As soon as the governance meeting ended, Qingyun immediately returned to the imperial bedchamber. His subordinates reported that she had been out all day with ten generals and three maids, even revisiting her former residence in E’nati. She had also discarded the soil brought by the war messenger, which pleased him greatly.
Huang Beishuang was brewing alcohol, a flavor entirely different from Ba wine, with hints of tartness and fragrance. She sat by the table, smiled, and beckoned, “You’re back. Come, have a taste!”
Qingyun sat beside her, took the cup she offered, and drank it without hesitation.
“Sour! The aftertaste isn’t bad, but it’s too little,” he remarked lightly after finishing.
This scene, while ordinary in a common household, was heart-stopping to Miaojing in the Ice Thorn Palace. For eleven years, His Majesty had never drunk anything but Ba wine. This habit instilled both fear and submission, as drinking only Ba wine rendered poisoning attempts futile. Yet, this eleven-year habit crumbled effortlessly before Queen Guanying.
“Your Majesty!” Miaojing couldn’t help but remind him, but Qingyun waved his hand, “Leave!”
Huang Beishuang looked up with a smile, “Lord Miao, there’s no need for concern. Please go and rest. I wish to be alone with His Majesty!”
Hearing this, Miaojing could only bow and slowly retreat.
Once he left, Qingyun picked up the golden purple clay teapot before him and asked, “What kind of wine is this?”
Huang Beishuang smiled faintly, took the pot, and poured another cup, still only filling it halfway. “Do you like it?”
Qingyun took it and drank it in one gulp. “Can’t you pour more? Drinking like this is tiring!” He paused, then turned to look at her and said, “To be honest, it doesn’t taste that good!”
Huang Beishuang chuckled, “This is called Tonggui wine, also a custom from E’nati!”
“Tonggui?” Qingyun raised an eyebrow, “As in ‘dying together’?”
“Nonsense!” Huang Beishuang pinched his cheek, “It means ‘destined for three lifetimes, different paths leading to the same destination.'”
“Oh!” This explanation seemed to satisfy Qingyun. He took her hand and brushed it against his lips, saying softly, “Is it similar to that marriage song?”
Huang Beishuang nodded, “Tonggui wine is sour at first sip but sweet in aftertaste. On their wedding night, a newlywed couple drinks it together. This is the wisdom of our ancestors, meaning that although life is full of trials – birth, aging, sickness, death, reunions, and partings – as time passes, those who keep their promises will ultimately taste the sweetness of life! No matter how different two people are, they will eventually come together!”
“So that’s why it’s called Tonggui wine!” Hearing her explanation, Qingyun smiled, seemingly starting to appreciate the wine’s flavor.
“But why pour only half a cup each time?”
“That’s to remind you that life is only half over!” Saying this, Huang Beishuang poured two more cups, then intertwined her cup-holding hand with Qingyun’s. “Cheers!” she said.
Qingyun smiled, and they drank together.
The night deepened, and they continued drinking cup after cup until the clouds obscured the moon.
Then, as usual, they embraced tightly behind the dark green curtains.
However, at this moment, as Qingyun lay on top of her, he displayed an uncharacteristic coldness. He laughed self-mockingly and suddenly asked, “Still not going to tell me? What are you planning to do to me this time?”
Huang Beishuang was stunned, looking into his still-bright eyes with surprise.
“Drinking Ba wine for thirteen years, you don’t know how much blood I’ve vomited. My tongue can no longer taste spiciness,” Qingyun said bitterly, holding her tightly. “Even if poison were added to food and wine, it wouldn’t affect me. Let alone… these few cups of weak wine! What can they do to me? Huang Beishuang, you’ve disappointed me greatly. Did you think I would never get angry?”
He gripped her chin, his fury suddenly erupting, “Tell me! What do you intend to do to me?”
Huang Beishuang had indeed added something to the wine, not poison, but a sleeping drug that would only cause a few hours of unconsciousness. She had taken a gamble, betting that he would drink the wine she offered, and she had won. Watching him drink cup after cup, she won with a heavy heart. But before she could process her conflicted feelings, she had lost, completely and utterly.
“You know I hate poisoned wine the most!” Qingyun pressed down on her fiercely, his lips trembling with anger. “Huang Beishuang, remember this: between us, you won not because you’re clever, not because you scheme, but because I like you, I love you. I’m willing to accept anything you want to do. But…” At this point, his hand gripping her chin almost dug into her flesh, “But I was wrong. Letting you do as you please is hurting me. Perhaps I should learn from Ruo Wen, and take what I want regardless of your thoughts.”
His eyes bloodshot with anger, he tore open her clothes, no longer suppressing the inexplicable hatred and unease in his heart…
Loving you to the point of confusion, wanting you to the point of no end,
Thinking of you with single-minded devotion, hating you to the point of losing my soul!
Why is it always you, why is it forever you?
…
Fen Tian.
At the same time, in the same world, with the same face, different stories unfolded.
For instance, Ge Xinwei, who had rebuilt the Yu Clan’s regime in Fen Tian with Ruo Wen’s tacit approval, and Huang Beishuang, far away in the Ice Thorn Palace of Tiandu, though similar in appearance, had such different life trajectories.
Now, Ge Xinwei was no longer the lowly born Ninth Princess, but the rightful Queen of Fen Tian, ruling alone – a Queen… in an empty palace. In her room, there was no dressing table, no screen, no tea table, no chairs, no calligraphy or decorations, only a bed – the only bed that held memories with Ruo Wen.
She lay on the bed, gazing at the moon outside the window, when suddenly the image of Ruo Lan Feiwen’s face, lost in passion, flashed through her mind. She smiled self-mockingly. Now she couldn’t even compare to Ruo Lan Feiwen, and even after debasing herself to this extent, she still couldn’t keep him.
With a bitter laugh, she looked down at the heartless letter in her hand, tears streaming down her face.
“Boring!”
On a piece of paper, only these two characters were written in a flamboyant style.
Seven days ago, she discovered she was with a child, undoubtedly Ruo Wen’s. She was indescribably happy, firing cannons and lighting fireworks that day, hosting a feast that lasted all night. Then, she sent someone to Ruo Shui to inform Ruo Wen. Seven days later, the messenger returned, bringing back only a piece of paper with two characters – two cold, heartless characters.
Thinking of this, Ge Xinwei’s throat tightened. She, who hadn’t cried even when cremating bodies, now wept on this bed, her sapphire blue eyes gazing forlornly out the window…
God, why take away even a dream?