Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 23: The Memorial Tablet

Wei Zhen was barely covered by a thin layer of gauze, her bare legs exposed to the air. Hearing the soldier say that they could humiliate her at will, an overwhelming sense of shame surged within her.

From her angle, she could only see the corner of a robe before her, yet even that was enough to show the imposing figure of the man. His entire presence exuded a sharp and cold aura.

A long and slender hand, resting on his knee, reached toward her. The delicate skin of her chin was pressed against his palm, forcing her to lift her head and meet a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Under his gaze, Wei Zhen felt her entire body heat up. She shifted her exposed calf slightly, trying to move away from him.

“Chu Queen?”

“Yes, General, she is indeed the Queen of Chu,” the soldier behind her replied ingratiatingly. “The number one beauty of the Six Kingdoms is right before you. After all, what could be more satisfying than having the enemy queen submit beneath you and serve you?”

Blood splattered.

Wei Zhen had not even seen the movement of the man drawing his sword when the soldier who had spoken collapsed beside her.

Qi Yan cut the ropes binding her with his sword, tossed a blanket from the bed to her, and then turned to face the screen, his back to her.

Wei Zhen clutched the blanket tightly, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Qi Yan said, “I will take you back.”

After many years, they met again, yet neither had expected it to be under such circumstances.

She was the Queen of Chu.

He had become a general of Jin.

No one knew how he had left Chu or what he had endured in Jin. However, ever since the name “Qi Yan” emerged in the north of Jin, it had become a looming shadow over the entire Chu Kingdom.

Wei Zhen remained in the Jin military camp for some time to recover from her injuries. Once healed, she was sent back to Chu, but what awaited her upon her return was her husband’s interrogation.

“Did you lose your chastity to Qi Yan? Were you forced to serve him?”

Jing Heng threw a dagger in front of her and said coldly, “As the Queen of a nation, you should have known your duty the moment you were captured, rather than returning to Chu.”

A queen falling into the hands of the enemy would undoubtedly be used as a bargaining chip in negotiations. Yet, the enemy had not done so; instead, they had sent her back completely unharmed.

How could the world believe in such kindness?

Surely, they had already gotten what they wanted from Wei Zhen.

In the imperial court and within the harem, rumors about the Queen and Qi Yan spread ceaselessly. Had Jing Heng spoken a single word in her defense, the rumors would not have escalated.

But he remained silent.

Later, Jin and Chu negotiated peace, with discussions held at the border. By then, Qi Yan had already eradicated the rebel factions in Jin and had become its undisputed king.

The negotiations involved not only the two kingdoms but also rulers from other nations, who had come to sign the peace treaty.

Yet, among all the monarchs present, only the King of Chu brought his queen along.

This action inevitably invited speculation.

At the alliance gathering, many noticed the subtle and complex connection between the Queen of Chu and the King of Jin.

Jing Heng frequently hinted to Wei Zhen in private, using threats and bribes to persuade her to approach the King of Jin and secure better terms for Chu.

When Wei Zhen refused, he used her younger brother, Wei Ling, as leverage. At the time, Wei Ling had been accused of wrongdoing. Though he had defended the southern borders of Chu from enemy forces and secured victory, the cost had been too great—too many soldiers had perished.

Hearing her husband utter such words made Wei Zhen feel a revulsion unlike anything she had ever experienced. She firmly stated that no matter what, she would not seek out the King of Jin.

That was the moment their relationship was completely severed.

Yet, she had not anticipated that attending the alliance gathering alongside the King of Chu would be seen by some as proof that she was still useful to him.

Wei Zhang, under the guise of Wei Yao, had the palace servants poison her meals in an attempt to eliminate her once and for all.

Wei Zhen detected the poison in time, but it had already entered her system. The royal physicians managed to force it out with acupuncture, but the poison had damaged her eyes, leaving her nearly blind.

As a child, she had been pushed onto the rocks by Wei Yao, causing her to lose her night vision. Now, as an adult, she was harmed by Wei Zhang’s poison, leaving her almost completely sightless—no different from having her eyes gouged out.

Wei Zhen sat in silence day and night, as though weeping blood.

She had made up her mind.

With the sword her younger brother left behind, she personally went to kill Wei Zhang.

She sat alone in the pool of blood, surrounded by its heavy stench, waiting for Jing Heng to arrive.

Given the weight of Wei Zhang’s crimes—attempting to poison the Queen—it was rare for Jing Heng to show any guilt toward her.

He claimed he would spare Wei Ling and disregard his past offenses, but in exchange, Wei Zhen was forbidden from harming Wei Yao.

He knew that with Wei Zhen’s temperament, she would rather die than let things go.

Wei Zhen smiled and agreed.

But as Jing Heng approached, she pulled out another dagger hidden in her sleeve and plunged it into his heart with all her strength.

She had chosen a path of mutual destruction.

She heard the panicked cries of the guards shouting “Protect the King!”

Yet, in the end, the dagger had deviated slightly from its mark.

Assassinating the king was a capital offense.

But Wei Zhen knew that Chu had no capable generals left. Jing Heng needed her brother. How could he possibly take her life?

She was placed under house arrest in the Queen’s chambers, forbidden to step out without summons.

Meanwhile, the residual poison in her body caused her health to decline rapidly.

When spring passed, the royal physicians diagnosed that she did not have much time left.

She left the capital and traveled north to an abandoned palace in the remote regions of Chu to rest.

It was a desolate, barren place, no different from exile.

But because of that, Jing Heng allowed her to go.

Wei Zhen remembered very clearly—her few moments of happiness in her later years were found there.

The first half of her life had been filled with turmoil, without parents, constantly drifting.

But here, accompanied by maids and guards, she could ride horses, pick flowers, climb mountains, and watch the evening glow.

She found fleeting solace.

Standing upon the ancient plains, she let the long wind brush against her face. Though her vision was darkness, she felt as though she could see the sky overhead, crows scattering in the dusk, golden light breaking through the clouds and illuminating her.

Standing beneath the vast heavens, she felt as though she had finally transcended it all.

In her final days, Wei Zhen had a message sent to her brother—her last letter.

She wrote:

“The fate of Chu is sealed. The world will soon belong to Jin. Go to Jin. Serve Jin. The King of Jin will accomplish great things.”

Her life slipped away like spring light between her fingers.

In the final month of spring, the Queen of Chu passed away in the abandoned palace.

The candle beside her burned.

Lying on her pillow, her eyes damp, tears slid down her cheeks, soaking the hair at her temples.

It felt like she had lived an entire lifetime in one long dream.

But the dream was not over yet.

She saw what came after—

The borders of Chu were engulfed in war.

The peace treaty was torn apart by the King of Jin, who led his elite cavalry south, storming through Chu’s lands like a pack of wolves, heading straight for the capital.

On the day the royal city fell, the palace was in chaos, concubines fleeing for their lives.

Consort Yao abandoned the King of Chu.

Jing Heng was captured by the Jin army and brought to the palace temple, where Wei Zhen’s memorial tablet stood.

In the hall of worship, one man stood.

The young general of the past had now become the King of Jin.

His tall, cold figure was like an immovable mountain.

He slowly turned around.

His eyes were filled with a ruthless killing intent as he looked down upon the once-mighty King of Chu.

“Wei Ling,” he called.

The young man beside him handed over a dagger. The Jin King took slow, deliberate steps forward, stopping before the Chu King. With his thumb pressed against the hilt, the sharp blade was drawn, its cold edge pressing against the Chu King’s throat.

Qi Yan lifted the man’s head with his large hand. “Sending her back to Chu was the most regretful thing I’ve done in my life.”

Jing Heng, kneeling on the ground, looked up at him and let out a burst of cold laughter, almost crazed. “Jin King, oh Jin King, I knew it! You really did have an affair with her!”

His eyes turned red in an instant, struggling to rise like a trapped beast in its final desperate fight, only to be forcefully pressed back down by the soldiers.

Qi Yan’s gaze remained steady. A low, chilling sound echoed in the hall—the sound of the blade slicing through skin, cutting into flesh and bone. Something hot splattered out.

“Yet it’s a pity, Your Majesty,” Jing Heng choked out, his voice hoarse and weak. “You destroyed my Chu Kingdom, ravaged my homeland… But even if you become the ruler of all under heaven, what of it? She—until the day she died—was still my queen, the queen of Chu. You still could never have her, could you?”

Jing Heng’s final words lingered in the vast and empty hall.

His corpse was dragged away, leaving behind a long, horrifying trail of blood.

The crimson stained Qi Yan’s dark robes. He turned toward the altar and stared at the memorial tablet for a long time. His eyes closed, his Adam’s apple moved as if swallowing something deep within.

“…I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, meant only for her.

A single tear fell from the corner of his eye.

One hand braced against the table, the dim candlelight flickered around him, casting his shadow long and solitary. In that moment, he looked utterly exhausted.

On the day Chu fell, the Jin King issued a decree that shocked the world—

He would take the Chu Queen’s memorial tablet as his wife.

Qi Yan carried her tablet back to Jin.

The palace in Jin had a hundred steps leading to its grand hall. Holding the tablet in both hands, he ascended them step by step. Nobles and courtiers knelt on either side, bowing as the king and his new queen passed.

The people prostrated themselves before the Jin King and his queen, lifting their heads to watch as he entered the royal hall. The heavy doors closed behind him, sealing him within the vast darkness.

As if marking the beginning of a long, lonely lifetime.

——

Wei Zhen woke from her dream, tears brimming in her eyes, her hair damp with sweat.

Maidservant Tian, hearing the sound of quiet sobs outside the tent, rushed in. “Miss, what’s wrong?”

Wei Zhen threw herself into her embrace, weeping softly. No matter how Maidservant Tian comforted her, she wouldn’t stop.

“Miss, are you worried about the journey north for the marriage alliance? Don’t worry, I will be with you.”

Wei Zhen’s body trembled, her voice choked with emotion. The sorrow from her dream still clung to her, her heart aching dully in her chest. She cried until she had no more strength left, finally quieting down.

Maidservant Tian helped her to the dressing table, combing her hair. Wei Zhen lifted her head and saw her reflection in the bronze mirror—a young girl, youthful and radiant. So different from the gaunt and withered woman in her dream.

She had glimpsed a fragment of her past life.

Though her state of mind now was entirely different, she could still feel the same sorrow.

So, in her past life, this was the fate she suffered.

Marrying Jing Heng had been nothing but a tragedy. Yet she had never imagined that Qi Yan would take her memorial tablet as his wife after her death.

Maidservant Tian said, “Miss, the young general and the young master are waiting outside.”

Wei Zhen hesitated. “Qi Yan is outside?”

“Yes, the young general has been waiting for half an hour already.”

Maidservant Tian took out a fine silk dress from the wardrobe. Wei Zhen finished her preparations, but before she could even put on her shoes and socks, she lifted her skirt and ran outside.

The spring breeze carried the scent of new blossoms as she rushed barefoot through the corridors. The beaded curtains swayed as she passed, her spring dress fluttering in the wind.

Beyond the curtain, two figures stood in the courtyard. Her heart pounded faster, but her steps gradually slowed.

A sudden nervousness seized her, making her hesitate to move forward.

After a long pause, she lifted her hand, pushing aside the curtain. The sunlight spilled in at once.

The crisp sound of jade pendants clinking together rang out. The two young men in the courtyard turned at the sound.

The girl who emerged was dignified and radiant, breathtakingly beautiful.

The morning breeze stirred her spring robes. She stood beneath the eaves, wrapped in the soft golden mist of dawn, like a delicate green peony blooming in the wind.

She was always reserved and composed, but when her gaze met Qi Yan’s, a smile spread across her face.

Her eyes, clear and bright, seemed to hold the shimmering waters of Chu, tender and dazzling, stunning enough to make one hold their breath.

Softly, she called his name. “Qi Yan.”

The spring light reflected in her eyes, and Qi Yan’s gaze trembled, as if struck.

The wind passed between them, rustling the leaves, whispering like an unspoken heartbeat.

Qi Yan turned his face slightly away. After a long moment, he stepped forward.

The young man walked toward her, his figure cutting through the golden sunlight. Wei Zhen’s red lips curved into a brilliant smile.

He reached out a hand toward her.

She looked down at his palm.

Raising a brow, he asked with a smirk, “Miss Wei, are you ready?”

Her hand slowly lifted, touching his fingertips.

“…I am.”

The carriage door closed.

Wei Zhen slipped on her shoes, adjusted her attire, and sat inside. Soon, the carriage began to sway as it moved. She turned her head slightly, watching the young man riding alongside.

As if sensing her gaze, Qi Yan turned his head too. Their eyes met briefly through the thin bamboo curtain before quickly shifting away.

Wei Zhen lowered her gaze, fingers tightening around the handkerchief in her lap.

A knock came against the carriage wall.

She looked up.

He had ridden closer, his lips parting as if to say something, but then he hesitated, swallowing his words.

Wei Zhen gripped the fabric in her hands.

If he wouldn’t speak, she wouldn’t either.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed it—

The faint red flush creeping up the back of his ears.

Qi Yan leaned in again, lifting the curtain. Sunlight filtered in, casting a glow over his striking features, his dark eyes burning with intensity.

Beyond the curtain, Wei Ling was speaking, but Wei Zhen’s ears rang, muffling all other sounds.

Because Qi Yan had leaned closer, tilting his head down, lips brushing against her ear as he spoke in a low murmur—

“Wei Zhen, you look beautiful today.”

——

In this chapter, the past life shown is from Wei Zhen’s perspective. However, in truth, there were many moments between them in the past life that she never knew.

From Qi Yan’s point of view, another story unfolds. That will be revealed bit by bit.