Xie Chichun - Chapter 28

Slowly, blood seeped out, staining Han Jie’s dark qilin uniform like a patch dampened by tears. Xie Xuan stared into Han Jie’s eyes—they churned with turbulent emotions, threatening to pull her in, whether to warmth or icy depths. Her hand still clutched the golden hairpin, and she gradually became aware of something warm and sticky trickling over her fingers. When she looked down, she saw the blood.

Her senses snapped back abruptly. With a start, she withdrew her hand, horrified at the sight of the hairpin embedded in Han Jie’s chest.

She had actually…

Her arm trembled slightly as she instinctively loosened her grip, momentarily at a loss.

The resentment from earlier seemed to have flowed out with the blood as the hairpin pierced Han Jie. Now that her rationality had returned, she couldn’t help but whisper, “What do we do?” In both her past and present lives, this was the first time she had lost control like this—yet her first act of violence had been against Han Jie.

Han Jie watched her shifting emotions and suddenly smiled. “You’re still worried about me.”

“You’re injured!” Xie Xuan snapped, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief and thrusting it at him.

A trace of warmth finally surfaced in Han Jie’s stormy eyes. Ignoring the hairpin still lodged in his chest, he instead took Xie Xuan’s hand and gazed down at her. “Don’t be afraid. In the Black-Clad Guards, we’ve seen far worse. This little scratch is nothing.” Then he took the handkerchief from her, carefully pulled out the hairpin, and undid the collar of his robe to reveal the wound.

Xie Xuan could only stare blankly as he bared his shoulder and then his chest.

The skin she had once leaned against in intimacy was now stained with blood. The hairpin had sunk nearly an inch deep—proof of how fiercely she had struck. Xie Xuan stared dazedly at the wound until Han Jie handed her a small bottle of medicinal powder. “Xuanxuan, help me sprinkle this on.”

Once she had applied the powder, Han Jie folded the handkerchief and pressed it to his chest.

Xie Xuan exhaled in relief, only to realize that although Han Jie was no longer holding her, she was still pressed close against him. Before he could react, she quickly pulled away and stood up. The mountain moonlight was bright, and after her emotional outburst, her face was streaked with tears and her hands stained with blood. She had no desire to stay any longer. “Let’s go back.”

“But my wound hasn’t been bandaged yet,” Han Jie protested, still sitting on the ground.

Xie Xuan ignored him. The bleeding had stopped—at worst, the wound would hurt a little. She wasn’t about to bandage it for him!

Han Jie had no choice but to adjust his collar himself. When he looked up, Xie Xuan was already a dozen paces away. With his long legs, he caught up to her effortlessly. Seeing that she had no intention of acknowledging him, he slowed his steps and followed behind her. The petite figure of the girl ahead was wrapped in a cloak, but instead of looking imposing, it only accentuated her fragility. Unable to resist, Han Jie called out, “Want me to carry you back?”

“No need,” Xie Xuan replied without turning her head.

They walked in silence for a while before Han Jie spoke again. “If I’ve upset you, don’t hold it in—take it out on me. Stab me a thousand times if you want. Someone once said you’re like a little leopard, and now I see it. I thought you’d scratch my face up.” His tone carried a hint of teasing.

Xie Xuan snorted. “Who in the world doesn’t tremble at the mention of the Black-Clad Guards? I wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re the exception.” Han Jie chuckled softly, sounding just like the warm, lazy young master of the Jingning Marquisate from before—carefree and intimate with her alone. Glancing down at his chest, he murmured, “Xuanxuan, this heart of mine will surely shatter in your hands one day.”

Xie Xuan pursed her lips and ignored him, quickening her pace when she noticed Han Jie catching up again.

But with her short legs, how could she outrun someone tall, long-limbed, and skilled in qinggong? When he fell into step beside her again, Xie Xuan finally stopped and turned to him seriously. “Brother Yujie, I know you mean well, but the matter between the Xie and Han families was decided by our elders. Please don’t do things like this again.”

“Mm,” Han Jie nodded.

—As if it had been the elders’ decision! She was the one who had schemed to break off the engagement!

He had only followed her this time out of concern. Recalling their past life in the temple, he had wanted to take her to the mountains for a quiet moment under the stars. Who knew it would end like this? Still, Xie Xuan had voluntarily revealed a bit of her thoughts to him—that was progress.

His wrist bore her bite marks, his chest her handkerchief. Though the path was rocky, he was slowly unraveling the knots in her heart. As long as she was willing to speak her mind, to vent her emotions, it was better than keeping everything bottled up.

This was his beloved wife. No matter how much pain or suffering he had to endure, he would gladly bear it.

—

When Tao-shi returned from her discussions at the neighboring temple, she was slightly surprised to see four people standing in a row—Tao Congshi and Xie Xuan were expected, as was the sweet girl clinging to Tao Congshi’s side, Tao Yuan. But who was the young man standing behind Xie Xuan?

Having devoted herself to spiritual cultivation for years, Tao-shi usually paid little attention to worldly matters. Yet seeing the man standing so close to Xie Xuan, she couldn’t help but take a second look.

Tao Congshi explained, “This is Han Jie of the Jingning Marquisate, two years older than Jun’er.”

At this, Tao-shi remembered.

When she left the Xie residence, Xie Jun had already been five, and Han Jie was seven. The two families had interacted, so she recalled the mischievous child. But a decade later, that unruly little troublemaker had grown into a tall, noble young man. Dressed in his qilin uniform, bathed in sunlight, he exuded an air of dignified grace.

Though she no longer lived in the Xie household, Tao-shi occasionally heard updates about her children from Tao Congshi. She knew Han Jie had been betrothed to Xie Xuan before the engagement was broken. Seeing him now, she guessed he was unwilling to let go of Xie Xuan, and her heart swirled with mixed emotions.

Gazing at the jade-like young man, she couldn’t help but think of Xie Zhen in his youth. A wave of irritation rose in her, and she quickly pushed the thought aside, inviting everyone inside.

Truthfully, Xie Xuan hadn’t come with any particular purpose in mind.

She and Tao-shi had only recently reunited, and their interactions had been limited. With little emotional foundation, their conversation soon petered out. Sitting on a bamboo chair in the temple, Xie Xuan’s gaze drifted to the rolling mountains outside the window, her thoughts wandering—

Would this plan work?

Her father, Xie Zhen, was soft-hearted, easily swayed, and prone to avoidance. His refined, gentle demeanor had captivated the young Tao-shi, but when faced with difficulties, he became as frustrating as a lump of dough. For ten years, the Xie family had treated the Mystic Temple as taboo, never speaking of it. Xie Zhen had comfortably avoided the issue, drowning in regret and guilt yet never daring to step foot in the temple again. Now that the Mystic Temple was frequently mentioned in his life, would it stir something in him?

The thought exhausted her. Having such a father was truly exasperating.

Lost in thought, she suddenly heard Tao Congshi calling her. “…Xuanxuan, Xuanxuan? What are you daydreaming about?”

“Huh?” Xie Xuan snapped back to reality, finding everyone looking at her. For a moment, she didn’t understand what was happening.

Fortunately, Han Jie stepped in. “Master Jade Void asked if you like it here. If so, you could stay a few more days.”

“I don’t like it,” Xie Xuan turned away, though her tone softened slightly as her eyes met Tao-shi’s. “Not very much.”

Tao Congshi chuckled. “The way you were staring just now, I thought you were enchanted. By the way, she got you a blessing pouch for protection. Should I help you put it on?”

Having only recently reconnected with Tao-shi, Xie Xuan naturally had no emotional attachment to her and immediately declined. “No need. Grandfather has already made offerings at the Xuanyang Temple for the family’s safety. The Pure Void Master there is said to be very efficacious—one blessing is enough.”

Han Jie shot her a glance and reached out to Tao-shi. “Since the master went to the trouble of obtaining it, let me hold onto it for now. I’ll give it to Xuanxuan when she wants it.”

But Tao-shi handed it to Tao Congshi instead. “No need to trouble Young Master Han. Her uncle can keep it for her.”

Han Jie’s attempt to ingratiate himself fell flat, and he could only withdraw his hand.

After sitting for a while, Xie Xuan and Tao Yuan went to explore the temple, leaving Tao Congshi and Tao-shi to talk. Han Jie, not wanting to intrude, also went out for a stroll.

As the curtain fell behind them, Tao-shi withdrew her gaze and asked, “This Han Jie—does he treat Xuanxuan well?”

“From what I’ve seen, yes. They were betrothed since childhood, and Han Jie has always looked out for Xuanxuan. Their bond runs deep. Even though the engagement was broken, he hasn’t given up. He came here both times—it seems his feelings are genuine.”

Tao-shi smiled faintly, her eyes cool. “When they’re young, who isn’t sincere and steadfast?”

Just like the tender, devoted Xie Zhen of the past—exquisitely carved jade, gentle and affectionate. Among all the suitors in the capital, she had been drawn to his refined elegance and quietly accepted the match. Once, they had been deeply in love, inseparable. Yet in the end, hadn’t he still strayed, fathering a child outside their marriage?

In the midst of it, it had felt like soaking in a warm spring. Looking back now, it was nothing but desolation.

All those sweet words and tender moments had been nothing more than a mirage.

Knowing his sister’s emotional wounds, Tao Congshi didn’t press further. “Everyone has their own destiny. Let’s see how things unfold.”

“Destiny is too uncertain. Xuanxuan surely won’t listen to my advice, so please watch over her.” Tao-shi lowered her head, her fingers resting on the Eight Trigrams in her lap. “Times change, and so do people. When warmth fades amid life’s trivialities, all that remains is suspicion and indifference. My greatest regret is believing his lies back then and marrying him with such hope.”

—Only to end with broken love and shattered trust, a decade of icy separation without contact.

If she could do it over, she would cast aside sentimentality and follow her father’s arrangements, marrying into a harmonious family with kind in-laws—never again yearning for moonlit promises and tender affection.

But regrets were meaningless now.

—

On the way back to the city, Tao Congshi and Han Jie rode on horseback while the two girls traveled by carriage. The mountain scenery was breathtaking, so they rolled up the carriage curtains, chatting happily with Tao Congshi as they admired the view. Though Han Yu didn’t join the conversation, hearing Xie Xuan’s occasional laughter lifted his spirits.

The mountain path wound sinuously, and in a valley stood an octagonal pavilion. Han Jie, with his sharp martial artist’s eyes, had been idly enjoying the scenery when his gaze snagged on the figure inside the pavilion—a man in an unremarkable blue scholar’s robe, staring up at the mountain peak. There was something familiar about his silhouette.

Han Jie looked closer and was startled to recognize Xie Zhen.

Gone were the luxurious robes of the Duke’s household. Dressed plainly, he stood motionless, gazing upward. Following his line of sight, Han Jie spotted a corner of the Mystic Temple’s roof. As the path descended, aligning with Xie Zhen’s perspective, he realized the angle offered a clear view of several temple halls, unobstructed by trees.

Was he…

Understanding dawned on Han Jie. Xie Zhen was watching Tao-shi’s temple from afar.

Baffled by Xie Zhen’s behavior, Han Jie suppressed his confusion and hurried to catch up with Xie Xuan’s group, saying nothing about what he had seen.

Tao Congshi and Han Jie escorted Xie Xuan to the gates of the Hengguo Duke’s residence before departing. When Xie Xuan returned to the Pear Blossom Courtyard, Luo-Shi was standing in the central courtyard, overseeing a flurry of activity—servants pruning plants, replacing window screens, changing birdcages, tending to flowers and trees…

The courtyard buzzed with busyness. Spotting Xie Xuan, Luo-Shi plastered on a smile. “Xuanxuan, you’re back? The kitchen has prepared mung bean soup to cool you down. I’ll have someone bring it to you later.”

“The sun’s almost set—no need to ‘cool down.’ But thank you, Madam.” Xie Xuan brushed past her into the western courtyard, where Xie Jun was waiting.

She clung to her sister’s hand. Xie Jun chided, “Did you lose track of time playing outside again? Look how late it is.”

“The scenery was beautiful, and Cousin Yuan had never been there before, so we lingered. By the way, Sister, did Madam go to the ancestral hall again today?”

“She did. Someone was gossiping about it and got scolded by Grandmother.”

“Still shielding her, huh?” Xie Xuan clicked her tongue. “She’s embarrassing the Pear Blossom Courtyard. Father must be annoyed too.” Noticing a scroll on the table, she picked it up curiously. “What’s this?”

“See for yourself.” Xie Jun suppressed a smile and instructed Fangzhou, “Prepare hot water for her to wash up. It’s not like she walked back—where did all this dust come from? What, stunned speechless?”

“This… this… Who painted this?!” Xie Xuan gaped at the scroll.

The painting was far from masterful—clumsy, even, as if someone accustomed to wielding a sword had picked up a brush to depict gentle landscapes, resulting in an awkward mismatch. The subject was a young girl standing by a willow-draped shore, stretching on tiptoe to pluck a branch. Though her face wasn’t fully shown, her figure, posture, and attire left no doubt—it was Xie Xuan.

The most absurd part was the two large caterpillars crawling toward her, rendered with laughable ineptitude.

Xie Jun chuckled. “Caiyi secretly sent someone to deliver it. That mischievous girl probably wanted to tease you properly but had to leave reluctantly when you weren’t home. Any guesses who the artist is?”

Since Han Caiyi had access to it, it had to be Han Jie—especially given the crude technique, which matched his martial-focused, literature-neglecting background.

Xie Xuan snorted and handed the scroll to Mu Ye. “Burn it!”

“Why burn a perfectly good painting?” Xie Jun didn’t stop her. Once Mu Ye was gone, she beckoned Xie Xuan closer and whispered, “It wasn’t Han Jie.”

If not Han Jie, then who? Xie Xuan was baffled.

“Caiyi’s cousin, Tang Lingjun from the Xiping Earl’s household—have you met him? Caiyi said she stole this from him, claiming you’d understand once you saw it. She said he holds grudges and warned you to be careful in the future.” Xie Jun couldn’t help laughing at the crooked caterpillars. “What exactly happened?”

“It was at the Xiechi Literary Society last time. That Tang Lingjun tried to scare Caiyi and me with caterpillars, so I grabbed a willow branch and stuffed a few down his collar.” Xie Xuan exhaled. “Who knew he’d be so petty as to paint this ugly thing to vent his spite!”

Hearing it was nothing serious, Xie Jun also laughed. “I’ve only ever heard of Tang Lingjun’s mischievousness, but he seems like an amusing boy.”

The sisters shared a laugh before linking arms to head to dinner.

—

A few days later came the summons from Noble Consort Wan for Xie Xuan to accompany the Fifth Princess in the palace. Early that morning, Luo-shi was up and about, dressing Xie Yue beautifully before fawning over Xie Xuan with excessive concern. Claiming the Dowager Duchess had instructions for them, she brought both girls to the Rongxi Pavilion.