Sober in Wine, Drunk in Life
The longing for one person isn’t wrong, but passion isn’t everything in life. Born into the world of politics, Qingyun, Huang Beishuang, and Na Zhan all understood this principle deeply. Because of this, none of them could achieve the carefree wildness of Ruo Wen.
Now, looking at Fengtian, with power firmly established, Ruo Wen stood with five thousand Huangtian Wild Troops and an army of a hundred thousand. Full of vigor, he gazed from the Heyan Palace towards the unseen Yunpei, his thoughts a mystery to all.
“Your Majesty, General Manhu seeks an audience!” a slender maid bowed and announced. Before Ruo Wen could respond, Manhu’s rough voice already burst into the hall, “Leader! Leader!” His tone was unrefined.
Ruo Wen waved his hand, and the maid quickly retreated.
In Fengtian, only the Huangtian Wild Troop members still addressed him as “Leader,” a special privilege. Though the reason was unknown, it pleased the four thousand die-hard followers. Because of this special treatment, joining the Huangtian Wild Troops became the highest honor in Fengtian, where the capable rose and the strong seized power.
“Leader, we’ve got something great for you. You’ll love it!” Manhu could barely contain his excitement, his face beaming with anticipation of a reward. His broad shoulders and strong arms were reminiscent of Zhan Bie’s build, both were skilled archers.
“What nonsense is this?” Ruo Wen asked lazily.
“Women! Really fine women!” Manhu’s voice almost cracked with excitement.
Ruo Wen laughed heartily. At that moment, two naked, alluring beauties emerged from behind him, their bodies covered in bruises, evidence of rough treatment. Manhu, unsurprised and unabashed, merely chuckled dryly.
The two beauties were none other than the cool Ruo Lan and the passionate Fei Wen. They languidly picked up their scattered clothes from the floor. Fei Wen playfully asked, “Brother Manhu! What kind of woman is so good that you’re this excited? Better than us?”
Manhu sneered and clapped his hands, “Bring them in!”
Soon, four guards pushed in three women with tattered clothes. They looked dirty, faces covered in ash, bodies marked with scabbed black wounds. RuoWen raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. He stepped forward, lifted the chin of the middle woman, and asked in a deep voice, “Where did you find them?”
Seeing his reaction, Manhu grew even more excited, “This morning, Wolf Head and I were digging for treasures in the tomb clusters behind Heyan Mountain. We didn’t expect to find these three women who survived cremation. How about it? Doesn’t she look similar? Like that Huang Beishuang!”
Ruo Wen smiled and released the young woman’s chin. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The young woman, around eighteen or nineteen, the same age as Huang Beishuang, looked at Ruo Wen without fear, her clear gray-blue eyes unwavering. She answered in a firm, clear voice, “I am Ge Xinwei!”
From the former Masuiran Kingdom, the Yu clan’s royal surname was Muge. The forty-first king, Ge’er Jinqin, had no sons and reluctantly listed his thirteen siblings as heirs to the throne. The ninth princess, Ge Xinwei, was last in the line of succession. At nineteen, born of a concubine, she was often scorned by her sisters and abused by her brothers. In the deep autumn of 331 CE, the Yellow Calamity struck, annihilating the Yu clan. A great fire consumed the noble tombs for thirteen days, devastating all life. Fengtian was abruptly established. A month later, the ninth princess, the only survivor of the catastrophe, along with her two maids, was captured and presented to Fengtian’s Wild Blood King Ruo Wen. They were not executed, for reasons unknown.
The world of the vast desert is red. Be it sand or clouds, when the fierce sun rises, everything turns as red as burning wood, emitting invisible smoke that distorts space. There, one cannot breathe. Yet the world is also blue. Be it sand or clouds, when the cool moon ascends, everything turns as blue as a frozen sword, reflecting the bitter cold of years of parting sorrow. There too, one cannot breathe.
That night, in the Palace of广寒, all was increasingly cold and quiet.
Na Zhan lay in Zhen Qu Youjia’s embrace, allowing her to wrap his weary body in soft silk, feeling her motherly warmth. He finally stopped dwelling on the unanswered farewell in 怀月 Pavilion. Youjia smiled as she watched the sleeping king, her expression infinitely gentle. Even someone as rational as Na Zhan wouldn’t know that when a woman loves you, she can become your wife; when a woman loves you, she can also become your mother, giving you what you need, and thinking what you think.
Though he didn’t know this, he still cherished it deeply.
In Huaiyue Pavilion, there was no sound of flutes. Huang Beishuang sat by the pavilion, watching Qingyun as he placed a pair of pearl earrings on her. His hands were gentle, but her heart was heavy.
“The color of snow truly suits you!” Qingyun remarked.
Huang Beishuang smiled and turned to sit aside.
“What does silence mean?” Qingyun, not receiving the enthusiastic response he expected, grew cold. He leaned against the pavilion pillar, holding his sword, and asked in a deep voice.
“I won’t leave!” Huang Beishuang answered with difficulty.
“Say it again?” Qingyun’s anger was evident.
“I won’t!” she replied. She couldn’t say it a second time because they had both heard it the first time.
“Do you know who I am?” he looked at her.
“I just found out!”
“Why won’t you leave?” Qingyun asked.
“If I leave Na Zhan, he will send troops to attack E’na Qi!” She thought for a moment before answering.
Qingyun’s lips curled into a sneer, “Nonsense. The Northern Desert is my domain. No matter how strong Yunpei is, they wouldn’t dare to challenge me. Moreover…” He paused before continuing, “He’s already a step behind me. Huke has pledged allegiance to Tiandu. In this situation, crossing the great desert just to attack a slave nation of seven thousand people is impossible.”
Huang Beishuang was shocked, but then said, “Even with your protection, E’na Qi won’t have peace. I can’t leave!”