Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 51: Clamor

Wei Zhen was waiting to meet him while also contemplating how to repay Qi Yan with another favor.

Not long after returning to Qingxue Hall in the evening, Zuo Ying arrived from outside carrying a medicine box, as usual, to examine her eyes.

After he finished administering the acupuncture, Wei Zhen suddenly recalled something she had heard from Qi Yan before—Zuo Ying had spent several years at the border, laboring in the iron-forging room daily, repeatedly hammering swords.

“Master Zuo, please wait a moment,” Wei Zhen called out.

Zuo Ying turned and asked, “What does the Princess wish to instruct me?”

Wei Zhen said, “I heard that when Master Zuo was at the border, you often forged swords for the soldiers there. It is said that every sword crafted by your hands could slice through iron like mud, exceptionally sharp. I have a request—would you be willing to forge a treasured sword for me?”

Zuo Ying was puzzled. “Does the Princess need a sword?”

“It is not for me but for Young General Qi,” she clarified.

Zuo Ying pondered for a moment. “The Young General has not recently mentioned to me that he requires a new sword.”

Wei Zhen took a step closer. “On the journey of my arranged marriage, the Young General escorted me and lost his sword to the waters of Luoshui Lake. I wish to gift him a new sword to repay this favor. I hope Master Zuo will not inform him about this.”

She added, “If you are currently too occupied with your medical studies to help me, that is also fine.”

Zuo Ying shook his head. “Since coming to the Jin Palace, aside from checking the Princess’s eyes daily, I have little else to do. Naturally, I can help. However, my forging skills may not surpass those of the seasoned swordsmiths. Perhaps it would be better if I visit the ironworks of the Jin Palace in the coming days to see if there are any experienced craftsmen. I can oversee the process, but—”

“The craftsmanship of the swordsmith is one aspect; another crucial factor is the forging materials. The finer the sword, the more effort it requires from the craftsman, and the rarer the materials needed.”

“Please wait a moment, Master Zuo.” After hearing this, Wei Zhen turned and walked into the inner hall.

She rummaged through her belongings for a while and returned moments later, holding a wooden box. Opening the lid revealed a collection of exquisite gemstones—beautiful jade, agate, and glass in a dazzling array. A string of pearls, unable to fit within the box, nearly slipped out, and Zuo Ying swiftly reached out to catch it.

“Master, please take a look—are these treasures sufficient to forge a sword? If not, let me know, and I will provide more. Just ensure that the best sword is crafted.”

Zuo Ying glanced at the overflowing box of jewels and guessed that these must be her personal collection.

Taking the box from her, he said, “Forging a sword takes at least ten days to half a month, or at most, a full month. Once it is complete, I will deliver it to you.”

Wei Zhen smiled. “Very well.” She then saw Zuo Ying off.

Indeed, that box contained her most treasured possessions. She had no intention of using the jewels given to her by Jin, nor did she wish to use the dowry from Chu. She only wanted to use her most valuable treasures to gift Qi Yan a one-of-a-kind sword.

Once the sword was forged, she would engrave and inlay jade from Mount Jing on the hilt and adorn the blade with Danyang bronze, making it a stunningly beautiful weapon.

She wondered—how would Qi Yan feel upon receiving this sword?

A young warrior on a white horse, clad in golden armor, should be worthy of the finest sword in the world.

A smile graced Wei Zhen’s lips as she turned and returned to the main hall.

—

The next day, Wei Zhen followed her usual routine—attending morning lessons at the academy and playing the zither for the Jin King in the afternoon.

It was not until evening that she finally had some time for herself.

After a simple bath, Wei Zhen knelt before her desk, only to hear a commotion outside.

She signaled for Liang Chan to go take a look.

Moments later, a figure entered the hall. To Wei Zhen’s surprise, it was Gongsun Xian.

Gongsun Xian smiled and said, “The palace matrons have reassigned the study companions’ sleeping quarters, and I have been placed here with the Princess. That noise outside was from my attendants moving my belongings. I will be staying with the Princess from now on—would you mind?”

She blushed slightly. “If the Princess finds it inconvenient, I can ask my father to speak with the matrons again.”

Wei Zhen shook her head. “Miss Gongsun has taken such good care of me—you are my first friend in Jin. Why would I mind?”

Gongsun Xian stepped forward and linked arms with her. “Then I shall stay in the side courtyard. We will have plenty of time together from now on.”

Wei Zhen said, “Alright.”

After chatting briefly, Gongsun Xian left to settle in her room.

Once the hall was quiet again, Wei Zhen gazed into the bronze mirror, sighed, and cupped her face in her hands, wondering how she should style her hair for tonight’s meeting with Qi Yan.

She went to her wardrobe and, after much deliberation, chose a pale yellow dress—elegant yet understated, giving off a gentle aura. With a sash tied around her waist, it would accentuate her slender figure.

More importantly, her beloved would be arriving at night. Under the dim moonlight filtering through the windows, the soft candle glow would envelop her, making her appear ethereal and delicate in the flowing dress.

After changing, she carefully painted her brows, repeatedly checking her reflection in the mirror—yet something still felt off.

Perhaps she seemed too eager.

In the past, she had never dressed up so meticulously just to meet him.

After hesitating for a long while, Wei Zhen decided to keep things simple.

She loosened her carefully pinned hair, letting it fall naturally down her back to create a relaxed and effortless look. She dabbed a bit of fragrance onto her hair—not too strong, just enough for him to catch a faint scent when he leaned close.

A light dusting of powder on the outer corners of her eyes and a delicate stroke along her lashes elongated their shape, making her gaze appear more captivating.

This was a young lady’s subtle trick—not overly adorned, just a light touch to enhance her features. A man unfamiliar with cosmetics would never notice what had been altered, even if he were close to her face.

After finishing her preparations, Wei Zhen tidied up her dressing table, retrieved her zither, and waited for Qi Yan’s arrival.

A lone candle flickered, its flame swaying as time passed.

Lost in her sheet music, Wei Zhen gradually became aware of the soft patter of rain against the window.

The drizzle soon turned into a heavy downpour.

She walked to the window and pushed it open slightly, watching as thunderclouds rolled across the sky. A streak of blue lightning flashed, followed by a deep rumbling that seemed to shake the rafters.

Wei Zhen’s brows furrowed slightly.

Just then, a knock came from outside.

Hurrying to the door, she opened it—only to find not Qi Yan, but Gongsun Xian.

Gongsun Xian, drenched from the rain, hugged a pillow in her arms. Her face was pale, wet with rain, and she looked as though she had run here in a fright.

“What happened?” Wei Zhen asked.

“The thunder scares me,” Gongsun Xian murmured. “I can’t sleep alone. May I stay with you tonight?”

Wei Zhen hesitated, gripping the doorframe. Another crack of thunder boomed, making the girl before her tremble. She clutched Wei Zhen’s wrist tightly, her eyes tinged red with fright.

“Princess, may I?”

Wei Zhen stepped back and opened the door, saying, “Come in.”

Gongsun Xian smiled. “The princess is so kind.”

She stepped over the threshold, and Wei Zhen went to the cabinet to fetch a clean set of her own sleepwear for Gongsun Xian to change into, then let her get into bed first.

“It’s already time to sleep. Won’t the princess rest as well?” Gongsun Xian tugged at Wei Zhen’s wrist and patted the pillow beside her. “Let’s sleep together.”

Wei Zhen softly replied, “In a little while. I’ll look at the music score for a bit longer before sleeping.”

Qi Yan was supposed to come tonight. If they both went to sleep and he climbed through the window, startling Gongsun Xian, what would she do then?

Wei Zhen pulled down the bed curtains for her, then went to sit at the zither table. However, she saw Gongsun Xian reach out and lift the bed curtains back up.

“The bed is too dark. I can only fall asleep if I can see the princess.” Gongsun Xian’s voice was soft, echoing gently in the quiet grand hall.

Wei Zhen smiled. “Go to sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

The clepsydra dripped steadily, and the rain lashed against the windows. Wei Zhen waited until Gongsun Xian’s breathing gradually steadied, then let out a long sigh. Resting her chin on her hand, she turned her gaze toward the window.

It was already nearing the second watch of the night. She had been waiting for Qi Yan for so long—why had he not come yet?

Had something delayed him, or had he forgotten about their meeting tonight?

The flickering candlelight rippled like water, casting a glow over the girl’s delicate, sorrow-tinged brows.

Wei Zhen leaned forward, resting her upper body on the table, thinking that she would wait two more quarter-hours. If he still did not come, then she would truly stop waiting for him.

The mist was thick and damp, the lanterns swayed, and their halos of light spread outward in layers.

Meanwhile, outside the Jin King’s palace hall, Qi Yan stood under the eaves, awaiting the king’s orders.

At dusk, two letters had arrived on the Jin King’s desk—one from the Crown Prince of Chu, Jing Heng, and the other from the Seventh Prince of Chu. Both secret letters contained the same plea: they sought the Jin King’s assistance in eliminating the opposition.

With the Chu King’s passing, the court had fallen into complete chaos. Two factions had begun their struggle—one backing the newly enthroned yet weak ruler, and the other supporting the former crown prince, who watched like a hungry tiger.

The Jin King had ordered Qi Yan to wait outside while he summoned Prince Ji Wo and Prince Ji Yuan in for discussions.

The rain gradually intensified. Qi Yan was distracted, gazing toward the palace, which was shrouded in pitch-black storm clouds. Even the lamps had dimmed.

He wondered if she had already fallen asleep.

Just as Qi Yan was about to send a trusted aide to inform Wei Zhen, he heard the sound of a door opening beside him.

The eunuchs, who had been dozing off on either side, immediately sprang into action upon seeing Ji Yuan emerge. One stepped forward to drape a rain-blocking cloak over him, while another held up an oil-paper umbrella.

“The king summons you inside,” Ji Yuan said as he adjusted his cloak.

Qi Yan nodded slightly to him and stepped over the threshold.

A cool breeze lifted the gauze curtains, and behind layers of ornate screens, the Jin King reclined against a low table.

After Qi Yan entered, the Jin King spoke of what he wished to discuss with him. As Qi Yan had expected, it was naturally to ask his opinion on the two princes of Chu.

Qi Yan said, “I believe it is best to support the Seventh Prince of Chu. The Seventh Prince has spent years abroad as a hostage, his foundation is unstable, and he has few supporters in the court. His strength is far inferior to the Crown Prince. If Jin assists him, Chu will only descend into greater chaos.”

The Jin King looked at the young man before him. “Your thoughts are quite different from everyone else’s.”

When the Jin King asked Ji Wo, Ji Wo simply stated that he had no interest in politics, avoiding the topic as he always had. When the Jin King asked Ji Yuan, Ji Yuan said they should assist the Crown Prince of Chu, as it would be greatly beneficial to Jin. He believed they should seize this opportunity for gain. Clearly, anyone with sharp insight could see that the Crown Prince had a stable foundation and a greater chance of victory. If Jin chose the wrong side, it would surely suffer the consequences and become an enemy of Chu.

The Jin King continued to question Qi Yan, asking why he insisted on helping the Seventh Prince.

Qi Yan answered fluently, “Why did the King of Chu change his heir on his deathbed? Because the Crown Prince of Chu murdered his own brother and orchestrated the death of the Sixth Prince—this is his first crime. Though the Seventh Prince has a weak foundation, in terms of propriety and law, inheriting the throne is completely justified. The Crown Prince raising troops to seize power is, in truth, an act of treason—this is his second crime. Thus, the world can rightfully accuse him of being unfilial, unrighteous, and disloyal. If Jin intervenes in Chu’s internal affairs, it would be upholding the rightful order. This is a matter of moral principle.”

“As for the risk of backing the wrong side, if Your Majesty has concerns, you may wait for the situation to become even more chaotic before deciding. But Your Majesty also knows that the later you offer assistance to the Seventh Prince, the less he will remember Jin’s favor in the future.”

“In fact, Your Majesty already has a decision in mind, don’t you?”

The Jin King had long made up his mind. Summoning them here was merely to gauge his grandsons’ insights and see who aligned with his own thoughts.

Noticing Qi Yan glancing toward the window from time to time, the Jin King asked, “You seem preoccupied today. Why are you so distracted?”

Qi Yan gathered his thoughts and replied, “Nothing. Does Your Majesty have any further orders for me?”

The Jin King leaned back and said, “I happen to have an available position under my command—Vice Commander of the Central Army of Jin. Will you take it or not?”

For an outsider like Qi Yan, the position of Vice Commander of the Central Army was already an extremely high starting point.

How could Qi Yan not understand? This was the Jin King officially accepting him into Jin’s ranks. He immediately knelt and saluted. “I thank Your Majesty.”

The Jin King sneered. “It’s just the position of Vice Commander. Above you, there is still the Commander and several great generals. Is that enough to make you this happy? Draft a secret letter for me. Think carefully about how we should reply to the Seventh Prince of Chu.”

Qi Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. The night had already grown late, and Wei Zhen was still waiting for him.

But the Jin King had already handed him the cinnabar brush, so Qi Yan could only take it and say, “Yes.”

Raindrops fell, mist rising from the pond in the royal courtyard, rippling outward in endless circles.

In the Clear Snow Hall, Wei Zhen woke up lying on the table, listening to the sound of rain pattering against the plantain leaves outside. She glanced at the gauze-draped window.

He still hadn’t come.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier. If he wasn’t coming, it was for the best—arriving in this downpour would only leave him soaked and miserable.

She waited a little longer before finally deciding to remove her outer robe and head to bed.

Just then, there was a “tok tok” knock at the window.

“It’s me,” came a man’s voice from outside.

Wei Zhen turned her head abruptly.

Through the misty shadows of flowers, a tall figure was cast onto the window screen.

The next moment, with a “swish,” the wooden window was lifted. The trees outside swayed in deep and shallow hues as a young man leaned halfway into the room.

The wind and rain rushed in, causing the candle in Wei Zhen’s hand to flicker.

The two stared at each other for a moment before Wei Zhen hurried over.

As his feet touched the ground, he lifted his head. His face was unnaturally pale, his crow-black hair damp with mist. Droplets of water slid from his robes, falling one after another onto the floor tiles, soaking a small patch.

The moment he stepped inside, his stance faltered, and he nearly collapsed forward. Wei Zhen instinctively reached out to support him, only to feel the weight of his entire body pressing down on her.

The gust of wind he brought in blew out the candle with a whoosh, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Wei Zhen’s vision went black, as if she had fallen into an abyss. The luminous pearl bracelet she usually wore at night had been put away earlier. In the pounding silence of her heartbeat, the only thing she could rely on was him.

Yet he was completely soaked, his robes ice-cold, sending a chilling sensation through her skin. Wei Zhen instinctively wanted to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around her.

He bent down and murmured by her ear, “Too tired.”

Wei Zhen struggled slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I was on duty all day and discussing matters with the king until now. I originally planned to just come by for a moment, but I saw your lamp was still lit. Why haven’t you gone to sleep?”

Of course, she had been waiting for him. But embarrassed to admit it, she bit her lip and only said, “I was reading a zither score and couldn’t fall asleep.”

“A zither score?” He tightened his embrace slightly, his voice laced with amusement, as if he had caught onto something.

His body was cold, yet his breath was warm—two extremes that left Wei Zhen feeling as though she were being subjected to torment.

She tilted her face up, and droplets from the ends of his damp hair fell onto her cheeks, the cold sensation jolting against her skin. She couldn’t see his expression in the darkness, but her face was already growing warm.

She refused to admit it. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Mm.”

Qi Yan pressed a hand against her waist, pulling her closer. “Then shall we continue reading the zither score?”

Wei Zhen had waited for him so long—it certainly wasn’t to read a zither score. She said, “No.”

“Then what should we do?” the young man asked.

His breath hovered over her skin, and Wei Zhen was suddenly reminded of the day he kissed her—he had leaned in just as close then.

His hand traced slow circles on her lower back, making her spine feel weak. She clutched at his sleeve.

She had never been teased like this before. She wanted to grab his hand and make him stop, but doing so would only prove she had lost ground.

By her ear, he whispered, “If not reading the zither score, then what shall we do?”

Wei Zhen’s ears burned. Cornered, she murmured, “Anything is fine.”

“Anything?” Qi Yan echoed.

She already regretted her words, but it was too late to take them back.

He pressed her against the table, his tall frame closing in. Wei Zhen’s fingers gripped the table’s edge as she felt his breath approach her lips.

Sweat formed on her forehead. “I’m not ready yet.”

Qi Yan stopped.

In the silent standoff, their heartbeats surged against each other.

After a long pause, she finally whispered, “I’m ready now.”

Qi Yan gazed at her, the corner of his lips curving slightly. He had only wanted to hold her. What did she think he was going to do?

Still, he leaned close again, murmuring by her ear, “I’m ready too. You go ahead.”

He studied her—her dark hair, her jade-like skin, her soft red lips. In the darkness, she was a flower in full bloom.

Just as he was about to move away, she seemed to sense it and immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Her damp lips brushed against his throat.

Qi Yan’s body tensed.

A moment later, she heard him take a sharp breath.

Outside, the rain roared, louder than ever.

Gongsun Xian: Lying down, peaceful.