Na Zhan was somewhat surprised by her directness, but he smiled and said, “Come, sit down!”
The two sat by the long table, just like on their first night together, both unable to sleep.
“There are two matters to discuss. Originally, only one concerned you, but now both do,” Na Zhan said, his expression turning slightly cold.
Huang Beishuang thought for a moment and replied, “Does one of them involve Fen Tian?”
Na Zhan was slightly startled, then smiled, “You already know? It seems you have more than just your eight generals and three maids! I’ve been keeping the news about Fen Tian contained, preventing discussion within the palace.”
“Does Your Majesty believe Fen Tian is related to me?” Huang Beishuang asked.
“If Wen asked has already assembled an army of 100,000, stockpiling them at the southern border of Fen Tian, with clear intentions of invading our Yunpei, what do you think there is in Yunpei that would make him advance southward with no intention of retreating?” Na Zhan said, “However, this isn’t much of a concern. Yunpei isn’t Ma Sui; he can’t hope to conquer our forty-two states of Ningguang with just that!”
Hearing this, Huang Beishuang secretly breathed a sigh of relief before asking, “And the second matter?”
Na Zhan fell silent for a while upon hearing her question. Finally, he said coldly, “The Northern Tranquility Celestial King, Huo Qingyun!”
Huang Beishuang nearly fell to the ground upon hearing these seven words. She looked at Na Zhan in disbelief, unconsciously shaking her head.
Na Zhan smiled, “Judging by your expression, it seems you didn’t know his identity. If even you, who lived in the Northern Desert, don’t know, it shows how successful his policy of isolation has been!”
Huang Beishuang’s eyes tightened, and she involuntarily placed a hand on her chest. Still unable to calm down, she could only sit to the side, breathing deeply. Qingyun’s identity was one shock, but Na Zhan’s words were another. Indeed, he must have seen something last night.
Na Zhan turned his head to look at the slowly rising sun outside, its light as colorful as a dream. After a while, he said, “Huang Beishuang, what I can give you, he might not be able to. Look at the table!”
Huang Beishuang turned her head, glanced at Na Zhan, then shifted her gaze to the animal skin map on the table. It was a map of Yunpei, with one area circled in red ink.
“I’m granting you 2.6 million mu of land, encompassing the fertile southern province of Yunpei. It’s rich in water resources and lush vegetation. I gift this to you to settle the 7,700 people of the E’na Qi.”
The E’na Qi, one of the four slave ethnicities, numbering 7,700 people, had long settled in the Gur Hachi Oasis of the Northern Desert. With a long history, they were known for their song and dance but constantly harassed by the nomadic Na Kuo’er tribe, living in poverty.
Naturally, the conditions offered by Na Zhan were undoubtedly a godsend for the E’na Qi. If they could truly relocate here, it would mean gaining citizenship and the fertile land they had always dreamed of. No more women would sing prayers of desperation, no more lives would be lost to the chaotic desert sands. This left Huang Beishuang’s mind blank, unable to make any judgments.
“Why does Your Majesty go to such lengths to keep me here?” she finally asked.
Na Zhan smiled wryly, knowing that this beautiful woman had begun to consider his offer. He replied happily, “I’m a person who believes in destiny. According to custom, you should have been betrothed to the nearest Tiandu, but due to Qingyun’s policy of isolation and rejection of all marriage alliances, you chose Yunpei instead. Even Wen Wen’s fierce army couldn’t stop you from reaching my side. Isn’t this the will of heaven? And I need your assistance!”
Hearing this, Huang Beishuang couldn’t help but smile inwardly. The greater the country, the longer its history, the more its people seemed to believe in divine destiny. Why was this? Returning to her usual calmness, she said quietly, “Your Majesty, even if I stay, I cannot stop him from marching south. Moreover, I might betray you! Isn’t this gamble too dangerous?”
Na Zhan smiled bitterly, “If I had more time, I certainly wouldn’t place such a bet.”
Huang Beishuang frowned, “Your Majesty?”
Na Zhan looked at her, gently touching her face. She instinctively shuddered. “Do you love him?” he asked.
“Would my love affect your gamble?” she replied.
Na Zhan’s lips turned cold as he said hoarsely, “No!”
Huang Beishuang stepped back slightly, letting his hand fall into empty air. “I do,” she said.
Na Zhan stood up abruptly, “Then I will never touch you!” With that, he turned and left.
Behind him, only Huang Beishuang’s calm reply remained, “Thank you, Your Majesty!”
Winter had truly arrived, so bitterly cold that it felt as if frost and snow had grown on her bones. No matter how many clothes she wore or how much wine she drank, it remained unbearably cold. Huang Beishuang looked at the map in her hand, the blood-red circle like a chicken coop trapping her inside, forcing her to remember why she had come to Yunpei, forcing her to recall that sudden, swift love…
On that day, in the rare winter morning when sleepless sunlight bathed the earth, she heard the sorrowful and helpless sound of a xiao. The melody awakened the beautiful, youthful Youjia, it awakened the twenty-one budding Jie Ma trees in the courtyard, but it couldn’t awaken the obsessed heart of the xiao player.
The music of the flute in the Cold Moon weeps for the heart,
How many times has the beauty sung amidst wind and rain?
Yet why speak of love that cuts deep—what purpose does it serve?
And why ignore that blossoms bloom regardless of warmth or chill?
The sound fades, dreams awaken,
Leaning against the cool night, shadows stretch long.
The Cold Moon’s breeze, the flute’s melody rises,
Each encounter ends in parting;
The weeping song, sung by those sorrowed,
Tears ebb and flow, hard to forget.
The heavens vast, the earth wide,
Only the flute’s sound soothes the melancholy,
Lips fall silent, feelings hard to repay.
…
—“Falling Flute”
Qingyun, will you be heartbroken…
Even if you won’t be, I will be…