Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 87: Torrential Rain

Chapter 87: Torrential Rain

A palace maid stepped into the outer hall, the sound of her footsteps growing closer, lingering near Wei Zhen’s ears. She knew that if the palace maids discovered Qi Yan’s presence, it would surely alarm the King of Wei. Immediately, she said, “You may go now—there’s no need for your service here.”

Her voice carried a trace of panic and caused the maid to pause in confusion. Taking a few more steps forward, she hesitantly asked, “Princess, you’ve just finished your bath and your hair isn’t dry. If you go to bed like this, you’ll wake with a headache. Allow me to dry your hair first.”

Wei Zhen looked at the man lying beneath her. Her palm still felt the warmth of his lips, and her fingertip curled slightly. “No need.”

Just then, another set of footsteps echoed. It was Lianchan, who had entered the room. Wei Zhen said softly, “Lianchan, you may go too.”

Lianchan was startled. “Princess, do you not need me to attend you for the night?”

She lifted her head. Vaguely visible behind the bed curtain, the shadow of the bedding looked unusually bulky. Lianchan’s brow furrowed, sensing that the princess seemed especially strange this evening.

Still, she dared not disobey an order. After a moment, she simply replied, “Yes, Princess.”

As the sound of retreating footsteps faded, Wei Zhen lowered her gaze and met the dark, glittering eyes below her.

Warm breath escaped his thin lips, tickling her palm. Slowly, she withdrew her hand.

With the doors closed, only the faint sound of the ornate golden incense burner remained in the room.

Wei Zhen sat up, but as she moved, the towel wrapped around her slipped down. Qi Yan, who had just risen, glanced at her chest before quickly looking back up to meet her gaze.

Under the candlelight, her skin gleamed brighter than frost and snow, her shoulders covered in fine droplets of water, her cheeks flushed with a faint red mist from the bath. She was like a lotus emerging from water, radiant and delicate. Slightly embarrassed, she picked up the undergarments from a nearby golden tray and stepped behind the screen to change. Only after a long moment did she finally emerge.

Qi Yan sat leisurely on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. Seeing her draped in a thin light robe, he remarked, “There was no need to hide from me like that.”

He reached out and drew her back to sit beside him. Wei Zhen, noticing the dampness of his clothes, shifted away slightly. “You’re soaked.”

Qi Yan leaned closer. “Your hair is wet too.”

Taking a soft cotton towel in both hands, he gently wrapped it around her hair and began drying it. Wei Zhen, feeling the gentleness of his fingers, said, “Back in Jin Palace, you always came to me secretly. Now that we’re in Wei, you still haven’t given up climbing through windows.”

She turned her head slightly, surprised to find Qi Yan so close. His nose brushed her ear, and warm breath fell against her skin.

“You came to Wei Palace to ask my father for military support, didn’t you?” Wei Zhen asked.

Qi Yan raised an eyebrow. “I rode day and night without pause, braving storms without rest. Even Starry Night, my steed^1, was pushed to exhaustion. Do you truly think I did all that… to see your father?”

His crimson lips neared hers. Those bright and beautiful eyes blinked, lashes casting perfect shadows. The heavens truly favored this man’s face. Especially when his gaze was filled with affection—it was like a clear spring, drawing her in as if she might drown in it.

Outside, rain poured onto the leaves. Wei Zhen turned her face to the side, unable to distinguish whether it was the storm she heard—or the pounding of her heart.

Qi Yan’s hand rested over her chest. She instinctively pulled away, but he caught her again, saying, “Tell me—who did I come to see, Princess of Wei?”

His deep, magnetic voice brushed past her ear, carrying that mature sensuality unique to men.

Wei Zhen trembled. His gaze felt like invisible flames burning through her body, making her flush anxiously. “Me. You came to see me.”

“Mhm,” he hummed lowly, a sound that seemed to nibble at her heart like tiny ants.

Qi Yan guided her hand to his cheek. “You haven’t noticed how much weight I’ve lost?”

Wei Zhen examined him. After three months apart, his features truly had sharpened, his expression more defined. The weight of battle had erased the melancholy he once carried, replaced by the grace of a seasoned man.

She knew he had lost weight from long travels on the battlefield. “How is the situation at the front?”

“All is steady now. Southern forces are secured, Ji Wo has successfully claimed the throne, and we’ve won two engagements against Ji Yuan. Their forces won’t act rashly for a while. With the situation stable, I came to see you.”

He asked, “And how are things for you in Wei? I saw you arguing with an official today outside the royal chambers. From what I can tell, the Wei court is divided and factional, and you’ve been away for years. It must be hard to integrate.”

Wei Zhen replied, “My father dotes on me and always stands by my side. Those ministers can’t touch me—you don’t need to worry.”

Qi Yan smiled slightly. “Then… after all this time apart, did you miss me?”

That, she hadn’t expected. It brought back the memory that he hadn’t sent her a single letter since her return.

Wei Zhen immediately answered, “No. Not one bit.”

Qi Yan froze. Wei Zhen turned her face away. After a few moments, he started gathering his things. “Well, if you don’t miss me, I’ll take my leave.”

He walked toward the window. “Wei Zhen, I really will go.”

Still, she said nothing.

“It’s raining outside—you know if I try to leave now, I’ll be soaked.”

Wei Zhen heard it but didn’t move. She was gambling—certain he wouldn’t go. But the next instant, the window creaked open, a gust of cold wind entered, and someone landed lightly on the floor.

Her head snapped up, only to see Qi Yan still standing there inside.

Shutting the window behind him, he raised his brow and said, “Princess couldn’t bear to let me go after all, could you?”

“I didn’t,” Wei Zhen countered stubbornly.

Qi Yan walked back to her. Before she could react, he had bent down, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her deeply.

His lips were cold and wet, jolting her nerves, but his taut body burned like fire—a passionate, aggressive heat.

Wei Zhen flushed as his kiss lingered. “You got my shoulder wet.”

Qi Yan let her go, removed his soaked robe, tossed it onto a nearby table, and kissed her again, his breath intertwining with his low voice.

His fingers threaded through hers, pulling them open, and he whispered between kisses, “I crossed a thousand miles to see you. How could I just leave like that?”

Each kiss fell upon her lips, her pert nose, her long curled lashes…

Wei Zhen rested her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. “Why must you always kiss me like this? Even on our wedding night, just to make me stop being angry—”

“It works though, doesn’t it?” Qi Yan smiled. “As long as it works. Don’t you want me to kiss you?”

Her breathing quickened, eyes fluttering shut. Her forehead rested against his chest. His lips always melted her, made her weak, until she surrendered entirely.

Backed into a corner between the bedpost and his body, his kisses fell again and again. Wei Zhen’s nerves stretched taut, dreading that the next kiss might overwhelm her completely.

Qi Yan asked, “Why didn’t you want to see me?”

Wei Zhen gave no reply.

So he kissed her again.

Breathless, she finally gasped, “Qi Yan, in these three months, you’ve never written to me.”

His pressure eased. Qi Yan withdrew slightly, smiling. “So that’s what you were holding against me? I wanted to write—but I worried the letters might be intercepted. Being in the palace, your situation wasn’t safe. Rather than risk that, I decided it’d be better to come myself.”

Wei Zhen paused. His deep eyes locked with hers, voice soft, “I missed you. Every morning and dusk, I missed you. Wondering how you were doing in the Wei palace, if you were safe, if you were in trouble… So I came to find you.”

The flickering candlelight seemed to kiss her heart with warmth. All her resentment melted into tenderness.

It was never the absence of letters that truly upset her.

Knowing he was busy and exhausted at the front, all she had wanted was to understand why. If she were truly angry, would she have let him kiss her like this—again and again?

Wei Zhen leaned in, cupping his cheek. “When you appeared, I was overjoyed. Let me see—are you hurt at all?”

Qi Yan hesitated. Sensing his reluctance, her tone turned firm. “Show me.”

He sighed, unfastened his inner robe, and slowly turned around, showing her both back and front. “No injuries—I followed your advice and took good care of myself.”

He looked down. “And what about your injuries? Let me see.”

Back in Chouyou, she had cut her wrist. The scar had since mostly healed after three months of treatment. She showed him. Relieved, he nodded.

“Let me see your back.”

Sitting up, Wei Zhen untied her robe and turned around, pulling her hair forward.

Though her back was as smooth as jade, there remained a faint mark—a whip scar left when she shielded him.

His fingers traced it gently. “It’s been a while, but the mark still shows.”

Wei Zhen smiled, unconcerned. “It’s on my back. No one sees it. Doesn’t matter.”

But it still weighed on him.

She looked back at him, her eyes glimmering like jewels. “How many days’ ride from southern Jin to Wei’s capital?”

“Eight,” came Qi Yan’s soft reply.

She remembered the heavy rainfall just days ago. If he came directly, he would have ridden in the rain nearly every day.

“Are you alright? Maybe I should summon a doctor to check.”

Before she finished, he leaned forward and pinned her beneath him. Wei Zhen’s heart leapt. Her arms wrapped instinctively around his.

Droplets from his damp hair fell onto her cheeks, mixed with hers, soaking the pillow and linens.

Eyes locked, the warmth between them intensified.

Qi Yan reached for the cord on her robe. She noticed the heat in his gaze and flushed deep red.

Love gave rise to longing—and with it, desire. Their early separation after marriage had only let longing grow unchecked. Now reunited, all that emotion ignited in silence.

He asked, “When we made eye contact at the palace earlier today, didn’t you recognize me?”

“I thought I saw resemblance in build,” Wei Zhen replied. “But you had a beard…”

Qi Yan leaned in, voice hoarse, “Still, if it were you—no matter how you changed—I’d recognize you instantly. After all we’ve shared, how could you not know?”

Before she could respond, his lips pressed down again, silencing everything.

When two hearts align, what follows becomes natural.

Unlike their shy wedding night, he was now experienced and confident. Wei Zhen had underestimated how strong a soldier like Qi Yan could be—despite his lean frame, every inch of his body was honed on the battlefield.

He, like a drawn blade, was sheathed in burning fire.

She, by contrast, delicate like a flower in rain, soaked and trembling, easy to break with a touch.

Outside, the storm raged. Moths passed the swaying lanterns outside, throwing shadows across the wet night.

The candle dimmed and disappeared, leaving only a thin trail of smoke. Wei Zhen gripped the bedpost, earrings swaying, fingernails skimming claw marks into the wood.

The maids had long been dismissed, but she didn’t dare make a sound. Any noise might be overheard, and her body tensed from the stress, which only enhanced his discomfort.

His hand cupped her waist from behind. “Now do you recognize me? Would you know me next time?”

Wei Zhen bit her lip. Though she answered yes, he wouldn’t relent—she finally snapped and whispered, “Of course I do…”

But then murmured, “Shameless.”

The words, soft like spring dewdrops, made him want to draw more from her.

He lowered his voice at her ear, “Didn’t you call me shameless before, Princess?”

She remembered—during an earlier secret visit to her room in Jin Palace, when their relationship was still hidden, he had kissed her relentlessly and asked if she wanted that “shameless man” to kiss her.

The situation now wasn’t much different.

He whispered again, lips brushing her ear, “Then does the Princess want that shameless man…”

Before he even finished, her earlobes turned crimson.

With a voice like velvet laced with temptation, he gently coerced her again with tender threats, leaving her no room to hide.

The summer downpour raged like it could swallow the world. Vapor rose in the palace as flowers wilted under the weight of rain, their petals drifting miserably on the wind.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Wei Zhen froze, panic rising.

“Princess, are you resting?”

She dared not speak. Her earrings kept tapping nervously against her cheek.

The room was thick with love. A drop of sweat from Qi Yan’s brow fell onto her nose. She clung to the sheet, hearing—“We forgot to change the ice in the main brazier, Princess. If you’ve gone to sleep, I fear you’ll wake hot in the night. May I enter to bring new ice?”

Wei Zhen, out of breath, patted Qi Yan’s shoulder, gesturing for him to hide.

Everything was a mess—clothes strewn around, windows ajar—if Lianchan came in, she’d know.

Summoning strength she didn’t know she had, Wei Zhen pushed Qi Yan away and threw a quilt over him—only for the thick fabric to land squarely over his head.

Then came her breathless voice, “L-Lianchan, d-don’t come in—”

“What’s wrong, Princess?”

“I’m fine… Just go.”

But her delicate voice only made suspicion worse.

After a long moment, Lianchan finally answered. Her footsteps faded.

Wei Zhen pulled back the quilt, blushing furiously. “You think Lianchan will realize?”

Qi Yan’s throat bobbed; he exhaled slowly. “Ask her in the morning. She’s your maid—she won’t say anything.”

Tears still lingered on her lashes from earlier. Qi Yan leaned in to kiss her once more.

At dawn, Wei Zhen stirred to the sound of movement beside her. Drowsily, she opened her eyes. The sky outside was still grey, and Qi Yan was already up, dressed.

The candle had burned late. She had barely rested. “You’re leaving?”

“Soon. Once the maids and guards are about, it’ll be harder to get out. Go back to sleep. I’ll tidy up a bit. We’ll meet again in the main hall after noon.”

Wei Zhen propped herself up to watch.

The room was chaotic—clothes on the floor, furniture in disarray, even the window… utterly unsightly. She hugged the quilt, trying to sit up, but exhausted, she soon drifted back to sleep.

By the time she woke again, Qi Yan was gone. Outside, Lianchan’s voice called, “Princess, it’s time to rise.”

Wei Zhen stirred slightly. Her waist ached, her limbs sore—she couldn’t get up.

The silk blanket slid off her shoulder, exposing skin marked by bruises. Lianchan froze.

Wei Zhen slumped over the bed, too weary to care. “Tell Father… I’m a little tired today. I won’t visit him this morning.”

Lianchan turned away quickly, face flushed. “Yes, Princess. I’ll go inform the King.”