Ashina Jia’s eyelashes trembled lightly, and in her eyes, previously filled with desolation, suddenly flashed a hint of anxious expectation. But a moment later, she lowered her head and said with bitterness: “No, thank you.”
Li Ying sighed softly: “Then I’ll go by myself.”
When Li Ying had entered Ashina Jia’s memories, it was still daybreak. By the time she emerged, it was deep into the night. Walking on the blue stone path, she felt an indescribable pain in her heart, sharp and dense, like countless tiny needle points piercing her heart, making even breathing feel like torture.
She finally arrived at the familiar, desolate residence. It remained deserted and quiet as before. She pressed her lips together, her form passing through the tightly closed vermilion wooden door, slowly walking through the courtyard to Cui Xun’s bedroom.
Through the green window screen, she could faintly see Cui Xun hunched over, writing a memorial to the emperor. In the dim yellow lamplight, he wore a snow-white fox fur robe, his appearance as pure as snow, a solitary figure. His wrist holding the brush was thin and bony. He wrote while coughing violently. In the flickering lamplight, his lonely shadow stretched out. Li Ying stood holding a lamp, staring blankly at his writing silhouette, not knocking to enter for a long time.
Cui Xun seemed to sense something. He raised his head slightly. Outside the green window screen, the delicate figure holding the lamp was exceptionally clear. A ripple passed through Cui Xun’s cold, lake-like eyes, and the sparrow-head brush in his hand dropped with a soft thud onto the white hemp paper, spreading a black ink stain.
His fingers tightened slightly, then he rose, quickly walked to the carved door, opened it, and approached Li Ying. Li Ying held up the cloud-patterned gauze lamp, looking up at his pale face, tears suddenly falling like broken strings of pearls. Cui Xun was somewhat stunned. He asked softly, “Why are you crying?”
Li Ying just looked at him, her eyes misty like foggy springs, crystalline tears rolling down her soft, beautiful face one after another. Cui Xun seemed a bit at a loss. He cautiously asked: “Did I upset you again?”
“No,” Li Ying’s voice carried the hoarseness of someone who had been crying. “You didn’t upset me. You’re good.”
Cui Xun was slightly taken aback. Li Ying bit her lip and said, “Did you hear me, Cui Xun? You’re good. You’re a good person.”
Cui Xun’s lips curved into a slight smile. He said softly, “I heard. I’m good.”
He said to Li Ying: “It’s late and the dew is heavy. Let’s go inside first.”
The flame of the white porcelain lamp flickered. Cui Xun handed a pure white silk handkerchief to the sobbing Li Ying. Li Ying silently accepted it, wiping the tears from her cheeks. The handkerchief was soon completely soaked. After a long while, Li Ying finally stopped sobbing. Cui Xun asked: “What happened?”
Li Ying’s trembling shoulders gradually calmed. Her eyes were still a bit red. She said, “I found a golden-sheathed curved dagger. An obsession was attached to the dagger—that of a Turkic princess, Ashina Jia.”
Looking at Cui Xun’s sickly pale yet handsome face, she said, “She took me into her memories. In her memories, I saw everything you endured during those two years in the Turkic lands.”
Her words seemed to draw Cui Xun back to those unbearable past events—the repeated, inhumane tortures that had trampled on all the pride and dignity of a son of the Boling Cui clan. In the Turkic royal court, he wasn’t a person, but Ashina Wuduo’s lotus slave, an animal she was determined to tame. He seemed to recall being naked and locked in a dog cage, surrounded by pointing fingers, mockery, and ridicule. His face grew even paler, his fingers involuntarily clutching the ink-stained hemp paper, his eyes filled with an abyss-like blankness. Four years later, the overwhelming humiliation and pain were still enough to consume him entirely.
He opened his mouth and said hoarsely: “You… should leave.”
“I’m not leaving,” Li Ying said with red-rimmed eyes. Though her voice was soft, it was exceptionally firm.
Cui Xun almost pleaded with her: “Please go.”
“I’m not leaving,” Li Ying repeated.
Cui Xun gave a bitter laugh: “If you won’t leave, I will.”
With these words, he staggered to his feet and headed toward the door with light steps.
Li Ying also stood up. She was quicker than Cui Xun. She spread her arms, blocking the carved wooden door, tears in her eyes as she looked at Cui Xun.
Cui Xun said, “Move aside.”
Li Ying shook her head.
Cui Xun moved to push her shoulder: “Move aside.”
Li Ying’s body tilted from his push. She barely managed to steady herself on her feet. Seeing that Cui Xun was about to open the door to leave, she grew anxious. Suddenly, she rushed into his arms and tightly embraced him.
Cui Xun was stunned. Li Ying’s body was warm and soft. The calming fragrance from her neck gradually soothed his extremely painful emotions. Li Ying spoke with a choked voice: “Cui Xun, this embrace has nothing to do with romance. I just want to tell you that everything is over. The ground beneath your feet is the Great Zhou. Here, no one will force you to be a lotus slave. You don’t need to be afraid.”
She embraced Cui Xun this way, without a trace of desire—not controlling, not possessing, but gently comforting.
She was as pure as the moon in the sky, unstained by any dust. Her light poured down, filling the ground with clear radiance. The bright moonlight seemed to shine on that snowy night, on the wounded young man hanging outside the Khan’s tent.
In the depths of pain, in a hazy state, he seemed to hear someone saying: “You are yourself. You are not anyone’s lotus slave.”
That person also said: “In this world, it’s not that no one can save you, nor that no one is willing to save you. I will save you. I will save you.”
Cui Xun’s fingertips trembled slightly. Finally, he too reached out, embracing Li Ying’s slender waist. A tear slid from his misty eyes, falling into her cloud-like hair.
The moon was as bright as water. Elegant incense rose from the burner, curling up like the mist of a fairyland, faintly lingering in the air.
Li Ying watched as Cui Xun gently stirred the incense in the burner. The ring of hideous scars on his bony wrist was particularly conspicuous. Li Ying pressed her lips together and asked: “Does it still hurt?”
Cui Xun lowered his head to look at the ring of scars and shook his head: “Not anymore.”
Li Ying nodded silently. She crossed her hands and placed them on her skirt, unconsciously twisting her fingers. She asked again: “That period must have been very difficult to endure.”
Cui Xun did not answer for a long time. After a while, he said hazily: “Wanting to die, yet unable to.”
These six short words expressed everything he had suffered in the Turkic lands. Though his tone was calm, before Li Ying’s eyes flashed scene after scene of the humiliation he had endured in the Turkic lands. Her eyes reddened again. She bit her lip and lowered her head, suppressing her sadness, not wanting Cui Xun to notice.
After a moment, she raised her head and said, “Although Ashina Wuduo has become Consort Hui, this is not the Turkic lands. She can’t torture you anymore.”
Cui Xun’s thoughts seemed somewhat confused. Every time he saw Ashina Wuduo, she used every opportunity to make him recall the humiliation he had suffered in the Turkic lands. She had been in the Great Zhou for three years and had met him fewer than five times, but each time left him spiritually wounded, illness piled upon illness.
He wanted to forget, but she wouldn’t let him. Memories like a tide engulfed him, trapping him in inescapable suffocation.
In his ears, he seemed to hear Li Ying’s gentle voice: “Cui Xun, don’t be afraid. I will be with you.”
Cui Xun was like a drowning man who had finally grabbed a floating piece of wood. He stared blankly at Li Ying. Though her appearance was gentle, her face carried an undeniable firmness. She told him not to be afraid. She said she would be with him.
Cui Xun’s eyes suddenly grew warm. He lowered his head and then nodded lightly.
The curling incense was about to burn out, and Cui Xun was about to attend court.
The blue smoke rose in thin strands, reaching upward, just like the moon among the clouds, distant and unattainable. But those struggling in darkness always hope that the bright moonlight might linger on them a while longer.
Cui Xun suddenly said to Li Ying, “You… should move back here.”
Before Li Ying could answer, he continued: “I’ve already found some clues about Jin Ni’s whereabouts. It’s ultimately inconvenient for you to pass messages while staying elsewhere.”
Li Ying looked at his eyes, cold and clear as shattered jade. His gaze, always calm without a ripple, now seemed somewhat nervous. Li Ying nodded gently. Cui Xun seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He said, “Everything in the study remains unchanged. I’ll have the mute servant clean it thoroughly.”
Li Ying wasn’t concerned about the condition of the room. Instead, she asked Cui Xun: “Can we really catch Jin Ni?”
Cui Xun nodded: “I’ve already discovered that he’s come to Chang’an. The military officers of the Investigation Department are currently searching every corner of Chang’an. We should have results within days.”
Li Ying suddenly hesitated. Cui Xun asked: “Are you worried about finding Jin Ni soon?”
The saying goes that one becomes timid as they approach their hometown. Li Ying had been investigating for so long without finding the true culprit, and Jin Ni was very likely to know the truth. When approaching the truth, this feeling of both anxiety and unease is something everyone experiences, Li Ying being no exception.
But this time, Cui Xun guessed wrong. Li Ying shook her head: “I’m not worried about finding Jin Ni soon.”
“Then what is it?”
Li Ying looked at him, her eyes filled with deep concern: “The Investigation Department is looking for Jin Ni, and so is the Dali Temple. If the Dali Temple finds him first and forces him to give testimony against you, what then?”
So, she was worried for him.
A wave of warmth flowed through Cui Xun’s heart. He said, “I’m confident that the Dali Temple won’t find Jin Ni before I do.”
Li Ying nodded silently. Looking at Cui Xun’s pale face, she suddenly sighed: “I know that when you handle official business, you tend to work without rest. This way, the Dali Temple won’t find Jin Ni before you, but your own body will inevitably collapse.”
Cui Xun saw her worried expression. His eyes, usually cold as frost and snow, showed a rare softness: “I know my limits.”
Li Ying’s heart was filled with both frustration and helplessness. She said petulantly: “If I move back, I’ll make sure you don’t mistreat your body like this. Can you handle that?”
Cui Xun just looked at her and nodded with a slight smile. When he smiled, his phoenix eyes rippled with a gentle expression, like a thousand peach blossoms slowly blooming—the peach tree flourishing, its flowers brilliant. Li Ying’s heart suddenly pounded violently. She hurriedly lowered her head, hiding the blush that appeared on her face. She said softly: “If you don’t find me annoying, then I’ll move back.”
Her lowered neck was elegantly long, her skin delicate and fair, emitting a soft glow like jade under moonlight. Cui Xun gazed at her without blinking and softly said: “Mm.”
After Cui Xun left for court, Li Ying returned to Yongxing Ward to pack her belongings. After entering the residence, she lit the red spider lily, and Ashina Jia’s figure gradually appeared.
Li Ying asked: “Princess Ashina Jia, I’m moving to Cui Xun’s mansion. Do you want to come with me?”
Ashina Jia was still hesitant. Li Ying said, “I know you’re afraid to see Cui Xun, but your obsession has been attached to the dagger for three years. Wasn’t it so that one day you could see him again? Now he’s within reach, but you still refuse to see him. This isn’t a solution.”
Ashina Jia continued to hesitate. Li Ying sighed: “Alright, if you don’t dare to see him, I’ll leave the dagger here. When you want to see him, come find me at the Cui mansion.”
Ashina Jia bit her lip and nodded. Her figure retreated into the golden-sheathed dagger. Li Ying placed the dagger on the bookshelf, then picked up her luggage and left the new residence.
On her way from the new residence to the Cui mansion, she deliberately chose to walk through crowded markets. Sure enough, the common folk were all discussing Jin Ni and Cui Xun. In their conversations, they said these two traitors had betrayed their country and should be subjected to death by a thousand cuts. Li Ying frowned. Influenced by Jin Ni’s case, the accusations that Cui Xun had surrendered to the Turks were once again rampant. In the eyes of the common people, once Jin Ni was caught, they would also find evidence of Cui Xun’s surrender to the Turks and imprison him as well.
If the common people thought this way, what about the high officials at court? Cui Xun had many enemies at court. If Jin Ni fell into the hands of the Dali Temple, its eighty-one cruel tortures could turn nothing into something.
Now, they could only hope that Cui Xun would catch Jin Ni soon, preventing him from falling into others’ hands.
But for some reason, although Cui Xun was confident that he could catch Jin Ni before the Dali Temple, a deep sense of worry lingered in Li Ying’s heart, making her feel that something significant was about to happen.
She calmed her mind slightly, hoping that her worry was unfounded.