Cui Xun was visibly stunned.
Li Ying’s upturned face was snow-white, her eyes sparkling. She smiled with pursed lips and asked again, “Cui Xun, were you… Worried about me?”
Cui Xun finally came to his senses. He released her wrist and stepped back two paces, his eyes once again calm as still water. He didn’t answer her question, but instead said, “Pei Guanyue is surrounded by many Daoist priests and Buddhist monks. By following him, were you trying to die a second time?”
Despite his words, Li Ying didn’t feel dejected this time. She didn’t pursue her question further, but simply looked at him with a gentle smile and said, “Alright, I won’t do it again. Don’t be angry.”
Cui Xun was taken aback again and said softly, “I’m not angry.”
But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say the rest. He sighed lightly and changed the subject, “Did you discover anything while following Pei Guanyue?”
“Yes,” Li Ying said. “The damage to my tomb was indeed their doing.”
“As expected.”
“I made another discovery.”
“What discovery?”
Li Ying’s gaze shifted to the old bow in Cui Xun’s hand, then to the exposed section of his wrist extending from his sleeve. His wrist was beautiful, cold and white as jade, his fingers long and clean, extraordinarily handsome. Such a beautiful hand, yet unable to draw his bow.
Li Ying looked up. She didn’t mention what Pei Guanyue had said about Cui Xun’s time in the Dali Temple, but instead said, “Pei Guanyue mentioned that Censor Jia Fang, who impeached you, was dismissed by my mother. Several others on their side were also dismissed. He thinks my mother is venting her anger.”
After hearing this, Cui Xun appeared thoughtful. Li Ying smiled slightly, “You said earlier that my mother wanted to prevent you from investigating the case, so she didn’t pursue who damaged my tomb. But in fact, she did pursue it.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward, her smile as fresh and radiant as an early spring blossom. She was easily made happy by small things, so when she learned that her mother hadn’t ignored her, she felt genuinely delighted—the joy of love being reciprocated. She knew her mother had never forgotten her.
Cui Xun looked at her upturned lips, but he still harbored doubts. Was the Empress Dowager’s sudden fury merely because he had investigated someone close to her? Faced with Li Ying’s sparkling eyes, however, he couldn’t voice his doubts.
So he turned his face away, watching the moonlight spill onto the bluestone bricks outside the alley. “Hmm, I was wrong to be suspicious.”
Li Ying paused slightly, then said softly, “You’re not suspicious.”
Cui Xun, who had been called a “petty man” countless times, found her words somewhat novel. “Oh? If not suspicious, then what?”
Li Ying genuinely contemplated his question. A good person? He didn’t quite qualify. A bad person? No, she didn’t think so. What should he be called?
After long thought, she said, “You are… an obsessive.”
This time, it was Cui Xun who was slightly taken aback. “Why do you say that?”
“Obsession is a form of fixation. You are fixed on one thought, trapped by one thought. Aren’t you an obsessive?”
Cui Xun carefully considered her words. After a while, he laughed softly and said, “Obsessed with life, obsessed with death, obsessed with illumination, obsessed with extinction—it can’t be changed now.”
Li Ying didn’t try to persuade him to let go of his obsession, but simply gazed at him quietly, her eyes as soft as moonlight. Cui Xun suddenly asked, “Then what kind of person does the Princess think she is?”
“Me?” Li Ying said, “I’m a person without great ambitions. I don’t have any grand ideals either. I only hope that those I love will live peacefully and well. That’s all.”
Cui Xun’s fingertips traced the curved bow in his hand. Before, the bow had been covered with rust, but now it was as smooth as new. He shook his head, “The Medicine Buddha says that when one attains enlightenment, the body becomes like crystal, clear inside and out, pure without blemish. So I think the Princess is a person with a crystal heart.”
Before Li Ying could ponder his words, Cui Xun didn’t continue. He said, “Let’s go. My uncle has promised to report the cat ghost matter. Your mother will be fine.”
Li Ying nodded. In the moonlight, she walked alongside Cui Xun—one with a shadow, one without. The hazy moonlight fell obliquely on Cui Xun, casting his shadow toward Li Ying. She looked down at his tall, slender shadow. Even his way of walking was pleasing to the eye, his steps elegant and unhurried. The hem of his crane-feather cloak swayed slightly with his movements, revealing his thin wrists and distinct finger joints. Li Ying unconsciously reached out, her fingertips lightly touching his elongated fingers projected on the ground. Cui Xun’s fingers moved slightly, and the fingers in the shadow seemed to curl around Li Ying’s fingertips. Li Ying jumped in fright, hastily withdrawing her fingers into her sleeve. She secretly glanced at Cui Xun, but he hadn’t noticed anything, still gazing forward as he walked quietly. Li Ying calmed down, then looked back at Cui Xun’s shadow with curiosity and an inexplicable flutter in her heart. Carefully, she used her fingertips to touch his shadow’s fingertips again, a smile unconsciously curling her lips. She remained silent until finally Cui Xun turned his head, about to say something, when Li Ying reacted as if caught in the act, hastily hiding her hand behind her back with a conspicuous movement. Cui Xun asked in confusion, “What’s wrong?”
“No-nothing,” Li Ying lowered her head, concealing the two spots of blush on her cheeks. She stammered, “I was just… just thinking about something, so I was startled…”
“I see…”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Cui Xun nodded, and Li Ying asked, “What were you going to say to me just now?”
Cui Xun looked at her and said, “Nothing important.”
He had only wanted to speak to her because she had been silent for so long, thinking she might still be worried.
He turned his face away, looking at the silvery-white moonlight spilling on the bluestone bricks ahead. The night was quiet, the wind still. He pursed his lips and said, “I was just going to say that this moonlight… is like crystal.”
With the evening drums and morning bells, Chang’an’s crystal moon gradually faded, and a red sun rose brilliantly.
Cui Songqing acted quickly. Besides sending people to retrieve the green five-colored twelve-pattern ceremonial robe from the stone hut, he swiftly entered the palace to report the cat ghost matter to the Empress Dowager. Unfortunately, when the cat ghost was injured at the ghost market, Jiang Liang had already sensed it. Both he and the cat ghost had vanished from the stone hut.
The Imperial Physicians used an ancient remedy from the previous dynasty to treat cat ghost afflictions: one seed each of red bean and castor bean, four zhu each of cinnabar powder and wax, boiled into a medicinal soup for the Empress Dowager. Her health indeed improved significantly. The Emperor, always filial and benevolent, was deeply disturbed upon hearing this. He knelt at length before Penglai Palace to beg forgiveness, saying it was his oversight that had allowed his mother to be harmed by a cat ghost.
The Empress Dowager didn’t blame the Emperor—how could a witch using a cat ghost to harm someone be his fault? Despite her weakened state, she helped the Emperor to his feet at the entrance of Penglai Palace. Having received the Empress Dowager’s understanding, the Emperor summoned his officials and ordered the Dali Temple to quickly apprehend Jiang Liang. He insisted that the man be captured alive. Chang’an was thrown into chaos, but the maternal kindness of the Empress Dowager and the filial piety of the Emperor became yet another celebrated story.
At this time, Cui Songqing suggested to the Empress Dowager that Cui Xun should be reinstated for his merit in discovering the cat ghost. The Empress Dowager was initially unwilling, but Cui Songqing argued that Cui Xun had served in the Investigation Bureau for three years, showing judgment and ability. No one was better at detecting secret plots. Moreover, as long as the cat ghost remained at large, the Empress Dowager would not be at peace. Compared to the Empress Dowager’s well-being, Cui Xun’s offense could be temporarily set aside.
Finally, Cui Songqing asked the Empress Dowager a question: “Does Your Highness trust Cui Xun or the Dali Temple?”
Upon hearing this, the Empress Dowager remained silent for a moment, then finally agreed to Cui Songqing’s request to see Cui Xun once more.
When Li Ying learned of this news, she was very happy. Her mother’s willingness to see Cui Xun meant he had a chance to be reinstated. But when her mother saw him, she would surely question why he had investigated people close to her. How should Cui Xun respond?
Li Ying racked her brain. Her mother was someone who couldn’t tolerate even a speck of sand in her eye, so deception was out of the question. Better to tell the truth, but how exactly to express this truth required careful consideration.
She thought for half a day without finding an answer, so she decided to go to Cui Xun’s chamber to ask him what he was thinking. But in broad daylight, Cui Xun’s chamber door was tightly shut, and even the windows were closed firmly.
Wasn’t he about to enter the palace to see her mother? Why was he shutting himself in?
Li Ying grew curious. She knocked at the door, but after knocking for quite some time, there was no response from within. Her curiosity turned to anxiety. Had something happened to Cui Xun?
Remembering that Shen Que and Pei Guanyue had been plotting to kill him just last night, Li Ying became even more anxious. She hesitated briefly, then her transparent figure passed through the tightly closed latticework door and entered his chamber.
As soon as Li Ying stepped into Cui Xun’s chamber, she was startled by the scene before her. Cui Xun sat with his back to her at a sandalwood table, appearing unharmed. But his middle garment was removed, revealing a back covered with new and old wounds layered upon each other. In his hand was a dagger, which he was bringing down toward a wound on his back.
Li Ying cried out in alarm. Cui Xun noticed her, stopped his movement, and quickly put on his middle garment before turning his head to say, “How did you come in?”
“You didn’t open the door, I thought something had happened to you.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Cui Xun said.
Li Ying looked at the silver-gleaming dagger on the table and asked, “If nothing’s wrong, then what were you doing just now?”
Cui Xun’s expression remained calm: “Doing what needs to be done.”
“What do you mean by ‘what needs to be done’?” Li Ying couldn’t understand at all. “If I didn’t see wrong, you were trying to wound yourself. Your lash wounds have barely scabbed over, and you want to injure yourself again?”
Cui Xun remained silent, only saying, “Please leave first.”
Li Ying bit her lip and said, “Your lash wounds healed so quickly because I cared for you day and night. If you don’t tell me why, I won’t leave.”
After saying this, she stubbornly sat down across from Cui Xun, looking as if nothing could make her leave.
Faced with her obstinacy, Cui Xun had no choice. He sighed and said, “I have no choice but to do this.”
“Why?”
“The Empress Dowager hates me,” Cui Xun explained. “When the Empress Dowager hates someone, she wishes them dead. If I appear before her unharmed, she will feel unsatisfied. If my flesh is torn and wounded, she will feel much more pleased. This way, my chances of being reinstated will be greater.”
After hearing this, Li Ying found herself unable to argue. This psychology was common to all people. But the one with torn flesh and wounds was Cui Xun, and she didn’t want him to do this at all.
She shook her head. “There must be another way. You don’t need to hurt yourself like this.”
“It’s too late,” Cui Xun said. “If I don’t succeed this time, who knows when I’ll have another chance to be reinstated?”
Li Ying fell silent, then suddenly asked, “Cui Xun, your obsession with reinstatement—is it for yourself or for the fifty thousand Tianwei soldiers who died?”
Cui Xun didn’t answer immediately. After a while, he said, “There’s no difference.”
Li Ying bit her lip as she looked at Cui Xun. Before her eyes flashed many images: him bending down to pick up those dirty copper coins; tears streaming down his face when he heard the entire Tianwei Army kneeling in gratitude; him digging up Sheng Yunting’s remains with his bare hands in the rainy night. Li Ying’s voice trembled slightly, “Cui Xun, can’t you be a little kinder to yourself?”
Cui Xun gazed at her, his eyes filled with what seemed to be both sorrow and pity. Then, he slowly shook his head.
Li Ying didn’t speak again for a long time. Finally, she tugged her lips into a bitter smile. “I was the one who cared for your wounds. If you’re to be wounded again, let me do it.”
She picked up the dagger from the table. “I’ll do it.”
Cui Xun looked at her silently, then nodded. He turned his back and removed his upper garment, revealing his scarred back.
Li Ying held the dagger, which gleamed coldly, exceptionally sharp. Her hand trembled uncontrollably. Before the blade’s tip even touched Cui Xun’s wounds, she suddenly threw the dagger aside and collapsed onto the table, breaking into heart-wrenching sobs.
She lay there on the table, crying as if the world were ending. Cui Xun watched her shoulders heave with sobs, somewhat bewildered. His fingers lifted slightly, as if wanting to comfort her, but his slender hand stopped midair and finally dropped back down. He didn’t speak either, but quietly watched her from the side, waiting for her to finish crying.
Li Ying didn’t know how long she had cried. After a while, she raised her head with hiccups, wiped her tears, and shakily picked up the dagger again. Cui Xun turned his back once more. Li Ying, trembling, closed her eyes and slashed at a scabbed lash wound on his back.
The dagger cut through iron like mud. With just a light slash across the wound, the scab split completely open, and fresh blood gushed out. Cui Xun’s brow furrowed imperceptibly with pain. Li Ying made only one cut, then was unwilling to continue. Cui Xun, not hearing any sound, turned around in pain to look at her. He discovered she had hidden the dagger behind her back, her eyes swollen like peach pits, her voice still carrying the hoarseness of someone who had cried, as she stubbornly said, “That’s enough.”
Cui Xun reached out his hand, but Li Ying insisted on not giving him the dagger. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “One wound is frightening enough. That’s enough.”
She looked as if she might break into sobs again at any moment. Cui Xun gazed at her swollen eyes and sighed softly. He tried to soften his voice: “Yes, that’s enough.”
He raised his hand in pain, preparing to put on his middle garment, but Li Ying said, “Let me help.”
Cui Xun remained silent and lowered his hand. Li Ying put the dagger aside and went to help Cui Xun put on his clothes. But she inadvertently saw the terrifying old scars covering his bare torso. Li Ying’s hand froze in midair. She remembered Ashina Jia’s words in the plum forest, remembered Shen Que saying he had spent a year in the Dali Temple and wouldn’t confess, remembered the world’s condemnation of him, remembered Cui Songqing’s question, “Why didn’t you die in the Tujue territory?” An overwhelming tide of grief welled up from her heart. Tears again burst from her eyes, crystal drops falling one after another like broken pearls, pattering onto the floor. She tried to wipe them away, but they flowed even more profusely. After a long while, she bit her lip and asked through her sobs, “Cui Xun, does… does it hurt?”