"……"
So, she was the donkey Ye Qinghua chose?
Hua Chongyang was depressed.
As she approached the back door of the brothel, she absentmindedly tried to push it open, but Ye Qinghua grabbed her arm.
"Double Ninth Festival."
"Um?"
"This is not a simple matter."
Hua Chongyang raised his eyes.
The willows in the alley were lush and green, and Ye Qinghua looked at her with a rare solemn expression.
"The lives of dozens of people in this brothel will henceforth rest entirely on your shoulders. You must shoulder this responsibility. They risk their lives for you, and you must also be responsible for them."
"I see."
"But there's one more thing," Ye Qinghua paused for a long time, then gripped her hand tightly, "It might be heartless to say this, but I still have to tell you."
"……What?"
"No one's life is as important as your own," Ye Qinghua said softly. "Take responsibility for what you can, and for what you can't, your own comfort is the most important thing. Don't believe in any of that nonsense about 'friends' or 'loyalty.' Remember this: if that day ever comes and everyone else in the world dies, you must still live happily. Their deaths are their fate; you just need to take care of yourself."
"……"
After saying that, Ye Qinghua let go of her hand, went into the door first, and left behind the words, "Remember this."
Hua Chongyang stood there for a long time, staring at the half-closed black lacquered door.
Since they met, what Ye Qinghua has taught her has gone beyond the simple word "friend." She has always considered Ye Qinghua a friend, but what does this teaching of her mean for her?
After a while, she came to her senses and silently prepared to go inside. Just as she took a step, a familiar voice came from behind her:
"Miss Chongyang."
Turning around, a figure in grey robes bowed respectfully to her. Hua Chongyang stopped in surprise and turned around:
"...Anping?"
"It is indeed your servant." Anping looked up and smiled, his voice respectful and polite. "Miss, it seems like it's been a long time."
Hua Chongyang was at a loss for words for a moment, and after standing there for a while, he asked:
"Did Lan Wuxie send you?"
"No," Anping said slowly, bowing his head again. "The young master is drunk again and is asleep."
He paused, then sighed softly:
"From last night until today, he has either been sitting in his room or drinking alone on the lake."
Hua Chongyang felt a pang of sadness.
The sun was already setting, and the afterglow of the sunset spilled across the moss-covered stone bricks. She carefully turned to the side, hiding her eyes in the shadows.
Anping glanced at her, then slowly spoke:
"Last night, he personally folded each of your clothes and put them in the closet; after getting drunk, he took them out one by one to look at them, then lit a lamp in the porch and said he would wait for you to come back, and then he lay drunk in the pavilion all night."
A faint light gathered in Hua Chongyang's eyes.
"There's something you should know, young lady. Before this year, the young master almost never stepped out of Lanying Palace, spending his days studying martial arts in seclusion," Anping said softly, his face lowered. "But since he went away for two months four years ago, he's developed a habit of coming to Hangzhou once a year in early spring, always just before the Lantern Festival."
Hua Chongyang was taken aback.
She also had a habit: every year on the Lantern Festival, after everyone was quiet on the night of the Lantern Festival, she would place a lantern by the lake in Shangping Garden and stay there until the lantern went out before returning home alone.
Anping was about to speak when she turned around and interrupted him:
"Stop talking."
Anping shut his mouth and silently lowered his eyes.
Hua Chongyang took a deep breath, closed his eyes slightly, and let a tear fall:
"What's the point of saying all this? Even the best relationship can't compare to physical intimacy; but he slept with me one night and then slept with another woman the next day. What does that mean? What I can't stand the most is two things: someone being nice to me or someone lying to me."
She wiped away her tears, wanting to say something more, but before she could speak, the gate behind her was suddenly pushed open. Ye Laoqi peeked out, and seeing Anping, he didn't even bother to say anything, his face filled with anxiety as he grabbed Hua Chongyang and pulled him into the garden.
"What are you still doing here! Come back with me! Hua Chongyang!"
Hua Chongyang was dragged into the garden, not even having time to say goodbye to Anping, and nearly tripped several times along the way. When they reached Ye Qinghua's building, she suddenly flung her hand away, grabbed her shoulder, and shoved her down forcefully.
"What's wrong! Seventh Brother, what's the matter that's so urgent?"
Ye Laoqi stared at her, initially dumbfounded, then suddenly cried out in a sob:
"Chongyang Festival! Chongyang Festival! The poster—she's dying! She's dying!"
45. Half-drunk behind the curtain
Hua Chongyang froze for a moment, then sprinted upstairs. When she arrived, Ye Qinghua's door was tightly shut. She lunged at it, trying to push it open, but couldn't. Ye Laoqi followed, also throwing himself against the door and beginning to pound on it.
"OP! OP! Open the door! Open the door!"
There was a sound of tables and chairs being overturned inside, and Hua Chongyang heard Ye Qinghua shouting hoarsely from within:
"Get out! Get out of here! All of you, get the hell out of here!"
Her heart clenched.
Unable to get an answer at the door, Ye Laoqi turned around, squatted down, hugged her knees, and began to sob softly. Hua Chongyang grabbed her arm and pulled her up.
"What's going on!?"
"The poster is suffering from a poisoning attack—they've locked themselves inside and won't open the door!"
"What kind of poison?"
"I don't know! I don't know!"
"……"
Hua Chongyang released her, glanced at Ye Laoqi, then at the door, and pounced on it, pounding on the opposite door repeatedly.
"Qinghua! Open the door! Open the door!"
"Get out! Get out of here--uh-ah-ah!"
Ye Qinghua let out a painful scream from inside the room, followed by a clattering sound as she rolled around.
Hua Chongyang felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing this. He paused at the door, took two steps back, and then unleashed a burst of internal energy to kick it.
With a loud bang, the door was kicked open, and Hua Chongyang rushed in. Upon seeing the scene inside, he couldn't help but shudder.
The room was a mess, with tables, chairs, and benches overturned and broken porcelain bottles and cups scattered everywhere. Ye Qinghua, with her hair disheveled, was half-lying on the headboard, hugging the bedpost and banging her head against it repeatedly until her forehead bled profusely, but she refused to stop.
She paused for a moment, then rushed forward and grabbed Ye Qinghua, trying to pull her off the bedpost:
"Ye Qinghua, are you crazy! Are you insane?!"
"Get out—get away—let me die, let me die!"
Ye Qinghua's head and face were covered in blood, but she clung to the bedpost and refused to let go. Hua Chongyang couldn't move her, so he turned around and yelled at Ye Laoqi:
"Come here and pry her hands open!"
Terrified, Ye Laoqi immediately ran over, crying and trying to pry Ye Qinghua's fingers apart, but he couldn't. Hua Chongyang released Ye Qinghua and pulled Ye Laoqi away:
"You hold her off! I'll handle this!"
She was ruthless. She grabbed Ye Qinghua's wrist and twisted her fingers. In a few quick movements, she dragged her off the bedpost, pressed her onto the bed, pulled the quilt over her, and then pounced on her, pinning Ye Qinghua down with Ye Laoqi.
Through two layers of quilts, Ye Qinghua was pressed down, her voice changing from a roar to a plea:
"Let me go! Let me go—Seventh Brother! Chongyang! Let me die! Let me die!—Please…please…let me die…please…"
The stench of blood seeped through the quilt, and the pitiful, fading cries were unbearable to hear; Ye Laoqi pressed down on Ye Qinghua's legs, his own sobs coming in fits and starts as he did so.
"OP...OP...Big sister...you can't die! Hold on...please don't die..."
Half an hour later, Hua Chongyang, who was pressing down on her, gradually became dizzy and disoriented from the smell of blood and the intermittent pleas. His hands and feet were cold and his whole body was trembling.
Ye Qinghua's sobs gradually subsided.
When Ye Laoqi recovered, he couldn't hear Ye Qinghua's voice, stopped sobbing, and shakily touched Hua Chongyang:
"Chongyang Festival, Master..."
Hua Chongyang felt a chill in his heart. He suppressed his fear and slowly raised his hand to lift the blanket, but Ye Laoqi stopped him.
"don't want!"
She turned to look at Ye Laoqi.
Ye Laoqi looked at Hua Chongyang with a trembling voice and tears in his eyes, his fear reaching its peak:
"I...I'm scared...scared..."
"...What are you afraid of?"
Tears streamed down his cheeks. Ye Laoqi buried his face in his hands, his whole body trembling so badly that his voice was incoherent.
"I'm afraid the poster... the poster will end up like... like... like Lanxiang--"
Hua Chongyang shuddered and slowly turned his eyes to look at the quilt.
Ye Qinghua remained silent and had long since stopped struggling.
She propped herself up, her voice trembling, and called out softly:
"...Blue and white porcelain, blue and white porcelain?"
There was silence for a long time.
She paused, then reached for the edge of the blanket and patted it lightly.
"Blue and white porcelain..."
The stalemate continued for an unknown period of time before a weak, intermittent sound finally came from under the blanket:
"I'm alive……"
Hua Chongyang felt a great weight lifted off his shoulders.