Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 35 – Qi Lang

The night was as cool as water, the shadows of trees swayed, and the cry of a partridge echoed through the forest.

Qi Yan stepped out of the wooden house into the courtyard, drew up several buckets of water, and repeatedly doused his body with the cool liquid.

Droplets of water slid down along his white silk trousers, pooling into small puddles at his feet.

The young man bent his broad shoulders, his hands braced against the tree trunk by the well. The veins bulging on his strong arms pulsed faintly, and water droplets continued to trail down his arms, dripping onto the ground.

The damp strands of his hair clung to his temples as he gazed down at the moonlight on the ground, seemingly suppressing some emotion stirring within him.

Earlier, when he had just gotten off the bed, the girl behind him had followed. He was bare-chested, without a shirt, and she herself was clad in only a thin inner garment—almost recklessly throwing herself into his arms.

Soft fragrance filled his embrace, and a surge of fire ignited within Qi Yan, nearly impossible to suppress.

With a splash, another bucket of cold water poured over him, the chill seeping into his skin. After a long while, he finally managed to steady himself.

Hearing movement behind him, Qi Yan turned toward the sound. In the hazy moonlight, the girl stood by the doorway, draped in a thin robe, as if waiting for him to return.

Even though the heat inside him had not yet fully subsided, Qi Yan could only throw the wooden bucket back into the well and walk toward the doorway.

Hearing his footsteps, her gaze shifted toward him.

Qi Yan asked, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Wei Zhen tilted her head and replied, “I saw you leave the house and didn’t know where you were going or what you were doing, so I waited for you by the door.”

Inside the house, shrouded in darkness, Qi Yan had already seen everything on her body. Now, under the cascading silver moonlight, her outer robe became even more translucent.

Yet, she remained entirely unaware, stepping closer to him, her gentle gaze fixed upon him—utterly oblivious to how enticing she appeared.

Qi Yan avoided her gaze, looking instead at the doorframe, feeling the need to make things clear. “Wei Zhen, you should keep some distance from me. After all, you and I…”

Wei Zhen pressed her lips together, cutting him off before he could finish. “The young general is an upright and honorable man; you would not overstep boundaries. And tonight, the fact that we shared a bed was an unavoidable necessity. I will not dwell on it, and I trust the young general will not either.”

She spoke with calm composure, without hesitation, the words leaving her lips with ease.

In contrast, it was Qi Yan, a man, who seemed to be the one troubled by the matter.

Qi Yan replied, “Does Miss Wei truly find me trustworthy? People can be deceiving—one may know their face, but not their heart. Even His Highness the Crown Prince was once deemed a paragon of virtue, yet you saw with your own eyes what he did in private.”

Wei Zhen was taken aback. “What is the young general trying to say?”

Qi Yan intended to continue speaking, but looking into her serene and clear eyes, his words suddenly lodged in his throat.

Wei Zhen said, “That day in the stream, I was without a single thread of clothing, my most humiliating state laid bare before the young general. If you had any ill intentions, you would have acted then. Yet, you never once overstepped. That alone proves your integrity.”

Qi Yan sighed inwardly. Did she truly see him as a man of such restraint, incapable of acting on impulse?

Did she not realize in the slightest how alluring she was to a man?

The two stood in the moonlight, Wei Zhen lowering her lashes. She was not ignorant of worldly matters—when she learned that there was only one bed in the room tonight, her heart had wavered. Yet, she still chose to lie down beside him, for she trusted his character and did not feel repulsed by his presence.

She had quickly spoken up earlier, fearing that if he continued, things would only become more awkward. Better to brush past the matter lightly.

After all, sharing a bed tonight was a situation forced upon them both.

She smiled, attempting to smooth things over. “It’s late. Let’s rest and set out early tomorrow.”

Qi Yan replied, “Alright.”

Wei Zhen let out a quiet breath and walked back inside, feeling her way to the bed before lying down, waiting for Qi Yan to return. Yet, after a long while, she still did not hear his footsteps.

Qi Yan remained outside, simply watching her from a distance.

Having doused himself with well water, his white silk trousers were completely soaked, the damp fabric clinging to his thighs. He had to stand in the breeze for a while to let them dry before going back in.

He stood in the courtyard for a long time. Only when his trousers had mostly dried and his body’s heat had gradually subsided did he finally return indoors.

The girl lay on the outer side of the bed. He lay down beside her but soon noticed that she shifted slightly.

“You’re still awake?” Qi Yan asked.

The bed was extremely small. Wei Zhen turned toward him, her body pressing against his in an instant. Realizing the inappropriate proximity, she tried to scoot back, only to find that she had reached the very edge of the bed—half her body about to slip off.

Before she could fall, Qi Yan swiftly reached out, pulling her back.

Her soft curves crashed into his chest, sending a tremor through him.

The summer night was stiflingly warm. He had lain down without putting on a shirt, and now, in the dark, their bodies were so close that he could distinctly feel her shape and warmth.

His chest burned as if with fire, while her body was supple like water, seeming to cool his heat. Her hair was fine and delicate, her neck cool and smooth, making him want to reach out and touch it.

They lay there, unmoving.

Wei Zhen felt uneasy with the emptiness behind her, instinctively inching forward, pressing fully into his embrace. His warmth surrounded her entirely, trapping her in this confined space.

She wanted to pull away, but the edge of the bed offered no support. A single misstep, and she might find herself touching him in an even more awkward way.

Her hand rested on his arm, frozen in place, forcing herself to sleep.

In the stillness of the night, a faint rustling sound rose from beneath the bed.

At first, Wei Zhen tried to ignore it, but the sound persisted, unsettling her. “Qi Yan, is there a rat in the room?”

She moved closer. Feeling her press against him, Qi Yan replied, “It’s not a rat. A sparrow flew in earlier and just left.”

The girl let out a small sigh of relief and prepared to turn over.

But in such a narrow bed, how could she avoid brushing against him?

Her long legs grazed his knees, her chest brushed against his elbow. For a brief moment, his arm went numb, his entire body tensing.

Unaware, she continued shifting, turning her back to him and pressing against his chest.

Qi Yan’s hand, resting on her waist, slowly curled into a fist before relaxing again. His palm landed on her slender waist. “Don’t move.”

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling slightly. “Alright.”

But Qi Yan had already reached his limit. He gently squeezed her waist and whispered, “Still can’t sleep?”

She winced at the slight pain, her voice soft and delicate as she responded.

That sound made Qi Yan tighten his grip on her waist.

“Wei Zhen…” he suddenly called out.

His deep and hoarse voice carried a heavy sense of restraint.

The air was thick with a dangerous aura.

The young lord’s slender hand rested on her shoulder—his fingers warm and strong, well-defined. They trailed up from the hollow of her neck, brushing past the curve of her ear, before finally threading into her thick hair.

A tingling, numbing sensation spread from the ends of her hair.

Wei Zhen was trapped in the crook of his arm. At this moment, she felt her heart tremble, as if she were prey caught in the hunter’s embrace.

His fingertips gently combed through her hair, as if savoring the cool and delicate strands, or perhaps using the sensation to ease something within himself.

Wei Zhen’s eyelashes quivered shut, and her blood seemed to flow in reverse.

His warm breath escaped from his thin lips, spilling onto the nape of her neck.

Qi Yan leaned into the curve of her neck, his other hand grasping the fabric at her waist, his palm feeling the smoothness of the silk, slowly absorbing the coolness of her body.

The myriad of unfamiliar sensations made his entire body tense.

Only when his long fingers finally slipped out of her hair did Wei Zhen part her lips, her voice barely audible: “It’s late, Young General.”

Qi Yan said, “Sleep.”

The young woman curled up slightly, not daring to move again.

Qi Yan gazed at her for a long time, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, slowly gliding downward over her shoulders and back, before finally settling on her willow-thin waist.

Having spent so much time at the border, in a military camp filled with all kinds of men, how could he not understand the affairs between men and women?

Her waist was so supple—just now, when he leaned into her, if he had only pressed down on her waist, he could have done something with her.

Yet that would be far too crude and vulgar.

The night breeze was cool and gentle. Bathed in moonlight, the young and handsome lord forced himself to suppress the heat rising in his body. His long lashes trembled, his fingertips dug into the wooden bed frame, and finally, he turned over, showing her his back.

The wilderness was vast and tranquil, the moonlight like silver silk. All things in the world fell into silence.

Qi Yan drifted into a dream.

In his dream, mist and water intertwined, forming a veil of damp haze.

In the depths of Mount Wu, endless rain poured down. A figure of a goddess stood behind the rain curtain, her presence faintly visible. Sensing movement, she turned around, her jet-black hair cascading like fine silk, framing a face of breathtaking beauty.

It was a face Qi Yan knew all too well.

In this mystical realm, the goddess was clad in clouds, draped in mist. She covered her front with her delicate hands, her snow-white legs partially veiled by the shifting vapor, which threatened to dissipate with the slightest breeze.

“Young General Qi?” she called softly.

Her slender feet stepped through the water, each movement light and graceful, drawing closer to him step by step.

She pressed him against the smooth rocks of the mountain stream, her lips curving into a radiant smile, her bright eyes gazing at him. Her moist red lips traced down from his chin, inch by inch.

“Is the Young General truly so restrained?” Wei Zhen’s delicate hands rested against his waist, her soft fingers caressing his cheek, her eyes brimming with regret. “What a pity—though the goddess has affection, Xiang the King remains indifferent.”

Her snow-white ankle brushed against his knee, again and again. That bewitching, seductive demeanor—no man in the world could resist.

The rain poured harder, and the mist surrounding her gradually dispersed.

She wrapped her jade-like arms around his neck, pressing herself deep into his embrace, clutching his robe, and whispered in his ear, “Qi Lang.”

 

“Qi Lang” (祁郎) is a term of endearment, where “郎” (Lang) is often used in ancient Chinese literature to refer to a beloved man, similar to calling someone “my dear” or “my love” in English. So “祁郎” (Qi Lang) is Wei Zhen affectionately addressing Qi Yan.

 

“Qi Lang, Qi Lang.”

Each syllable seemed to spill from the depths of her throat, like a plea for his favor, an earnest request for his indulgence.

A glimmer shone in the goddess’s eyes. She cupped his face and pressed her red lips against his. “I told you long ago, even you, Qi Lang, cannot escape worldly desires.”

The chirping of wild birds echoed through the mountains.

Qi Yan jolted awake from his dream, propping his forehead with one hand as he sat up.

Golden sunlight streamed in through the window, piercing through his ethereal dreamscape, dragging him from the haze back to reality.

The dream had been too vivid—so much so that even now, outside of it, the lingering heat still stirred within him.

He cradled his throbbing forehead, his gaze falling upon the girl sleeping beside him.

The goddess’s face in his dream overlapped perfectly with the one before him. Her slender, snow-white leg was draped over his knee.

Qi Yan’s heart trembled. Realizing what was happening, he reached out and gently grasped her ankle, moving her leg aside. Then, pushing himself up from the bed, he stepped out into the courtyard.

By the time he returned, he saw Wei Zhen sitting up, just waking.

Qi Yan had just doused himself with water, his entire body soaked. Seeing her gaze sweep over him, he swiftly grabbed a robe from the nearby table to cover the damp fabric clinging to his lower body.

But he was a moment too late.

Her eyes flickered downward, only to snap back up in alarm, her cheeks turning the shade of a dove’s blood.

“Young—Young General.” Wei Zhen’s voice trembled, unsteady.

Qi Yan’s ears were also flushed red. His body was stiff as he grabbed all his clothes from the table and said, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

The sound of his footsteps echoed, and only when his figure disappeared at the doorway did Wei Zhen dare to lift her head.

Her cheeks were burning red, and her mind was in turmoil. The scene from just now replayed in her mind—some things had been too obvious for her to ignore, no matter how much she tried.

A tingling, numbing sensation ran up her spine.

The young lady was both shy and embarrassed, nervous and flustered. Could she really be blamed for this?

She took a moment to calm herself. Once her emotions settled slightly, she looked around before stepping down from the bed.

This room was so small. So last night, she had been lying on such a narrow couch with him?

Thinking of their intimate proximity the night before, she glanced down at her clothing, biting her lip lightly.

Her inner garment was a pale blue, embroidered with lotus flowers and leaves, delicate and elegant. When she raised her hand, the fabric shifted, revealing hints of what lay beneath.

Wei Zhen didn’t dare dwell on the events of last night. They had been so close, and he had held her—how much of her had he seen?

After changing her clothes, Wei Zhen stepped out into the courtyard.

The moment she left the room, she saw a familiar figure standing outside.

The young lord was dressed in a dark blue robe, bathed in sunlight. He looked completely different from when he had shed his garments earlier.

Xing Yeju saw her first and let out a call. The young man, who had been adjusting the saddle, turned his head at the sound.

Wei Zhen walked over to Xing Yeju, reaching out to smooth its fur, using the action to conceal her inner turmoil.

However, when their eyes met, an unspoken awkwardness grew between them.

“You’ve washed your face?” he asked.

Wei Zhen nodded. “With water from the well.”

He swung himself onto the horse. “We should set off early. Xia City is still more than ten li away.”

He extended his hand toward her. Wei Zhen looked at his outstretched palm, then lifted her gaze toward the saddle.

The saddle was just right for Qi Yan alone, but with her added, the space would become cramped.

Previously, riding together hadn’t meant anything, but after what happened that morning, how could she pretend nothing had changed?

“You’re not getting on?” Qi Yan asked.

In the next moment, he lifted his long arm, wrapping it around her as if forming a step with his hand. With a light pull, Wei Zhen was hoisted onto the horse, her back pressing against his chest.

The saddle was narrow, forcing the two of them to be tightly pressed together—upper bodies, lower bodies, everything.

The wind rushed past, rustling the tree branches, while sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting flickering light spots through the forest.

The horse galloped swiftly, but Wei Zhen couldn’t find a comfortable position. It felt as if she wasn’t sitting on a saddle but on a scorching mat of needles.

She wanted to move away from him, but there was nowhere to escape.

With every bump of the horse’s hooves, they were pressed even closer together, a constant reminder of the morning’s events.

Wei Zhen shifted again. Qi Yan noticed the slight movement of her hips as she kept trying to inch forward on the saddle.

At first, he ignored it. But when she still wouldn’t settle down…

She didn’t realize that no matter how far she tried to move, she would always be jolted back, only making their collisions more intense.

When she shifted once more, he lowered his head, his breath warm and damp against her ear as he murmured, “Stop moving.”

The heated breath brushed against the skin of her neck, making Wei Zhen’s shoulders go weak.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened that morning, yet the tension between them was undeniable. That silence made it all the more unbearable.

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her, securing her in place so she could no longer fidget.

The rest of the journey passed without conversation, filled only with the sound of the wind and the rhythmic clatter of hooves.

Princess Ji Qin’s fiefdom, Xia City, lay just over ten li away.

Xia City was located at the border between Jin and Chu, downstream from the Luo River. In recent years, the peace between the two nations, coupled with the capable governance of the Qi family, had allowed Xia City to flourish. The citizens lived in harmony, the streets bustled with commerce, and it had grown into the largest city in the southern region of Jin.

At the city gates, a long queue stretched out—commoners waiting to enter the city.

Soldiers at the gate were inspecting travel permits when a voice rang out from the city walls, “Open the gates!”

One soldier scowled. “Open the gates? At this hour? Who would be arriving—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sharp sound of galloping hooves filled the air. He looked up and froze completely.

A magnificent white horse appeared at the end of the road, its coat gleaming like polished jade as it sped forward like a shooting star.

Atop the horse rode a young man, draped in a splendid robe, his belt fastened tightly. His posture was elegant and imposing, as dazzling as jade. As he approached, the sunlight fully illuminated his strikingly handsome features.

Who else could it be but their young master of the Qi family?

“It’s the Young Master! The Young Master has returned!”

The soldiers at the gate rushed forward in unison. But as the horse drew closer, they realized something else—Qi Yan was not alone.

A woman sat in his embrace.

As the young lady turned her face to the side, her delicate brows curved like spring mountains, her face radiant like an autumn moon. She shone as brightly as blooming flowers and glistening pearls. Her long skirt billowed in the wind, making her look even more breathtakingly beautiful.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Then, an uproar.

Xing Yeju galloped all the way to the entrance of the princess’s residence before finally stopping.

Wei Zhen lurched forward, nearly losing her balance. Qi Yan quickly reached out to steady her.

Just then, a group of servants emerged from the residence.

“The Young Master has returned?” The steward strode forward, bowing deeply in greeting.

When he straightened and shifted his gaze from Qi Yan to Wei Zhen, he froze in astonishment.

Surprised, the steward asked, “The Young Master spent the past year recuperating in the capital of Chu and never returned to the borderlands. Who is this young lady? Could it be… that the Young Master took a wife in the capital?”

Wei Zhen shook her head, about to explain.

But within the Qi residence, who had ever seen their Young Master this close to a woman before? Never.

Before she could say anything, the steward and all the servants present immediately bowed and greeted her in unison—

“Greetings, Young Mistress.”