Chapter 77: Maybe We’ll Just Keep Muddling Through…

Chapter 77: Maybe We'll Just Keep Muddling Through…

Before midday, Xia Fu reached Xiangshan Temple. The sky had turned overcast with a layer of white clouds, making it unclear whether it would rain or not.

The Mahavira Hall was situated halfway up the mountain. From the mountain gate, the steps looked daunting as they stretched layer upon layer into the distance. Dressed in a plain skirt, Xia Fu stood at the foot of the mountain gate. It was from the cliff at the rear of Xiangshan Temple that she had jumped all those years ago. Returning here felt like another lifetime.

It was still the same majestic 108 steps, and the Mahavira Hall remained towering, though weathered by time and now covered in mottled patches of moss. Of course, there were changes too. For instance, covered corridors had been built on either side to shelter from the rain, and many green plants had been added, neatly trimmed, making the place look more refined. For someone like Xia Fu, returning to this familiar place, it was the old buildings bearing traces of time that resonated more with her.

Having died once, she realized that nothing in this world mattered more than life and death.

Staying alive was the most important thing.

Xia Fu climbed the steps, taking a full half-hour to reach the Mahavira Hall. The palace guards and the elderly maid went ahead to prepare everything. A welcoming monk came out and ushered her into a private Buddha room, acknowledging her noble status. The abbot personally recited scriptures and chanted prayers for her, helping her request a safety charm.

Xia Fu also donated some funds for incense and oil offerings. By the time everything was done, it was nearly noon. The elderly maid prepared vegetarian meals for her, and after finishing the meal, asked if she was ready to head back to the city.

Xia Fu suddenly thought of the cliff and felt a sudden desire.

“I want to take a look at the rear mountain.”

The rear of Xiangshan Temple was a dense forest. To the southeast, where a long mountain ridge ran, climbing up the ridge led to a high slope. The area was now some distance from the temple, and the landscape had changed significantly after seventeen or eighteen years.

When she reached the slope, Xia Fu was surprised to find the once grassy hill enclosed, with a three-story viewing pavilion built on it. The high surrounding walls blocked the view of the cliff. A sweeping monk saw Xia Fu gazing toward the cliff and smiled.

“Madam, if you wish to see the view below, you can go upstairs.”

Xia Fu bowed slightly. “Master, when was this viewing pavilion built?” It looked like it had some age.

The sweeping monk glanced at the eaves, where the red paint was peeling from years of disrepair. “It must be at least fifteen years.”

Xia Fu’s heart stirred. “Do you know who built it?”

The sweeping monk replied truthfully. “A Mr. Cheng.”

That would be Cheng Mingyu.

“Many years ago, it was said that someone jumped off the cliff here. It seemed to be this Mr. Cheng’s wife. He searched the mountains in the rain for a full five months straight, but couldn’t find his late wife. He built this pavilion to honor her memory.”

Five months of searching for her?

An An had only told her it was five days…

Clearly, Cheng Mingyu hadn't told his daughter the truth.

Xia Fu was taken aback.

At the word “wife,” she looked slightly embarrassed.

The sweeping monk, upon saying this, leaned on his broom with a sneer of contempt.

“But in my opinion, this Mr. Cheng must have done something guilty. Otherwise, how could he have driven his wife to jump off the cliff? She’s dead, so what’s the use of building a pavilion? It’s just to comfort himself, pretending to be deeply affectionate. Hmph, I’ve seen many such heartless men…”

Xia Fu blushed, feeling embarrassed on Cheng Mingyu’s behalf. “Master, one must not generalize. Perhaps this Mr. Cheng had no relation to the woman who jumped off the cliff. They might not even be… husband and wife…” Xia Fu explained awkwardly.

The sweeping monk wasn’t convinced. “If not husband and wife, then it’s even worse. Every year, on the third day of the third lunar month, he sits here for a whole night, playing the qin and chanting. If they aren’t a couple, then it must be an affair?”

Xia Fu, realizing the explanation was making things worse, coughed lightly. “Master, it’s not good to gossip about others behind their back.”

The sweeping monk, startled, chuckled. “You’re right. Being paid to work, it’s wrong of me to speak ill of the donor. I made a mistake and was assigned here by the abbot. This Mr. Cheng still sends a monthly donation to the temple. Since we receive the Cheng family’s silver, it’s not right for us to speak ill of them.”

He slowly and leisurely swept the pile of dead leaves towards the corner of the wall.

"I've come all this way, I might as well take a look," she thought.

Xia Fu drank some tea downstairs for a bit, then, gazing at the attic, said, "You all stay here, I'll go up alone."

The guards, feeling uneasy, went upstairs to check first. After confirming there was no one, they asked Xia Fu to come up.

Upon reaching this point, Xia Fu felt a bit uneasy for some reason. She climbed the stairs, one step at a time, with the immense mountain wind and endless cool breeze surrounding her. On the second floor, standing by the railing, she could clearly see that vast, untamed mountain forest from years ago. The branches were spread out like a green carpet, so high and far away. Now, just a glance made her legs turn weak. How had she mustered the courage to jump back then?

It seemed she had really been muddled back then.

That being said, if she hadn't jumped off the cliff back then, what would have happened when Cheng Mingyou returned to the capital?

By then, it would probably have been a mess of drama, with embarrassment all around, and life would have gotten harder and harder.

Would Cheng Mingyu have taken her and An An back to the main branch?

Xia Fu didn't dare to think further.

This feeling of putting all her hopes on a man was truly unpleasant.

Now, although she had endured much hardship, at least she had experienced a rebirth, like a phoenix, and gained freedom.

She continued up to the third floor.

Here, the view was even more expansive, without railings, only an overhanging pavilion. The pavilion was about two zhang square (around 6.6 meters), with a qin table and a low, ancient Chinese furniture piece placed in the center.

On the qin table lay a guqin. Xia Fu, who was knowledgeable about guqin, recognized that it was the Lüwei.

It was an extremely famous ancient guqin. Xia Fu had never seen an actual Lüwei before. If this building was built by Cheng Mingyu, then this ancient guqin must be the genuine Lüwei.

Rare to see, Xia Fu wanted to test its feel.

She then moved to the back of the qin table, sat down, and casually plucked a string. She immediately realized that this guqin had a clearer and more resonant sound compared to her replica. The sound was clear yet deep, captivating upon hearing. Xia Fu continued to play, her hands moving back and forth like waves, the music surging like waves. Xia Fu found it extremely fascinating.

After finding the right touch, Xia Fu began to play her favorite piece, "West River Moon." After the opening, she lifted her eyes and suddenly saw the cliff from years ago. A hazy yet incredibly clear image flashed in her mind.

The high cliff was steep and towering, like a giant deep pit at her feet, with layers of green waves crawling below, and no end in sight. It was something that filled one with immense fear, yet had a fatal attraction. It was as if one leap down would make a person float up, free from all troubles.

Xia Fu's breathing suddenly became rapid, her heart pounded, and goosebumps rose all over her body. Her right hand started to tremble, and the strings under her fingers moved faster and faster, too fast for her to control. Just then, a long, slender arm reached over, covering her trembling right hand. He took her right hand and gently plucked the strings, immediately slowing down the previously rapid melody into a calm and soothing one.

Xia Fu's racing heart felt as if it was comforted by a cool breeze, the fire slowly subsiding. Her left hand's rhythm was also slowed down by him, and as if bewitched, it fell into sync with his melody.

Xia Fu turned her head and saw Cheng Mingyu's cold, pale profile. His bone structure was clear and handsome, his skin noble, a face that would always be pleasing to the eye no matter when seen. In those past years, he had sat by her side, teaching her to play the guqin.

Nineteen years had passed. Time had worn away the layer of cold sharpness in his features, adding a touch of maturity and openness to his presence.

Xia Fu couldn't deny that seeing him still made her heart flutter.

"How did the family head come here?"

"It's raining. I came to fetch you."

With the same tone as back then, there was a sense of naturalness in his voice.

Xia Fu didn't like his naturalness. "I have already informed the prince. The prince will come to fetch me."

"He can't come anymore."

In response to those words, Cheng Mingyu turned his gaze, meeting her eyes.

As before, he was gentle but in control.

Clearly, no obvious emotion was in his eyes, but his focus made it seem as though she was the only one in his sight.

Xia Fu was angry at herself for still falling for his tricks after all these years.

His mere "can't come" left no doubt that he had thrown some obstacles in the Yunnan King's way.

Xia Fu glared at him in anger.

Cheng Mingyu, seeing Xia Fu’s disgruntled expression, found it amusing. His long, fair fingers plucked a string heavily, as if plucked at her heart. Her body trembled in response. Defiant, she brushed his hand away and began to play the qin rapidly with both hands.

Xia Fu’s melody lacked Cheng Mingyu’s depth and magnanimity, but added a touch of graceful and light, a different style of the West River Moon.

“Family head, how do you find my skill with the qin now?”

Cheng Mingyu truthfully replied, “Greatly improved.”

Xia Fu looked again at the cliff below. Her heart calmed and she became more serene. She said with a smile,

“Yes, I also feel I’m playing better and better. The Yunnan King loves to listen to it.”

Cheng Mingyu’s wrist slid down from the qin strings, and he became solemn and silent.

With his silence, Xia Fu felt more at ease and played the qin more joyfully.

At that moment, rain began to fall, drifting onto her cheeks. Fearing it might damage the strings, Xia Fu quickly stood up with the qin in her arms, retreating to the inner room.

Cheng Mingyu followed her in.

Xia Fu scanned the room. It wasn’t large, containing a simple long couch, a table, and a chair, along with a long narrow table. Xia Fu placed the green instrument on the narrow table and carefully wiped the strings with a pristine white handkerchief, meticulously removing the rain droplets.

Watching from the side, Cheng Mingyu said, “Do you like this qin? If you do, it’s yours.”

Without looking up, Xia Fu refused, “I already have a replica qin, which the Yunnan King found for me. I like it very much because,” she lifted her eyes, clear and gentle, “even if it gets damaged, it won’t break my heart.”

Finishing her words, she smiled slightly, revealing a small dimple, just like Cheng Yian’s.

Cheng Mingyu understood her meaning. With the Yunnan King, she was free and at ease.

“If you don’t like this particular qin, I can make you a replica, a one-to-one copy. I’ll make it myself,” he paused for emphasis, “and make a new one if it breaks.”

Xia Fu’s face turned red. She coughed lightly, turning her back and looking out the window. “Well, before the heavy rain falls, I should go down the mountain...”

Finishing her words, she attempted to walk past him.

Cheng Mingyu raised his arm to stop her.

Xia Fu looked at the arm in front of her, her gaze turning serious as she looked at Cheng Mingyu.

“Family head, what do you mean by this persistence? I’ve already made it clear that I won’t return to the Cheng family with you.”

Cheng Mingyu’s eyes swept over her.

“Xia Fu, have you ever thought about giving An An a home?”

Xia Fu’s thoughts wavered. How could she not want that? Unfortunately, this tangled and controversial relationship had been fraught with disputes from the start. Even if Cheng Mingyou hadn’t come back, relying on the family records from that year, she could have returned to the main branch with An An, rightfully so. But now that Cheng Mingyou had returned, the Cheng family’s gossip could drown her. Even if Cheng Mingyu had the means to suppress it, there were still whispers behind their backs.

She "died," and things became different. At least in the eyes of others, An An remained a pitiful child. Because of this sympathy and the protection of the Cheng family's elder matriarch, no one would say anything bad about her.

Tears welled up in Xia Fu's eyes. "I don't want to be the subject of gossip, and I don't want An An to be talked about either."

Cheng Mingyu had anticipated all of this and took a step forward, closing in on her. "I'll arrange a new identity for you. Not many of the clan elders from that time are still around. They feel compassion for us, so how could they gossip? Fu Er, trust me, I'll handle everything perfectly."

"I hope An An can return to her maternal family and see her father and mother together. When she has children, we'll enjoy our grandchildren together."

Xia Fu was forced back by Cheng Mingyu until her legs touched the edge of the long couch. She stumbled slightly, almost losing her balance.

Cheng Mingyu supported her, holding onto her slender wrist without letting go.

Thinking of the bustling clan members of the Cheng family, Xia Fu felt a headache coming on. She had witnessed the grandeur of the Cheng family's midwinter feast once before. From behind a bead curtain, she had caught a distant glimpse of Cheng Mingyu. Of course, she hadn't seen him clearly, only his knee-length garment hanging below his knees, majestic and untouchable. The elder matriarch, surrounded by others, handled all the troublesome clan affairs with ease, along with the human connections...

To be his wife meant a mountain of responsibilities.

"An An is fine now. She's said that as long as we're doing well, she doesn't care about anything else. Besides, she's married and has her own family. Cheng Mingyu, she's past the time when she needed us."

A thorn seemed to pierce Cheng Mingyu's eyes, causing him pain. He conceded, "Then at least don't appear in front of others. I just want a marriage certificate to register An An under your name."

Xia Fu cried, "You can register her under my name now. Isn't Xia Fu dead? You can place my tablet in the Cheng family ancestral hall."

She took a step back.

She was alive and well, yet he was setting up a tablet for her—wasn't that a curse?

Cheng Mingyu's face stiffened, his eyes turning a deep red. Looking at the impeccable Xia Fu, he suddenly spoke coldly, "I'm telling you plainly, the Yunnan King will leave the capital soon, and the emperor has arranged a marriage for Mu Xun. From today, he is the nephew-in-law of Empress Chen. From now on, he has a reliable support. You don't need to worry about the Yunnan King's palace anymore."

Upon hearing that Mu Xun had been betrothed to Empress Chen's family, Xia Fu visibly relaxed. This lightened her burden considerably, and Mu Xun had a strong backing.

"Thank you for planning on his behalf."

Cheng Mingyu replied expressionlessly, "Xia Fu, I cannot let go, and I will not let go."

Xia Fu's throat tightened. The man in front of her was like a solid wall, leaving her at a loss.

He refused to let go, and she still had lingering feelings. An idea took shape in her mind.

Xia Fu blurted out, "Why don't we just continue like this?"

Seeing the cliff at that moment, she suddenly realized something.

Having survived with difficulty, she should live each day as she pleased from now on.

The long night stretched ahead, and the remaining decades of life loomed. If it had to be someone, it might as well be Cheng Mingyu.

If only he agreed.

Cheng Mingyu looked at Xia Fu, who had suddenly realized, and said with a grim expression, "What if I don't agree?"

Xia Fu blinked. "Then I can only seek out the Yunnan King..."

Before she could finish her sentence, that tall figure leaned over her, a warm softness covering her red lips. Xia Fu's mind went blank. His force wasn't gentle at all. His large hand cupped her waist, almost lifting her to press against his chest. With no support to borrow, she instinctively reached behind her with both hands to steady herself against the wall, but the bed was too wide, and she missed, her body tilting backward.

He followed, their figures overlapping as they fell onto the bed. Just as she was about to drop, his arm exerted strength, supporting her back. His elbow seemed to hit the bed, and Xia Fu heard a slight hiss escape his lips.

Their lips met, the long-missed sensation causing both to shudder violently.

The long-awaited storm finally broke, and this pavilion seemed the only haven of tranquility amidst the tempest.

Darkness enveloped them.

They could not see each other's faces, only the entwined breaths that stirred their hearts.

This cramped space was much like the bed in Cheng Family Castle back then, with familiar scents and embraces. Back then, he had dragged her along, giving her countless moments of ecstasy. The body's memory surpassed reason, awakening first, and Xia Fu's waist softened unexpectedly.

She softened in an almost unbelievable way, soft like a fragrant stamen, irresistible to explore and indulge in.

Cheng Mingyu had no room for thought; his lips and tongue instinctively moved forward, prying open her teeth. The moment their wet tongues touched, it was a mix of long-separated excitement, drawing them together like magnets, entwining subconsciously.

This was the memory etched in their bones, this was the past they vowed never to forget.

They knew each other's bodies better than anyone else.

Her pale, slender fingers covered his neck, intertwining behind it.

Her shoulders were tightly hunched, as if trying to get even closer to him.

He effortlessly parted her knees, just as he did back then, finding the familiar and comfortable position they both knew.

Had they kissed before? No, the few times they had were during the peak of passion, when they instinctively collided and embraced, only to awkwardly pull apart afterward.

That was what Xia Fu regretted most when she woke up countless times at midnight, trapped on that once-loving bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Though everything was cleaned and a new set of pillows and sheets replaced the old ones, leaving no trace of him, his presence lingered everywhere. Every time she opened her eyes, she saw him either holding her and doing that thing or his fair fingers playing her like a lute.

Touched and intimate, the clear taste lingered on her lips, yet she had never truly possessed him deeply.

If they had shared a deep kiss, perhaps this regret wouldn't be so profound.

Even later, when sitting in a wheelchair and deliberately trying to forget that person, this regret still lingers.

Now, with the person in front of her and the tip of their lips drawing near, she instinctively and without hesitation met their kiss.

The sound of rain resembled the notes of a qin playing, echoing in Cheng Mingyu's ears. Who would know that every quiet late night, as he played the qin in his music room, her hazy, moist eyes and her soft, silky body would involuntarily surface in his mind?

Repeatedly, he reminded himself that he was a gentleman, the head of the Cheng family, and that honor was the cornerstone of his existence. He should not indulge in personal desires or lose himself in the citadel of lust. She was his cousin's wife. He was only providing the other party with a child. Even though they were separated by only a wall, knowing she was caressing her swollen belly and speaking to the child inside her, he restrained himself and forced himself to turn away.

This was a game with rules they had set for themselves, but in the moment of turning around, both souls fell into the trap.

Nineteen years had passed, and the gears of fate had once again turned to this moment.

Cheng Mingyu gave himself permission to seize the moment.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder split the sky.

Both were startled. When Xia Fu came to her senses and realized what she had done, her legs had already wrapped around his waist.

Xia Fu was extremely embarrassed, her face as red as blood.

"Fam... family head, we are still within the boundaries of Xiangshan Temple. It would be disrespectful to the Buddha to do this..."

Cheng Mingyu actually knew it was inappropriate, but the more she rejected him, the more he was driven. Should he let her go and wait for her to return and live a life with the Yunnan King?

No way.

His deep eyes surged with dark waves as he moved forward and whispered, "The arrow is on the string and has to be loosed."

Xia Fu was extremely frustrated, feeling as though his sharp gaze could pierce through her. She lowered her eyes and said helplessly,

"You've endured for so many years, surely you can endure not doing it just one more time..."

Cheng Mingyu was both amused and irritated.

"Xia Fu, you're not resisting, and since you care for me too, why not just agree to what I want?"

Xia Fu closed her eyes in despair, her arms resting on his shoulders, wanting to slip away yet unable to stop herself from clinging. She asked in a low voice,

"So, does that mean you're agreeing to what I suggested?"

Cheng Mingyu's thin lips pressed tightly together, neither agreeing nor refusing. This was his last option. If he could wear her down to gain her consent, that would be best. What was there to fear in enjoying himself? Last night, after presenting his strategy to the emperor, the emperor had graciously appointed him as the Chief Councilor. A dignified Chief Councilor keeping a mistress?

First, he couldn't bear to see Xia Fu wronged, and second, he couldn't gamble with the reputation of the Cheng family.

Like boiling a frog, patience would eventually wear her down.

Cheng Mingyu once again sealed her lips, occasionally rubbing against her lips.

Xia Fu, after so many years, could no longer withstand such provocation, her body shaking uncontrollably. On one hand, she was led into confusion, and on the other, her reason stood firm, like a fragile branch trying to hold on. She turned her face away, letting him kiss her cheek.

"Since we can't settle this today, how about another day? I've prayed for a protective charm for An An, and she's waiting for it. The child can't sleep peacefully at night. As her father, don't you care?"

Cheng Mingyu undid a thread of her clothing, holding her hands down on the bed.

"I brought a nanny over. Just now, that nanny has taken Ru Lan back to the Lu residence."

This cunning and experienced man.

Xia Fu gritted her teeth in frustration. A woman's sense of dignity was thin, especially in a sacred Buddhist place. She always felt that doing this would be a betrayal of the Buddha's blessings towards her.

"Family head..." Her mind was muddled, trying to find an excuse to stop him when suddenly his low voice reached her ears.

"Change the way you address me!"

Xia Fu actually liked calling him family head, but if he wanted a change, then so be it. At this moment, if coaxing him could help, then she would. Thus, she changed her address.

"Mingyu..."

With this single "Mingyu," Xia Fu felt her empty heart instantly fill up, and the world suddenly became quiet. She gasped. No more struggle, no more fight...