Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 83: A Heart Stirred

Chapter 83 A Heart Stirred

Tonight the moonlight is dazzling, fireflies flit about, as if the Milky Way has poured down from the heavens. The night breeze is soft and smooth, and the flowing light dances with the wind.

Qi Yan looked at her. “A-Zhen…”

Wei Zhen said softly, “I know you want to say that this is a desolate countryside, and that we shouldn’t hastily marry here, that there ought to be a grand and solemn wedding ceremony. But Qi Yan, why do lovers in this world get married?”

The answer was exceedingly clear — it was because of love.

What Wei Zhen had in her heart was that simple: if two hearts were willing to draw close to each other, then no external matter should become an obstacle.

Simply because there is affection in the heart — that is enough.

Tonight’s scenery was very much like the night he had celebrated her birthday.

She knelt down and bowed to the earth. Qi Yan looked at her. On the road to Jin State, he had known she was a princess sent for marriage, known they could not be together, and still, he let his heart stir in a way it shouldn’t have. From that time, he had wanted to find a way to marry her.

Now, she was right in front of him, waiting for him to kneel with her.

He always remembered that his lady had once said she hoped her husband would make her feel safe.

Qi Yan also knelt down.

Hearing the movement beside her, Wei Zhen smiled slightly, raised her hands and joined them together, “Heaven above, sun and moon as witness—”

“Qi Yan and Wei Zhen are now joined as husband and wife, we hope the heavens will have mercy and grant us the promise of growing old together.”

Qi Yan repeated, “Qi Yan and Wei Zhen are now joined as husband and wife, we hope the heavens will have mercy and grant us the promise of growing old together, and that we shall remain loving and unwavering ever after.”

She continued, “We will not part from the green hills, but walk together.”

Qi Yan said, “We will not part from the green hills, but walk together.”

“May we be in harmony like qin and se, and grow old together.”

Qi Yan turned to look at her eyes, lit by the wild light, the corners of his lips lifted, and he spoke devoutly, “In harmony like qin and se, and grow old together.”

The marriage vows had been spoken. Qi Yan helped her to her feet, but Wei Zhen reached out her hand to him and asked, “Do you have a dagger?”

Qi Yan handed over the dagger from his waist. She took a lock of her black hair, cut it, and held it in her palm. Qi Yan immediately understood — the final rite of binding hair together was needed to complete the wedding.

Qi Yan leaned in, fingers drawing her lock of hair together with his, slowly winding them together, again and again, his movements gentle. Finally, he tied them with a thin red cord.

The dark strands were wound tightly, indistinguishable from each other, as if they were meant to be entwined from the beginning.

Qi Yan looked into her eyes. “My circumstances are poor, my future uncertain, and I am deeply ashamed that I cannot give you a better wedding…”

“You don’t have to always feel guilty,” Wei Zhen said softly.

Wei Zhen looked at him. Because in a past life, you stayed with me, consoled me when I was at my lowest, never leaving me — so in this life, I will stay with you through your hardest days.

Qi Yan reached out to steady her. Wei Zhen rose from the grass but suddenly pulled her hand from his.

Qi Yan froze where he stood. Wei Zhen walked quickly down the slope, her skirt fluttering in the wind, not caring that he was left behind.

Qi Yan hurried after her, grabbing her hand. “Are you still angry about what happened tonight?”

Wei Zhen avoided him. “We did get married today, but I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did. Though we were both secretly saving money, I was only weaving bamboo hats — but you were risking your life to earn money…”

Raindrops began to fall on the path, light at first, then turning into a heavy downpour. They could no longer finish their talk and had to rush back together.

By the time they returned to the house, both were drenched. Wei Zhen went to the window to shut it, and Qi Yan handed her a large towel, but she still refused to acknowledge him, turning her back like a sulking child.

Qi Yan lowered his gaze. “I swear there won’t be a next time. I won’t risk my life again or make you worry.”

Seeing that she still wouldn’t turn around, he approached from behind, step by step. “Wei Zhen, A-Zhen? Yangyang?”

Each call of “Yangyang” carried his moist and warm breath, all drifting into her ears.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, their soaked robes pressed together, water flowing down through the narrow space between them.

Wei Zhen struggled slightly and said softly, “Let go of me. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Then what will it take for you to talk to me?” Qi Yan held her in his arms, pressing her hand against his cheek. “Will you ignore me for a lifetime? But we must reconcile eventually — why be angry for this moment?”

He lowered his face, eyes tender. “What must I do for you to forgive me? Tell me.”

He held her close, as if unwilling to stop until she forgave him.

Qi Yan reached to open a nearby cabinet and took out several pouches. “It takes two hundred taels to redeem your jade pendant. I feared something might happen during that time, so I kept saving. There’s already one hundred taels here — take it first. That underground market brings money easily.”

Wei Zhen’s gaze fell on the pouches, and finally, with reddened eyes, she spoke. “A few days ago, when you bathed, you wouldn’t undress fully in front of me — you had to avoid me. You were afraid I’d see your wounds, weren’t you?”

She said, “Show me your injuries.”

Qi Yan hesitated for a moment. Wei Zhen gripped his sleeve tightly, refusing to back down, her gaze intense. Under her stare, Qi Yan finally reached for his belt and slowly removed his damp clothes, one piece at a time.

Those wounds, large and small across his shoulders, entered Wei Zhen’s view.

Wei Zhen had imagined what he might look like, but seeing it with her own eyes still made her heart tremble.

Qi Yan said, “Every time I came off the fighting ring, I had a physician check me. These are just surface wounds — nothing serious, no internal damage.”

Wei Zhen did not look away and stepped closer, placing her hand over the wounds.

She looked up. “Do you remember that on the road to the marriage alliance, you told me I didn’t need to hurt myself to do anything for you? And later I said the same thing to you.”

Qi Yan replied, “I remember. But saying it is one thing — when faced with the actual situation, everything else just slips away. You spent days weaving those bamboo hats, saving money to buy me protective gear — your hands were hurt, weren’t they?”

Wei Zhen’s fingers curled slightly, but she did not deny it. He asked, “So, are you still angry now?”

Wei Zhen replied with a thick nasal tone, “I’m still angry. Can’t you tell?”

Qi Yan leaned in, his brows slightly arched. “So your way of being angry is to stroke my wounds? Wei Zhen, clearly you’re just heartbroken for me.”

“I’m not.” She gritted her teeth and denied it, but her red-rimmed eyes betrayed her. At that moment, her shyness gave her a lively and lovely charm.

She turned her back to him, but Qi Yan stopped her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, seeking her earlobe. “A-Zhen, having you by my side is the greatest blessing of my life.”

Wei Zhen’s breath was filled with his cool, fresh scent, and her heart slowly sank into it.

He pulled her hand over his chest and asked, “Do you feel it? It’s beating for you.”

That vibrant and powerful heart thumped beneath her palm. His warm breath fell on her cheek, and on her heart.

Wei Zhen leaned forward slightly, her red lips parting. “But before you met me, your heart was already beating, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but it beat in an ordinary way. After falling for you, each beat feels like a sweet impact — it makes me want to get closer to you, to kiss you, to do many more intimate things, and never let you feel wronged…”

His words suddenly halted.

The moon hung in the sky, rain pattered on the plantain leaves in an uneven rhythm. His gem-like eyes were immersed in the hazy golden light, gazing at her tenderly.

The candlelight swayed gently in the night breeze, outlining his face with sword-like brows and slightly upturned eyes.

Wei Zhen heard a “thump” — it was the sound of her heart sinking, finally plunging into the tide of emotion.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table behind her. In that moment, the sweet, irresistible emotion he had described — she truly felt it.

He said, “So don’t be angry anymore.”

Wei Zhen’s expression softened. She had never really been angry — her stubbornness was just to remind him not to do such things again.

Qi Yan gently cupped her cheeks. “Are you cold? You just came in from the rain. You must still be chilled. Let’s bathe in warm water first.”

He released her slender waist from the table’s edge, but in the next moment, he froze as Wei Zhen took his hand and, under his gaze, placed it on her chest. “Now do you feel my heartbeat?”

Through the fabric, the warmth made Qi Yan’s fingertips burn. He looked at her. “I feel it — it’s beating fast.”

“How fast?” She leaned closer, guiding his hand a little higher. “Very fast? But it can beat even faster for you.”

Qi Yan’s gaze intensified. Her voice was tender, revealing her emotions.

She looked into his eyes — there was shyness, there was desire, but no hesitation.

Her slender arms wrapped around his narrow waist. “These intimate things you wanted to do with me — how intimate are they? Tell me.”

Qi Yan’s gaze turned scorching. She guided his hand down, placing it on her waistband.

“Qi Yan, tonight is our wedding night.” Her voice trembled.

And the meaning of those words was unmistakable.

Qi Yan’s Adam’s apple moved slightly.

“I’m very cold.” Her eyes were moist, like gems washed by water, gazing at him.

Qi Yan couldn’t bear to see her like that. He pulled her into his arms. She rose on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, “Since it’s our wedding night, there shouldn’t be any regrets, right?”

Her long hair draped across his arms. Qi Yan caressed her cheek, and as her lips drew near his, she said, “Qi Yan, I am already your wife.”

And after those words, he lowered his head and finally kissed her.

On the windowpane, the silhouettes of the young couple embracing were cast, followed by the soft rustling sound of clothes falling to the floor.

In the sky hung a bright full moon, with mist-like clouds slowly curling around it.

In the middle of the pond, raindrops stirred a misty haze. The moon chased after the fish, the fish darted playfully, their sleek bodies diving into the water and leaping up again, sending out rings of silvery ripples.

Wei Zhen’s black hair was scattered across the pillow, her cheeks dyed as if soaked in rouge. Her lips were slightly parted, and the earring by her ear gently tapped against her face.

She heard the fine patter of rain outside the window and felt herself drifting into a realm of cloud-shrouded mountains. Mist surrounded her, water kept falling, and she gradually lost herself with him in a secret realm.

As he bent down, her hands involuntarily clung to his strong shoulders, as if holding on to driftwood. His kiss fell, his Adam’s apple moved up and down, and his other hand threaded through her hair, stroking her silky strands—his movements growing more and more impatient.

Then the veins on his throat bulged, and Wei Zhen’s hand, resting on the edge of the bed, clenched suddenly.

That faint sound floated in the desolate moonlight. The rain roared outside. The fish in the pond hid their traces and swam to the depths beneath the lotus leaves.

The bright moon slowly sank, gradually descending, enveloped by the water, finally merging into it. In that moment, the light on the water and the moonlight became boundless.

The rain kept falling, from the depths of the night until dawn, and gradually, the rain began to ease.

That corner of the room was far too cramped; Qi Yan couldn’t fully move, so he carried her over to the table.

The window was half open. A breeze slipped in, and a brilliant flower branch stretched through the window gap, landing beside her temples. Her jet-black hair surrounded that hint of red—a boundless spring.

In the dim morning light, Wei Zhen lay weakly in his arms and opened her eyes. She was truly exhausted, yet her heart was still wrapped in intense affection and hadn’t calmed down—she was unwilling to fall asleep.

She gazed at the man beside her, her fingertips slowly tracing over his eyebrows, sliding past the bridge of his nose. Then her hand was wrapped in his.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and said softly, “Qi Yan, do you know what I was thinking during those five days with you in the desert?”

Qi Yan said, “Thinking whether we could escape the desert, seeing nothing but yellow sand ahead?”

Wei Zhen shook her head. Her long hair fell against his cheek as she smiled and said, “No. I saw eagles soaring in the sky and thought that the yellow sands must be what an eagle sees when it surveys the earth from above. But what lies beyond those endless sands?”

Qi Yan said, “Vast green plains.”

“Yes. I thought, you are that powerful eagle—soaring high, overlooking thousands of miles. The yellow sand cannot trap you. You will surely find your way out of the vast desert,” she gently caressed his face, “even if I’m not by your side.”

Qi Yan remained silent for a while, then said, “If I’m an eagle, then what are you?”

Wei Zhen shook her head, not having considered that question.

Qi Yan said, “Even eagles are but earthly creatures. What lies higher than an eagle is the sky. If I’m an eagle, then you are the blue sky—vast, open, and embracing me, always with me.”

His fingers met hers, each digit aligned, as if threads of emotion were being drawn from their fingertips.

Wei Zhen had never heard such praise. Her eyes shimmered in the light, and she nestled closer into his arms.

He kissed her on the forehead. Wei Zhen let him kiss her and asked, “When Zuo Ying arrives, have you decided on the plans ahead?”

Qi Yan said, “First, we’ll return to the Jin-Chu border. I’ll gather troops on my mother’s fiefdom, then unite with Ji Wo and also prompt the southern King of Chu to dispatch forces. The most crucial part is to ally westward with the King of Wei.”

Wei Zhen paused upon hearing “King of Wei,” recalling that in her previous life, Qi Yan had also gone to the Wei Kingdom to request reinforcements, eventually defeating Jin’s great army with their alliance.

“But I fear it won’t be so simple.”

She asked, “Why?”

Qi Yan said, “Wei and Chu are old enemies. When I served as a Chu general, I clashed with Wei several times. The King of Wei likely despises me. Moreover, Wei has long been friendly with the Jin royal family. The King of Wei may not be willing to oppose Jin on my behalf. This journey will be fraught with challenges.”

Wei Zhen’s fingers tightened on the pillow. She slowly spoke, “Qi Yan, previously the Wei chancellor helped me search for a jade pendant. He said I was a noble daughter of Wei. I haven’t yet told you—do you know who my father is?”

Qi Yan smiled, “You’ve found out who your birth father is? If so, when we go to Wei, we can visit him together.”

Wei Zhen said, “My father is the King of Wei.”

Qi Yan’s eyes trembled. The smile he had just shown upon learning of her father slowly faded. “So… you are the Princess of Wei?”

She knew he must be shocked to hear this. She herself had frozen when she read the letter from Ji Yuan that revealed her lineage.

He cupped her face in his hands, his voice tight, asking, “How many daughters does the King of Wei have?”

He didn’t question the truth of her words—he accepted it directly.

Of course, there was only one. Only the princess betrothed to Ji Yuan by finger-oath—the Princess Yang of Wei.

Qi Yan closed his eyes and was silent for a long moment before saying, “If the King of Wei truly is your father, you must return to him. But the marriage pact with Ji Yuan—by no means does it count anymore.”

He opened his eyes, now frosted with coldness. “Ji Yuan won’t live much longer.”

Wei Zhen placed her hand on his. “I’ve already married you—how could I marry him again? If you’re asking the King of Wei for troops, with both east and west united, we can crush Jin together. I can help you.”

Qi Yan was just about to respond when a burst of footsteps sounded outside, cutting off their conversation.

The courtyard gate was knocked on with a “dong dong” sound. It wasn’t just one person—there was a group.

Wei Zhen and Qi Yan exchanged a glance. The two quickly tidied up the bedding. Wei Zhen dressed herself, and in front of the bronze mirror, saw the marks across her neck. But with the people outside urging impatiently, she couldn’t afford to cover them—she simply dressed and tied her skirt before following Qi Yan out.

Outside, a wooden sandalwood voice rang out: “The two people the lord is looking for are in this courtyard. My lord, please.”

The title “my lord” made Wei Zhen instantly wary. The gate knocked again, followed by a cold, clear voice: “Your Highness, Princess, I am Zuo Ying.”

Qi Yan opened the door. Zuo Ying still held a horsewhip in hand. Upon seeing Qi Yan, he quickly bowed.

“Sir Zuo.” Qi Yan stepped forward to lift him up. After many days apart, both were overcome with emotion and embraced tightly.

Zuo Ying smiled in relief. “The Jin-Qi border is crawling with royal troops. To evade the Seventh Prince and reach this place was no easy task.”

Zuo Ying led over a horse, with half a suit of armor hung on it. He said, “I found this in the desert. It looked very valuable and familiar. Is this not the armor the King had made for Your Highness?”

Qi Yan stepped forward and slowly stroked the armor. Finding a lost possession filled him with joy. He looked up, eyes full of gratitude. “Yes, the King gave it to me. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Your Highness. It’s my duty to serve you.”

Zuo Ying looked toward Wei Zhen behind Qi Yan, bowed first, then respectfully said, “I didn’t expect Her Highness to be with Your Highness. Before I infiltrated the desert, the Seventh Prince’s forces were searching for the princess at the border.”

He hesitated for a moment and addressed her, “Princess of Wei.”

Wei Zhen was stunned to hear the title. How did Zuo Ying know her lineage? The only possibility was that Ji Yuan had already revealed her identity to the world.

From this moment on, she was no longer a Chu princess sent in marriage—but a princess of Wei.

During the half month they had spent in Qiu You, the outside world must have changed dramatically.

Especially when she heard Zuo Ying refer to himself as “subject” and Qi Yan as “Your Highness.”

Zuo Ying pulled out a bamboo scroll from his robe. “I’ve come by the late King of Jin’s command to see Your Highness. This is the King’s final edict.”

Behind him, a group of people simultaneously knelt.

Qi Yan’s gaze slowly fell on the bamboo scroll. “The edict is related to me?”

Zuo Ying nodded. “Yes, Your Highness, please accept the decree.”

Qi Yan lowered his robe, knelt tall before the door, and Wei Zhen knelt beside him to receive the edict.

Zuo Ying slowly unfolded the bamboo scroll. Looking at the words, he solemnly read aloud.

“By the late King’s order, the throne shall pass to the Ninth Prince, Ji Wo. Princess Ji Qin’s son shall be titled Marquis and entrusted with military command. Let them join forces to quell rebellion and not betray the King’s teachings.”

Qi Yan’s back was straight as an arrow. He lifted both hands to receive the scroll. “Your subject shall not fail the late King’s teachings.”

He was about to stand when Zuo Ying’s hand pressed firmly on his shoulder, pushing him back to his knees. Qi Yan looked up, eyes burning with confusion.

Zuo Ying said, “Your Highness, wait. There’s one more line.”

Qi Yan once again knelt to receive the final words, his gaze resolute.

“If the Ninth Prince meets misfortune or proves lacking in virtue or ability, unfit to rule—then the Marquis may take his place.”