Chapter Two: His Promise

Faced with the girl's calm and fluent replies, Ji Wuqing released her chin and bent down to draw closer, an inscrutable expression flickering across his extraordinarily handsome face.

In the next instant, his hands, pale and smooth as white jade, gently seized hers, and with the lightest tug, he pulled her to her feet. Having knelt for so long, Xuexue's legs were numb, and she stumbled, falling into Ji Wuqing’s arms.

His chest was rigid, yet also warm.

Especially that fresh, delicate fragrance—it was as though she stood amidst a bamboo grove, surrounded by verdant green, a world of tranquility and beauty one could not help but wish to linger in. It was but a fleeting greed; Xuexue quickly steadied herself, refusing to remain reliant on his support.

Ji Wuqing merely responded to her actions with a faint smile. “You must not regret your decision.” He lowered his head, his words soft as a whisper.

All the soldiers in the courtyard kept their heads bowed, eyes averted; this brief interlude drew only the slightest sidelong glances. The grieving consorts of the Yu Kingdom wept quietly for themselves, taking no note of the scene unfolding before them.

A decision—yes, just as the King of Ji had said, she had seized her own chance, to become his “parrot.” Not to die like an ant, but to continue living. It was not that she lacked patriotism; to her, the Yu Kingdom was only a three-month bond, too brief to foster any true sentiment. Besides, Yu’s fate was sealed, its annexation by Ji perhaps a blessing to the common folk.

After all, what the people desire is simply to live in peace and security, not to be tossed by the chaos of a tyrant’s rule.

“Your Highness, it is you who should be careful not to regret.” Her identity was a sensitive topic; in the eyes of others, her presence was a ticking danger, and exposure would spell trouble.

“I happen to relish such endless challenges, my future queen,” he replied, his breath warm as sunlight, his words drifting like smoke—dreamlike, ethereal—yet they left Xuexue momentarily astonished.

Queen? To be bestowed with such a noble title was, indeed, a shackle.

Since ancient times, how many women had entered the palace solely to vie for that supreme symbol of status and power? To her, it was all but fleeting smoke—an empty, noble rank.

In this quietly charged exchange, it seemed as though a subtle, inaudible agreement had been reached between them.

“His Highness Ji appears quite interested in our Snow Empress,” a woman’s voice cut through, laced with venom and mockery, the words especially jarring.

She was the favored consort of the Marquis of Yu, famed for her beauty and cleverness. A stolen glance at Ji Wuqing had left her heart aflutter; the man’s gentle handsomeness, his godlike bearing, ensnared her at first sight.

Yet her words rang out like a sudden thunderclap. No one present was a fool; the implication was clear to all.

“Qinghe, cut out her tongue, and send her to the barracks. Let her serve as a reward for the soldiers of Ji,” Ji Wuqing said softly, idly fanning himself. His hands were flawless as white jade; his voice, beautiful to the core, now carried an unintentional stain of blood.

“Yes, my lord.” The man named Qinghe bowed, face devoid of expression.

Instant terror seized the courtyard; the talkative woman was stunned into silence. Her once-alluring face turned instantly ashen, the rouge on her cheeks no longer able to hide her pallor. Her delicate pink gown trailed upon the ground; where once she was pitiable, now she appeared only wretched.

She had been arrogant for her beauty, proud of her so-called wit, and domineered the harem by virtue of the Marquis of Yu’s favor—a beloved daughter of heaven. Though by birth she could only rank below Xuexue as Noble Consort, she had always enjoyed far more than Xuexue ever did. Now, her beauty could not compare to Ji Wuqing’s; her cleverness had led her to disaster; everything she possessed had become a bitter joke.

“Your Highness Ji, have mercy! Spare me, I beg of you…” Suddenly realizing her dire situation, Consort He dropped to her knees, face drained of hope, pleading desperately. She had never imagined that a mere sentence would doom her eternally.

No matter how beautiful, a woman without self-awareness is but a painted shell, her true nature revealed in an instant.

Consort He’s despairing cries faded into the distance, leaving only infinite desolation behind.

Perhaps, at its loftiest heights, power is also pitiless.

After three months of war, the conflict between Ji and Yu finally came to an end. The consorts of Yu were moved into the Cold Palace, sentenced to lifelong confinement, without exception.

The Kingdom of Ji.

The entire nation was steeped in celebration—not only for the victory, but also because their exalted king was about to crown a queen. In truth, the war with Yu had attracted little attention; Yu was too insignificant a state. Yet Yu’s unexpected resistance had drawn some notice. Still, compared to the excitement over the king’s forthcoming queen, it all seemed trivial.

They did not know who this queen would be, but they rejoiced for their beloved king all the same.

The royal palace, Anxue Palace.

The palace gleamed with gold and jade. Above the gate hung a plaque inscribed in elegant script—Anxue Palace. It was said the king himself had written it, and craftsmen had carved the characters as he had penned them. The plaque itself was adorned with scenes of drifting snow, and if one looked closely, the faint silhouettes of plum blossoms could be seen amidst the wintry scene.

Even before her investiture, she already enjoyed the king’s favor, and word spread through the palace of how the future queen was cherished above all.

Small bridges, flowing streams, withered lotus leaves, pavilions and towers, the mist of evening touched with frost.

Within a jade pavilion, atop a carved round table of white stone, were set emerald-green lotus dumplings, sesame-topped pastries, flower-adorned cakes, and a pot of fragrant blossom tea. Attendant maids stood respectfully on either side, eyes lowered, silent and attentive.

“Your Grace, be careful not to catch a chill.” As the words fell, a brocade cloak lined with goose down was gently draped over the girl’s shoulders, covering her slender form.

The girl raised her head slightly, but said nothing.

Her pale fingers traced each word in the book before her, as though contemplating their meaning. The maid in green quietly withdrew behind her.

“Mother, what character is this?” Seated at her side, a little girl naturally handed her the book, her small hand taking Xuexue’s, guiding her to a character she did not recognize.

Xuexue touched it lightly with her fingertip, as if outlining its form, then smiled faintly.

“This is the character for ‘fish,’ as in the fish stew you love best. I taught you this last time, did you forget again?” She turned to the child, her tone gentle, yet the attending maids were inwardly astonished.

Was their lady truly a blind woman?

…Author’s Note…

Is the pacing of “The Blind Queen” a little fast? ^_^