Chapter 57

Withered branches sway in the chill wind, and the ground is blanketed in gold.

A young gentleman of unfamiliar face wears a round-collared brocade robe and leather boots, his ink-wash wide-sleeved outer garment bunched at his elbows. Even in the bitter cold, he still twirls an unopened folding fan, exuding the elegant and carefree demeanor of a cool breeze reflecting the moon.

Especially when those clear, bright eyes gaze in a particular direction, they reveal an earnest and competitive intensity.

"This humble person has never laid eyes on a woman as fair as the lady before me."

Encouraged by his unsparing praise, the woman beside the silk-canopied carriage arches her slender, willow-like brows. A natural flush rises across her porcelain-smooth, delicate skin, making her look like a shy bride awaiting marriage, utterly unable to withstand the slightest tease.

Qingwu lifts her chin, pressing her lips together into a smile that seems to chase away the early winter chill.

With a playful hook of her lips, she asks, "May I ask the young master's honorable surname?"

As she speaks, a stray lock of hair dances in the autumn breeze, carrying with it a faint, elusive fragrance—a picture of effortless grace and allure.

An Qi, terrified that Qingwu might blurt out something inappropriate, instinctively wants to separate the two of them, his hands trembling nervously inside his sleeves.

The young man does not stand overly close; he maintains a distance of a few paces as he chats with the dazzling woman seated by the carriage.

He seems like an itinerant immortal wandering through mountains and rivers, fluent in everything from the local customs of various lands to the finest cosmetic powders used by women.

Qingwu is deeply captivated by his tales, and the two converse with great pleasure, their comfortable laughter ringing out repeatedly.

Xi Zhi and Xi Xing, fearing that rash intervention would draw too much attention, linger hesitatingly in the shadows.

The morning market street is rarely graced by young men and women of such striking appearance; the upright young gentleman is as handsome as jade in the wind, while the gentle, refined woman seated by the carriage creates a scene of bizarre harmony and magnetic appeal.

Pei Muci gathers the brown paper parcel wrapped by the shopkeeper, smooths out the wrinkles pressed into his robe, and turns around just in time to see the girl who has been listless toward him for the past two days now laughing and chatting merrily with a well-matched young man—a stark contrast to her usual cold detachment on the carriage.

His expression shifts slightly. His customarily composed pace grows somewhat hurried, stepping forward with long strides as if he desperately wishes to fly back to the side of the carriage.

Seeing him approach, Qingwu stops talking. She leans the upper half of her body backward, resting lazily against the edge of the carriage shaft. Like a pure white epiphyllum blooming in the dark of night, her posture is graceful and alluring, yet her face remains expressionless, as if bathed in a noble golden glow that involuntarily elevates her status.

"What were you talking about?" Pei Muci’s voice betrays no anomaly, remaining as steady and elegant as ever.

He walks straight toward them, and without waiting for either of them to offer an explanation, he wraps one arm around Qingwu’s waist and lifts her upward with a gentle surge of strength, pulling her directly into the carriage compartment.

"What are you doing?"

Qingwu’s waist is encircled by a powerful arm, rendering her instantly immobile.

She strikes his back and shoulders with all her might, but his tall figure completely envelops her, leaving no room for resistance. Under such a disparity of strength, tears instantly well up in her eyes. She curls her lower lip, gazing at the man with a pitiful expression like a caged bird awaiting rescue.

"Hey! You are thoroughly unreasonable!" the young man rebukes angrily. "What kind of gentleman bullies a young maiden in broad daylight!"

This is his jurisdiction, yet someone actually dares to force a common woman into submission in the streets.

Even though the man on the carriage exudes an intimidating aura, who in Quanzhou could possibly outrank him?

Hearing these words, Pei Muci’s phoenix eyes grow dark and deep as the night.

He lowers his gaze slowly, and as he turns, he inadvertently reveals the jade pendant previously concealed by his heavy cloak.

When the young man catches sight of that dragon-patterned jade pendant, his right eyelid begins to twitch violently. He quickly raises his hands in a salute, saying, "This humble official is the Prefect of Quanzhou. I came out this morning to inspect the populace and did not intend to offend the lady. I beg the young master not to take offense."

He knows full well that the newly ascended Emperor is bound to pass through Quanzhou on his return journey from Quanzhou to the capital, and calculating the dates, it should be within these few days.

The entire prefectural yamen has been bustling about, sweeping everything pristine clean in anticipation of hosting a banquet that very evening.

Never had he imagined that they would arrive ahead of schedule, and that he would commit such an outrageous blunder.

It is rare indeed to encounter a woman of such striking beauty, and at twenty-four years of age, guarding the empty prefectural yamen day after day has proven truly desolate.

Yet he has also heard that the young Son of Heaven about to ascend the throne of the capital is as yet unmarried.

Could this perhaps be the Emperor’s own sister?

Pei Muci casts a cold glance at the man before him.

He fails to understand how someone with such poor judgment as Gu Hanjiang could ever appoint a man of such dense intellect to serve as Prefect of Quanzhou.

Still, Pei Muci cannot afford to disregard Gu Hanjiang’s face; besides, the man he is truly angry with is not this local official.

Seeing that both occupants have taken their seats inside the carriage, An Qi politely declines the accommodation offered by the utterly clueless prefect, gives the reins a gentle flick, and steers the carriage along the roadside to survey the fine-looking shops.

"Do you know him?" Pei Muci arranges the freshly purchased pastries and pushes them toward Qingwu.

He keeps his eyes fixed on Qingwu as he asks, unwilling to miss even a flicker of emotion passing across her face.

"I do not." Qingwu merely gazes indifferently at the pastries on the plate, making no move to pick one up.

The former Prefect of Quanzhou was originally a white-haired elder who had repeatedly begged the Emperor to let him retire and return to his hometown, requests denied solely because of his sterling reputation.

In less than a year, this place has actually replaced him with such a youthful prefect.

Qingwu knows that after a dynastic change, those loyal to the new regime are heavily favored, and whenever she beholds unfamiliar people and objects all around her, a lingering sense of unease and sorrow inevitably stirs within.

Yet at this very moment, Pei Muci continues to hound her about chatting and laughing with another man.

"Then does he know you?" Pei Muci knows that Qingwu was once deeply cherished in the capital; his earlier anxiety stemmed not only from her deliberately chatting with another man to anger him, but more so from the fear that someone who had previously met her might recognize her, making it much harder to fabricate a new identity for her thereafter.

"Who am I that he should know me?" What should have been a casual remark is imbued with a bottomless well of self-mockery and desolation, instantly rendering Pei Muci speechless.

His expression grows complex, as if a thin layer of frost has settled over his features.

His large hand grips her waist, forcing her to face him.

"Stop it!" Qingwu cries out in alarm.

Just when she thinks he is about to do something untoward, he merely hooks his finger into her floral-patterned silk belt, as if searching for something.

"Where is your jade pendant?" Pei Muci remembers that her jade pendant was a gift from the Emperor, one she treasured deeply; she would hardly abandon it during their flight.

Qingwu's words carry thorns, deliberately meant to cause him pain: "The princess manor's jade pendant was split in two. One half has always remained with Lingyu, and the other half I gave to him as part of my dowry before our wedding, to be reunited so that we might be complete."

A heavy oppression grips Pei Muci’s heart, as if someone is wringing it with their bare hands.

Yet he lets no sign of it show on his face, maintaining his usual warm and spring-like demeanor. With a long finger, he unhooks the bamboo-jointed jade pendant from his own waist.

"No matter. From now on, you shall wear this one, and everyone will know who you are."

This belt pendant is likewise divided into two halves; the dragon head remains with him, while the dragon body is with Gu Hanjiang for issuing military commands.

Once they rendezvous in Bianjing, he will take back the dragon body as well.

Qingwu watches in silence as he fastens the identity-symbolizing jade pendant around her waist.

Staring blankly for a long while at the out-of-place object resting against her waist, she reaches out to undo her bound posture.

Pei Muci moves a step faster, pressing her directly onto the soft couch and pinning her beneath the warm velvet quilt, his face dark enough to drip water. "What are you doing?"

"I do not want this." Qingwu shows not a shred of yielding, determined to draw a clear boundary between them.

"Then what do you want?" Pei Muci catches her wrists and pins her hands above her head.

The jade pendant suspends from the edge of the couch, striking against it with a crisp chime.

Their breaths intertwine, and the scorching air lingers within the spacious carriage, refusing to dissipate.

"I want to leave." Knowing she cannot match his strength, Qingwu ceases her violent struggle and meets his gaze head-on.

His deep black pupils reflect her own, overflowing with a confusion and incomprehension that can barely be contained.

Qingwu has always been sharp-witted, but even if she perceives his feelings, she cannot possibly offer any response at such a juncture.

Thinking of her inner knot, Pei Muci blurts out, "It wasn't me beneath the city wall back then, and the person you saw wasn't me either. I know my words alone are unconvincing, which is why I want to bring you back to the capital first. Once you see it with your own eyes, you will naturally believe me."

Remaining entirely unmoved, Qingwu curls her lips into a smile and delivers another unassailable truth.

"From the age of eight, I dreamed of escaping that place. When I finally established my own manor outside, the wars of the Southern Dynasty stripped me of everything. Now that I have finally adjusted and prepared to live a few peaceful days, you demand that I return with a willing attitude. To be honest, I simply cannot do it."

Pei Muci suddenly recalls the frantic inquiries he made when he first learned of Qingwu’s supposed death, accidentally extracting those words from the people around her out of his sheer unwillingness to accept the truth.

"Mammy Zhao told me about your mother; naturally, I would never treat you the way she was treated."

"Mammy Zhao? She isn't dead?" Hearing only what she wishes to hear, Qingwu presses further. "What about Ningchun and the others? Are they with you as well?"

When Yunting first betrayed her by leaking her whereabouts, she had suspected that Hanyue must still be alive, otherwise Yunting’s character would never have driven her to betrayal.

Yet the two of them clearly possessed the secret codes of the former princess manor, and yet they never sent word to find her, causing her to slowly set aside those lingering doubts.

Seeing that she has entirely missed the point of his words, Pei Muci’s gaze surges with anger, though he still manages a relatively calm parting remark: "If you follow me back, you will naturally see them."

"I am not venting the incompetence and paralysis of the Yong Dynasty upon you. Rather, I had already forgotten everything, able to live the life I once dreamed of in Peach Blossom Village with Lingyu—and then you arrived." Unwilling to lower her pride by weeping, Qingwu nonetheless fails to hold back her tears as she speaks of a past that can never be undone.

Pei Muci releases her wrists and uses the pads of his fingers to wipe the sparkling tears from her cheeks.

Drop by drop, the crystal tears roll down, scorching his heart.

Knowing he cannot let her go, he finds himself momentarily at a loss for words, reduced to offering continuous, gentle reassurances.

Once Qingwu’s sobbing subsides and her emotions gradually stabilize, he takes her hand and places it against his own waist.

That is the spot where the jade pendant originally hung.

Shamelessly brazen, he murmurs, "My waist is empty now; you must embroider a pouch for me."

Realizing there is no negotiating this matter, Qingwu simply collapses back onto the soft couch, tugging the corner of the quilt—which he is currently sitting on—up over her face to shut out his sight.

To Pei Muci, however, it looks as though she simply refuses to look at him ever again.

He forcefully gathers her into his arms, pressing her back against his chest. Qingwu can faintly hear the muffled, low chuckles vibrating within his chest cavity.

Insane.

Qingwu curses inwardly, blindly reaching out to grope for something to push herself away.

Suddenly, her hand presses against a patch of softness.