Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 110: Flesh and Blood

Chapter 109: Flesh and Blood

The two of them stayed in Western Qiang for several days, and the time had come for them to depart. On the day of their departure, the King of Western Qiang personally rode his horse out beyond the city walls to see them off, presenting them with chests of jewels and specialties from the Western Regions, saying that in due time, he would come to Jin to pay his respects at court.

After spending these days together, Wei Zhen had developed a very favorable impression of Western Qiang and responded with a gentle smile, “Very well.”

On their journey back to the capital, the two traveled leisurely, pausing here and there to take in the landscapes of the Western Regions and to witness countless new and wondrous things. Rather than a tour of inspection, the trip felt more like a blissful excursion. There were no interruptions from affairs of state, no cumbersome palace etiquette, and the atmosphere was nothing if not free and easy.

The sky was vast and the air crisp, the wind was gentle and the sun was radiant, and all the halls were steeped in the colors of spring.

On this day, a dispatch from the east had arrived, concerning military matters requiring Qi Yan’s attention. After discussing the issue in the Hall of Deliberation, he returned, and it was nearly noon.

He stepped into the bedchamber. The grand hall was vast and devoid of noise; apart from a few palace attendants sweeping and cleaning, that beautiful figure was nowhere to be seen.

Qi Yan proceeded deeper into the inner chambers, chancing upon Wei Zhen’s maidservant and asked, “Where has your mistress gone?”

“Your Majesty, today a distinguished lady from outside the palace has entered to pay her respects to the princess. The princess has gone with her to the imperial gardens to admire the flowers.”

Even within the Jin palace, those maids still referred to Wei Zhen as “Princess.”

Compared to the title “Consort of the Jin King,” Wei Zhen much preferred being called “Wei Princess.” Thus, Qi Yan had specifically instructed the attendants to privately address her as “Princess” in the future.

The maid asked respectfully, “Does Your Majesty have business with the princess? Shall I seek her out and convey a message on your behalf?”

“No need.” Qi Yan interrupted as he took a sip of tea, then rose again, saying, “I will go to her myself.”

Having finished the day’s governmental discussions, he found himself with leisure at hand.

By the pond in the imperial gardens, finery and perfumes drifted on the breeze, the scene dazzling to behold. The noble ladies held paper kites in their hands.

The sky overhead was clear and pure, as lustrous as the finest porcelain, beams of sunlight filtering through the clouds in a radiant warmth.

Wei Zhen looked up, gazing at the kite as it soared ever higher, its long black swallow tail streaming in the wind across the sky.

A maid nearby laughed and pointed toward the kite, but just then, a gust swept through; the kite broke free from its string and wobbled as it fell toward the ground.

It landed at the far edge of the lawn. Wei Zhen was about to order someone to retrieve it when a figure, faster than anyone else, stooped to pick it up.

At such a distance, she couldn’t see the newcomer’s face clearly, only noting his tall and elegant form. As he approached, all the onlookers instinctively stepped aside, clearing a path.

“Greetings to the King of Jin,” the ladies intoned in unison.

Qi Yan gestured for them to rise, signaling that there was no need for formality on his account. He encouraged the assembled women to continue flying their kites as they pleased.

Amidst the warbling of orioles and swallows, Qi Yan approached Wei Zhen and handed her the kite.

Wei Zhen smiled warmly. “What brings you here? Weren’t you in discussions about state affairs with Zuo Ying?”

Qi Yan heaved a gentle sigh, his voice low and intimate. “That’s already concluded. Alone, I was quite bored. My thoughts kept wandering to you, wondering what you might be doing. I found I could not focus on anything else—so I simply came to find you.”

Amusement shone in his eyes as Wei Zhen accepted the kite and looked down to inspect where the string had snapped, the corners of her lips lifted. “We’ve only been apart for such a short while, and you already missed me so?”

“Of course.” He replied as if he hadn’t needed to think at all, “If I didn’t come looking for you, I would only be surrounded by those ministers in court and endless unresolved government matters. Why should I seek trouble for myself when I have nothing better to do?”

Wei Zhen couldn’t stifle her laughter. His nature was always free-spirited and uninhibited, and when he ascended the throne, it was only because Ji Wo had abdicated under pressure, and it was a situation he could not refuse. Managing state affairs was always something of a hardship for him. As a result, he handled only military matters himself, entrusting other government business to Wei Zhen and Zuo Ying.

She reached out and hooked her finger around his, drawing him to her side. “Help me with this kite—the string broke. How can I fix it?”

Qi Yan glanced at her, then bent to examine the kite. “Do you have new kite string?”

A palace maid stepped forward, presenting a tray with fresh string. Qi Yan accepted it, and together they moved aside to repair the kite.

Not long after, he had deftly retied the strings. An attendant took the kite, raced forward, and released it; the swallow, caught in the breeze, soared aloft once more.

Wei Zhen’s eyes reflected the image of the kite in the sky; turning to the man beside her, she smiled.

Once more, in the view of all assembled, the black swallow-shaped kite appeared. The King of Jin held the string, while his consort clasped his arm with both hands, the two gazing up together. Their posture was intimate, all others fading from attention.

The King and Princess Wei were remarkably affectionate, unashamed of displaying their closeness before others. The noblewomen present couldn’t help but let their thoughts wander.

In the early days of Qi Yan’s reign, there had been no shortage of ambitious families in the capital—hoping to persuade the king to fill his harem, or to send their eligible daughters to the palace. After all, throughout history, which sovereign had not kept a myriad of beautiful concubines?

However, Princess Wei’s status was unique. She had her own territory, commanded her own troops, and governed both Chu and Wei. No one dared oppose her lightly.

Furthermore, filling the harem required the king’s own willingness. If he desired it, it would be easy to gather beauties from all under heaven. Yet so much time had passed—the harem remained quiet.

There was only one reason: the king himself had no wish for concubines.

And who did not know that the King and Princess Wei had weathered adversity together, surviving hardship side by side?

Any household foolish enough to present beauties now would be showing themselves off and declaring themselves enemies of the princess—a thankless role indeed.

Thus, even after a year of marriage, no minister dared utter a single word about the harem.

From aristocrats to commoners, all continued to speak with relish of the old stories of the king and princess.

On this day, the two flew kites together, both dressed in splendid finery, young and handsome, a pairing pleasing to the eye.

Qi Yan reached out to wrap his arm about her waist. Wei Zhen sensed the watchful, surreptitious glances from the crowd and said, “With so many people here, don’t hold me so closely.”

Qi Yan laughed softly but did not release her. “Then you fly the kite, yourself?”

Wei Zhen made no answer, watching the kite rise ever higher.

As afternoon drew near, the sunlight became too harsh for comfort, and it was no longer suitable to prolong their outing. Qi Yan retrieved the kite, instructing the attendants to pack it away, and, taking his companion’s hand, said, “Let’s go.”

Wei Zhen protested, “Those noble ladies are still waiting on me.”

Qi Yan regarded her, and she bit her lip softly. Lately, ever since their return to the palace, private moments together had become scarce. In truth, she disliked neglecting him for the sake of such social obligations. She smiled: “Wait for me a moment. I’ll say a word to them and arrange lunch and rest for them in the guest palace.”

Qi Yan nodded. Wei Zhen gave the necessary orders and soon returned, taking his arm in hers. “Where are you taking me?”

Qi Yan only grasped her hand more tightly, “Just come with me.”

Wei Zhen had no idea what surprise he was planning, but let herself be led away from the lawn. Before long, they reached the shore of another lake, wide and calm, where a small, unassuming boat was moored among the sheltering flowers.

Qi Yan boarded the boat first and held out his hand to her. “Come aboard.”

Wei Zhen took his hand, no sooner doing so than he pulled her gently onto the boat.

The vessel rocked as it set off, and Wei Zhen, watching the man at the oars across from her, asked, “Why have you brought me here today?”

The boat glided from the wide lake into a narrow river, willow trees and blossoms growing thick on each bank, tall trees casting shadows that concealed the couple’s forms.

Wei Zhen looked all around; Qi Yan smiled and said, “Last year, we returned together to your home in Chu. When you left, you were so reluctant, saying you didn’t know when you would be able to return again. So I thought I would rearrange the Jin palace to match the layout of your home in Chu. Does this place remind you of your old home’s garden?”

Wei Zhen turned, her eyes alight. More than just a resemblance—it was nearly identical.

Aromatic lotuses floated on the water, a fresh breeze stirring their leaves, colors of pale green and deep red all around her—just like the scene when she used to nap alone in a boat on an afternoon during her girlhood.

Back then, she loved to slip away and doze on the boat, a gentle breeze rippling over the water, nothing more peaceful or refreshing.

Returning to Chu with Qi Yan, she had mentioned these memories in passing—never expecting he would remember and go to such lengths to recreate her family garden in the palace at Jin.

The small boat parted the water; Wei Zhen’s face was reflected in the ripples. She trailed her wrist in the water, plucked a lotus bud nearby, and, leaning forward, the boat rocked as she fell into his arms, tilting her head up to present the blossom to him. “A gift for my beloved gentleman.”

Qi Yan’s gaze lifted from the budding lotus to her face. The lotus was a vivid, dripping red—yet it could not rival the radiance of her flushed cheeks.

Wrapping both arms around his waist, Wei Zhen watched as he leaned slightly back, making space for her to come closer. Raising an eyebrow, he teased, “Didn’t you say just now not to be so close?^1”

Wei Zhen’s bright eyes narrowed mischievously. “That was just because others were present. Now that there’s no one about, I can hold my beloved as I wish.”

Qi Yan lowered his head, smiling. “But up ahead we’ll soon reach the riverbank. The attendants are waiting there. If they see us like this… hmm?”

With his chin brushing her hair, Wei Zhen reclined in his arms and met his sparkling gaze. “Then we just won’t let them notice.”

The boat drifted lazily beneath a small bridge, and as the light dimmed, she encircled his neck with her arms and drew his face down to hers.

The oars slipped aside as the gentleman pulled the slender girl close by the waist.

His cool, fresh fragrance filled Wei Zhen’s senses. She released his lips and, sliding lower, felt the warmth of his robe. Closing her eyes languidly, she said, “I’m a little sleepy. Will you nap with me for a while?”

Qi Yan’s voice came, clear and bright, filled with laughter. “Of course.”

Shadows slanted across the water, the light shimmering pale and gentle. It was the perfect afternoon for a nap. Light green leaves drifted down from the trees, settling on the intertwined figures dozing together.

By the time Wei Zhen and Qi Yan disembarked, it was nearly dusk.

Qi Yan carried the lotus leaves and flowers she had picked in one arm, his other hand clasping hers as they strolled leisurely back to the sleeping quarters.

Inside, Wei Zhen placed the lotus in a vase and trimmed the stem before asking, “Does it look better like this?”

The man who had just been sitting behind her was nowhere in sight.

Outside the courtyard, his voice reached her. Wei Zhen set aside her shears and stepped out, finding that a eunuch was leading a chestnut foal into the courtyard. Qi Yan stepped forward to accept the brush and began smoothing the animal’s coat.

Wei Zhen approached and took his arm. “Why bring this young horse here?”

Qi Yan only smiled in silence. After a moment he said, “This horse was a gift from Western Qiang. Though still young, it is of the blood of sweats-blood horses.* I kept it aside, thinking to give it to the child we will one day have.”

Wei Zhen was momentarily stunned. His features were limned in the golden light of the sunset as he turned to look at her, “Whether daughter or son, this horse will one day be theirs. Do you agree?”

Wei Zhen smiled and promptly tiptoed up to embrace him. “Yes.”

Qi Yan circled her waist in return. Her skirt twined with his robe in the evening breeze, the pair bathed in the warm golden glow of the setting sun.

Looking down at the woman in his arms, Qi Yan said, “When the time comes, we’ll teach them to ride and shoot together, so that they will grow up as brave as their father.”

Qi Yan laughed. “And as clever and resilient as you.”

Wei Zhen nodded, a delighted smile brightening her lips, clearly pleased by his praise.

Her womb would one day nurture his flesh and blood, and their child would undoubtedly carry both their hopes, thriving in the warmth of their love.

This would be their child.

A sweet tenderness welled up in Qi Yan’s heart. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, feeling as if every part of his being was steeped in a gentle, blissful joy.

Qi Yan turned to instruct the eunuch, “Go now, take the horse to be well cared for.”

The eunuch replied with a smile, “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Qi Yan called out, and a small dog—hearing its name—came bounding out of its kennel, wagging its tail as it followed the couple inside.

Wei Zhen rested her head on his shoulder, “Come and help me see if the flowers are trimmed well. I’d like to place the vase in our study. What do you think?”

“However you arrange them, they’re beautiful.”

“You praise them before even looking! If I trimmed them any which way, would you say it looked good? Qi Yan, how could you be like this…” She feigned a light scold.

He chuckled and said nothing.

In this gentle dusk, their figures merged into the golden shadows, as if no trouble in the world could ever touch them.

Both were adept at loving, so their child would assuredly know happiness.

No more children will be written of in this lifetime; but in a parallel world to come, children will appear there~

The next chapter will feature a side story about Zuo Ying and Le Shu, recounting their past.

^1 Explanatory footnote: In traditional Chinese etiquette, public displays of intimacy—especially between the king and consort—are considered indecorous before outsiders, so any such actions are reserved for private moments.

• • • • Explanatory footnote: “Sweats-blood horses” refers to the legendary Ferghana horses of Central Asia, highly prized in ancient China for their immense strength, speed, and endurance, so called because their sweat sometimes appeared tinged with blood. These horses were considered an extraordinary treasure, especially as a princely gift.