Your Majesty - Chapter 106
After a bumpy journey of many days, they finally entered the city and, under He Qinglu's arrangement, the group finally settled into the He residence.
"I never imagined that the Holy Maiden's future husband would be so wealthy." The maid followed behind Pang Wan as she toured the mansion, her admiration lingering on her face. "The Sect Leader has truly found a perfect son-in-law."
Pang Wan secretly stuck out her tongue upon hearing this—it's a pity this son-in-law has such a powerful background, he doesn't want to get involved with the Moon Worship Cult!
After days of travel and exhaustion, most of the people went straight to sleep after washing up. Pang Wan woke up from her afternoon nap and, upon hearing that He Qinglu had gone into the study and hadn't come out, gracefully carried a plate of tangerines to her.
Perhaps everyone was tired, because no one was assigned to guard the study, and she had no trouble getting through.
Upon entering the study, I saw He Qinglu sitting alone at her desk, her amber eyes gazing out the window in a daze.
In the depths of winter, the lotus leaves that once covered the lake with their shimmering blue waves have vanished, leaving only the gentle sound of water lapping against the shore.
"Is it pretty?" Pang Wan squatted down and stuffed a golden tangerine into his hand.
He Qinglu glanced at her, then took her hand and pulled her into his arms, burying his head in her neck and taking a breath.
Pang Wan turned his head and saw a painting spread out on the desk. The painting depicted a galloping steed with nine-colored mane, a snow-white crescent moon on its forehead, and light, graceful hooves. The sand and gravel under its feet turned into rolling clouds and were left behind, as if it were a divine steed descended from the heavens.
The title image reads, "Soaring away like a flying dragon, it cannot even look at the toad," and the inscription reads, "Presented to Jiuhua Qiu by Shan Han."
"I'm sorry." Pang Wan understood his thoughts, buried her face in his chest, and said earnestly.
“Nine-flowered dragon was a gift from my father.” He Qinglu ran her fingers through the black hair behind her head and stroked it casually. “We lived together for fourteen years. My second uncle once said that there was no better horse in the world.”
Since it was said by the Palace Master of the Lonely Palace, who has access to intelligence all over the world, then it must be true.
Pang Wan felt even more guilty and could only mutter, "I'm so sorry..."
He Qinglu patted the back of her head without saying anything.
He was certainly grieving the loss of his beloved horse, but what tormented him even more was the helplessness he felt standing before the tombstone. Family background, wealth, martial arts skills, intelligence—all of it paled in comparison to the threshold of eternal separation between heaven and earth.
Even if he considered himself exceptionally intelligent, he couldn't bring the Nine-Flower Dragon back to life. What if one day, instead of a horse, a person was lying under the tombstone?
Looking at Pang Wan's face full of guilt, his worry deepened.
Seeing that he was staring at her silently, Pang Wan quickly raised her hands in surrender: "Just tell me what you want me to do to make you happier?"
He Qinglu was taken aback, then curled his lips into a malicious smile: "Why don't you go to the lotus pond and perform 'The Maiden Picking Lotus' again?" He still remembered her fair cheeks, jade-like hands, and smiling face full of spring in the sunlight.
Pang Wan pouted when he teased her about her absurdity again: "Where are there lotus flowers now? You'd be more likely to make me jump down and dig for lotus roots."
He Qinglu was naturally reluctant to part with her, so he just sighed and stared blankly into her dark almond-shaped eyes.
"Don't be sad, I'll get you a better horse, okay?" Pang Wan was getting anxious when he didn't speak. "I'll definitely get you the best steed. If I can't, I'll be your horse to ride..."
Suddenly realizing something was wrong, she instinctively covered her mouth, and the rouge instantly stained her neck and ear tips.
He Qinglu narrowed her eyes.
Pang Wan sensed the danger and tried to push him away by jumping up, but her waist was firmly held by someone.
A tender, delicate kiss landed on her as he lowered his head to nibble at her, savoring her like biting into a freshly picked peach, eager to absorb all its sweetness.
"Wanwan." He had never called her name so tenderly before, his voice hoarse and moving. "Let's get married as soon as possible, we must get married as soon as possible."
Pang Wan responded vaguely, surprised by his sudden urgency.
Chapter 63: Spring Breeze Caresses the Balustrade, Dew is Heavy (Part 1)
When I was six years old, a renowned bone reader told my parents that I would become a beauty rarely seen in the world.
I still remember my parents' expressions at the time—my father was overjoyed, but my mother seemed quite worried.
I asked my mother, "Mom, why are you unhappy? Isn't it good to be beautiful?"
Wiping away her tears, the mother replied, "My son, think about it. In the legends of the past, what was the fate of those peerless beauties? They were burned, strangled, or abandoned in the wilderness, and they had to bear the infamy for all eternity!"
I thought of Su Daji and Yang Yuhuan, and immediately nodded solemnly.
Seeing how sensible I was, my mother hugged me tightly and sobbed, "My dear child, listen to your mother. Marry a rich man who has no ambition, stay at home every day, and don't go out."
From then on, I became determined to marry a rich but unambitious man.
Time flies, and by the time I officially came of age, my reputation had already spread far and wide—this is no exaggeration at all. The people who came to my house to ask for my hand in marriage came from as far away as Jizhou, which is no less than four hundred miles away from the capital!
Oh, I forgot to mention, I was born into a well-off family in a suburban county of Beijing. My father was a traditional Chinese medicine doctor who ran a small clinic.
So when I was fifteen, I spent a long time on arranged marriages—the suitors sat in the main hall, and my mother had someone put a brocade handkerchief in front of me so that I could see them from a distance.
The questions my parents asked the suitors were always the same few: their parents' hometown, their love of learning, and what kind of business they did for a living. To be honest, back then, those who came to propose marriage had at least considered my financial situation. While none of them were extremely wealthy, they could at least ensure I had enough to eat and wear. So, the last question was the one I cared about most.
The mother would ask the suitor, "What is your lifelong ideal?"
The answers were naturally varied and bizarre, ranging from those who had become top scholars in the imperial examinations to those who had become extremely wealthy, to those who had been promoted to high-ranking positions, and to those who had mastered unparalleled martial arts skills.
Many talented young people stumbled on this question.
They naturally assumed that the answer should be as grand and magnificent as possible, but they never imagined that my mother and I only wanted two words: "peace and safety".
Beautiful women are considered trouble, but I want to stay away from this rule; I don't want to become a source of trouble.
A year has passed in the blink of an eye, and I have turned sixteen, but my ideal man has yet to appear.
This is not surprising. In this dog-eat-dog world, most rich people are ambitious, while those without ambition are mostly poor. It is often difficult to find someone who is rich but without ambition.
Just when I was almost in despair, He Shaoxin appeared. He was like a bolt of lightning, striking me with lightning speed and illuminating my future.