Thousand Verdant Mountains – Chapter 158
Chapter 158
A gust of night wind rushed in with the slowly opening city gate. The horse that had been confined for many days smelled the fresh spring grass in the countryside from the wind, neighed happily, passed through the long gate, and galloped of the city.
Xuyu’s eyelids were half-closed, her body soft and relaxed, leaning completely into the embrace of the person behind her—a hold broad and steady enough to carry her. She let him guide her forward, peacefully entering the quiet countryside of Chang’an under the night sky.
It must be that the moonlight tonight was too dreamlike, casting her thoughts adrift—her body seemed to float, her soul still lingering in the world of the painting. If not for the strong arm wrapped firmly around her waist, she thought she might have drifted away entirely.
Pei Xiaoyuan did not disturb her at all. Once they were outside the city, he only quietly tightened the reins to restrain Jinwuzhui’s eager gait, so as not to startle her who seemed to be immersed in her own world in his arms. Soon, Jinwuzhui seemed to understand its’ master’s intentions. Though the hooves were still brisk, they slowed to a gentle rhythm. Unhurried, it carried its master and mistress past the garrison in the north of the city, sometimes through fields blooming with wildflowers of every color, sometimes along forested trails thick with elms and willows. Gradually, the mud spots brought up by the horse’s hooves became soft, the grass fragrance in the wind became richer, and the sound of rushing water came into the ears. Jinwuzhui came to a stop, snorted gently. In response, Xuyu looked around and saw the river lying in front of her. Without realizing it, they had arrived at the banks of the Wei River. Nearby stood the Wei Bridge—and that familiar riverside pavilion.
To celebrate the upcoming triumphant return of the soldiers, lanterns were lit up on both banks. The flames extended for several miles, decorating the Wei River like a fire dragon winding eastward.
This scene was like a dream. However, it goes without saying what this place meant for both of them.
She just assumed that it was because he let his horse run wild, and Jinwuzhui was attracted by the lush grass around the water and carried them all the way here.
It didn’t matter to her, but she was afraid that it would dampen his mood.
She came to her senses, stretched out her hand, grabbed the loosely hanging reins, and was about to stir the horse around to drive away, but unexpectedly an arm reached out from behind, not using much force, but firmly grasping the back of her hand, stopping her action.
She turned her head and looked at the person behind her.
The moonlight poured down, falling onto the river surface, quietly reflecting the thousands of lights on both sides of the river.
In his eyes, it seemed that a hint of the moonlight had also entered, flickering with a few glimmers of lights.
“Are you tired?” he asked in a gentle voice.
She shook her head subconsciously. He smiled, got off the horse, and then stretched out his hand to her.
Xuyu was taken aback.
It turned out that Jinwuzhui had not mistakenly went to this familiar place.
Although she was a little confused as to why he brought her here, but since he had no reservations, she naturally had no problem with it either.
She happily dismounted and walked side by side with him along the river bank where the lights of the lantern mingled with the moonlight.
“I was busy these past few days. Was Xiao Hu’er well behaved? Did he cry when he slept at night?”
“He’s very well behaved. Waking at night doesn’t matter. I couldn’t sleep anyway. I just asked Amu to feed him a little, then I kept him company. We played until he got tired—then he fell asleep on his own.”
The son’s eyelids were drooping with sleepiness, but the father would not let him sleep and kept teasing him until his head tilted to one side, and he fell into a deep sleep with saliva dripping from his mouth while still sitting on the bed.
Listening to his description and imagined this scene she had never seen before, Xuyu couldn’t help but chuckle and leaned into his arms with laughter.
He stopped by the riverside, supported her, and watched her laugh until she could barely stand, then continued, “I tried pushing him, but he wouldn’t wake up. When I pushed a little harder, he rolled across the bed a few times and nearly tumbled off. Luckily, I caught him—otherwise, he would’ve fallen face-first to the ground.”
Xuyu was stunned, and immediately stopped laughing. She straightened up, her expression changed, and she pounded hard on his chest with loud thuds: “Pei Xiaoyuan! Just because you couldn’t sleep, you used Xiao Hu’er to amuse yourself? If he’d gotten hurt, I wouldn’t have let you off!”
He took her blows without dodging, laughing heartily. It was rare to see him so full of joy—his laughter startled a red-headed magpie sleeping in a nearby clump of reeds. Under the lantern light, the bird hurriedly flapped out of the grass and flew across the river.
Xuyu shot him a glare. Thinking of their son, her heart suddenly itched to return home. She ignored him and said, “I want to go back!”
She withdrew her hand, turned around and started to leave, but he grabbed her hand from behind.
“Don’t go!” He caught up and naturally wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“I played with him all day, and he won’t wake up even if there’s thunder tonight. Besides, Amu is with him!”
Xuyu remained unmoved. Suddenly, she felt his lips brush against her ear, and a whispered voice followed: “You only think of him, but won’t spare a thought for me? Why don’t you ask why I couldn’t sleep?”
His breath tickled her ear, sending a faint shiver through her heart. She couldn’t help but stop in her tracks.
“Why?” she turned her face slightly, responding as if it were nothing.
“Because when you’re not there, I just can’t fall asleep.”
The person behind her said slowly.
“I don’t believe it.”
Xuyu still said this, but her body became extremely honest. She leaned obediently against the chest of the man behind her, letting him hold her shoulders and turn her around to face him.
“It’s true. During the time you were in seclusion, every night, after Xiao Hu’er fell asleep, I would come out and watch you through the window outside the Zhenguo Tower for a while. After watching you, I would go back.
“Hao’er, I miss you so much.” He stared at her and said slowly.
She was silent for a moment, then suddenly, she put her arms around his neck and kissed his chin.
He laughed and hugged her. They stood on the shore for a while, hugging each other quietly.
“Did you bring me here on purpose tonight?” She asked with her face leaning against his chest and closed her eyes.
He didn’t answer at first, but after a while, he suddenly raised his arm, pointed in a direction and said, “Look!”
Xuyu opened her eyes, raised her head, and looked in the direction he pointed.
Under the deep blue night sky, a black dot slowly appeared. At first, Xuyu couldn’t see what it was, but gradually, the black dot came closer and got bigger.
On both sides of the Wei River, the lights illuminate a flying falcon.
“Green Falcon!” She finally recognized it. It was the white-headed green falcon.
“How come it is here?” she was pleasantly surprised.
The green falcon flew closer and closer, and finally, it hovered in the sky above the two people’s heads.
“Huh!”
She looked up and found that the falcon seemed to have something on one of its claws. “What is it holding?” she shouted excitedly.
Pei Xiaoyuan smiled without saying anything, raising one arm gracefully.
The green falcon let out a clear call, gliding over the river’s surface at a perfect angle, diving down, and landing steadily on his arm.
There was a brocade box tied to the falcon’s claws, wrapped with three strands of five-colored threads. Pei Xiaoyuan untied it, gently touched the falcon, and then let it go.
With another clear call, it flapped its wings and flew away.
As Xuyu stared in amazement, Pei Xiaoyuan handed the brocade box to her and said with a smile, “Open it.”
At first, Xuyu didn’t move. She simply looked at him, and he said nothing in return—only gazed at her with a quiet smile. She bit her lip. At last, she lifted her hand and untied the five-colored thread, slowly opening the brocade box.
Resting quietly against a backdrop of solemn yet radiant scarlet silk was a hairpin. Its tip was adorned with countless golden threads, fine as silkworm silk, woven into a cluster of golden stars. As her hand moved ever so slightly, the stars quivered with it, shimmering with faint, flickering light.
The wire-twisting technique used at the tip of the pin was rare—and somehow, uncannily familiar to her.
She looked at it for a while, and suddenly, she remembered. Her heart skipped a beat, and she raised her head to look at him.
“Hao’er, do you remember now?” Pei Xiaoyuan said.
“When I first saw you in Ganliang, you were wearing a hairpin that my mother had worn when she first got married. When you walked, the butterfly on the hairpin seemed to be flying. It was a gift from my father.
“During the days you were in seclusion, besides accompanying our Xiao Hu’er, I also did one other thing.
“The craftsman in the West Market who made that hairpin for my father had already passed away. His son was still around—he inherited the trade and was a silversmith too. But he’s old now, his eyesight failing, no longer able to work, and he couldn’t compete with the foreign merchants who peddle exotic gems from the Western Regions. He moved out of the Western Market and no longer keeps a forge. I found him and told him that I was the second son of the Pei family who lived in the south of the city. I said I wished to gift a piece of jewelry to the woman I love, in the hope she would look kindly on me and accept my proposal. But she has high standards, and the ordinary five-colored gems hold no appeal to her. He was moved by my sincerity and, as an exception, took me on as his apprentice. I spent seven days forging this hairpin.”
His eyes fell on the scar on her forehead.
“I heard that when you were little, they called you ‘‘—the little noble girl famed throughout Chang’an. It’s laughable to think that back then, I was still ignorant of such things. Every day, I was either buried in my books or practicing archery and swordplay, thinking of nothing but how to grow up and become a great hero—one who would win battles and bring peace to the world…”
He probably thought his childhood thoughts were amusing, shook his head and continued, “Thus, even though we both lived in Chang’an, I actually didn’t know what you look like. You must have been very lovely back then.”
The smile in his eyes grew even deeper.
“Therefore, I made this hairpin according to your former name, and gave it to you, to fulfil a wish of mine.”
Xuyu never dreamed that he would do such a thing.
She stared intently at the hairpin in the box. The tips of the pin sparkle like a swarm of stars, shining briliantly, extremely beautiful.
“Hao’er,” he continued.
“I still owe you one thing.”
He stopped.
She raised her eyes and met his gaze. In his deep-set eyes, which usually revealed little emotion, there was a sparkling brightness at this moment, making him look, in an instant, look a young boy.
“Hao’er, I’ve never properly proposed to you before. The first engagement was arranged by my uncle and your grandfather. The second time, I wronged you.
“A virtuous lady is hard to come by, especially one like you. It ought to be a man who seeks her hand. Back then, it was here that you took back what had already been given to me. This time when I came back, I’ve been thinking that when I find the opportunity, I will definitely comeback to this place and personallu ask for your hand in marriage, to make up for what I once owed you, so that you can truly become my wife again.
“I didn’t expect that tonight would be my best chance.”
Xuyu suddenly felt that what her grandfather said to tease her tonight was absolutely correct.
It was unknown when it started, but she liked to cry. Her eyes were always filled with tears easily.
With tears in her eye, she saw him staring at her. He then took a step back, raised his arms to his chest, bowed to her solemnly, and said:
“My name is Xiaoyuan. My ancestors are from the Pei family in Hedong. I am the second child. My courtesy name is Junyan. I have already reached adulthood. I know that the Li family has a daughter, called Hao’er, whose spirit is as refined as jade, whose heart is pure as ice and flowers—I have long admired her deeply, yearning for her day and night.”
In the deep spring, the moon was bright, and thousands of lanterns illuminated the night.
He raised his arm and pointed to the Wei River, which was flowing day and night without stopping.
“Let this river bear witness: I, Xiao Yuan, now vow to grow old together with you. I ask you to be my beloved wife, to share with me this bond of marriage. These words once spoken, I shall never forget them. Even if one day, and the Big Dipper turns south, my heart will never change and will never waver!”
His words were neither hurried nor slow, yet calm and powerful. Every word, along with the sound of the Wei River beside him, reached Xuyu’s ears.
Hot tears welled up in her eyes, almost uncontrollably.
“Hao’er, are you willing to be my, Pei Xiaoyuan’s, wife?” He asked, his eyes fixed on her face.
When she saw the three cords of five-colored silk wrapped around the brocade box, a faint suspicion had already stirred in her heart. This was the knotting method customarily used for binding marriage contracts between men and women—its symbolism drawn from the “three lives and five blessings.”
She sniffed lightly and asked him to put on the hairpin he gave her. As he gazed at her, she suddenly threw herself into his arms and held him tightly. He gently tilted her chin up and lowered his head, kissing away her tears one by one. But just as he was about to kiss her lips, she suddenly turned her face away, dodging his kiss. Her voice choked with emotion, she murmured: “My dear, there’s something in my heart I must say. Since your return, no matter how close we have become… I have not dared to ask too much. Why did you change your heart? Why are you suddenly so good to me? Is it because of the siege at Dache city, that you have learned to embrace life after facing death…”
She stopped.
He also fell silent.
She waited for a moment, then suddenly regretted it. She quickly grabbed his hand and said with a smile, “Forget it, just pretend I didn’t ask. I’m already very happy tonight, truly!”
He shook his head, took off his coat, spread it on a flat stone on the shore, and gently pressed her to sit down.
She sat down as she was told, placed her hands on her knees, and quietly looked at his shadow standing beside her.
The night wind blew across the river, sweeping the lanterns. In the swaying lights, he stood facing the north bank of the Wei River and looked ahead. Beyond there, far away, was Hexi, and Beiyuan.
“Hao’er,” he suddenly said.
“After I learned the truth of the Battle of Beiyuan, the root of all my pain came from a single realization—that I could no longer love you. Even though I knew you were innocent, to continue loving you would have felt like a betrayal—to my father, and to the sense of righteousness I believed in. And yet… you were just so lovable.”
He turned around and knelt properly on the grassy ground before her, sitting upright, his face tilted slightly upward as he gazed intently at her.
“You were the one I fell for at first sight. The more I came to know you, the more I saw how truly lovable you are. At that time, I even thought—if only you were a little less lovable, perhaps my suffering would not be so great…”
He shook his head, a hint of mockery in his tone., “How foolish I am to deceive myself!
“It is indeed as you thought. On that night of the siege, I let go of many things that I could not understand before. In the last moment before leaving the city, what I thought most was not the upcoming battle, but you, Hao’er. You are also the one I can’t let go of the most in my heart. I asked myself, if my father and mother, watching from the heavens, knew that I still longed for you, that I couldn’t forget you—would they be disappointed in me?
“And then I asked, if I were to die then and there, and in the future, whenever you thought of me, the only memory left would be the pain I caused you—could I truly say I have no regrets? That’s why I left a letter for you on the fish talisman. Hao’er, I’m selfish like that. Even in death, I still hoped you would remember… that I will always miss you…”
Tears rolled down from Xuyu’s eyes one by one.
She stretched out her arms, hooked them around the neck of the man who was still kneeling at her feet, and put her forehead against his, choking slightly.
“But after you came back, why didn’t you come to the city to look for me right away? I thought… I thought you regretted it again because of what my father had done before…”
“I’m not regretting it. I was lucky enough to survive. Just as you said, I learned to embrace life after facing death. As soon as the war was over, I couldn’t wait to come back. I wanted to let you know that I was not the same person I used to be. But that night when I came back, I suddenly became panicked. You are a princess, so noble, and I was worried that you would not forgive me. If that were the case…”
“What will you do then?” she asked.
“I will forever be your knife, protecting you and Xiao Hu’er.” He said in a low voice.
She was silent for a moment, then cupped his handsome face, planting frantic kisses as she gasped between them: “Didn’t you ask me—when exactly did I begin to like you? I don’t even know myself. I only know that it started a long time ago. Maybe it was when I heard you came all the way to Luzhou just to find me… or when I fell into the lake, and you feared for my life, searching day and night without rest. Ever since I met you, there have been so many, many moments—at some point, without realizing it, my heart surrendered to you.
“I have a secret that even my father doesn’t know. Back in Cangshan, when I forced you to become my prince consort, on our wedding night, I told you I did it for the court, for my father—that I was fulfilling a princess’s duty. That was true… but it wasn’t the whole truth.”
Her voice grew softer as they pressed closer, cheek to cheek, breath to breath, ” Even then, deep down in my heart, I held a hidden hope. I hoped nothing else would happen—that if the world could just stop for a while… then I could truly have you, as my beloved.”
Her words disappeared into a long, intense kiss.
Qingtou, who had just returned to Chang’an three days ago, suddenly roused from his sleep tonight by an urgent command from his master. He scrambled up at once to carry out the task and, after finally reaching the designated location and fulfilling his important duty, let out a long sigh of relief. Then, crouching in a shadowy spot where the princess couldn’t see him, he turned his back on the couple and tried his best to remain still, eyes on his nose, nose on his heart—doing everything he could to stay unnoticed. But after a long while, he couldn’t resist anymore. He stole a glance over his shoulder, and from afar, saw that his master had already summoned Jinwuzhui. The two—master and princess—were now riding together on the same horse. And they had completely forgotten about him, heading back to the city on their own.
“Master! Princess! Wait for me!”
Qingtou jumped up, rushed out, shouting, and chased after them.