Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 109: Qixi Festival

Chapter 109

In the fourth lunar month of spring, the sun in the Western Regions was already scorching.

The royal city of the Western Qiang was situated at the crossroads between east and west and served as an essential waypoint for merchant caravans. As such, it was far more prosperous than the surrounding towns, with carriages and horses flowing ceaselessly along its streets, creating a scene of great bustle and excitement. It was on this day that Wei Zhen and Qi Yan arrived at the royal city.

No sooner had the two dismounted than they received an enthusiastic welcome from the King of Western Qiang.

“King of Jin, Queen, I have long awaited your arrival. To meet you both today is truly an honor for all of Western Qiang.”

The King of Western Qiang placed a hand on his shoulder in their customary gesture of friendliness and offered them formal salutations. Wei Zhen also returned the greeting, adhering to Western etiquette.

The King of Western Qiang accepted a tray handed to him by a serving girl and offered it to Wei Zhen with a smile. A minister beside him translated: “Our great king is deeply honored that the King and Queen of Jin have taken time out of their busy affairs to visit us. This is traditional attire from Western Qiang, prepared especially for Her Majesty, and we hope you will accept it as a token of our sincerity and welcome.”

The garments of the Western Regions were quite distinct from those of the Central Plains—perhaps to suit the heat, the fabric was lighter, with more exposed areas.

Wei Zhen rested her hand upon it, feeling the delicate touch of silk in her palm, and looked up with a smile. “Many thanks, Your Majesty.”

The King of Western Qiang led the pair into the audience hall, where exquisite food and wine had already been set out in preparation. As they took their seats, the King clapped his hands, and the hall was soon filled with the sounds of music and dance.

Lifting his wine goblet, the King of Western Qiang spoke in his native tongue, toasting Wei Zhen and Qi Yan beside him.

The minister laughed and translated: “Word of Jin’s strength and the martial prowess of its king has long reached the Western Regions. Despite your many affairs, you have come to our country. Our king is grateful from the bottom of his heart. Rest assured, Western Qiang is eager to form a bond of alliance with Jin.”

Qi Yan smiled, nodding as he downed the amber fruit wine in his goblet.

In times past, with the Central Plains fractured, the Western Regions’ states would always seize the opportunity to raid the borders. Now that the realm was unified and the armies under the King of Jin carried a formidable reputation, the people of the Western Regions all admired the king’s valor on horseback. Western Qiang was not alone—other small states had also sent letters offering submission, seeking mutual exchange with the Central Plains and trade opportunities for their caravans.

Wei Zhen gazed down at the amber goblet before her. The person beside her leaned closer with a low voice: “Even if it’s just fruit wine, you should drink sparingly.”

They both knew her tolerance for alcohol; the least bit would intoxicate her, and come morning, she would have forgotten everything she’d done or said while drunk.

She lifted the goblet, taking a delicate sip, and whispered, “Lately, my tolerance has improved quite a bit. Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

The scene of their whispered conversation did not go unnoticed by those present. The King of Western Qiang raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with his minister; word had spread that the King and Queen of Jin were deeply affectionate—and now it seemed the rumors were true.

After the banquet, the King of Western Qiang personally accompanied them on a tour of the palace.

The Western Qiang palace had a unique exotic flair; the rules were far less rigid than in the Central Plains. As she wandered the halls, Wei Zhen found everything curious and novel. In the distance, she heard the sound of an energetic crowd and, looking closely, saw two brawny men bare-chested and wrestling in an arena.

All around, nobles in splendid attire sat on the green lawns, erupting into cheering and applause from time to time.

A minister explained to Wei Zhen that they had arrived just in time for a special festival in Western Qiang, which, akin to the “Qixi Festival” of the Central Plains^1, included a tradition where men would wrestle, and young women could choose whichever man caught their fancy.

The spectators were thus young noble men and women—the winner would carry off the beauty in high spirits.

The King of Western Qiang led the two to a building overlooking the arena, from which they could view all below.

“Why don’t the King and Queen of Jin make a wager: who among the two warriors below will emerge victorious?”

A maid presented fruits and fine wine. Qi Yan sipped his wine in silence.

The King of Western Qiang turned to Wei Zhen: “What does Her Majesty think?”

The struggle below grew fiercer. One of the men suddenly surged up, seizing the other’s shoulder, but was swiftly countered.

Wei Zhen replied, “It seems to me their strength is quite evenly matched. If I had to place a bet, I’d choose the young man in the blue robe.”

Upon hearing this, the King of Western Qiang roared with laughter and then shouted a string of words over the railing, instantly causing the crowd to erupt.

The minister explained to Wei Zhen: “Our king has just told him that the Queen of Jin has wagered on him. If he wins, the king will reward him handsomely.”

Below, the young man in blue waved toward Wei Zhen, uttering several words in a language she did not understand.

Soon, the two warriors clashed once again to the excited cries of the onlookers. Sweat glistened on their muscular bodies—these men were the picture of physical vigor, the sunlight highlighting their robust forms, no wonder the young women cheered so wildly.

At first, Wei Zhen did not find the spectacle particularly interesting, but as the contest became more tense, she, too, was drawn in by the crowd’s excitement.

The young man in blue launched an aggressive attack, but his move struck only air, to the audience’s collective sigh. At that moment, Wei Zhen felt the faint weight of someone’s gaze—all she had to do was turn to meet Qi Yan’s eyes.

Wei Zhen asked, “Why aren’t you watching them? Why do you keep looking at me?”

Qi Yan replied coolly, “When I was in Chouyou^2, I visited an underground fighting ring. There’s nothing special to see.”

Wei Zhen tittered, “At that time, you sneaked to that black market fight, and I chased after you in a fury, thinking you were risking your life for a bit of silver.”

He said nothing. After a pause, he spoke again: “Do you really find this entertaining?”

Wei Zhen answered, “I remember when you once entered the fighting ring, you were surrounded by Chouyou girls, and they all could see you fight bare-chested. If they can watch you, why can’t I watch these men?”

A shadow crossed Qi Yan’s face. “I did it to win back your jade pendant.”

Wei Zhen’s lips curved into a smirk. Of course, she wasn’t truly interested in looking at half-naked men; she was just teasing him.

Their banter made them ignore the goings-on below, until drumbeats signaled that the blue-robed youth had indeed won the fight.

Their conversation ceased. The King of Western Qiang waved grandly, and a serving girl carried a tray to the blue-clad man. He glanced at the offered gem and, backing up a step, declined, speaking a stream of words; at that, countless eyes from all around turned toward Wei Zhen.

Soon enough, the maid returned; the minister took the tray from her and approached Wei Zhen.

“Your Majesty, Hu Yanrui^3 wishes to thank you for wagering on him. This gemstone is his gift to you, as a token for your journey.”

Wei Zhen was momentarily stunned. The jewel before her was a deep blue, as blue as a tranquil sea and shaped like a dove’s egg, reminiscent of the youth’s striking sapphire eyes.

The young man called aloud and waved to Wei Zhen.

She lifted her gaze from the jewel and replied with a smile, “Thank him for his kindness, but as it is something he won through his own efforts, he should keep it for himself.”

Once more the maid took the tray to Hu Yanrui. He listened to the explanation, looked up, and gave Wei Zhen a bright, friendly smile, offering a gesture with his hand upon his shoulder^4.

Wei Zhen smiled in return. Qi Yan said nothing, but a faint crease appeared between his brows.

The sun gradually faded, and by dusk, the King of Western Qiang once again invited Wei Zhen and Qi Yan to a banquet.

After the evening feast, the two strolled hand in hand through the palace gardens. Indeed, the customs in Western Qiang were remarkably open—along the way, they saw young noble men and women walking arm in arm, or chasing and laughing together.

The palace was brilliantly lit, the night breezes gently blowing. Wei Zhen tightened her grip on Qi Yan’s hand. As they turned a corner, they nearly stumbled into a young man kneeling before her—the blue-robed youth, Hu Yanrui.

Hu Yanrui’s smile was sincere as he spoke in halting Central Plains speech: “Many thanks to Your Majesty for your favor today. I have woven a flower wreath, which I wish to present to you—may you accept it?”

“My thanks, but…” Wei Zhen smiled politely and was about to decline when Qi Yan interrupted her, “We appreciate your good will. However, you should save this wreath for the girl destined for you.”

Hu Yanrui straightened. Qi Yan did not wait for any response, but put his arm around Wei Zhen’s shoulders and strode decisively away.

Behind them, the young man remained in the quiet glow of the lanterns, lowering his gaze to the flower wreath in his hands.

Wei Zhen looked back. “He truly didn’t mean anything more by it—he just wanted to give a wreath, that’s all.”

She paused, observing Qi Yan’s tense expression, and spoke softly: “Qi Yan, are you jealous?”

“No, when have I ever been so petty?” Qi Yan countered.

“Then why, before I answered, did you refuse him for me?”

Turning his face away, he answered, “I just don’t like him giving you things.”

“Don’t like it?” Wei Zhen smiled, tiptoeing to put her arms around his neck. She drew him aside into the shadows, the thick grass and trees hiding them from view. “You just said you weren’t so petty, but now you say you can’t stand it.”

Qi Yan dipped his head, bringing his face close to hers. “If I hadn’t refused, would you have accepted his gift?”

“Of course not. How could I accept another’s present, with a husband as jealous as you? Next time, I won’t even look at those bare-chested men. But today’s events can’t be entirely blamed on me—the customs here are just too bold.”

Qi Yan replied with bland indifference: “If you want to watch, I won’t stop you.”

“Really?” Wei Zhen said with a laugh. “Should we go watch now?”

In the next instant, he pulled her firmly back, pressing her against the cold wall. Qi Yan leaned close, eyes darkening. “If you want to look at them, why not look at me? It’s the same man’s body. Wei Zhen, I’ll let you look as much as you like.”

His hot breath brushed her neck, sending tingles across her skin. “Compared to those Western Qiang men, whose body do you like more?”

He seized her earlobe in his teeth, forcing her to tilt her head up.

“Every night, I am with you. Isn’t that enough?”

Wei Zhen could take no more; she raised her hand to cover his mouth, her cheeks flushed. Feeling his arms tighten, she realized this time, his jealousy was real—like a wolf whose interest had been aroused. She tried to wriggle free, but he caught her wrist, cupped the back of her head, and began to kiss her.

They were not alone in the gardens; from time to time, others passed along the nearby paths. Nestled together in a hidden corner, their nerves hummed as his kisses grew more urgent, leaving her feeling almost adrift, unable to catch her breath.

From the distant woods came other sounds—soft at first, then growing unmistakable in nature. Wei Zhen and Qi Yan were not naive. Realizing what those sounds meant, they looked at each other in shared embarrassment.

Clinging to his shoulders, Wei Zhen gasped softly. He whispered, “Go back?”

She nodded. They returned to the bedchamber, unbothered now by others’ presence.

After his bath, Qi Yan sat on the bed, waiting for Wei Zhen. Soon, her footsteps and the clinking of gems could be heard. He looked up—and was momentarily startled.

She emerged from the bathhouse, clothed in a thin Western gown, holding a silver whip in her hand.

“This is what the King of Western Qiang gifted me. How does it look?”

The crimson robe was not overly revealing, but perfectly accentuated her curves—ample where it should be, slender where it should be. Her bare shoulders were alabaster, her waist like a willow, her legs slim and long. She walked toward him barefoot, her gaze alight. Qi Yan took the silver whip from her, raising his brow: “And what is this?”

“It was hanging on the rack in the bathhouse, silver-plated—thought I’d show it to you.”

So she said, but the next instant, Qi Yan felt a cool touch on his chest—the whip pressed against him. She placed a toe on his knee, and Qi Yan looked up into her brilliant eyes.

“And?” she inquired.

Her gaze was bold, even predatory. Qi Yan closed his eyes, unable to name what he felt, only that a searing heat was rising unbearably within him.

He gripped the whip, pulling her closer bit by bit. She leaned over, her hair draping over his knees. Qi Yan reached to touch her cheek. “The gown suits you perfectly—it just feels as though something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” she pressed.

“It’s not you who’s missing something—it’s me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he replied.

His large palm found her waist, the calluses rough on her delicate skin. Sensing her shiver, he pulled her onto his lap. “Haven’t you noticed what it is that I’m missing?”

He inhaled the fragrance of her hair. Her puzzled gaze made her look all the more endearing.

In a husky voice, he whispered softly at her ear.

Wei Zhen’s lashes fluttered, her heart instantly ablaze.

He said: What I’m missing—is you.

A wave of heat rushed along her spine where his hand had roamed. Her cheeks were scarlet, hand clutching the silver whip.

Qi Yan reclined slightly, bracing his arms at his sides, admiring the woman sitting on his lap.

Those beautiful eyes were now brimming with deep yearning, making her all the more seductive.

Wei Zhen felt the temperature in the room rise by several degrees. Under his dark gaze, she reached back and let down the curtain, then bent close. “Help me undo the ties at the back of my gown.”

He smiled, lazily resting a hand on her shoulder as he unfastened the ties. Wei Zhen hooked her arms around his neck. “Are there any rooms nearby that are occupied?”

He caught her meaning immediately. “The palaces here are built with stone walls—not like the Jin Palace, so they’re better soundproofed.”

“Still, let’s be careful—after all, this isn’t home.” His tone was gentle.

In the golden lamplight, they drew closer.

Perhaps because they were in Western Qiang, emboldened by the atmosphere, they let themselves go more than ever before, trying everything they had once only read about in old manuals.

Behind gauzy curtains, shadows flickered. Sweat traced the lines of his muscles. Wei Zhen’s hair sprawled across the pillow as he gathered her into his arms from behind. He whispered, “They always say it’s a shame to meet so late—if only I’d met you sooner.”

He covered her hand with his, their fingers interlacing. Wei Zhen murmured, “If I’d known you before coming to the Chu capital as a bride-to-be, breaking off my engagement would’ve been much easier.”

His heavy breaths brushed her ear. “It needs to be even earlier than that.”

Wei Zhen asked, “How much earlier?”

He replied from behind, “When we were both children.”

She laughed. “I wish so too. Then our fathers and mothers would still be with us. I would have grown up with my parents at my side, and General Qi and the princess would have accompanied you. You’d have won your grandfather’s favor, and we’d have known each other as children—wouldn’t we be childhood sweethearts?”

Suddenly a thought struck her. “But even so, I would’ve had an arranged marriage—if not to Chu, then to some princely heir of Jin. What then?”

His arm, braced beside her, pressed down. Wei Zhen bit her lip, taking a sharp breath as Qi Yan replied, “Even if you were engaged, I’d find a way to steal you away.”

He turned her over, and in the glow of the lamps, she saw the deep affection in his eyes. Taking her hand, he pressed it to his cheek, his voice gentle: “Wei Zhen, you can only be mine.”

Wei Zhen reached up to embrace his neck, feeling their passion twine together, seemingly endless.

In that humid night, within the rising haze of intimacy, her words rippled again and again.

“Then, my Qi Lang^5, you must also belong to me alone.”

After this, I will write a parallel side story along this ‘if’ scenario~

The Princess of Wei x the Grandson of the King of Jin: How did the young General Qi win over the Princess of Wei?

^1 Qixi Festival: Commonly called “Chinese Valentine’s Day,” a traditional holiday celebrating lovers’ romantic union, held on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.
^2 Chouyou (仇猶國): An ancient foreign state or tribe mentioned in some Chinese records; here, used to suggest a borderland region known for exotic practices.
^3 Hu Yanrui (呼延瑞): A typical Western Region name invented for this narrative, representing the blue-robed youth.
^4 The hand-upon-shoulder gesture: In some Central Asian and steppe cultures, this is a sign of respect or greeting, distinct from the bowing etiquette of the Central Plains.
^5 Lang (郎): An affectionate archaic Chinese term for “gentleman” or “beloved man,” historically used by women to refer to their husband or sweetheart.