Chapter 84: Plum Blossoms and Snow

They stood beneath the plum trees as a gentle breeze wafted by. Snowflakes drifted down in ever-greater profusion, cloaking everything around them in a pale, silvery sheen. The dazzling brilliance of the snow soon stole the spotlight from the blossoms themselves.

“White snow, impatient with spring’s tardy colors, scatters through the courtyard as flying petals. The snow is truly heavy today, so much so that even the plum blossoms are eclipsed,” Gongshen Linger remarked as she gazed at the wintry scene in the courtyard, her words carrying heartfelt admiration for the snow.

The four of them were gathered in the covered pavilion of the Upper Academy, brewing tea and discussing philosophy. They sat around a square stone table, steam rising from their cups, while cozy braziers glowed nearby, infusing the outdoor air with warmth.

“By the wall, a few plum branches bloom alone against the cold. From afar, one knows it is not snow, for its subtle fragrance comes,” Xuexue softly recited, her tone gentle, almost as if speaking to herself. It was not the self-congratulatory sentiment that colored Gongshen Linger’s voice.

At these words, Gongshen Linger's expression stiffened; even her frosty beauty seemed unsettled for a moment. “Your Majesty, those are fine lines indeed. I pale in comparison,” she recovered her composure in a heartbeat, her smile as natural as ever.

Xuexue’s expression remained unchanged, only the faintest curve at the corner of her lips betraying a gentle amusement. “Speaking of the relationship between plum blossom and snow, the two are inseparable. ‘The plum must yield three shades of whiteness to the snow, but the snow falls short by a degree of fragrance.’ Many things in this world are relative, not absolute. Thus, the plum blossom and the snow complement each other, just as the saying goes: ‘adding flowers to brocade,’ is it not?”

“I must disagree, Your Majesty. Since there is contrast between the two, it is only natural to judge which is superior; otherwise, wouldn’t their similarities be wasted?” Gongshen Linger smiled, her expression tinged with polite dissent. “It’s like a game of chess—without deciding a winner, what’s the point of playing?”

“Master Gongshen, as I have said, everything in this world is relative, not absolute. You are free to hold your own opinions, and I would never impose mine upon you,” Xuexue replied with calm detachment, her expression serene. “Besides, this is but a digression. There’s no need to take it seriously.”

She was not at all angered by Gongshen Linger’s disagreement; rather, she seemed unconcerned, almost nonchalant.

Ji Wuqing and Zuo Qiu Liyen listened in silence. Neither offered any comment, but it was clear that Gongshen Linger found herself at a disadvantage, unable to turn the tide.

Ji Wuqing sipped his tea, a satisfied smile gracing his handsome features.

Excellent. His precious Xuexue was sharp-tongued and eloquent; there was no need to worry about her being bullied.

“Queen Ji is gifted with a sharp tongue,” remarked Zuo Qiu Liyen as he watched Gongshen Linger rendered speechless by Xuexue’s subtle retorts, evidently enjoying the spectacle.

“It’s simply a matter of reason prevailing,” Ji Wuqing replied, adopting a self-satisfied air, as though the praise was meant for him rather than Xuexue. “If Xuexue sets her mind to it, even I am not spared.”

“If Your Majesty says so, then I can only tremble in fear,” Xuexue said, cradling a hand-warmer in her hands, her pale beauty seeming to meld with the snowy world outside.

“No need for alarm. I am merely praising you.”

Xuexue suddenly felt their banter had taken a strange turn, as if they were deliberately showing off their affection.

“It is said King Ji dotes on his queen to an extraordinary degree. Rare indeed is such deep devotion within the royal family. Seeing you today, I find the rumors are true,” Zuo Qiu Liyen remarked, watching their subtle exchanges with an inscrutable expression on his alluring face.

It was as though he were plotting something in secret...

He turned his teacup, a sly curve touching his lips. Precisely because their love was such a rare treasure, he found himself all the more tempted to shatter it.

Like the tragic beauty of a flower withered after full bloom...

Throughout, Xuexue and Zuo Qiu Liyen exchanged barely a handful of words. But he was in no hurry. With Xuexue right before his eyes, why worry she might escape?

In the carriage leaving the palace, Zuo Qiu Liyen reclined on the cushioned bench, eyes closed as if in a doze. The rosewood carriage, carved with delicate patterns, rumbled slowly along, leaving a winding trail across the snow-blanketed ground.

The wind outside was sharp and cold. Gongshen Linger lifted the curtain, looking out at the world draped in silver, Xuexue’s words echoing in her mind. She had to admit, that blind queen was a match for her in wit and learning.

Perhaps, as Zuo Qiu had said, things truly were getting interesting.

The wind cut at her face, cold as a frozen blade.

“How is the task I assigned you coming along? The results should be evident soon, yes?” Zuo Qiu Liyen suddenly spoke from the divan, his tone languid.

“No need to rush, Your Highness. All things must proceed step by step,” she replied. She would never again underestimate that blind queen, and so she would proceed slowly, not rushing matters. Last time, her lack of understanding had led to error—she would not make the same mistake twice.

Back in the palace, Xuexue, still clutching the hand-warmer, let Ji Wuqing gently lead her to his study. They walked along the silent corridors, the snow outside still falling, driven by the wind.

Xuexue made no move to shield herself from the snow-laden breeze, finding the sensation bracing and invigorating.

“You’re quite resilient, unafraid of the cold,” he said, reaching out to shelter her from the wind and snow, gathering her into his embrace and wrapping her in his cloak. Compared to his warmth, the chill clinging to her was unmistakable.

“Indeed, just like the plum blossom—‘its fragrance comes only after enduring bitter cold,’” she replied mischievously from the shelter of his arms.

Ji Wuqing couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that a compliment to yourself, Xuexue? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“I am snow, not a plum blossom. How could I be praising myself?” she retorted with a raised brow, feigning innocence.

“Didn’t someone just say that all things are relative in this world?”

“I was only speaking in general terms.”

Her words provoked another helpless, doting laugh from him.

Once in the study, he settled her on a small couch. The air was faintly tinged with a subtle fragrance—not strong, just barely perceptible.

She lay down gently, lifting her head to catch the scent. “Is that plum blossom?” It seemed a branch had been placed in a vase nearby.

“Mm,” he answered lazily.

Gradually, lulled by the fragrance, she drifted off to sleep. Somewhere between waking and dreaming, someone softly removed her cloak and tucked her into the warm bedding.

Yet from that day on, she truly fell ill. The sickness struck with the force of a mountain, swallowing her whole. When she finally woke again, her body felt limp and weak, her strength all but gone.

She could smell nothing, only barely sense the familiar mattress beneath her—a bed in Anxue Palace.

She tried to raise an arm. Though it was an effort, she managed to lift her hand, however feebly. What had happened to her? Was she truly ill?

Perplexity crept into her heart, but she remained calm, even as her body failed her. Her memories halted at the study in the Upper Academy, where she’d lain down and slipped into slumber. When she awoke again, she found herself here.

“Xuexue.” A gentle voice, a familiar warmth closing over her hand. She recognized the large palm, the comforting temperature, the beloved voice.

“Ziqing...” she murmured, struggling to speak. Even to her own ears, her voice was faint, almost indistinguishable from a hallucination.

“I’m here.” She felt him sit beside her, holding her hand, his other palm coming to rest on her cheek, spreading warmth over her skin. “Rest well. You caught a chill that day and now you’re truly ill,” he whispered in her ear, his tone tinged with helpless amusement.

His voice seemed unreal to her, but with her eyes closed, she felt strangely at peace.

Ji Wuqing must be hiding something from her...

Seeing her drift off once again, Ji Wuqing’s face remained gentle and tender. He bent over her, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. Her brow was cold as ice, but the breath from her nose was warm.

Gradually, the tenderness faded from his face, his deep eyes losing all trace of Xuexue, replaced by a fleeting, icy sharpness.

Realizing he should not let her see such an expression, he hastily rose and left the bedchamber. Although Xuexue was still sleeping, he dared not relax his vigilance for an instant.

“Your Majesty, what shall we do next?” Miaojian had been waiting outside, his austere expression underscoring the gravity of the situation.

“We wait,” Ji Wuqing replied from the doorway, his white robes lending him a chill air.

“Wait?”

“We wait until I uproot the entire Luo clan and turn Wu Kingdom upside down. Even then, it would not be enough to pay for Xuexue’s suffering. But I do not want anyone buried with her—I only want her safe and sound.”

“I understand, Your Majesty. The surveillance at the relay station has not ceased. Should the King of Wu make any move, I will report at once,” Miaojian responded, his meticulous demeanor betraying the seriousness of the matter.

“Very well, you may go.” He stood in the doorway, the heavy palace and its many veils isolating him from what lay within.

He understood all too well Zuo Qiu Liyen’s motives. He just hadn’t expected him to use such venomous schemes. This time, he might have no choice but to play along.

Zuo Qiu Liyen had cleverly seized upon his weakness, and now, he and the Wu Kingdom were destined for irreconcilable enmity.