Meng Duo’er’s eyes dimmed again immediately, but she remained fairly composed, saying flatly, “It’s nothing, it’s nothing, let’s go, let’s head back.”
Having watched her cry for so long, Situ Jing’er wasn’t about to simply accept “it’s nothing.”
She grabbed Meng Duo’er’s hand, forcing her to sit back down. “Something’s definitely wrong!”
“Silly girl, I just miss home. I’ll be fine once I’ve had my cry,” Meng Duo’er offered as an excuse.
“Do you think I’m a three-year-old you can fool that easily? If you missed home, you wouldn’t be crying here instead of going back. Tell me the truth—did Baili Weisheng do something to you?” Situ Jing’er was sharp after all.
Caught out, Meng Duo’er didn’t try to hide it any longer, looking at Situ Jing’er and managing a helpless smile through her tears. “Girl, how do you know everything?”
“Anyone with eyes could see it—you like Baili Weisheng,” Situ Jing’er said seriously. “Duo’er, your barrier techniques are so powerful, there probably aren’t many people in this world who could bully you. So it has to be someone you like who’s capable of hurting you—and that’s Baili Weisheng!”
Meng Duo’er wasn’t sure how much of this Situ Jing’er could truly understand, but she told her anyway, recounting everything that had happened the night before.
Situ Jing’er listened, wide-eyed, and finally jumped up in outrage, cursing loudly, “That annoying scholar is really something else!”
But for all her cursing, Situ Jing’er couldn’t actually do anything to help Meng Duo’er, and could only try to console her. “Duo’er, there are plenty of good men in this world. If he doesn’t want you, don’t want him either. Come travel the martial world with me—I’ll find you someone way better than him!”
“Travel the martial world?” Meng Duo’er asked, puzzled. “Weren’t you going back to Xijing?”
Situ Jing’er startled, realizing she’d just let something slip.
Having someone to talk to was always a good distraction, a way to temporarily forget the unpleasantness—besides, in Meng Duo’er’s eyes, Situ Jing’er was still, after all, just a child.
Being this vulnerable in front of a child was never a good idea.
Tucking all her pain away deep inside, Meng Duo’er remained fairly composed. Her red, swollen eyes looked rather pitiful, but she pressed on seriously. “Girl, just a few days ago you said you were heading back to Xijing. You…”
“I meant later! Later on, I’ll go traveling the martial world with you!” Situ Jing’er quickly explained.
Meng Duo’er didn’t believe her for a second, frowning as she said seriously, “No, you haven’t been home in a long while. Your parents will be worried.”
Situ Jing’er slumped back with a defeated sigh, knowing that having let this slip, there was no way she’d get to sneak off now.
Meng Duo’er would probably tell Aunt Qing, and Aunt Qing would send someone to escort her home.
Situ Jing’er stared up at the sky, letting out a long sigh. “Sigh…”
Meng Duo’er turned to look at her, hesitated a moment, then said, “Jing’er, let me go stay in Xijing with you for a while.”
She didn’t want to return to the Dream Clan—if she went back, her father would surely chase after her with endless questions, and seeing the sea would only stir up wild thoughts in her mind. She didn’t want to stay in the Da Zhou capital either. Xijing seemed like a good option, and besides… Xijing might just hold something she was looking for.
After crying all night, she’d also spent the whole night lost in thought, and something had actually come to her.
Undying, indestructible, ageless—if she remembered correctly, Xijing seemed to have some legend about something undying, indestructible, and ageless, unrelated to the human Gu, but a mysterious, ancient race.
She’d overheard it by chance as a child, and couldn’t quite remember the details now, nor how much of it was true. But even if there was just the slightest sliver of hope, she wasn’t willing to give up on it—perhaps she could find out more by going to Xijing.
When Meng Duo’er said she’d go back with her, Situ Jing’er brightened instantly, jumping up and extending her little finger, declaring loudly, “Pinky promise, whoever breaks it is a little dog!”
Meng Duo’er laughed and hooked her finger with Situ Jing’er’s.
Whether it was Situ Jing’er’s comfort or that undying, indestructible, ageless belief deep in her heart, something had finally coaxed a smile back onto her face.
“Let’s hurry back—Xiaosheng should be awake by now!” Meng Duo’er suddenly remembered.
By the time the two of them rushed back, Baili Xiaosheng was still unconscious, with Ziqing keeping watch beside her, clearly still furious. Seeing Meng Duo’er’s red-rimmed eyes, she more or less guessed that this was Baili Weisheng’s doing too. She didn’t ask, but privately began wondering how she could possibly track down that annoying scholar.
Meng Duo’er walked over to the bedside. Ziqing patted the spot beside her, inviting her to sit, but she shook her head, simply standing beside Baili Xiaosheng, gazing at the girl silently, aching for her on her behalf.
“Still not awake?” she asked quietly.
Ziqing handed her the note Baili Weisheng had left behind, saying flatly, “She’d only just woken up when she read this, and passed right back out. Baili Weisheng really is a scoundrel—whoever ends up with a man like that will suffer for it.”
Ziqing was, of course, using the opportunity to comfort Meng Duo’er, and Meng Duo’er understood perfectly well, nodding, sighing softly. “Yes… it’s better this way, that he left. Saves us the anger of having to look at him.”
Ziqing nodded too, gently pressing Meng Duo’er’s hand, and only then said quietly, “Last night, did you know he was planning to leave?”
Meng Duo’er nodded helplessly. “Unfortunately… there was no stopping him.”
“You couldn’t have stopped him for his whole life anyway. His life is very long, and ours… is ultimately too short,” Ziqing said flatly. She’d never really considered this problem before—she’d always thought Meng Duo’er was quite good for him, a pure, innocent little rabbit paired against that cunning old fox of a scholar.
But now, thinking it over carefully, this regret wasn’t really Meng Duo’er’s tragedy at all—it was, in fact, Baili Weisheng’s own sorrow.
Ziqing had cursed him a scoundrel more than once, but deep down, the one she truly ached for was still him.
Meng Duo’er looked at Ziqing, never expecting that what she’d just said was precisely the reason Baili Weisheng had given for rejecting her the night before.
She smiled helplessly, still nodding, but her heart hadn’t given up. “I know.”
“Stay in the capital and keep me company for a while, and Xiaosheng too,” Ziqing said with a smile, knowing full well she wouldn’t stay, but urging her to anyway.
At this, Situ Jing’er piped up immediately. “Aunt Qing, Duo’er’s coming back to Xijing with me. Why don’t you come with us and visit too? My mother-empress misses you!”
“Go to Xijing? Ha, look at me, can I even walk with this belly?” Ziqing laughed. Meng Duo’er and Jing’er heading to Xijing together actually sounded like a good idea.
She wanted to go, but couldn’t get away—setting aside her pregnancy, there was still Consort Li to deal with back in the palace, and Jun Beiyue and Jun Buli had been discussing military action against Nanzhao these past few days. She couldn’t possibly leave right now.
“You two go on ahead. Once the baby’s born, I’ll come visit,” Ziqing said with a smile, about to say more, when suddenly a sharp pain shot through her abdomen!
That pain made Ziqing’s hand freeze instantly, turning cold.
With her experience giving birth before, Ziqing knew exactly what this was—labor pains!
There were still ten days until her due date—the baby was coming this early…
Seeing the sudden change in Ziqing’s expression, Meng Duo’er was alarmed. “Ziqing, what’s wrong?”
Hongyi, standing nearby, didn’t hesitate either, immediately rushing out to call for help—the first person she called for was Jun Beiyue.