Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 15: Scorching Heat

Cold wind slipped through the gaps in the bamboo blinds. The young man leaned against her, water droplets sliding down his thin robes, continuously splashing onto the ground.

“Qi Yan?” Wei Zhen was held in his embrace and called out again.

His condition was terrible—his face pale, his forehead drooping against the crook of her neck. His raven-black hair was soaked with rain, and his entire body seemed to have been drenched through.

Wei Zhen wrapped one arm around him while reaching out with the other to close the palace doors. She wanted to help him to the bed, staggering backward, but the full weight of his body pressed down on her, making it impossible to support him.

A gust of wind swept past, lifting the blue curtains. The young man and the young woman tumbled onto the bed together.

By the time Wei Zhen came to her senses, a heavy body was already pressing down on her. She reached out to push him away, her hands landing on his broad chest.

Inside the bed canopy, everything was pitch black. Only a faint glimmer of moonlight filtered in through the window. Wei Zhen had night blindness—she couldn’t see a thing and had to fumble cautiously. She tried several times, breaking into a light sweat on her forehead, yet he remained motionless, pinning her down completely.

She ran out of strength and gave up struggling.

The darkness heightened her other senses. The sound of rain drizzled steadily outside, mingled with his shallow breathing.

It was just like in her past life—he had barged into her chambers without warning. The rain had been falling nonstop. She hadn’t known what had happened, only stared at him in panic, asking about his condition, unaware that he had evaded guards and assassins all the way here, utterly exhausted. He had collapsed onto her, dragging her into the bed canopy with him.

When the pursuing soldiers arrived outside the hall, he had asked her if she would turn him in.

Back then, Wei Zhen had shoved him away with all her strength, stumbling toward the door. Her robes were stained with filthy blood, and her entire body trembled as she placed a hand on the door frame in fear.

In that moment, on a strange impulse, she turned to look at the young man on the bed.

He was leaning against a bedpost, clutching his chest. Blood oozed through his fingers, his entire being so weak that he seemed as fragile as glass, about to shatter at any moment.

Wei Zhen had sent away the guards outside the hall.

Perhaps it was out of compassion, or maybe because he was her younger brother’s close friend. She had covered for him.

Yet she had clearly seen that when he spoke, his right hand had hovered over the dagger at his waist.

He had intended to kill her.

Pulling herself out of memories of her past life, a shudder climbed up Wei Zhen’s spine.

She feared that history would repeat itself, that fate was predetermined, that no matter how many times she lived, she could not change the ending.

The front of her chest was wet. She reached out and touched it—the sticky sensation of blood.

She gently pushed at him, her trembling voice calling, “Qi Yan?”

His breathing was slow and faint, carrying the chill of rain. After a long moment, he seemed to open his eyes.

Wei Zhen felt the flutter of his eyelashes against the skin of her neck, tickling her unbearably.

“Qi Yan, you’re awake?”

They were extremely close. His warm breath fell against her neck.

Wei Zhen’s chest rose and fell. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders as she tilted her head back and asked, “Are you alright? Is the wound on your chest serious?”

Her voice was filled with concern. Qi Yan slowly opened his eyes, seeing his own reflection in the depths of her watery gaze.

Had he successfully escaped the Crown Prince’s attack?

Everything had started four hours ago—

After Wei Zhen’s warning, Qi Yan had been secretly investigating the traitor within the Qi family. In the end, he confirmed that it was his uncle, Qi Xun.

The letters exchanged between the Crown Prince and Qi Xun were filled with their collusion. Qi Xun had long been gathering fabricated evidence, planning to frame the Qi family on the night of the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet, ensuring its downfall.

The royal family’s move against the Qi clan needed only an excuse—to make sure that Qi Yan and his father would never return.

Whether the evidence was real or not didn’t matter at all.

Since the charges were fabricated, they were full of loopholes.

Over the past five days, Qi Yan had found a way to counter the accusations and gathered proof to clear his name.

For years, Qi Xun and General Qi had guarded the borders together. This time, the two brothers had traveled thousands of miles to return to the capital for the Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration.

They arrived in the afternoon.

Qi Yan had been waiting outside the Qi residence. When he saw that all-too-familiar figure, he smiled and said, “Uncle, it’s been a long time.”

Qi Xun laughed heartily, dismounted, lightly patted Qi Yan on the shoulder, and led him inside.

Rain poured down like a flood, the sky ominously dark as if a great rift had opened.

Qi Yan fell a few steps behind, watching the tall figure ahead.

A guard at his side handed him an arrow. Qi Yan took up his longbow. When he aimed at Qi Xun’s back, an image surfaced in his mind—the memory of his uncle’s laughter as he taught him to ride under the scorching northern sun.

Qi Xun, a veteran general who had fought countless battles, sensed something amiss in an instant. He turned around with a loud shout, and his men surged forward from all directions, clashing with the Qi family guards in a chaotic melee.

Blades clashed against blades, the sound of battle echoing over the courtyard.

It took considerable time to deal with those pitiful rebels. But it didn’t matter—Qi Xun was eventually dragged before Qi Yan.

His face was contorted with rage, his mouth opening as if to shout. Qi Yan had no patience to listen. With a single stroke, his blade pierced through Qi Xun’s throat.

The blood splattered across his face. Qi Yan wiped it away with long, elegant fingers. He tossed the severed head onto a tray at the side.

And then, the Crown Prince arrived.

Qi Yan said, “Let him in.”

The courtyard was strewn with corpses, blood pooling everywhere. The Crown Prince, still on horseback, turned pale at the sight, hesitating before finally crossing the threshold.

Qi Yan said, “I was just disciplining a traitor within my household. It’s unfortunate that Your Highness happened to witness it.”

A soldier behind the Crown Prince stepped forward, presenting a stack of documents with both hands.

The Crown Prince picked up the topmost sheet. “The Qi family has committed treason, colluding with enemy states. The crimes listed here are beyond redemption. Qi Yan, do you admit to them?”

“Men—” A voice rang out from behind the Crown Prince, and soldiers raised their bows in unison.

Qi Yan smiled. “Had I not already uncovered Your Highness’s schemes with my uncle, I might have been frightened by your accusations. But earlier today, I presented evidence to the Empress Dowager. If Your Highness claims that the Qi family is guilty of treason, why not ask the Empress Dowager herself?”

The Crown Prince’s face stiffened. “You…”

The young man stepped forward from the shadows, his boots splashing through the water, like a grim reaper emerging from the darkness. His gaze was indifferent.

“Treason? What is treason?”

“To betray the emperor’s orders, to defy his decree—that is treason.”

With a sharp metallic sound, the long sword in his hand slid free of its sheath, its blade flashing with cold light.

In a situation no one had anticipated, the sword slashed toward the attendant holding the documents. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the robes of those present.

With a resounding thud, the attendant collapsed to the ground, his head rolling forward until it stopped at the hooves of the crown prince’s horse.

The severed head’s eyes remained fixed on Qi Yan, filled with disbelief and terror.

Blood splattered across the pale face of the young man, strikingly vivid.

Qi Yan spoke, his tone unhurried, “This is what rebellion truly looks like. Does Your Highness understand now?”

Blood had also splashed onto the crown prince’s face, his throat bobbing up and down uncontrollably. Though he sat high atop his steed, he was utterly overpowered by the presence of the young man before him.

The surrounding guards unsheathed their swords, all aimed at the young man standing in the center of the courtyard.

Footsteps sounded at the entrance. This time, it was an attendant trusted by the Empress Dowager.

“Your Highness, tonight’s incident was orchestrated by you alone, in direct defiance of both the Empress Dowager and His Majesty’s will. Upon learning of it, the Empress Dowager flew into a rage and demands your immediate return.”

The crown prince gripped the reins so tightly that his palms bled.

Qi Yan lowered his gaze to the grotesque head on the ground. “And be sure to wrap up Vice General Qi Xun’s head as well. Send it back to His Highness together.”

With that, Qi Yan left the Qi estate with his men.

He mounted his horse and rode straight to the palace. As for why the first person he sought was Wei Zhen, Qi Yan himself couldn’t quite say.

Perhaps it was because she had repeatedly sent people to inquire about his well-being. Or perhaps it was because he simply wanted her to know.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, its glow shifting across the bed canopy like flowing water.

Qi Yan looked at Wei Zhen and, suppressing the pain, said, “I am fine. The Qi family is also fine. I’ve only sustained a few injuries, nothing too serious.”

The girl’s gaze was unfocused as she raised her hand to touch his abdomen, murmuring softly, “Young General, my vision is a little unclear.”

Qi Yan shifted slightly to let her get off the bed, but the movement tugged at his wound, making him draw in a sharp breath.

Wei Zhen carefully climbed down and groped her way forward for quite some time before finally finding the candle.

As the flame flickered to life, the room was once again bathed in light.

She returned to the bedside. The young man was leaning against the bedpost, his hand clutching the wound on his chest, his eyes closed in silent exhaustion. No matter how many times she called him, he did not respond.

After an entire day of battle, then riding through the rain for over ten miles just to come here, even a man of iron would have collapsed.

He was always mindful of etiquette, impeccably mannered. If not for the excruciating pain, he would never have lost consciousness so easily.

But for Wei Zhen, the situation left her at a complete loss.

A foreign man had suddenly appeared in her private bedchamber—how utterly scandalous. If she called for her nursemaid, it would surely alert others. With no other option, she rummaged through a cabinet for bandages and scissors to tend to his wounds herself.

Clutching the medicine bottle, she knelt on the footstool and called softly, “Qi Yan?”

His robes were soaked through with blood, darkening the fabric to an alarming degree.

Wei Zhen hesitated for a moment before reaching toward his waist.

She seemed to recall a similar scene from her past life—

After the search party had left, Qi Yan had forced himself to rise and attempted to leave. But he was drenched in blood, gravely wounded, and every step he took was as if walking on the edge of a blade, utterly agonizing.

He had asked to stay the night in her chamber.

Wei Zhen’s eyes had fallen on the dagger at his waist, terrified that he might use it to threaten her. She had repeatedly assured him that she would not turn him in.

In the dead of night, the stench of blood was so strong that she could not sleep. She had lit a lamp and stepped down from her bed, only to see him curled up in the corner, back turned to her, seemingly enduring unbearable pain.

He had searched every cabinet in the room but had only found some bandages and scissors, eventually using water to simply wipe his wounds clean.

Wei Zhen had placed the medicine bottle and lamp beside him. The dim candlelight illuminated half of his body.

She had tried to conceal her fear and said, “I can help you.”

The young man had lifted his head, his eyes filled with wariness and distance.

She had avoided meeting his gaze and added, “The Wei family has soldiers stationed in the south. I’ve assisted in tending to wounded soldiers before—I have experience in bandaging. I can pretend none of this ever happened. If I help the Young General, would the General be willing to spare me in return?”

She had added that last part out of fear that he might be too suspicious.

In the end, she had helped him dress his wounds.

The dreamlike past overlapped with the present.

When his soaked robes were removed, they revealed a slender yet well-defined waist.

Wei Zhen lowered her head to retrieve the bandages.

His chest wound was hideous, with blood trickling down his torso, gliding over the taut muscles of his waist and abdomen before disappearing into the fabric below.

She dared not look too closely.

Dipping a cloth in water, she began to gently wipe the blood from his skin.

Her hand rested against his chest. Even through the soft fabric, she could feel the texture of his skin, the taut muscles of his lower abdomen, and the faintly raised veins along his waist—

A burning heat emanated from his body.

As the cloth moved downward along the lines of his waist, he suddenly opened his eyes.

The medicine bottle slipped from her fingers, shattering with a soft “clink” as the powder scattered across his body.

He caught her wrist, their breaths mingling, the distance between them reduced to nothing.

In the stillness of the night, the candle flame crackled, sending sparks flying—scattering an unspoken intimacy into the air.