Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 7: Close

“Plop.” Another drop of water fell from his raven-black hair.

Wei Zhen woke up from her dream, her delicate lips breathing lightly. The cold, damp droplets from the cave ceiling landed on her face, instantly clearing her consciousness.

The dream had been too ambiguous. Even though she had now detached herself from it, her heart was still pounding violently.

Since arriving in the capital to prepare for marriage, the matron had taught her some things about the chamber affairs between husband and wife. In the dream, she and he had not engaged in such acts, yet the ambiguous intimacy alone was enough to make her heart tremble.

What unsettled her even more was that the surroundings in the dream resembled her temporary residence in the detached palace.

Her wedding with the Crown Prince was only a month away. Why had Qi Yan appeared in her bedchamber? And why had she not resisted him at all, not even pushing him away in the slightest?

What exactly had happened in the dream?

The night air of spring was still bone-chilling, seeping into the skin in fine, lingering tendrils.

Wei Zhen shifted slightly, and the robe draped over her shoulders slid off. She looked down in a daze—there was a man’s thin outer robe on her body.

It was Qi Yan’s.

She looked across at the young man. His complexion was pale, his body half-leaning against the cave wall, his eyes gently closed—he had already fallen asleep.

Wei Zhen slowly propped herself up against the wall, then knelt in front of him, intending to return his robe.

The damp mist of the cave wavered in the dim firelight, casting a soft glow on his face. That face was as strikingly handsome as the one in her dream.

As if possessed, she lowered her gaze and looked toward his neck.

Just moments ago in her dream, the young man had pressed down upon her. When she lifted her eyes, she had seen the tiny black mole on his Adam’s apple.

On his fair, jade-like skin, the curve of his Adam’s apple stood out, and that tiny mole rested there. In the dim, ambiguous candlelight, it seemed like a bewitching charm.

Her slender fingers unconsciously reached toward his face, wanting to confirm something. But just as her hand was about to touch him, it hesitated in mid-air.

The etiquette and teachings she had received since childhood made it impossible for her to act so boldly.

Moreover… if there truly was a mole on his neck, then what should she do?

Wei Zhen’s fingers curled tensely. Just as she was about to rise and leave, her long hair, cascading to the ground, brushed lightly against the back of his hand.

The next moment, the young man was startled awake, his eyes slowly opening.

Their gazes met, their breaths only inches apart. Wei Zhen’s eyes were suddenly caught in his deep gaze.

His eyes burned with intensity. “What’s wrong?”

Wei Zhen handed him the robe in her arms. “I came to return this to you. The night is cold and damp—you shouldn’t catch a chill, Young General.”

Qi Yan reached out and took it. As he moved slightly, his collar shifted, revealing the elegant line of his neck.

Wei Zhen glanced at that spot, and her gaze froze in an instant.

A wave of indescribable tingling sensation spread through her heart.

If she had still harbored doubts about the fortune teller’s words—”those with regrets from a past life will appear in your dreams”—then upon seeing that mole, she could no longer find an excuse to deny her recurring nightmares.

The flickering fire outlined the sharp contours of the young man’s Adam’s apple. Under her prolonged gaze, it moved subtly up and down.

Wei Zhen’s heartbeat grew erratic. She lifted her head, only to find herself ensnared by his deep, scrutinizing gaze from above.

“What are you looking at?” His voice was lower than before, husky and intense. His dark eyes gleamed with a peculiar light in the dimness as he silently studied her.

No words were exchanged—only the sound of their unsteady breathing remained.

Wei Zhen felt embarrassed. She pressed her lips together and withdrew her gaze, turning her face slightly away from him. Her expression remained serene, and if not for the faint blush creeping up her snow-white earlobes, no one would have been able to tell how flustered she was inside.

In the quiet cave, even the thumping of their hearts could be heard.

Wei Zhen was in turmoil—half because of her tangled thoughts about reincarnation, half because she had been caught peeking at him.

“Young General, have you investigated the matter I asked you to look into the other day?” She stiffly changed the subject.

“I have.” Qi Yan picked up a stick and prodded the fire, making its dim flames flare up again.

Wei Zhen raised her head. “Who was behind it?”

The guards stationed outside the warm hall that night would not have been dismissed for no reason—someone must have orchestrated it.

After a long silence, two cold words fell: “Wei Zhang.”

“Him?” Wei Zhen clenched her hands. “Although he and I have been at odds because of past grudges between our elders, we have always kept to our own paths. Why would he go to such lengths to put me in danger?”

She refused to believe that Wei Zhang did not understand the consequences of luring both her and Jing Ke to the same place and drugging them.

Even though she already knew the disgusting nature of her elder brother, his actions always found a way to make her despise him even more.

Wei Zhen bit her lip hard, the metallic taste of blood spreading in her mouth.

“There’s something else I shouldn’t keep from you,” Qi Yan said after a pause.

“Please speak freely, Young General. You don’t need to hold back.”

She saw the solemn expression on Qi Yan’s face, as if what he was about to say would be difficult for her to accept.

“The palace banquet was overseen by the Crown Prince. Given his character, he wouldn’t do something so underhanded. Wei Zhang, as the commander of his personal guards, was indeed responsible for removing the guards outside the warm hall that night. And ever since the incident, Wei Zhang has continued to enter and leave the Crown Prince’s quarters as usual, meeting with him frequently. It seems the Crown Prince was aware of everything.”

Wei Zhen was stunned. “But in all these days, the Crown Prince has never mentioned a word of this to me.”

She stood frozen in place.

Such an incident had occurred, and as her fiancé, Jing Heng should have informed her of Wei Zhang’s actions.

Yet he chose to cover for him—not only did he refrain from punishing Wei Zhang, but he also kept him by his side as a bodyguard.

Was it possible that he himself was involved in this scheme?

Regardless of the truth, his response was far too indifferent, as if he had tacitly approved of such a despicable plan.

If she had not gone to see Qi Yan that night, she might have never known the truth. She would have married a man whose gentle demeanor concealed a heart so vile.

Wei Zhen lowered her gaze, the corners of her eyes tinged red from humiliation. The flickering firelight burned, illuminating her elegant and beautiful face.

Qi Yan knew her temperament—she was not someone who would simply endure in silence. She must already have her own decision in mind.

So he didn’t press her further.

Morning had arrived. The rain outside had eased slightly. He rose to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Wei Zhen stood up as well, having already composed herself in that brief moment. Her face was once again calm and gentle, with no trace of her previous distress.

The cave was halfway up a steep slope. The path downward was treacherous, making it impossible to ride a horse. They could only rely on their feet.

Once they entered the forest, the faint morning light was quickly swallowed by the dense trees, leaving the surroundings as dark as night.

Wei Zhen tread carefully, her thoughts still caught up in the events of that night. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up from her foot.

Qi Yan turned back and saw her left ankle trapped in a crevice, unable to break free. Blood mixed with rain dripped from the hem of her dress—she was clearly injured.

Qi Yan helped her out of the mud and supported her to a nearby rock to sit down.

He knelt down to examine her injury, his fingertips brushing against her ankle. She shuddered slightly at the touch.

“You’ve twisted your ankle. I’ll set the bone back in place.”

Qi Yan explained just as the young woman lowered her head. Her dark, silky hair cascaded down, a few strands falling onto his face, entangling him like seaweed.

Wei Zhen nodded.

As soon as she agreed, a burning pain spread from her ankle up her calf. Wei Zhen’s shoulders trembled, and her body leaned forward. Her hands grasped onto the first thing they could find—only when she realized what it was did she become aware that it was his shoulder.

Her shoes and socks were soaked, and the world before her was pitch-black. In the boundless darkness, she had no choice but to rely entirely on him.

His high, straight nose was close yet distant, and his breath brushed against her, sending an inexplicable tingling sensation through her body.

Yet, at this moment, she couldn’t see his expression clearly. The darkness amplified all her other senses. The hand that touched her ankle brushed against her skin, and the sharp pain that followed was accompanied by a tingling numbness, making her body go weak.

“Does it feel better?” He tore off a piece of his robe and used the fabric to wrap her wound in a simple bandage.

Wei Zhen’s heart pounded wildly, her thick eyelashes trembling continuously. She didn’t want to trouble him further. “Much better.”

Qi Yan helped her stand up slowly. “Let’s go.”

Wei Zhen’s horse had been taken by the tiger earlier, leaving only one horse. The problem now was how the two of them would leave the forest together.

“You go up first,” Qi Yan said.

Wei Zhen looked up, her face catching the falling raindrops. “What about you?”

“I’ll walk ahead. Perhaps after a while, we’ll encounter the soldiers searching for us.”

After all, riding together was too intimate—especially given their current circumstances.

Wei Zhen understood that he was being considerate of her.

But the rain was getting heavier. After riding for some time, she hesitated for a moment before speaking. “General, the rain is growing stronger. You should get on.”

She continued, “There’s no need to worry about offending me. If you get drenched and fall ill upon returning, that would be far worse. If you’re concerned about others seeing, you can dismount before we exit the forest.”

She leaned down from the horse, her graceful figure resembling a startled swan, her long hair loosened and swept by the wind, curling around his cheeks.

The wind howled around them, and her voice was soft yet clear.

He avoided her warm breath, and this time, he finally said, “Alright.”

He mounted the horse, and they rode forward.

With the horse’s galloping motion, their bodies inevitably pressed together.

Wei Zhen tried her best to ignore the discomfort, but each time a drop of water slid down, sending a shiver across her skin, she became more acutely aware of his form against hers.

It was also at this moment that she gained a clearer understanding of what it meant for him to be a young general.

The young man’s body was tall and well-proportioned—broad shoulders, a narrow waist—not as bulky as some military men but lean and athletic.

With her vision still dim, she reached out to steady herself, her hand resting on his forearm. She could feel his body stiffen like stone beneath her touch.

The atmosphere grew awkward and tense.

She didn’t know how long they had been riding when they finally emerged from the dense ancient forest. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, and Wei Zhen’s vision gradually brightened. She glanced around and recognized that they were close to the edge of the grasslands, nearing the forest’s exit.

She turned her face slightly, intending to express her gratitude to the general. But as she met his downward gaze, his shallow breath brushed against her cheek.

“Thank you, General, for yesterday’s help…” She held her breath lightly, carefully choosing her words. But just then, an untimely sound interrupted her thoughts.

The sound of hooves crunching on fallen leaves—

Wei Zhen turned her head, catching a glimpse of a figure in the corner of her eye.

Dressed in brocade robes and a jade crown, with a refined and gentle face—who else could it be if not the Crown Prince, Jing Heng?

He sat atop his horse, followed by several guards. His gaze pierced through the rain and landed on her. First, there was surprise, then his eyes shifted to where her hand rested—half-placed on Qi Yan’s arm. His expression gradually turned complex.

“A-Zhen…” he called softly.

Wei Zhen’s eyes instantly turned cold.