The Lonely City Closed - Chapter 130
With his wide sleeves billowing in the wind and his scarf fluttering, Feng Jing, still panting, did not stop for a moment. He ran swiftly along the water's edge, chasing after the distant dragon boat that was drifting into the clouds and water—his vague target.
Having learned from the monk when she would be traveling north by boat, he thought he could remain indifferent. He deliberately invited two friends to a beautiful spot with fine wine, where they drank, played drinking games, and composed poems. Laughter filled the air as he leaned against the railing, seemingly forgetting everything about her. Just then, a courtesan began to play the pipa, singing sweetly: "Green mountains of Wu, green mountains of Yue, green mountains on both banks facing each other, who knows the sorrow of parting? Your tears are full, my tears are full, the knot of our hearts remains untied, the tide on the river has already subsided."
The tide on the riverbank has subsided.
His smile froze, his mind was in turmoil, and the temperature of the gold bracelet in his arms seemed to rise suddenly, scorching near his heart.
The woman who understood him best in the world was about to leave him again. Would this separation mean another ten years passing between them? Or would he never see her again?
He suddenly stood up, and without explaining a word to his friend, ran towards where the boat was going.
The ship she was on had already set sail, and he ran wildly along the shore in the direction it was heading. What was he trying to do? He was drunk and didn't have time to think much; he just ran as fast as he could, trying to shorten the distance between them as quickly as possible.
His hem brushed against the orchids and irises on the bank, his slippers touched the water plants in the water, and he pushed aside the reeds and rushes, letting his clothes get soaked by the white dew. He even waded through the water, going upstream to follow her, but she still drifted further and further away, slowly floating towards the center of the water.
Watching the painted boat carrying her and the bright spring scenery he had perceived that year disappear into the distance, he finally collapsed to the ground, lying deep among the reeds and willows. He looked blankly at the faded blue sky in his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted.
When he regained consciousness, there was a chorus of frogs, and the moon was high in the sky above the willows. Someone approached him with a lantern, illuminating his face with its light.
Feng Jing frowned, shielding his eyes slightly with his hand, and opened his sleepy eyes a little, vaguely recognizing a woman's figure in front of him.
Is it her? He thought vaguely, trying to see more clearly, but the light was too bright, and waves of lingering drunkenness washed over him, making it difficult to even lift his eyelids.
The white dew clung to his clothes, and the chill seeped to his bones. He felt cold, and then vaguely sensed the desolation and loneliness of the place. He couldn't help but reach out towards the light source, as if trying to grasp that warm orange-yellow hue.
The woman was leaning down to examine him closely, so close that he could feel her breath on his face—a sweet, youthful scent.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, which was holding the lantern. Her skin was smooth and delicate, and she had the warmth he needed. He pulled hard, and the woman cried out in surprise. The lantern fell to the ground and went out, and she fell into his arms.
He held her tightly, as if both seeking warmth from her and wanting to lock her in his embrace. She struggled fiercely, writhing like a deer caught in a trap. This intense action, along with the lingering effects of the wine in his stomach, strangely aroused his desire. His skin burned, his blood surged, and he pressed her down on his side. She did not yield, trying with all her might to push him away and get up. Thus, they tumbled together in the reeds, startling two or three gulls perched nearby.
The sound of birds fluttering their wings and taking flight startled the woman for a moment. At that moment, Feng Jing had already embraced her head and slender waist, lowered his head and blinked at her face, letting his eyelashes gently brush back and forth on her cheek.
She was struck dumb, her whole body trembled, she stopped moving and surrendered without resistance.
His lips slid across her smooth face, savoring the sweet fragrance of her full lips, before kissing his way down to her neck and shoulder. He gently held a patch of skin there, his lips and teeth mingling, and with his eyes closed, he seemed to see a rainbow of colors. Behind a red gauze curtain, a woman turned her head slightly, her posture as elegant as a swan, the fragrance of orchids emanating from her sleeves and hair.
The Lonely City Closes (The Princess Who Fell in Love with the Eunuch) Side Story: Feng Jing's Chapter - Drunken Flower Shade (4)
Chapter word count: 3596 Update time: 08-08-21 17:25
4. Yuan Yuan
She looked to be seventeen or eighteen, but she could also be fifteen or sixteen.
She had a well-proportioned figure and a beautiful posture like a young girl, but her eyes were clear as water, and her expression and behavior still had a childlike quality, making her seem not much older than a young woman in her prime.
Her skin was delicate, but not fair; it must have been exposed to sunlight for long periods, giving it a honey-like color.
Her skin was firm and smooth, but her palms were rough and calloused, probably from doing heavy work.
She had long, jet-black hair, but it was casually tied into two loose buns, making it look unkempt with several strands falling out.
Her clothes were rough, heavy, and dark in color, and didn't fit her well; they were probably altered from someone else's old clothes.
She was barefoot, sitting on the ground with her ankles exposed, where there were several mosquito bite marks on her skin.
She was clearly from a poor family, but that didn't seem to stop her from living happily. At that moment, she held a few reeds with ears of grain in her hand, swatting away the mosquitoes and flies around her from left to right, while softly humming a lullaby.
It seemed that last night's events hadn't affected her good mood. If she were a prostitute, this wouldn't be surprising, but... she was clearly a virgin before.
This is why Feng Jing felt extremely embarrassed and guilty after regaining consciousness. So even though he had already woken up, he did not immediately sit up to talk to her. He remained in a sleeping position, only slightly opening his eyes, and quietly observing the girl he had offended in the gradually brightening morning light.
She didn't seem to dislike him because of this. Most of the mosquitoes and flies she swatted away were near him.
A tiny mosquito landed on his chin, and her reed whisk immediately flew over, the reed tip brushing past his nose, causing Feng Jing to sneeze.
I had no choice but to open my eyes, and I was immediately met with her bright gaze.
"You're awake?" she asked, leaning down, her large eyes even showing joy.
He had no choice but to sit up, lower his head, and not dare to look at her for a long time. After a long silence, he finally said, "May I ask your name, young lady?"
"Hmm?" She was taken aback and did not answer.
So he changed his approach: "What's your name?"
“Oh,” she understood, and replied with a smile, “My surname is Wang, and my given name is Yuanyuan.”
"How do I write it?" he asked politely, bowing slightly.
"Write?" She stared at him in astonishment, as if she had heard an unbelievable question, then burst out laughing. "I don't know! I can't write a single word."
"Then," he asked again, "why did your family give you this name?"
She quickly gave the answer: "Because my father likes gold ingots—even though he has never touched a real one."
So, her name is "Yuanyuan". Feng Jing pondered, picked up a twig, and wrote the two characters on the ground.
The girl looked at him and asked, "Is this how my name is written?"
He did not answer immediately, but looked up at the misty clouds and clear water in front of him, and then added three water radicals to the left of each character.
“Yuan Yuan,” he murmured to her, “from now on, write your name like this.”
She happily touched the writing on the damp earth with her fingers, learning each stroke carefully. Then she asked for his name, and he told her, writing it down as well. She continued learning, smiling, murmuring, "Feng... Jing... Jing..."