Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 31: Intertwined Hands

Outside the carriage, there was a brief moment of silence. Qi Yan said, “Did I?”

A hand slowly lifted the curtain, and the person behind it spoke, “The maids frequently come to pass messages to the princess. I must relay them on their behalf. What dissatisfaction does Your Highness Jiwo have about this? You may tell me directly, and I will change.”

The sparse evening glow filtered through the treetops, casting light upon the forest. The young man leaned against the carriage wall, his expression languid, an eyebrow slightly raised as he gazed at Jiwo.

He said he would change, but with such an attitude, did he really seem like someone who would?

Qi Yan curved his lips. “Am I disturbing Your Highness Jiwo’s time alone with the princess?”

Hearing the words “alone,” Jiwo’s cheeks burned. “Of course not.”

The other scrutinized him with great interest, like a lazy yet elegant lion, as if Jiwo were the one intruding upon his territory.

Calming down, Jiwo realized his reaction had been too impulsive. He was, by nature, someone with thin skin. The thought of others listening to their conversation made him even more uneasy. He said, “Since the princess and the young general still have their qin lesson, I shall not disturb you.”

“If the opportunity arises, may I have another discussion with the princess?”

Wei Zhen smiled. “Of course.”

Jiwo bowed and slowly withdrew.

Wei Zhen moved her gaze from the curtain to Qi Yan. “Young General, don’t we usually have our qin lessons after I have bathed? Why is it so early today?”

What she also didn’t understand was why he had interrupted her conversation with Jiwo multiple times.

Qi Yan replied, “Today, I want to finish your lesson earlier so I can go back and rest.”

He leaned in, and before Wei Zhen could step back, his face was already inches away. “It was your younger brother who asked me to stay by your side. He’s afraid other men will covet you and told me to keep an eye on them, not allowing them to get close or be too familiar with you.”

His deep voice brushed against her earlobe, like rough sandpaper grazing her heart.

Wei Zhen’s ears tingled. He said no other men were allowed to approach her, yet he was leaning in so intimately—did that not count?

She changed the subject. “Then, is the young general coming in to teach now?”

Qi Yan nodded and let the curtain fall. Not long after, the carriage swayed as he bent down and stepped inside.

The interior of the carriage was quite spacious, yet with his presence, it suddenly felt cramped.

Liang Chan retrieved a paulownia qin from the cabinet and placed it on the table.

She respectfully withdrew, leaving only the two of them inside.

Wei Zhen rested her hands on the qin’s surface. The moment she plucked a string, a sharp pain shot through her fingertip.

Her unhealed wound was cut open again by the string, and tiny drops of blood stained the qin.

Qi Yan noticed her trembling fingers, the continuous seep of blood, and his brows furrowed slightly. “Your hand is injured; you can’t play the qin. I had the servants bring you medicine before—did you not have time to apply it?”

Wei Zhen shook her head.

Qi Yan picked up the medicine bottle from the cabinet. “Come here, I’ll help you apply it.”

Wei Zhen stood up from the table and moved to stand in front of him. He gestured for her to extend her hand, and she complied. Initially, she worried he might use too much force, but he held her hand so gently, as if it were as light as a feather.

The young general poured the powder onto her wound, and a burning sensation immediately spread through her fingertip. Wei Zhen instinctively tried to pull her hand back, but Qi Yan firmly held it in place.

“Bear with it,” he said.

He pulled her closer so that they were seated face-to-face. His touch was meticulous and gentle as he applied the medicine.

Wei Zhen’s gaze happened to fall upon his eyes.

The candlelight traced the contours of his face—high nose, thin lips, stunningly sharp features. Others said he was like the blazing sun in the sky, dazzling and unattainable, something to be admired from afar but never touched. Yet, when his gaze softened upon her, his eyes gleamed like precious gemstones, stirring an itch in the heart.

Suddenly, Qi Yan’s long lashes lifted, and he caught her staring.

Wei Zhen averted her eyes, lowering her gaze. That was when she noticed—her hand was intertwined with his fingers.

It had happened inadvertently while he was applying the medicine.

She instinctively curled her fingers slightly. Her palm tingled, still warm from his touch. He reminded her, “Until your wound heals, try not to get your hand wet. And don’t play the qin for now.”

Wei Zhen nodded. “Alright.”

He watched her for a moment before speaking again. “Wei Zhen, you didn’t need to make a bamboo hat for me, especially since it caused you to hurt yourself.”

Wei Zhen said, “It’s just a small injury. I’m not so delicate that I can’t handle a little pain.”

“I didn’t mean that you’re delicate—I meant you don’t have to suffer for my sake.”

His voice, clear and magnetic, was so close. Wei Zhen turned her head slightly and saw their silhouettes cast against the window by the candlelight. The outlines of a young man and woman, their heads leaning close in whispered conversation, as if sharing an intimate moment.

She instinctively moved back, but Qi Yan pulled her back, tightening their interlocked hands. Their robes, draped over the floor, overlapped.

Wei Zhen answered, “Young General, when I made the hat for you, I didn’t think too much about it. I simply wanted to. I know you’re saying this because you don’t want to trouble me, but it’s really no trouble at all.”

“Do you like the bamboo hat, Young General?”

The dim candlelight softened her features. At such close range, he could see the delicate curl of her lashes. Qi Yan’s heart wavered slightly under her gaze. In a hushed voice, he said, “I do.”

Wei Zhen smiled gently.

Qi Yan snapped out of his thoughts, released her hand, and said, “No qin lesson today. Remember to change your bandages regularly—wounds can’t be covered for too long in the summer.”

Wei Zhen replied, “I understand.”

Qi Yan lifted the curtain. “Then I’ll be going.”

Wei Zhen watched him leave, then looked down at her palm. The warmth from his grip still lingered.

Qi Yan had said he would keep other men away from her. He wouldn’t let them get too close, wouldn’t let them be too familiar with her.

But what counted as being too familiar? The way they had just spoken, their hands intertwined—did that count?

Wei Zhen’s thick lashes lowered, veiling her emotions.

The next morning, before dawn, the convoy set off.

Qi Yan and Wei Ling rode side by side on horseback. Morning mist rose from the mountain streams, and the cool breeze brought a refreshing chill. The young men, perched atop their steeds, their garments fluttering, looked heroic and unrestrained.

Wei Zhen sat by the window, her head lowered over a book. Qi Yan’s voice carried in with the wind. “How’s your hand?”

The hand she rested on the windowsill was suddenly caught by his.

Wei Zhen instinctively looked toward Wei Ling behind him.

Wei Ling was turned away, speaking with a servant, clearly unaware that his close friend and his elder sister were holding hands.

Wei Zhen, afraid that Wei Ling would notice, couldn’t pull away. Her fingertips flushed with tension.

She said, “Much better. It doesn’t hurt as much after a night’s rest. Thank you for coming to help me with the medicine this morning.”

Just as she spoke, Wei Ling turned back.

Wei Zhen’s heart jumped. She quickly grabbed Qi Yan’s sleeve, pulling his hand inside the carriage and using the wall as cover.

In doing so, her fingers slipped between his.

The sensation of her soft skin against his was finer than silk. He could even feel the faint pulse in her wrist.

Their gazes met. Their fingers touched. Their palms, damp with nervous sweat, pressed together.

As the carriage rolled forward, the two remained linked, fingers intertwined.

When Wei Ling rode closer, Qi Yan leaned down slightly. “I need to move ahead to lead the way. Wei Ling will stay by your side.”

With that, Qi Yan slowly released her hand and galloped ahead.

Wei Ling glanced at his retreating figure. “Why do you two stop talking whenever I come over? Do you have something to hide from me?”

Wei Zhen smiled sweetly. “Of course not. Why would I keep secrets from you?”

She appeared perfectly composed, but her heart still raced.

Wei Ling said, “Why did you make Qi Yan a bamboo hat yesterday? Escorting you is his duty. You don’t need to go out of your way for him on my account. Just treat him as an ordinary guard.”

Wei Zhen had never thought of it that way. She shook her head. “He’s the young general of Chu and the grandson of the Jin King. His status isn’t ordinary—how could I treat him casually?”

Wei Ling frowned. “Just don’t get too attached. He’s my brother, and he won’t let anything happen to you.”

Wei Zhen chuckled. “I understand.”

She smiled like a blooming flower, her bright eyes glistening, showing no signs of hiding anything from him. Wei Ling had no doubts about her.

By evening, a fierce wind rose, and dark clouds suddenly surged, almost lifting the carriage roof. The incoming storm was ferocious. Wei Ling and Qi Yan braved the rain, directing the convoy forward.

The journey to the ferry crossing was originally meant to take only three days, but due to the heavy rain delays, it took a full five days to arrive.

During this time, Wei Zhen and Qi Yan barely saw each other.

Wei Zhen boarded the deck along with the others.

The northbound fleet consisted of ten ships, with the princess’s ship in the very center, surrounded by the others for protection.

Standing on the deck, she gazed at the river and noticed a familiar figure at the bow—it was Ji Wo.

Aside from Wei Ling and Qi Yan, Jing Heng and Ji Wo were also on the same ship with her.

Since their last conversation that day, she and Ji Wo had not met privately. Now, Ji Wo was accompanied by the Jin Kingdom’s envoys. Upon seeing Wei Zhen, the envoy urged Ji Wo to step forward and speak with her.

However, Ji Wo remained rooted in place, unwilling to take a step forward, forcing an awkward and youthful smile onto his face.

Wei Zhen nodded in greeting and returned a polite smile before heading into the cabin.

At dusk, the ship set sail, breaking through the river’s surface as it journeyed north.

The soldiers stood at the bow, gazing at the scenery. The mountains on both sides were lush and green, while the river stretched endlessly into the misty horizon.

Inside the cabin, however, Wei Zhen was not faring well.

She had rarely left home while in the south and had seldom traveled by boat. Now, aboard the ship, she felt extremely unwell.

The rocking cabin made her feel as if she were floating on water, and the swirling sensation in her stomach moved with the waves.

Moreover, the continuous storm over the past few days had caused her to catch a chill while in the carriage. By nightfall, she was utterly drained, slumped over the table with no strength left.

A knock sounded at the door. Wei Zhen assumed it was Liang Chan returning from making tea and paid it no mind.

It wasn’t until a tall figure cast a shadow beside her that she turned her head, catching sight of Qi Yan.

He placed a phoenix tree zither on the table and raised an eyebrow at her.

He had come to give her a zither lesson.

Wei Ling followed closely behind, stepping into the room. “Why aren’t there any lights in the cabin? Where is the maidservant?”

Wei Zhen lacked the energy to respond.

Qi Yan stood beside the table, noticing her pale complexion. He knelt down slightly and asked, “What’s wrong?”

His face was mere inches from hers.

Wei Zhen, her breath weak and her long hair scattered over the table, whispered, “I’m fine.”

He asked, “Can you still take your lesson today?”

Hearing this, she forced herself to sit up.

The past few days of relentless rain had kept Qi Yan occupied directing the convoy, leaving him no time to instruct her. On top of that, her injured fingers had prevented her from practicing, and she had already fallen behind.

Wei Zhen feared that if she did not make up for lost time now, it would be too late by the time they reached Jin.

A wave crashed against the hull, rocking the ship violently. The girl lost her balance and stumbled forward.

Qi Yan, worried she might fall, reached out and steadied her by the arms.

Her body was weak, and she tilted her head up within his embrace, her long hair spilling over his arm.

Qi Yan lowered his gaze and asked, “Do you really want to continue, hmm?”

Wei Zhen’s eyelids grew heavier. She suspected she had caught a cold from the rain. Murmuring softly, she said, “Yes, I do.”

Not far from them, Wei Ling rummaged through a cabinet, searching for a fire striker.

“Ah Jie, Ji Wo is also on this ship. I don’t trust him, so don’t meet with him privately these next few days…”

“Whoosh—” A spark flared, splitting the darkness.

The candlelight illuminated the entire room.

Wei Ling turned around, and the sight before him froze him in place.

By the table, a man and a woman leaned into each other.

His usually composed sister was nestled weakly in his friend’s arms, whispering something close to his ear.

And his friend had not immediately pushed her away. His arm rested loosely around her slender waist.

As the cabin swayed once more, the two instinctively tightened their hold on each other, and this time, Wei Zhen completely fell into Qi Yan’s embrace.

Wei Ling’s expression stiffened. “Qi Yan, you…”