Chapter Eighty-Three: Seeking Plum Blossoms Amidst the Snow

The palace gardens bloomed with the radiant flowers of Caitie, their colors undiminished even in the depths of winter. She walked with a book in hand, slowly making her way toward the other side, but stopped at the corner, pausing in the corridor to listen.

She inhaled the breath of the wind, faint and mingled with the fragrance of Caitie blossoms, interlaced with the distinct scent of winter plum. After a moment’s thought, she turned around, following the trail of floral perfume, longing for a stroll in search of plum blossoms amidst the snow.

Meanwhile, just beyond the corner, a respectful voice spoke, “Miss Gongshen, this way please.” The young eunuch’s words brought her back to herself. She glanced toward the corner, then followed him into the study.

It struck her as odd—she could have sworn she sensed someone’s presence nearby, a refined aura as subtle as plum blossoms. Perhaps it was only her imagination.

The wind carried the fragrance of Caitie, and she lifted her elegant gown, following the eunuch into the study. Her violet robes shimmered with luxury and nobility; that streak of purple gradually faded behind the closing doors.

Inside, she raised her eyes and observed the furnishings with a cool, discerning gaze. She knew that King Ji had a particular fondness for Caitie flowers, yet the small jade vase in the study held not Caitie, but plum blossoms—red and white, strangely compatible.

She barely had time to examine them, her gaze soon settling upon him.

Years had passed since their last meeting, and he had changed considerably.

His profile was exquisitely handsome, lips curved in a subtle, ambiguous smile—neither distant nor intimate, but perfectly poised.

His features began to merge with her memories; unfamiliar, yet not alien.

She stepped forward quietly, surprised at her own composure. “Ling’er pays her respects to King Ji and the Emperor,” she said elegantly, her tone measured and clear, her voice announcing her presence.

Ji Wuqing, focused on his white chess piece, waved a hand without looking up from the board. “So this is the beauty who is the confidante of Lord Wu. I suppose she’s come for him. We’d best finish quickly.”

With that, he leisurely placed his piece.

“You misjudge. Ling’er is the esteemed heir of our Wu kingdom, hardly just a confidante,” Zuoqiu Liye countered, dropping his piece as well. His words held no hint of gallantry, but were tinged with partiality.

Throughout history, the term “confidante” always carried a hint of ambiguity—the so-called “beauty brings disaster” originated from such tales.

“Though I know little of your relationship with Miss Gongshen, Lord Wu, are you not aware that one should not be distracted during a match?” Ji Wuqing placed another piece, and judging by the board, he was in a favorable position.

“The outcome is still uncertain,” Zuoqiu Liye replied, his lips a faint red, dismissing the advantage as inconsequential.

Half an hour passed as their match continued, neither able to best the other.

Ji Wuqing was not surprised, merely blowing gently at his teacup. The tea released a delicate aroma—not a rare leaf but a unique floral blend.

“This tea is quite special. I hadn’t expected King Ji to have such refined tastes,” Gongshen Ling’er remarked, sitting nearby. Though the two men had ignored her, she remained entirely unruffled.

“If you like this floral tea, I’d be happy to send some to you,” Ji Wuqing said generously, his pride evident.

“Then I thank Your Majesty,” Gongshen Ling’er stood and bowed in gratitude, but his next words made her expression shift slightly.

“No need to thank me. This tea is the queen’s favorite, and she taught me the method of its preparation. I am merely carrying out her wishes.” When he mentioned the queen, his smile softened, pride undiminished.

The queen—the blind woman?

Not only did Gongshen Ling’er’s expression change, but even Zuoqiu Liye’s eyes flickered.

“The queen truly possesses a mind as graceful as orchids,” he said, his words laden with meaning, his fox-like eyes glinting with amusement, as if he were well acquainted with the Blood Queen.

“Too kind,” Ji Wuqing replied with a gentle smile.

Those two words shifted the atmosphere in the study. Ji Wuqing smiled elegantly, while Zuoqiu Liye’s smile was shadowed with a hint of mischief.

“I’ve long heard of the queen’s beauty. Ling’er truly wishes to see her, to witness her grace and charm,” Gongshen Ling’er said with a dazzling smile. The brighter she smiled, the more her face seemed haunted, her hidden heart shattered.

“Has Lady Gongshen heard the rumors about me?” Ji Wuqing asked.

“Rumors about Your Majesty?” Gongshen Ling’er was puzzled, unsure of his intent, but answered, “The world speaks highly of King Ji; a youthful monarch with rare accomplishments. For that, I admire you greatly.”

Ji Wuqing smiled, “Not so. I wasn’t seeking your compliments. But have you heard that I’m a stingy man? My treasured possessions are never shown to others—I simply cannot bear it. Should anyone defy me, even a thousand cuts would not suffice.”

He drank his tea, his voice still gentle, but his tone suddenly sharp, words full of implication.

Indeed, on the surface he addressed Ling’er’s curiosity about the queen, her desire to meet and unravel the mystery. But beneath, it was a blatant warning against their covetousness—a challenge as much as a threat.

“King Ji keeps secrets well, which only makes others more curious,” Zuoqiu Liye observed.

He savored the fragrant tea, his demonic beauty tinged with a strange expression.

“That’s what makes it all the more interesting, isn’t it? Let them itch with curiosity, unable to see or touch, left only with restless longing.”

In that instant, the atmosphere grew cold. The two men regarded one another—one calm and poised, the other wicked and brooding, both with faint, elusive smiles.

Elsewhere, Blood Snow was in high spirits, intent on her snowy stroll in search of plum blossoms. Unexpectedly, as she walked, snow began to fall. Fine, delicate flakes drifted through the air, and the once clear sky grew heavy and overcast.

Much like the fickle human heart—never knowing when it might change.

She gathered her fox-fur cloak around her, book still held lightly in her hand. Her small hand was pale as snow, stark against the blue cover. This snowy search for plum blossoms seemed perfectly fitting.

She felt the snowflakes brush past, a smile touching her lips.

At last, she stood beneath the plum tree. Red as flame, white as snow.

Such beauty, and she could only savor it through her senses, feeling the cold and the loveliness.

The snow grew heavier, swirling like wind-blown plum petals, drifting down slowly, landing on her shoulders and at her feet.

“Xue’er,” came a gentle call.

She turned slowly. Her red robes made her face look spotless, her hollow eyes fixed in that direction, her smile frozen like the brilliance of red plum, delicate yet dignified.

Who knew whose eyes or heart were unsettled by that smile...

“It’s snowing, Your Majesty,” she said, her tone tinged with wonder at the sudden, swirling snow.

“I know. That’s why I’ve come to seek plum blossoms in the snow,” he replied—seeking, of course, her, his plum blossom.

He walked to her side, drawing her into his embrace. He gently held her hand, still clutching the book—her small hand, not reddened from the cold, but icy and without warmth. “What a pity this plum branch nearly froze.”

He held her tightly, his tone a mix of helplessness and reproach.

“Your Majesty seems to have guests?” She lifted her head from his arms, facing Zuoqiu Liye and Gongshen Ling’er.

The two stood there, watching their closeness. Zuoqiu Liye observed quietly until Blood Snow turned toward them. “Blood Queen? She truly resembles a woman I met recently—almost scared me out of my wits.”

“So it is the monarch of Wu. Forgive my discourtesy,” Blood Snow replied, ignoring his implied meaning, pretending not to understand his words.

Zuoqiu Liye, seeing her calm demeanor, his demonic features betrayed a hint of surprise. “I hear the Blood Queen has been unwell lately, yet still so carefree?” He stood there, taking in her appearance.

Indeed, she was his little snow, and yet not.

She wore formal palace attire, wrapped in warm fox fur, her style elegant and refined. Only those hollow eyes were identical to Little Snow, and her indifferent tone was just the same.

“Thank you for your concern, but I am much recovered,” Blood Snow replied gently, her face warm and polite.

Beside her, Ji Wuqing warmed her hand, finally relieved. “Lord Wu is right—Xue’er, you never take care of yourself, always making me worry.”

“...It won’t happen again, Your Majesty, please don’t blame me.” Was he siding with Zuoqiu Liye? He certainly knew how to play along.

“How could I bear to blame you, my queen? Every word is full of genuine concern,” Gongshen Ling’er said, her gaze shifting from Blood Snow to Ji Wuqing.

No sooner had she heard of the snow outside than he rushed out to find his queen, paying no heed to their presence.

“I understand Your Majesty’s intentions,” Blood Snow nodded, unconsciously revealing the genuine affection between them.

End of book