Qinglian Chronicles

[Last chapter sucked so here’s a palate-cleanser!

Minor NSFW at the beginning. Thanks for liking and commenting!]

When I came to, I could tell right away that I was no longer at Shao Qing’s place. I was now in my own bed, laying flat on my stomach with pain seemingly all over my body, but most of all from that one place.

A hand was wiping me down with as much gentleness as possible, its fingertips bringing on a cool feeling. The ache was dulled wherever they passed.

Is Hong Feng giving me medicine?

I don’t want to turn my head and look, or move at all. I’m afraid of disturbing my wounds. Muffled from laying face-down, I say, “Hong Feng, where’s Jinzi? Don’t let him know about this, I know he’s probably going to make some trouble for me.”

The hand applying medicine stopped.

I wait for Hong Feng to say something to me. At this moment, I really want to hear whatever she’ll say. Sympathizing with me is fine, chastising me is also fine. Yet she says nothing.

When someone’s miserable, they really need to reactions of others to comfort themselves.

What a truly ridiculous, vulgar state of mind.

My head falls back down to the pillow, and I silently laugh at myself in distress.

That hand continues to apply the medicine, distributing it bit by bit on my bruises. The movement is so slow and gentle, I feel just a little comforted. She gradually applied it to my behind, gently parting it, a low voice sounding out after, “Bear with it a bit.”

That voice…?

The soreness doesn’t prevent me from jumping up, staring with full-on shock at that expressionless face, the owner of which is holding a medicine bottle.

“J-Jinzi!” I’m so indescribably horrified that even my pain was forgotten.

Jinzi’s blank face is truly displaying the pinnacle of blankness at this moment. He’s always had a blank expression before, but I could still see the emotions conveyed within it. Now I can’t make out anything. I feel waves of apprehension in my heart.

“Lay down,” he said, using one hand to push me down firmly yet gently.

My legs were parted slightly. He scooped a big glob of ointment onto his fingertip and lightly stuffed it into me. I bite my lip hard and knit my brows, secretly twisting my hands tight in the bedsheets to endure it. It’s really shameful and humiliating. The pain comes in a far second, but the embarrassment is 100 times more than what Shao Qing gave me.

I whimper on reflex because of the hurt. Jinzi’s breathing hitched, a look of unease on his face. He turned his his head away and didn’t look at me. After a while, he suddenly laughed coldly and said, “You’re too delicate. Can’t you even stand this much?”

I suddenly understood several layers of meaning within his words in an instant. My heart ached, tears dripping down my face.

He moved me back to laying on my stomach so as not to press on the wound so much. I buried myself into the pillow and cried pathetically into it, mentally blaming myself for losing face, though I’ve used up all my strength and can’t stop it anymore.

Jinzi mocked, “Were you not planning to do this for a long time now? As so, a man owns up to his responsibilities. What are you crying for?”

I don’t pay him any mind, continuing to cry until I’m out of breath. I’ve already lost face, so I might as well throw the rest away.

Jinzi’s heart softened up in the end. He hesitated, then placed his hand on my hair, sighing. “Don’t worry. He won’t look for you again,” he whispered.

Hearing this, a sudden jolt runs through me. In a panic, I abruptly turn around and sit up, firmly grabbing his clothes and worriedly staring him in the eyes. My voice is flurried and concerned. “How did I get back here? Did you come to find me? What did you see? What did you say to him? Are you… hurt?” I pulled at Jinzi’s clothes like mad, wanting to check him over for any wounds.

Jinzi is overwhelmed by my frenzy-like actions and has no choice but to grasp both my arms tightly and press me solidly back to the bed.

“Relax.” His quiet voice is very calm. “Listen. I got hurt, but it’s only a minor cut.” He takes off his outer robe to show me a place wrapped in a white, bloodless cloth, right beside the scar he’d gotten from the night assassination. “Shao Qing has no resentment with me. If he wanted to kill me, it’d be for you. He’s not a good person, but he’s not the murdering sort, either. — I came late, but… he won’t come for you anymore.”

I stare at his young, handsome, and patient face, as if I needed time to digest his words. After I finally came back to my senses, I wept loudly.

Jinzi doesn’t prevent or comfort me this time, simply letting me cry into the dusk, cry into the gradually falling night, and cry until the moonlit and starry blackness replaces the twilight as red as never-ending blood. He sits by my side all through it.

“Hand.” When I cried myself out at long last, my voice that was nasally, hoarse, and stuffy from the sobbing sounded from the dampening barrier of the pillow. Jinzi didn’t catch what I said, looking at me inquiringly. I spoke vaguely again. “Hand.”

He heard me clearly that time, reaching out his hand to me.

I grab it and pull it to the side of my tear-stained face, and he allowed me to do so. His hand is perfect and slender, and though there’s light calluses from sword practice, it could still be considered beautiful. I place my own hand on his, lightly rubbing his comparatively rougher, warmer palm. This warmth coming from another life gradually calmed me down, slowly lulling me to sleep.

I awaken in the middle of the night, allowing Jinzi on to me. I’m still in extreme pain, but perhaps because of the tender moonlight shining in, it seems to be not so unbearable.

This is something I have to do right now.

It’s like a dog smelling another dog’s mark on a car tire, so it marks it again to cover up the original smell.

But after going through this twice, it’s five days later that I can finally get out of bed.

In the afternoon of the fifth day, I feel a lot better. I’ve had to hold back these days due to sickness, so I have to sneak out of bed. I still remember the Annual Election thing and want to go witness which way the wind is blowing, as well as listen in to rumors on the streets. I know Jinzi and Hong Feng won’t approve, so I only take ol’ Tian and Zhu.

I hadn’t expected that it wouldn’t be long after leaving the Residence that I would bump into Luo Yaozu with Xiao Lu and Jinfeng. I’m alarmed and feeling considerably awkward, then assumed the dignified air of the head of the household, saying sternly, “Did Master Luo bring them out to play? Why didn’t you call for a carriage to be arranged?”

Luo Yaozu has always been quite scared of me, but seems to be a bit better now. He smiles and says, “Sir, these two said that they wanted to come out and listen to storytelling. I didn’t get a carriage due to how close it is.”

I sweep a glance to Xiao Lu. “Listen to storytelling? I suppose that’s this kid’s crafty little idea?”

Xiao Lu had been smiling and giggling since the start as he greets me. “You don’t let Xiao Lu serve at your side these days, Sir. He misses you a lot.”

I really have been neglecting these two kids right now, but I have a lot of my own affairs, and I’ve also always felt that Jinzi can just keep an eye on them and Hong Feng can handle the rest. I nevertheless feel a bit guilty, so I say with a smile, “Since that’s the case, how about I go with you?”

Xiao Lu cheered upon hearing this. Jinfeng has been standing impatiently to the side with his little face shrouded in shadow. This child is learning things from his big brother, putting on a cool front. These two are growing very fast these days, though. I should get Hong Feng to get them some new sets of clothes.

Old Tian and Zhu are now completely different with me than they were before and are sometimes even willing to chit-chat a bit. Old Zhu smiled and said, “Xiao Lu is growing more and more into a fine young man. If you look carefully, he looks quite a bit like you, Sir.”

I know what his teasing means. I return his smile. “I wouldn’t be able to have a son as old as this.”

Yet Xiao Lu was pleased by these words, a wide grin on his face. Jinfeng snorted and said, “What’re you so happy about a man growing up for?”

Tian and Zhu’s faces turn a bit ugly, but because of his relationship with Jinzi, Jinfeng is considered a half-master, and it wouldn’t be any good for them to chide him. Xiao Lu goes to pull at the hem of Jinfeng’s robe, Luo Yaozu peeking at my expression.

I know Jinfeng hates me to the core, and I can’t argue about it. My smile’s gone.

Where we’re visiting today is the bustling Eastern Market just east of the palace, located between the rich area of the Northeast and the trade area of the Southeast.

Xiao Lu is probably the most cheerful, rushing back and forth, occasionally stopping to say something that would make Old Tian laugh. Jinfeng was cold-faced and doing his utmost to look like a grownup, walking at Luo Yaozu’s side.

I strained my ears to listen to what passers-by were saying, but I didn’t hear any rumors related to the Annual Election or anything about the Qingliu and Waiqi. I found out later that, in regards to a greater portion of the younger generation of soldiers that followed Shao Qing back home, they seemed to have rigorous military discipline and excellent evaluation.

We entered the teahouse, the storytelling having just begun. The subject is Shao Qing’s war in the Northwest, shouted about with exuberance, spittle flying everywhere. The listeners are enraptured hearing about how courageous and amazing Shao Qing was, beheading an enemy general amongst a thousand people with one strike and forming a plan to trick the other party into opening their city gates. The sound of their applause shook the heavens.

I look around. The two youngsters are captivated, the melon seeds in their mouth falling to the side, forgotten. Even the three other adults are holding their tea yet forgetting to drink it. I’m nothing less than depressed: that guy Shao Qing is actually very good at using public opinion as a means. No wonder the people look at him favorably.

At this moment, someone in the seat next to me was talking somewhat loudly, attracting my attention. I saw only a Confucian scholar and a martial artist. The scholar said to the other, “Brother Chen, you were a close guard of Shao Qing’s. Is there something close to the truth in Mister Storyteller’s words?”

The martial artist surnamed Chen said, “What piece of it isn’t true? General Shao is a paragon of bravery, how could he not be the one leading the soldiers? If the army’s provisions get cut off, how could he not be right there with us as we chewed on wild plants and horse meat? One of his distant paternal nephews committed a crime, and without a second word, General Shao chopped his head off, so with the strict discipline in the army, who’d dare not accept it?”

Another person at the side slid into the conversation. “According to what you said, General Shao is even better than General Bao was?”

The Chen guy looks hesitant. “General Bao was admittedly… like a god in his use of military resources…” His voice was suddenly louder. “But one should not commune with the enemy to stage a coup! That’s why General Shao is said to be better.”

The whole place is abruptly bursting with noise, a lot of people beginning to argue about who’s the inferior and the superior between Shao and Bao, and in a flash no one was listening to the story anymore. Mister Storyteller is unable to contain the situation, anxiously dabbing the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

The General Bao they were talking about is Bao Cunxin, who implicated all of the Yao family a few years ago. I’ve always been mighty curious about him, but there were no files about him in the Court, and no sort of clue trail to follow. I’m listening very carefully right now.

Unfortunately, it’s a bunch of street talk with nothing actually credible. Hearing the end of it, Shao is taking the lead over Bao, my ears filling with words of praise for Shao Qing. I’m getting even more moody listening to this, and take Old Tian, Xiao Lu, and the rest of them out.

Because there wasn’t much gain, I just want to go home. Unexpectedly, a horse swiftly galloped up to us, with a person jumping off the next second, the both of them gasping for breath. I look at them carefully only to see that it’s my former servant girl, Jinzi’s former fiancée, and the Xue family’s Young Mistress, Xue Yongyao.

She steps forward and grabs me, saying, “I need a word with you.”

Old Tian and the rest start to get nervous. I wave them off so they don’t do anything rash, then very cooperatively follow Young Mistress Xue into a secluded area. Her body still unsteady, Young Mistress Xue speaks sternly, “You’re letting Zizi go now, or else I’ll never let this lie!”

I stare blankly, looking at her in puzzlement. She continues, “My mom’s subordinate had a confidential report a few days ago that said that broke into the Shao residence for you, and even stabbed Shao Qing! I wanted to come find you then, but big sis Hong Feng wouldn’t let me in! I had to send someone to keep watch outside your home and I had to wait for you to come out!”

The Young Mistress pants, carrying on, “How you were to Zizi before, I’m not going to argue about with you! Do you want him to die now? Who is Shao Qing? How could he be the kind of person to take things lying down after getting wounded?” As she said that, she was abruptly in tears, like a pear blossom in the rain. She bit her lower lip, speaking with distress, “If…if you free Zizi, and let me marry you, I’ll also allow it…”

I’m frozen, unable to make a sound.

Let me know if I made any mistakes.

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