As night deepened, white candles flickered with a faint glow, their light filtering through the pure white gauze curtains, casting shadows of two graceful figures within.
Xie Qingyao, being a young lady, was not required to keep vigil through the night. When the time came, Xie Yinlou had someone escort her down, and Jiang Si was to share her bed tonight.
It had been a long time since either Xie Qingyao or Jiang Si had slept alongside one another.
Jiang Si listened as Xie Qingyao tossed and turned like a pancake being flipped, her own heart equally tormented.
Unable to reveal the truth to her friend, she could only silently vow to help the Xie siblings to the best of her ability in the future.
This was the price of her rashness.
Reincarnation, it seemed, was a double-edged sword. She was just an ordinary girl; having died so miserably and unjustly in her previous life, how could she be certain that this life would be smooth sailing?
In her heart, Jiang Si apologized to Xie Qingyao countless times. Each time her friend tossed and turned, it felt like a blade cutting across her heart.
The pain was etched deep into her bones.
Jiang Si lay motionless with her eyes closed when suddenly, the person beside her sat up abruptly and lifted the bed curtain.
Only then did she open her eyes to look at Xie Qingyao, her voice as gentle as water: “Qingyao, can’t you sleep?”
Xie Qingyao sat wrapped in her quilt, clutching the thin brocade tightly, large tears rolling down from the corners of her eyes.
Jiang Si sat up and placed her hand on Xie Qingyao’s shoulder.
“Asi, I can’t sleep…” Xie Qingyao’s shoulders trembled slightly, and her voice choked, “Every time I close my eyes, I see Father and Mother. One moment it’s Mother covered in blood, the next it’s Father collapsing. I simply don’t dare to close my eyes—”
Jiang Si gently patted Xie Qingyao’s back: “It will pass, believe me, it will surely pass.”
Xie Qingyao stared blankly as tears flowed: “Asi, I can’t understand it. My father only took two concubines when my mother was pregnant, which is quite common in other families. He neither favored concubines over his wife nor neglected his children. He was warm to relatives and kind to servants. My mother was equally virtuous. So why did they die so tragically? What wrong did they commit?”
Xie Qingyao covered her face and wept bitterly.
Outside the window, a clump of banana trees swayed gently, their leaves a fresh green in the moonlight.
A majestic large dog stood with its ears perked, listening to the sobs coming from within the room, its face full of expression.
With the Marquis of Yongchang’s household busy with funeral arrangements and crowded with people, it had been easy for Erniu to slip in unnoticed.
“Asi, why? Why did this happen?” Xie Qingyao murmured.
She wasn’t seeking an answer from Jiang Si; the sudden tragedy had left this once innocent girl unable to accept the reality of her parent’s death, desperately searching for a reason.
Jiang Si finally couldn’t hold back: “Qingyao, it’s all my fault. I’ve wronged you.”
Xie Qingyao’s light brown eyes flickered, staring blankly at Jiang Si: “Asi, what are you saying?”
Jiang Si struggled to control her urge to flee, meeting Xie Qingyao’s clear, glass-like eyes as she confessed: “Douniang hadn’t planned to act now, but she chose this time because she heard about your father’s sleepwalking condition. And the diagnosis of your father’s sleepwalking was because… because I reminded you to pay attention to your father’s health at that time…”
Jiang Si felt increasingly guilty as she spoke, her fingers turning white from clenching: “Qingyao, I’ve wronged you. If I hadn’t spoken out of turn, your father and mother wouldn’t have died—”
Xie Qingyao listened silently, forgetting even to blink.
Having said this, Jiang Si felt a sense of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted.
If Qingyao hated her, she would accept it. At least she couldn’t accept the other’s trust and gratitude with a clear conscience.
After a long while, Xie Qingyao blinked, coming back to her senses: “Asi, what does my parents’ death have to do with you? If we follow your logic, then I shouldn’t have urged Mother to call a physician for Father, nor should I have brought Douniang into the household because of my greed for her snacks. And the gossip who spread the news of Father’s sleepwalking to Douniang’s ears should be cut into a thousand pieces…”
“But Qingyao—”
Xie Qingyao shook her head, stopping Jiang Si from continuing: “Asi, though I’m heartbroken, I’m not confused. There are no ‘what ifs’ in this world. No matter how much I blame myself, I understand that Douniang and the Chief Steward are the ones who truly deserve to die. One is a murderer with a heart as venomous as a scorpion, the other an evil spirit who led people into the abyss. They are the ones who truly deserve death.”
Jiang Si opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.
What Xie Qingyao said wasn’t wrong. If she didn’t know the drastically different outcomes of the previous life and this one, she wouldn’t have taken the responsibility upon herself either.
“Asi—”
“Hmm?”
“Wouldn’t it be better if married couples in this world only had each other for life?” Xie Qingyao hugged her knees, gazing wistfully at the moonlight filtering through the gossamer-thin window screen.
If it were so, her parents would surely have grown old together, surrounded by children and grandchildren.
“Yes, indeed.” Jiang Si murmured in agreement, her thoughts drifting far away.
By then, she had already become the Seventh Prince’s consort. Partly to appear magnanimous and to test him, she had brought up the matter of concubines.
Prince Yu immediately frowned, saying he could barely manage to serve her alone, where would he find the energy to deal with other women? He told her to forget about such notions and not to anger him needlessly.
Hearing this, she felt comforted but ultimately didn’t believe it.
Even marrying her had involved both coaxing and trickery; how could she fully trust anything else?
Sometimes, thinking back, it seemed only natural that they hadn’t ended up together. They had hidden so much from each other, and from the very beginning, their marriage had been burdened with too many complications. Even if she hadn’t died tragically later, it probably wouldn’t have ended happily.
Xie Qingyao slowly lay down, speaking softly: “Asi, if I can’t find such a person in the future, I won’t marry. I’m afraid…”
Xie Qingyao was indeed exhausted, both mentally and physically. Once she had released her emotions, she quickly fell into a deep sleep, her breathing becoming even.
Jiang Si stared blankly at the canopy for a long while before closing her eyes.
The next morning at dawn, Jiang Si was the first to open her eyes. Seeing Xie Qingyao still fast asleep, she gently shook her head at the maids who came in to attend to their morning routines: “Let the Young Miss sleep a while longer, otherwise she won’t last through the day.”
As the only daughter of the Marquis of Yongchang’s household, Xie Qingyao would have to kneel before her parents’ spirits during the day to receive mourners. If she were to endure a full day of this, even the strongest body would struggle. Sleeping a bit more now was a way to conserve her energy.
After washing up, Jiang Si sat on the embroidered stool by the bed, lost in thought, when suddenly she heard a faint sound from the window.
Jiang Si slowly turned her gaze toward the window, catching a familiar scent.
Erniu?
Jiang Si almost instinctively glanced at the still-sleeping Xie Qingyao before quickly walking to the window and gently pushing it open.
Fresh air rushed in, carrying the scent of morning dew.
The large dog had its front paws on the windowsill, looking pitifully at its mistress.
Erniu was hungry.