Hua Chongyang looked at Situ Qingliu, momentarily surprised. The affection in Situ Qingliu's eyes was so blatant; even if she were blind, she should be able to see it. Just as she was wondering how to speak, Ji Feixiang stepped out from behind Ji Chong and interjected with a cold laugh:
"Your Highness, I heard that the engagement that Prince Ningjing and Bo Feng, the leader of the Lingmen Sect, arranged for you and Miss Bo Jiang specifically required the 'Yellow Spring Martial Arts Technique' and the 'Azure Sky Heart Sutra' as betrothal gifts. Did you say this to protect Hua Chongyang, or are you afraid that Miss Bo Jiang's betrothal gifts will end up in Lan Ying Palace?"
Situ Qingliu raised an eyebrow slightly, smiled, and looked up, but instead of looking at Ji Feixiang, his gaze was fixed on Hua Chongyang:
"Miss Ji, you need not concern yourself with what I wish to say."
"Naturally, it's not my place to ask," Ji Feixiang said, putting her hands behind her back and slowly walking around to Hua Chongyang and Situ Qingliu's side. Her eyes swept over the two of them, and she slowly raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I heard that the young master Situ is infatuated with Hua Chongyang, is that true? I just wonder if Hua Chongyang is so foolish as to be willing to become your concubine and even offer the Azure Heaven Heart Sutra as your betrothal gift when you marry your principal wife?"
"Thank you so much for your concern, Miss Ji." Situ Qingliu smiled, standing before Hua Chongyang, his eyes slightly lowered. "Miss Chongyang, I have been rude. Qingliu is indeed already engaged. I know you are the kind of person who cannot tolerate infidelity. So… even if I am deeply in love, I'm afraid such feelings—"
His smiling gaze was as gentle as the morning sunlight, yet it carried a faint sadness.
"I'm afraid such affection can only be considered a stain on you."
For a moment, Hua Chongyang felt a pang of reluctance. She had first met Situ Qingliu at the martial arts tournament, and from that first encounter, she sensed a difference in his feelings for her. At that time, she had only assumed he wanted to get close to her to obtain the Biluo Heart Sutra—but now, if it was merely for the Biluo Heart Sutra, the effort he had gone to was far too deep. Awkwardly avoiding his gaze, she whispered:
"In any case, Chongyang thanks the Crown Prince."
She paused, then added in a low voice:
"But Chongyang already has someone she loves. She has failed the prince's good intentions."
Situ Qingliu's expression froze for a moment, then he gave a wry smile. His gaze, which had been fixed on Hua Chongyang, was slightly averted, and he lowered his eyes. Several people in the hall looked over simultaneously. Ji Chong frowned, his expression showing surprise first.
"Chongyang, you already have someone you love?"
Chongyang smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Uncle Ji."
Who is it?
"Uncle Ji will find out another day."
Ji Chong frowned again, glanced at Situ Qingliu, then looked at Hua Chongyang, his laughter tinged with embarrassment.
"It seems you've all really grown up. When are you going to bring you over so I can meet you? Anything is fine, just don't be like—"
Ji Chong stopped talking, looked at Hua Chongyang again, and sighed softly:
"As long as you're doing well, your mother's love from heaven won't have been in vain. Don't let her worry about you."
Hua Chongyang listened silently, and at the end, he chuckled softly:
"Thank you for your concern, Uncle Ji. But I don't think it's so bad if she really looks like my mother. Everyone says my mother had a tragic and miserable life, and that she was beautiful but died young, but I don't think so."
She looked up at Ji Chong, her tone suddenly becoming serious and gentle:
"The world laughed at her for being foolish, but she laughed at the world for being naive. Even on her deathbed, my mother said she had no regrets about falling in love with Yan Zhao. She said, 'The world is vast, but how many people can truly abandon worldly conventions and wander the world with the one they truly love?'"
Ji Chong's expression immediately changed.
Ji Chong was deeply in love with Hua Chuxue, and the two were already engaged. However, Hua Chuxue ultimately abandoned Ji Chong and eloped with Yan Zhao, a fact known to everyone in the martial arts world. Ji Feixiang noticed her father's unusual expression and felt her parents had been insulted. Enraged, she drew her sword and pointed it at Hua Chongyang.
"Hua Chongyang, you're going to follow your mother's example and disregard all propriety. Aren't you afraid of being ridiculed by the world?"
The sword energy swept towards Hua Chongyang with a chilling aura. Ji Chongyang snapped out of his daze and shouted, "Stop!" With that shout, Hua Chongyang raised his eyebrows slightly, turned around, drew the sword from Pin Lan's body, flicked his wrist, and sent the sword in Ji Feixiang's hand flying out of the hall.
The hall fell silent. In the dim afternoon sunlight, only Hua Chongyang's slender, somewhat frail figure was visible. The sword tip was an inch from Ji Feixiang's neck. After a long while, she let out a soft, cold laugh:
"Who I, Hua Chongyang, like is none of anyone else's business. Whether the world laughs at me or not, what does it matter to me? But what I hate most in this life is people talking badly about my mother."
The thin sword flashed like light, and Ji Feixiang dodged backward, the sword's edge following closely. Hua Chongyang slightly pursed his lips, shifting his feet. In a moment of urgency, Ji Chong reached out and grabbed Hua Chongyang's wrist, calling out in a low voice, "Chongyang!"
The sword tip stopped just short of Ji Feixiang's neck, severing a lock of black hair that drifted to the ground. Ji Chong's hand was still a foot away from Hua Chongyang's wrist. Hua Chongyang, still holding his sword, glanced at Ji Chong:
"Uncle Ji, I will not harm Fei Xiang; even if I have to force my way onto the pleasure boat before dusk today, I will keep my promise and deliver the invitation to Lan Wuxie. My mother said before she died that the person she wronged most in her life was you. I am doing this not for Ji Fei Xiang, nor for Senior Brother Rong, but for my mother."
After saying this, Hua Chongyang flicked his wrist.
With a clang, the longsword fell to the ground. She cupped her hands in greeting, turned, and walked out of the hall.
The hall remained silent. Watching the solitary figure walk away, Situ Qingliu, who had stood silently for a long time, turned back and bowed slightly before turning away as well.
"Pinlan, let's go back too."
23. Shangping Garden
On the long street outside Lake Moon Villa, Hua Chongyang stopped and turned around.
A dozen steps away, Situ Qingliu also stopped, but the ever-present gentle smile on his face was gone. Through the gaps in the crowd, the early spring breeze could be seen rising and falling, causing strands of hair at his temples to sway and brush against his cheeks. Situ Qingliu was also draped in a snow-white fox fur coat, the thick, soft fur clinging to his thin, handsome face, further emphasizing his noble elegance. From afar, he resembled a finely carved, warm, and beautiful piece of jade.
Involuntarily, the image of Zu Xian flashed through Hua Chongyang's mind. In the half-curtained pavilion, he was wrapped in a fox fur coat and leaned back in a chair. His fair face, snow-white fox fur coat, and plain white silk inner garment were the only features. His thick, ink-black hair was scattered loosely over his shoulders, and his long, narrow, dark eyes were always slightly raised, seemingly looking into the distance in a daze. The fox fur coat wrapped around his body in a mess highlighted a fleeting fragility on his face.
One is a crown prince, the other a wicked doctor; one is gentle and refined, the other is as cold as ice water; one is handsome and otherworldly, the other is plain-looking. By any measure, they are two incomparable individuals.
Just a few days ago, before she had even confessed to Zu Xian, she was having dinner with Uncle Fu in the Flower Garden. While eating her rice, she was lost in thought when she suddenly looked up at Uncle Fu and asked, "Uncle Fu, what kind of person do you think I'll marry?"
Uncle Fu was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and put some food on her plate, saying:
"You want to get married?"
"……No."
"Why are you suddenly bringing this up?"
"...Well," Hua Chongyang stammered, "I just suddenly remembered."
She dared not admit that Zu Xian had been on her mind at that moment. Uncle Fu's eyes were so sharp; he could see the coming of autumn from a single leaf. Who knew what he might have discerned?
Uncle Fu smiled, ate a couple of bites of food, and then slowly said:
"Any kind of person is fine. As long as you like them. However..."
Hua Chongyang stopped eating with his chopsticks, then asked, "But what?"
"Your Aunt Fu once said that when you get married, you must find someone with a gentle temperament who truly loves and cares for you. Ideally, he should also be able to protect you."
"Uncle Fu, where can you find such a good man?"
Uncle Fu continued eating, his eyes slightly narrowed as he smiled.
"No, not really. But I think that young master Situ who came a few days ago will probably be quite popular with your Aunt Fu."
It turns out that not only Ye Qinghua, but also Fu Bo had long seen through Situ Qingliu's thoughts.
...However, she happened to fall in love with Zu Xian.
Whether it was the Zu Xian under the dim light, the Zu Xian slightly tipsy in the pavilion, the Zu Xian who pricked him with a poisoned needle in the snow, or the Zu Xian who was afraid of bitter medicine... none of them seemed like someone who would take care of others. Even the braid he so gently combed for her, when looked in the mirror, was crooked and unsightly.
Coming back to her senses, Hua Chongyang sighed softly. In that brief moment of distraction, Situ Qingliu was already standing in front of her, looking into her eyes, and suddenly asked:
What kind of person is he?
"……Um?"
"You were even smiling while you were lost in thought just now."
Hua Chongyang couldn't help but reach up and touch the corner of her mouth. Sure enough, it was slightly upturned, something she hadn't even noticed herself.
Seeing her surprised and embarrassed expression, Situ Qingliu smiled slightly and lowered his eyes:
"When I was little, my nanny would take me for walks in the garden, and occasionally I would see my father sitting alone under the swing set, lost in thought and smiling. Whenever I saw this, I would quietly walk away, because if I disturbed him, he would definitely frown."
As he spoke, Situ Qingliu gently raised his arm to shield her:
"careful."
The street was bustling with activity when a sedan chair passed by them. Situ Qingliu carefully used his arm to separate Hua Chongyang from the crowd, subtly shielding her further inside. He paused, then said:
"It wasn't until much later that I realized he was actually thinking of his mother at that time."
The afternoon sun was bright and warm, and a faint breeze blew through the air. Situ Qingliu turned his head, his empty gaze merging into the endless distance. Although there was no sound, Hua Chongyang could feel a silent sorrow slowly settling in the wind. The bright sunlight fell on his face. After a long while, he turned back, looked down at Hua Chongyang, and smiled slightly:
"Because lately, when I'm alone and have some free time, I tend to drift off into my own thoughts, and when I come back to my senses, I always find myself smiling."
The air seemed to stand still.
Even though she already knew Situ Qing liked her, and even though she also knew she liked Zu Xian, Hua Chongyang felt a sudden tightness in her chest. She lowered her eyes, unable to look at Situ Qingliu any longer, desperately trying to decide whether to find an excuse to leave or say something to ruin the atmosphere and change the subject. But before she could say anything, Situ Qingliu spoke almost inaudibly above her head:
"When my mind wanders, all I can think about is you."
Hua Chongyang had no idea how to react and just stared blankly with his head down.
It would be a lie to say she wasn't moved at all. In her eighteen or nineteen years of life, this was the first time someone had confessed their love to her in such a gentle way. The sun shone brightly all around, people came and went, but in that instant, everything seemed to fall silent, leaving only herself and Situ Qingliu before her… plus a touch of guilt and unease in her heart. After a long while, Hua Chongyang turned her head and managed to utter a single sentence:
"...Your Highness, I don't actually dislike you, it's just—"
only……
She always felt a pang of sympathy for the man gazing at the distant snow, his face blank and indifferent. She wasn't sure if that pity counted as love, but every time she thought of him, every time she felt that pity for him, she wanted to hold him and wipe away the blankness on his face; she imagined sitting with him in the quiet of the night, bathed in the red glow of the mist, leaning against each other by the brazier, slowly sipping warm wine. If she were to never see him again, never be able to be with him again, she would feel a pang of reluctance. He was alone, half-drunk, so lonely and cold…
Does this kind of heartache count as liking someone?
And so, in the ensuing silence, Situ Qinglu smiled faintly:
"I see."
Hua Chongyang looked up at him.
"It's getting late. You must be tired. Let me take you home." Situ Qingliu said as he walked away, leaving with a wry smile, adding, "I guess I'm a step too late."
The two walked one after the other, keeping a half-step distance, through the crowd, with Pin Lan following at a distance. They walked straight to the end of Anyang Street, stopping at the entrance of the alley leading to Huajian Garden. Situ Qingliu stopped and smiled.
"I'll leave it here."
Hua Chongyang stopped in his tracks, lowered his eyes, and whispered goodbye:
"...Well then, farewell, Your Highness."
"Don't go looking for Lan Wuxie," Situ Qingliu suddenly added, "It's too dangerous."
Hua Chongyang stopped in his tracks, lowered his eyes, and turned his head away:
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Uncle Fu was sitting in the courtyard.
There was a stone table and stone benches; he had added a chair between the benches, and a pot of hot tea sat on the table. Hearing Hua Chongyang enter, he slowly turned his head, his eyes slightly narrowed.
"You're back?"
"Um."
Hua Chongyang responded and walked to the table. She reached out and touched the cold stone bench, abandoning the idea of sitting on it, and instead leaned against the stone table. There were two teacups. She picked up the teapot and filled Fu Bo's cup with tea, then poured one for herself, holding it in her hands as she drank, lost in thought.
When she came to her senses, she met Fu Bo's slightly narrowed eyes and was startled: