, becoming indifferent yet tinged with loneliness and bitterness. He said slowly: “Is this truly your thinking? So you’ve already planned for me.”
“You and I have shared fortune and misfortune for many years; our lives, honor, and disgrace have long been bound as one. Naturally, I would plan for you.” Chu Qiao said deeply: “Moreover, even if I didn’t say it, you would make the same decision. Last night, you already told me.”
Yan Xun was startled upon hearing this, then smiled faintly: “A-Chu is indeed the person who understands me best in this world.”
Chu Qiao stood up, smiled with relief, and stepped forward patting Yan Xun’s shoulder saying: “Of course, we grew up together, a bond of life and death. This will never change.”
Yan Xun, seeing Chu Qiao’s relaxed smile, also smiled, nodding: “Yes, it will never change.”
“I’m going now. I’m about to take up my post at the Xiao Qi Camp. Before I go, I’ll say goodbye to Zhao Song.”
Yan Xun nodded, standing up, saying: “Also give him my regards.”
Chu Qiao turned and walked out. Just as she reached the door, her steps faltered and she stopped, slowly clenching her fist, then releasing it, repeating three times, yet still not walking out. Yan Xun seemed to know she had something to say but didn’t ask, just standing silently.
“Yan Xun, romantic entanglements inevitably weaken a hero’s resolve. You still have many aspirations unfulfilled. The greater cause takes precedence.”
Yan Xun felt a chill in his heart. He didn’t speak, just watched the young woman’s figure gradually disappear into the layers of green in the flower hall, remaining motionless for a long time.
A-Chu, I show you kindness like dripping water, yet you repay me like a gushing spring. Then, faced with your immense kindness, how should I repay?
The afternoon sunlight was bright, but suddenly, Yan Xun found it all so piercing.
“Who’s there?”
A short, sharp call suddenly rang out. Chu Qiao was startled and looked down to see a head emerging from beneath the stone bridge. A gold crown bound his hair, two sword-like eyebrows dark and thick, his nose high, his eyes angry, his forehead somewhat swollen as if struck by something hard.
Chu Qiao’s heart sank, her brows immediately furrowing tightly. She thought to herself that today was truly unlucky. Abandoning the idea of turning to flee, she stood up and bowed from her higher position: “Greetings to the Seventh Prince. Chu Qiao didn’t know Your Highness was under the bridge. Please forgive my offense.”
Zhao Che wore a sky-blue dragon robe, a gold crown with purple ribbons, and a jade belt, with a dark blue jade pendant hanging at his waist, of excellent color. The whole person was handsome and outstanding, very different from his usual appearance. If his expression wasn’t so angry, appearing in such a vast snowy landscape would have been a pleasure to behold.
“It’s you?” Zhao Che frowned, looking up at Chu Qiao on the bridge, his expression gloomy as he said deeply: “You mean to blame me for appearing at an inconvenient time, that I shouldn’t be under the bridge?”
“Your Highness takes it too seriously. All under heaven belongs to the king, and all within the four seas are the king’s subjects. The entire world belongs to the royal family. Where Your Highness likes to be, wants to be, is naturally not for a subordinate like me to comment on.”
Zhao Che was taken aback, muttering “All under heaven belongs to the king, all within the four seas are the king’s subjects” to himself, seemingly lost in thought.
If not now, when?
Chu Qiao bowed, saying deeply: “I won’t disturb Your Highness’s rest. I’ll take my leave.”
“Stop!” A clear voice immediately rang out, halting Chu Qiao’s steps. Zhao Che made a wide detour, climbing up from the other side of the frozen lake, a long journey, quite far. The Great Summer Prince was slightly out of breath, shouting at Chu Qiao from a distance: “Why are you just standing there? Come here!”
Chu Qiao sighed inwardly, inevitably about to face his probing harsh words. Her already poor mood worsened, her expression gloomy as she slowly walked down from the stone bridge.
The trees on both banks were withered, a scene of desolation. Snow stretched vastly, ice sealed the lake. The Seventh Month Bridge spanned across the lake surface, crystal white and translucent, appearing from a distance like a dazzling ribbon.
After leaving Oriole Song Court, Chu Qiao didn’t go find Zhao Song but came alone to the Imperial Garden wanting to clear her mind and think. Great Summer’s summers were extremely short, its winters severe. This Imperial Garden was desolate and dull, traditionally having few visitors. Unexpectedly, throwing a stone from the bridge had hit none other than Zhao Che.
“You just referred to yourself as a subordinate, not a slave. What exactly did you mean?”
Chu Qiao was startled, not expecting this to be his question. She quickly replied: “During the hunting ceremony, the Emperor graciously removed my slave status and personally granted me the position of archery instructor in the Xiao Qi Camp. Your Highness is the commander of the Xiao Qi Camp, and although I haven’t formally presented myself, you are still Chu Qiao’s superior.”
Zhao Che raised an eyebrow, saying deeply: “Xiao Qi Camp archery instructor? You?”
He was surprised, but Chu Qiao was even more surprised, frowning as she asked: “Doesn’t Your Highness know? No one told you?”
Zhao Che’s brows immediately furrowed tightly, showing slight anger, coldly looking at Chu Qiao without answering.
Just these few short sentences inadvertently revealed too much information to Chu Qiao. The shock in her heart momentarily left her speechless as many thoughts converged, overwhelming her. That day after Zhao Che’s military demonstration, he had withdrawn without staying to watch her duel with Zha Ma. Could it be that no one told him afterward?
Could it be that the relationship between the Mu He clan and Zhao Che had already broken down to this extent? Was the Emperor also so distant from this son he once favored most? Zhao Che must have spies in the capital, so who deliberately concealed this? That he didn’t know about Yan Xun’s subordinate being appointed a military officer, such a significant matter – what did this indicate?
As she was lost in thought, her eyes suddenly glanced sideways. Chu Qiao was startled, pointing at Zhao Che’s forehead, saying awkwardly: “Seventh Prince, you…”
Zhao Che frowned, asking puzzled: “What is it?” Then he reached up to touch, and immediately his hand was covered in fresh blood.
“Don’t move.” Chu Qiao quickly stepped forward, taking out a white handkerchief from her bosom, disregarding rank, and pressing it against Zhao Che’s forehead.
“Stop!” Zhao Che’s face showed disgust. The typically slave-despising, status-proud Seventh Prince frowned tightly, coldly rebuking Chu Qiao: “Who gave you permission to touch this prince?”
Chu Qiao was startled upon hearing this, immediately stopping and retreating to the side, coldly looking at the Seventh Prince whose head was gushing blood like a fountain. She said indifferently: “Since Your Highness won’t allow this subordinate to help, I’ll obey your command. But this place is far from the main hall, and a two-incense time away from any inhabited area of the rear palace. Judging by Your Highness’s injury, you’ll likely bleed to death before reaching anywhere.”
“Lowborn!” Zhao Che shouted coldly. The rapid blood loss made him dizzy, almost unable to stand steadily. Earlier when struck by the stone Chu Qiao had thrown, it had only been slightly painful without bleeding, but now blood flowed unceasingly. Despite this, he still stubbornly said deeply: “You dare harm this prince, I will surely exterminate your nine clans!”
Chu Qiao laughed coldly, saying dismissively: “My nine clans have long been exterminated by you people. Now only I remain, which makes it quite simple. But if Your Highness won’t let me help, you may not even have the chance to tell others to avenge you.”
Having said this, Chu Qiao took out a small package of wound medicine and stepped forward.
“Get away!”
“You behave yourself!” The plain-faced woman shouted sternly, with a small grappling technique restraining the Great Summer prince who was staggering in circles from blood loss. In a harsh tone, she said deeply: “You think I want to save you? I just don’t want to be implicated in your death.”
Zhao Che had never in his life encountered such a bold and ruthless servant. For a moment he was slightly stunned, forgetting to struggle.
Chu Qiao grabbed a handful of snow and pressed it against Zhao Che’s wound. The stunned prince immediately cried out in pain, shouting: “What are you doing?”
Chu Qiao coldly snorted, thinking she had assumed he was some kind of tough man, but it turned out he could cry in pain too. While thinking this, she quickly brushed away the accumulated snow, poured on the wound medicine, and then covered it with the handkerchief. She grabbed Zhao Che’s brocade robe, took out a dagger, and with a swish tore off a strip of fabric, bandaging him amid the prince’s angry shouts.
“Bold servant,” Zhao Che sat in the snow, hatefully saying in a low voice: “Tearing the royal dragon robe without permission, do you know what punishment this deserves?”
Chu Qiao frowned at him, slowly shaking her head, her expression even showing some pity. Counting this time, it was only her sixth meeting with Zhao Che. The first time was on her first day in this era, when Zhao Che was still a child, ruthless, pointing his arrow at her several times, mercilessly determined to take her life. The second time was that night when she and Yan Xun were captured. Zhao Che had led troops to ambush them outside the city on the snowy plain, defeating them in one strike, and their suffering began from there. At that time, he was supremely arrogant and full of self-confidence. The third time was the day Zhao Che left the capital. She and Yan Xun had secretly hidden in a corner of the imperial city, witnessing the moment that child was pushed out of the palace gates. That was the first time she and Yan Xun had acted against someone from the royal family. The main target at that time wasn’t Zhao Che; it was to create enmity between Zhao Che and the Wei faction, using the Wei faction to eliminate Zhao Che, then using the Mu He clan’s hatred towards the Wei faction after Zhao Che’s departure to restrict Wei Shu You, gaining breathing room for survival. Then came his recent appearances: once in the imperial city corridor and once at the hunting grounds.
This man gave different impressions each time they met, impossible to ignore. Previously, she had deeply feared him, but now she found it somewhat amusing. Looking at him with blood-stained clothes, and pale face, yet still stubbornly maintaining his dignity, her heart, originally congested and troubled, gradually relaxed.
“I’ve offended enough today, what’s one more crime of tearing clothes?”
The young woman smiled faintly, leaning against a tree as she sat down. The white fur draped over her shoulders made her look like an orchid in a secluded valley, like smoke trees in a vast wilderness.
Zhao Che was startled by her words, raising an eyebrow in confusion: “I can see you truly don’t fear death.”
“No, I do fear death,” Chu Qiao shook her head. “I just don’t believe you’ll kill me.”
Zhao Che asked deeply: “Why?”
Chu Qiao said: “People who truly want revenge would keep it in their hearts, ask me to save them, then come to kill me for revenge after being saved. You, though somewhat arrogant, self-important, looking down on others, and additionally cruel and bloodthirsty, still have some integrity and conscience, so you won’t come seeking revenge afterward.”
The wound medicine was indeed effective. In this short time, it had already stopped the bleeding. Zhao Che coldly snorted, saying deeply: “Do you know that just for your insulting words toward the royal family just now, it would be enough to kill you ten times over.”
Chu Qiao smiled, standing up: “It doesn’t matter. After all, today I’ve already struck a prince, so what’s a couple more insults?”
“How dare you!” Zhao Che suddenly stood up, his face showing anger.
“Don’t come near.” Chu Qiao also coldly snorted: “You should know I’m not an ordinary woman without strength. Whether you at your peak would be my match is another matter, let alone now when you’re seriously injured. I don’t want to beat you up and make you hate me even more.”
Zhao Che gritted his teeth: “Such a presumptuous woman.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
Chu Qiao smiled brightly, turning towards the stone bridge, saying loudly: “If I’ve misjudged you, and you’re truly the kind of ungrateful bully who uses his status to oppress others, then I also advise you not to send people to capture me. Because I won’t admit it, and might even bite back at a crucial moment. If I remember correctly, this should be where Noble Consort Yuan drowned herself back then. If the Empress were to find out about this, what do you think would happen?”
The woman’s clear voice carried far. Zhao Che stood on the lakeshore, fiercely watching Chu Qiao’s retreating figure, his eyes almost spitting fire.
That day the sun was excellent, a rare clear day in winter. The afternoon was fine, the breeze gentle.