Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 32: Be Wary

Footsteps sounded as Wei Ling walked toward the table and asked, “Qi Yan, why are you holding my sister?”

The two of them turned at the same time. His voice roused Wei Zhen from her drowsiness. Realizing that she was leaning against Qi Yan’s arm, she quickly took a step back, putting distance between them.

Qi Yan’s hands slowly lowered from supporting her. He glanced at Wei Ling and said, “Your sister is seasick. Didn’t you notice?”

Wei Zhen pressed a hand to her forehead. “Just now, when that wave hit the ship, I almost fell. Thank you, Young General, for catching me.”

Qi Yan adjusted his robe and sat down beside the table, his expression calm and indifferent. Seeing Wei Ling staring at him intently, he asked in a quiet voice, “What is it?”

He looked so composed that it made it seem as if Wei Ling was overreacting.

Qi Yan continued, “Ah Ling, do you think that my actions just now—holding your sister—were improper and too presumptuous?”

Wei Ling shook his head. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

Wei Ling understood Qi Yan well. Many noble daughters in the capital admired General Qi, but if Qi Yan had any interest in such affairs, he would have acted long ago. Yet all these years, he had never been involved in any romantic scandals, proving his upright nature and reliable character.

As the saying goes, one should not covet a friend’s wife—the same applies to a friend’s sister.

Moreover, Wei Zhen’s identity was not ordinary. She was the princess sent for the peace marriage between Chu and Jin. Wei Ling knew that Qi Yan would never do anything inappropriate.

But he couldn’t deny that the scene he had just witnessed had given him a jolt.

This brief episode quickly passed. Wei Ling turned to Wei Zhen, his eyes bright. “Sister, are you feeling unwell? I’ll go find the physician and ask for some medicine for seasickness.”

Qi Yan’s fingers brushed over the surface of the phoenix tree zither.

Hearing the sound, Wei Zhen smiled and said, “Ah Ling, I have a lesson now. Practicing the zither requires silence.”

Wei Ling understood. He nodded at Qi Yan and took his leave.

The room fell into a deep quiet, broken only by the flowing melody from Qi Yan’s fingertips—elegant and distant, like shattered ice striking stone.

Wei Zhen listened in silence for a while until the music abruptly stopped. The person across from her asked, “Can you really manage a lesson right now?”

Wei Zhen was determined to practice. She touched her cheek lightly and straightened her slender back. “Last time, Young General taught me about the first volume of the zither score left by Princess Ji Qin, correct?”

Seeing that she had no intention of resting, Qi Yan lowered his hand to pluck the strings gently and refrained from persuading her further. He began the lesson.

“Yes. Last time, we covered the piece Fen Shui. My mother composed it, and it is suitable for beginners.”

The candlelight flickered dimly, illuminating the two figures kneeling beside the table.

An hour passed. Qi Yan finished his lecture and took a cloth to wipe the zither strings. He remarked, “You haven’t touched the zither for five days, yet your skills have not dulled.”

Wei Zhen, pleased by the compliment, smiled faintly. “Though I couldn’t use my hands due to my injury these past few days, I kept reviewing the scores, trying to internalize what I had learned before.”

To her, learning the zither meant mastering it thoroughly.

Since she had been unable to use her hands, she had practiced by studying the instrument closely. Even though she felt unwell today, she pushed herself to complete the lesson.

In truth, she still felt discomfort while playing, but she had focused on the music to distract herself. Now that the lesson was over, the dizziness returned in full force.

Qi Yan placed the zither back on its stand. Seeing her pale and fragile expression, he asked, “Wei Zhen, have you always gotten seasick?”

Wei Zhen murmured softly, “Back in the south, I rarely left home and almost never traveled by boat. Even half a year ago, when I came to the capital, I took the land route. It was only after boarding this ship that I realized how overwhelming the sound of the water is—it’s difficult to adjust to.”

Qi Yan asked, “Are you afraid of water?”

Wei Zhen shook her head. “No, not water itself. Earlier, when the room was unlit and completely dark, I could hear the waves crashing outside. It felt as if I were drifting in the middle of a pitch-black river…”

She let out a faint cough and weakly slumped over the table.

She wasn’t afraid of water—she was afraid of the dark water. The night itself already filled her with uncertainty. She couldn’t see anything clearly, and now, being on a rocking boat, she felt as though she were endlessly tumbling in the waves.

Exhausted, Wei Zhen’s eyes gradually closed.

A cold hand touched her forehead. A voice asked, “Wei Zhen, are you running a fever?”

She didn’t respond. Qi Yan turned her slightly and pressed his palm to her forehead again. Beneath his cool hand, her skin was burning hot.

He stood up and walked to the door. In her half-conscious state, Wei Zhen vaguely heard him speaking, seemingly instructing a maid to prepare medicine for her cold.

He returned to her side and sat down. Wei Zhen slowly opened her eyes, seeing his figure cast over her, enveloping her in shadow.

For some reason, having him there made her feel particularly at ease.

Perhaps it was because, during these days of travel, he had been protecting her constantly. She had unknowingly come to rely on him.

She reached out and lightly tugged at his sleeve. “Qi Yan.”

Qi Yan asked, “What is it?”

“Stay for a while longer. Talk with me.”

Qi Yan replied, “I have some matters to attend to tonight. I need to go below deck to inspect the ship.”

The hand gripping his sleeve gradually slid down. Qi Yan lowered his eyes to look at her hand and sighed. “I’ll stay until the maid brings your medicine.”

Wei Zhen hummed in acknowledgment and said nothing more. The sound of the river, sometimes near and sometimes distant, echoed softly around them.

Her face was flushed due to the fever. Qi Yan gazed at her for a moment before walking to the dressing table, dipping her handkerchief into the golden basin. After soaking it in water, he returned and placed it gently over her forehead.

Droplets trickled from the cloth, dampening her temple and eyelashes.

The girl’s face rested lightly against the table. Her long, ink-dark hair cascaded over her waist, flowing onto the ground, pooling around her bare feet and the hem of his black robe.

Qi Yan averted his gaze. After a while, he changed the cloth on her forehead again.

As he leaned in once more, the girl’s eyes fluttered open.

Wei Zhen braced herself against the table, slowly sitting up. “Liang Chan went to prepare the medicine. Why hasn’t she returned yet?”

“Brewing medicine takes time,” Qi Yan said. “Just now, a maid brought some fresh fruits. They were rinsed in water. If you’re thirsty or can’t stomach food, you can have some.”

Wei Zhen wanted to reach out and take it, but she didn’t even have the strength to lift her arm.

Qi Yan then picked up a plum for her, peeled off the skin, and brought it to her lips.

The plum’s flesh was full and juicy. Wei Zhen lifted her gaze from the fruit and landed it on Qi Yan’s face before her soft, rosy lips lightly pressed against the fruit’s flesh.

The strands of black hair in front of her chest swayed slightly with her breath, and the collar of her peach-colored robe was slightly open, revealing her jade-like collarbone.

Her complexion, however, bore an unnatural flush of illness, and her lips were an unusual, vivid red, as if painted with rouge.

It was a kind of decadent beauty, a disheveled beauty, like the enchanting spirits in folk tales that could bewitch men’s hearts.

Her delicate lips lightly pressed against the orange fruit, her pearly teeth piercing its flesh, while her bright, clear eyes gazed at him.

In that instant, he felt his hand tremble.

The young woman’s lips continued to sip the juice, her vermilion lips parting slightly as she took the fruit into her mouth inch by inch.

As she took the entire piece, her lips brushed against his fingertips.

It lasted only a moment, yet that soft touch still sent a sensation through Qi Yan’s palm.

Wei Zhen swallowed the fruit, the cold juice slightly relieving the dryness in her throat.

She lifted her gaze to see Qi Yan picking up another plum. His slender fingers, like bamboo shoots, slowly peeled away the skin and once again brought the fruit to her lips.

Wei Zhen locked eyes with him and gently bit into the plum.

Her tongue wrapped around the fruit’s flesh, and this time, as she took the whole piece into her mouth, her tongue inadvertently grazed his fingertip.

A tingling sensation shot up her spine.

Realizing what she had done, Wei Zhen froze.

And then, a rough fingertip pressed against her lips, rubbing once, then again.

His calloused finger brushed over her crimson lips, making Wei Zhen shudder.

The dim candlelight cast flickering shadows over them, carrying a warmth.

Qi Yan lowered his gaze, his eyes landing on her lips.

“General,” she murmured, her red lips parting and closing against his palm.

Those luscious red lips, moist and glistening, seemed to beg for a firm press of his fingers, to be ruthlessly ravaged and crushed.

Qi Yan snapped back to his senses, realizing that for a fleeting moment, an inexplicable, malicious desire had surged within him.

Wei Zhen raised her delicate hands, grasping his wrist, slowly moving his hand away and pressing it onto the floor.

Her fingers were impossibly soft, as smooth as fresh milk—just like the sensation of her tongue.

They were so close that Wei Zhen was drowning in his breath, a shiver creeping up her spine.

If before, their physical interactions had been unintentional, devoid of any strong romantic intent, then what she had just done now was unmistakably a deliberate seduction.

Facing Qi Yan’s dark, brooding eyes, Wei Zhen suddenly felt a guilty conscience.

She hastily tried to shift the topic. “General, didn’t you say you had matters to attend to tonight? That you were going to the lower deck?”

Her awkward attempt at changing the subject only made her guilt more obvious.

Qi Yan suddenly leaned in, his breath mingling with hers in the confined space.

Wei Zhen’s back pressed against the table, which scraped against the floor with a muffled sound.

Her hands were pinned down by his, unable to move.

Qi Yan’s shadowed gaze bore into her, sending heat rising within her chest. She had never seen such an expression on his face before—like a hunter surveying its prey, gazing down at her from above.

But that look disappeared in the blink of an eye.

His expression softened as he looked at her and asked, “You’re seasick? You’re not used to traveling by water?”

Wei Zhen, still rattled, nodded. “A little.”

Qi Yan released her hand. “Then after a few more days, once we reach the border between Jin and Chu, we’ll disembark. My family’s military camp is at the frontier—I’ll return to bring an elite escort to accompany you on land so you won’t have to endure this any longer.”

Wei Zhen stared at the young general before her.

For a moment, it felt like what had just happened was nothing but an illusion.

Hearing him say that he would gather troops to escort her once they reached the border, she snapped back to reality.

Wei Zhen said, “I feel guilty troubling the general to go to such lengths just because of my seasickness.”

Qi Yan’s gaze lingered on her flushed lips before shifting to the flickering red candle beside them.

His voice was husky. “It’s nothing.”

Wei Zhen leaned in slightly. “Thank you, General.”

Qi Yan lowered his eyes, looking into her autumn-water-like gaze, and said slowly, “Wei Zhen, be careful around the other men on this ship. Don’t let them get too close to you.”

Wei Zhen blinked, surprised for a moment, then replied, “I know. A’Ling already warned me.”

She still didn’t understand what he truly meant.

He was no righteous gentleman—he was a man, and all men harbored base desires.

If she continued being so naive, she would only be taken advantage of.

What he wanted to tell her was this:

Wei Zhen, you should be wary of me as well.

I, too, have shameless, indecent thoughts about you—do you realize that?

Wei Ling: I deeply regret this. I have brought a wolf into the house.