Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 108: For My Beloved

Chapter 108: For My Beloved

Winter gave way to autumn, and the air grew ever colder. As another year drew to a close, Wei Zhen and Qi Yan returned to the palace of Wei to spend the Spring Festival.

The wind blew with a sharp bite, silver snowflakes whirled through the sky, and the horse-drawn carriages of the royal entourage made their slow way into the palace courtyard.

The moment Wei Zhen stepped down from the carriage, cold gusts swept in from every direction, making her shiver. Turning, she saw a familiar figure approaching through the snowy mist.

Wei Ling waved. “Ah-sister!”

Wei Zhen broke into a smile, raising her skirts and running to fling herself into her brother’s arms. Wei Ling released her, his eyebrows and lashes sprinkled with flecks of snow, unable to hide his delight. “Ah-sister, you’re finally home! When we got your letter saying you’d join us for New Year’s, Father and I have been waiting for your return every day!”

Wei Zhen replied, “I’ve also longed to see you. And Father—how has his health been lately?”

Wei Ling said, “Come inside and see for yourself.”

As he finished speaking, footsteps sounded behind. Wei Ling looked up and spotted Qi Yan, swathed in a black fox-fur cloak, holding an umbrella. As soon as he arrived, he shielded most of the falling snow from Wei Zhen’s head.

Wei Ling couldn’t help but smirk, and Qi Yan smiled. “It’s been a few months, General Wei. Is life in the Wei palace treating you well?”

Wei Ling stepped forward, bumping fists against Qi Yan’s shoulder. “Quite the gallant Prince of Jin, are you, taking my sister off to travel the world. I really am jealous.”

“Let’s go in,” he said. “Father’s been waiting for you both long enough.”

Inside the palace hall, warmth washed over them like spring. The brazier’s glow banished every trace of chill from their bodies.

Wei Zhen shrugged off her cloak. Immediately, a young woman stepped forward to receive it. “Princess, allow me.”

Wei Zhen paused in mild surprise. The girl was just sixteen or seventeen, dressed in fine silk with simple jewelry, not the attire of an ordinary palace maid. Her face was exceptionally bright and fresh, especially her clear eyes, which reminded Wei Zhen of a mountain spring.

The girl looked away from Wei Zhen, a bit skittish. She glanced at Wei Ling for support, and only after his encouraging nod did she offer a shy greeting. “Princess.”

Wei Zhen sat by the Wei King and asked, “Father, who is this young lady?”

The king smiled. “Better to let your brother tell you himself.”

Wei Zhen met Qi Yan’s gaze, the two of them exchanging a knowing look—something unusual was afoot.

Wei Ling’s cheeks flushed. “Ah-sister, just call her Xiang He.”

The girl ducked her head, half-hiding behind Wei Ling. He took her hand. “Ah-sister, she’s not used to palace life—she’s lived in the countryside all her life, so she’s a bit timid.”

Wei Zhen’s curiosity grew. “How did you two meet?”

“When I was posted to suppress river bandits at the border, I was injured and got separated from my troops. She’s the one who saved me—she treated my wounds.”

He brought the girl forward. “Ah-sister, Xiang He is good-hearted, pure, and kind. She has no family and grew up alone in the countryside. Life was hard for her, so I brought her to the palace. I like her. I’d like to… well, after the new year, I hope we can marry. But I have to have your blessing—what do you think?”

The girl looked lost, trying to hide behind Wei Ling.

Wei Zhen took her hand gently, her eyes filled with warmth as she looked at the pair. Wei Ling, tall and composed; Xiang He, delicate and jade-like—the two made a fitting match.

Wei Zhen said, “If you like her, and you’ve spent time together and find yourselves well-matched, I have no objection at all. Have you discussed wedding plans with Father?”

Wei Ling let out a deep sigh of relief. “There’s no rush—we can set the date anytime. So long as you approve!”

He bent and hugged his sister, whispering excitedly, “We’ve always known each other’s hearts—I just knew you’d like Xiang He too!”

The girl smiled at Wei Zhen. “Thank you, Princess.”

Wei Zhen hugged her brother tightly. How could she not agree? She recognized Wei Ling’s anxiousness came from concern over Xiang He’s humble background—but as long as her brother was happy, she truly wished them both well.

The king, too, nodded in satisfaction. “This wedding has my blessing as well.”

Qi Yan quipped, “When I married your sister, you did everything to get me drunk. So, General Wei, I expect you to wait for me in return on your wedding night!”

Wei Ling grinned, “You think I’m afraid of you? Why not try a round tonight, since it’s New Year’s Eve, and see who falls first?”

Wei Zhen placed her hands on Qi Yan’s shoulders.

Just then, the curtains parted and an attendant entered, holding an infant in his arms. Wei Zhen’s eyes brightened. “Father, whose child is this?”

The Wei King said, “Wei Yu’s. After you left Wei, his wife gave birth. Tonight for New Year’s, they brought the boy to pay respects.”

He handed the baby to Wei Zhen. Looking down, she saw the chubby little one with big, grape-dark eyes, babbling, clad in a tiger-hooded cap that bobbed as he moved—altogether adorable.

Qi Yan took a turn holding him. “Sturdily built, this one.”

No sooner had he spoken than the baby erupted into a loud wail, squirming in his arms. Instantly, the crying echoed through the entire hall.

Qi Yan juggled and shushed, but only seemed to make things worse, and the Prince of Jin—once lord of battlefield carnage—now seemed all thumbs with a child in his arms.

He muttered, “Don’t cry…”

But the crying only intensified, making even Qi Yan knit his brow and turn aside. Wei Zhen handed him a rattle drum. Qi Yan gave it a gentle shake, and the little one quieted instantly, transfixed by the muffled thumping sound.

The baby, now placid again, gazed at Qi Yan in wonder. Qi Yan smiled despite himself, pinching the boy’s cheek—only for tears to well again, forcing another round of hasty soothing.

At last, the child calmed and was set down to rest. Both adults wiped their brows in relief.

Watching the couple play with Wei Yu’s baby, the king laughed. “You two have been married for some time. Have you thought about having a child of your own?”

Wei Zhen paused with the rattle, glancing at Qi Yan, then finally said, “A pregnancy is something that should happen naturally—it can’t be rushed.”

Qi Yan took her hand. “We’ve been traveling through the south lately, not really planning for a child, but after New Year’s, we may start considering it.”

Wei Zhen nodded, lying to her father—truth was, the pair had deliberately avoided conception, wanting to travel the lands together first.

The king smiled, “I’m not rushing you. I hear you want to see the world, and it’s true that pregnancy could interfere. You’re young—there’s no need to hurry.”

Wei Zhen was briefly stunned. But seeing the warmth and understanding in her father’s eyes, she sat beside him, grateful for his gentle care.

The king asked, “Where did you two travel, these last few months?”

Wei Zhen replied, “We climbed Mount Tai, watched the tides, visited the grasslands before New Year…”

She knew her father’s health was poor—wanting a grandchild of course was natural—but she took his message to heart, appreciating the love behind his words.

She recounted tales of their journey south, with Qi Yan occasionally adding an amusing detail, making the king laugh aloud.

He asked, “After the new year, where next?”

Wei Zhen answered, “Now that the northern and western tribes have submitted to Jin, Qi Yan and I plan to visit the West after the festival.”

She clung to the king’s arm. “You look much better lately, Father.”

The king nodded. “Thanks to Zuo Ying—the doctor’s acupuncture has truly helped.”

Evening deepened. An attendant came to announce that dinner was prepared. The king stood, then turned to Qi Yan. “So, Prince of Jin, you’re here for New Year’s—how is your father?”

Qi Yan replied, “He wished to come, but his health wouldn’t allow it. And if he leaves, Mother would be alone. So he stayed behind. I’ve sent a letter home, and after Spring Festival, Ah Zhen and I will visit them.”

The king nodded.

That night’s New Year’s banquet was just family, unburdened by courtly formality. After a few words of blessing from the king, Wei Ling called for toasts, and the mood was lively. Even Wei Zhen, who couldn’t hold her liquor, drank a few more cups than usual.

After dinner, attendants helped the king retire.

Qi Yan bent to Wei Zhen’s ear. “You’re tipsy. Still planning to stay up?”

Wei Zhen answered, “Of course. My brother and I always stayed up till the end.”

Qi Yan glanced at Wei Ling, toppled over the table. “He’s not staying up tonight.”

Wei Zhen herself could hardly keep up, her cheeks flushed, delaying her replies as if lost in a fog.

Qi Yan led her back to the main hall, opening the doors to the garden—here, one could see the fireworks from outside the city.

Frosty wind streamed in. Qi Yan asked if she was cold. She clung to his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder, “A little—but just hold me.”

He smiled, wrapping her closer, listening as she yawned again and again—her arms around his neck, nearly hanging off him, eyes half-lidded. He squeezed her a bit tighter.

“It’s not midnight yet; you can nap for a bit. I’ll wake you for the fireworks.”

Wei Zhen blinked sleepily. “Father will be asleep by midnight. The fireworks are set outside the gates; you can’t see them from the palace.”

“Want to go outside and watch?” he asked softly.

She laughed but didn’t answer, dozing off in his arms.

Soon, a guard saw the Prince carry the Princess out of the hall. “Ready a carriage—we’ll be going out for a while.”

Half-conscious, she felt the world spinning. When she came to, she was in an unfamiliar room.

There were no lights; only snowlight drifted in from the window.

She found herself propped against a warm brick bed, a wool blanket over her waist and belly. Qi Yan was nowhere in sight. Then, at the window, came a “tap tap.”

A shadow flickered across the snow. When Wei Zhen slid the window open, wind and snow rushed in, and a branch of plum blossoms was held out to her.

“Tonight is New Year’s Eve—I picked these for a beauty.”

Wei Zhen’s eyes traced the flower to its giver—Qi Yan, in a dark gold robe, standing in the snow, the storm swirling against his tall, graceful form.

His lashes were frosted with snow. “For my beauty—and for my beloved.”

Wei Zhen burst out laughing, accepted the branch. As snow and buds swept in, dusting her hair, she blinked, heart pounding.

Qi Yan took her wrist. “I built a snowman for you. Want to see?”

She nodded, set aside her blanket, and before she could stand, Qi Yan swept her up out the window in his arms.

Her feet touched down in the courtyard; Qi Yan explained, “This is Wei Ling’s house outside the palace. We’ll watch the fireworks here.”

He led her to the snowman he’d built.

Wei Zhen exhaled in wonder. “You forgot to give it eyes.”

Qi Yan handed her a twig. “You should do it.”

She drew eyes on the snowman, then looked back. Her husband stood watching her in the falling snow.

Suddenly, a snowball crashed into her shoulder. Wei Zhen ducked, rubbing her face, only to see Qi Yan grinning, already rolling another. She scrambled to make her own, pelting him first.

Soon, his face and shoulders were white, and Wei Zhen darted after him, chasing him down. He spun, caught her hand, and stuffed a handful of snow down her collar, making her shiver.

“Boom, boom, boom!” The sky above erupted with fireworks, lighting the courtyard as the young couple chased each other in the snow.

Amid fireworks, glowing snow, and swirling wind, Wei Zhen tumbled into Qi Yan’s arms, the two collapsing into the soft drifts. Their breath steamed in the frigid air.

Qi Yan murmured, “Ah Zhen, look!”

She rolled over—above, fireworks burst against the night, a riot of color like a painted scroll. Jade towers, mountains, galaxies—they were all within reach.

He asked, “Midnight is near. Do you have a wish?”

Wei Zhen clasped her hands, closed her eyes, and made a silent wish. When she opened them, Qi Yan was studying her closely. “What did you wish for?”

She teased, “If I say it, won’t it lose its power?”

Qi Yan smiled, “Even if Heaven doesn’t fulfill it, I will.”

She smiled. “Whatever you wish for, that’s what I wish for too.”

“How do you know what my wish is?” He leaned in, eyes filled with reflected fireworks and her own face.

He nuzzled her nose. Wei Zhen wrapped her arms around him, pressing her palm to his heart. “My only wish is for you to be safe, for us to have this moment every year, for every day and every night to be as we hope.”

Qi Yan said, “Then, truly, our hearts are one.”

“My wish is to be with you every year, every firework.”

As the New Year arrived, beneath the falling snow and the brilliance of the Milky Way, his gentle kiss found her lips.

The fireworks flared overhead; she ducked into his arms, pouting, “Qi Yan, I’m so cold.”

Qi Yan wrapped both their cloaks tighter. “Is that better?”

Wei Zhen laughed, “A little tighter, please.”

Lying side by side in the snow, they gazed at the starry night and the fireworks showering radiance over them both.

In that moment, time itself seemed to pause, the world infinite and still.

Inside the Wei palace, lanterns swayed, casting shadows on the walls.

Elsewhere, Wei Ling was woken by the sound of fireworks. He saw Xiang He with a damp cloth, dabbing his forehead.

“You’re awake? Just now I gave you some sobering soup,” she said, perching beside him, a little uneasy. “I was so nervous meeting the Princess, I messed up all the formalities. Do you think you or Father will be upset?”

Wei Ling took her hand. “Of course not—Princess and Father both like you. A silly mistake is nothing.”

His gentle words soothed her. She looked at him, recalling how, in her quiet village, she’d never imagined the injured boy she saved would turn out to be Wei’s great general.

Now, brought to the grandeur of the palace, she was a peasant girl among nobles—always feeling out of place. Yet Wei Ling always protected her, teaching her to read and write, instructing her in courtly ways, never scorning her background. The king and princess too treated her with kindness, never once looking down on her. For all her anxiety, she was deeply happy.

Wei Ling opened the window. “Back then, during New Year, my sister and grandfather and I would spend it together. But now Grandfather is gone and my sister is married—I felt so alone. But now I have you.”

She had found and nursed him, buying herbs with her last coins.

The two of them were alike—growing up without family. In their small wooden house, two lonely souls had comforted one another. He was bewitched by her goodness. Nothing else mattered—who cared who was worthy or not?

At long last, they too had found a home.

Wei Ling squeezed her hand. Xiang He finally smiled, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched the fireworks together.

In Jin, at the Chancellor’s mansion, it was past midnight, but the lamps still glowed.

Zuo Ying cradled his infant son, lulling him to sleep. Turning, he saw Yue Shu lifting the curtain. “Brother, is he asleep?”

Zuo Ying placed the boy in the cradle, whispering, “He’s down.”

Yue Shu smiled, “You’re the one working so hard.”

Zuo Ying sat by her side. “You bore him for us. Rest—I’ll stay with you.”

He took her hand in both of his, the warm light running over his fingers like honey, twining them together.

From now on, nothing would separate them again.

In Xiacheng, under the moonlight, a messenger knocked at General Qi’s door, delivering a letter from Jin.

Qi Che sat down, opened the bamboo letter, and laughed aloud at its message.

The room was silent except for his voice: “Ah Qin, that boy writes to say he and Ah Zhen have been wandering the land, wild and free. When the New Year is past, they’ll come visit both of us.”

After reading, he went to his wife’s memorial, lighting incense before her.

Smoke wafted into the air. Though age lined General Qi’s face, his eyes as he looked at his wife’s plaque remained as bright as ever.

“Ah Qin, another spring festival, and both our son and I are well.”

After midnight, Qi Yan and Wei Zhen returned to the palace, only to find the Wei King in his fox-fur cloak waiting beneath the eaves.

Wei Zhen hurried forward. “Father, why are you out here? It’s so cold—come inside.”

The king smiled. “I woke and asked after you—when the servants said you’d gone out, I thought you’d be back before long and wanted to wait for you.”

“Come in, I’ve prepared gifts for you, Ah Yan, and Wei Ling.”

Wei Zhen glanced at Qi Yan, both smiling as they stepped inside together. Warmth rose to meet them, spring in the heart of winter.

Snowflakes whirled outside, bidding farewell to the old and greeting the new—a fresh year had come at last.

To spend Spring Festival together in the depths of winter—such is true warmth.

Footnotes and Explanations:

• • “Spring Festival”/”守岁”/”除夕”: The lunar New Year’s Eve, traditionally a night of family reunion and staying up late together, filled with folkloric symbolism about renewal and continuity.

• • “Rattle drum”/”撥浪鼓”: A traditional children’s toy in China, often used to amuse or distract infants.

• • The ritual of giving plum blossoms on New Year’s Eve is a poetic gesture—with plum blossoms (寒梅) symbolizing perseverance, purity, and affection through the cold.

• • “Memorial tablet”/”牌位”: In traditional families, tablets dedicated to deceased relatives are kept honored in private shrines or special places, especially during festivals.

• • “Lion hats” and other cute attire for babies during New Year are references to folk customs meant to bring protection and good luck.