Chapter 65

Chapter 65

"Perhaps it was my imperial lineage that made me too pampered and headstrong, until he could no longer bear it."

The rain intensified, drumming heavily on the courtyard's bluestone slabs, splashing white everywhere. Even the trees in the corner were obscured, only the wind and rain, laden with fallen leaves, sweeping onto the threshold.

A leaf landed on NianJia’s skirt. She picked it up and cast it back into the storm.

Du Lingjing looked up as NianJia asked, "Jing, do you remember how I always wanted to make him a silver-white brocade robe with my own hands?"

The wind stirred distant memories, rustling the loose strands of hair at Du Lingjing’s temples.

She remembered.

When Wei Jue served in the palace, he yearned to study. He most admired scholars like her father—men who had truly risen through the imperial examinations, devoted to learning, governance, and cultivating talent for the nation.

But the Wei family was a military household, and Wei Jue, as an imperial relative, had passed the age for the scholarly path by the time he came of age.

"But I saw no reason why not," NianJia murmured. "Why couldn't imperial kin produce refined scholars? If he became my consort, I’d let him study. I’d even ask Prince Yu's household steward to find him a scholarly post. It wasn’t impossible."

"That’s what I thought. I imagined my consort would be different—a scholar, someone who ought to wear light-colored robes, dignified and refined."

With that idea, NianJia truly set out to make him a perfectly fitted silver-white robe herself.

"But my needlework was terrible. I refused to let anyone else help, and I couldn’t even get the measurements right. Worse, he was still growing rapidly at the time..."

The storm lashed against the doors and windows.

Du Lingjing recalled receiving letters from NianJia after returning to Qingzhou with her father.

In every letter, NianJia mentioned Wei Jue and that impossibly difficult silver robe she was making for him.

Once, Du Lingjing had sat beneath the bamboo grove near Mian Tower, unfolding a letter from NianJia that immediately contained her frustrated complaints.

She had written that after much effort, her tailoring skills had finally improved, and she was racing to finish the robe—only to meet Wei Jue again after two months and barely recognize him. He had grown taller again, and the nearly finished robe no longer fit.

In her fury, NianJia swore in the letter that she was giving up—it was pure torment.

At the time, Du Lingjing had also thought NianJia would abandon the project. Needlework had never been the princess's strong suit.

Now, Du Lingjing glanced at her and heard her chuckle softly.

"Truthfully, I didn’t give up. When the robe couldn’t be altered anymore, I simply bought new cloth and began again."

She said the process dragged on, the robe still unfinished as they both came of marriageable age.

By then, the previous emperor had passed, and the new emperor had taken the throne. NianJia had left the palace and returned to Prince Yu's Mansion, while Wei Jue had been elevated as the emperor’s cousin.

Once, NianJia had been the princess, and he merely a minor branch of the Wei clan from Earl Zhongqing’s line.

"But my mother saw how much I adored him, and since I refused to consider anyone else, she never interfered."

Yet after the new emperor took the throne, Wei Jue’s father became the imperial uncle. Their branch separated from Earl Zhongqing’s house and was granted the title of Count of Xin Yun. Wei Jue’s father became the count and was swiftly promoted to Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, while Wei Jue became the heir of Count of Xin Yun—no longer the obscure young man he once was.

"Then matchmakers came flocking—from civil officials, military officers, even the imperial clan. They said Prince Yu's Mansion was merely an empty title, that I was a fatherless girl beneath him."

"Those words infuriated me. In my rage, I threw out the silver robe I had nearly finished for him."

Somehow, Wei Jue retrieved the discarded robe and rushed to Prince Yu's Mansion that very night, pounding urgently at the gates.

NianJia refused to see him, so he waited outside. By midnight, rain began to fall. As the downpour worsened and he still refused to leave, NianJia finally grabbed an umbrella and hurried out.

"What are you still doing here? Since I’m not good enough for you, why don’t you just leave?"

She snapped, but Wei Jue only smiled helplessly.

"When have you ever been unworthy of me? It’s always been the other way around."

The night rain had drenched him completely, his hair clinging wetly to his brow, water dripping from his sleeves.

But NianJia held firm. "But you’ve never sent anyone to propose."

Wei Jue fell silent at that.

Seeing his lack of response, NianJia grew even angrier and turned to leave.

But he caught her hand.

"That’s not it."

He said his unexpected position as heir of Count of Xin Yun was hollow.

"This title means nothing—I have no real standing. How could I come to your mansion to propose?"

He confessed he disliked his post in the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Though the scholarly path was closed to him, he hoped to distinguish himself in the army.

"Like Cousin Lu Shenru and Elder Brother Wei Cong."

He meant Lu Shenru and Wei Cong.

"To gain real achievements on the battlefield, to charge across battlefields, to fulfill my ambitions—to prove myself as a man."

NianJia stood thunderstruck. This was the first time she had heard him speak like this.

So he'd abandoned scholarly ambitions. So he, too, wanted to go to the northwest and earn glory...

"But I don’t know," he said, lifting his gaze, his lashes wet with rain. "I don’t know if you, Yuan Yuan, would be willing to leave the capital with me—to endure the frontier's harsh winds."

He called her Yuan Yuan, her childhood name, the one left to her by her late father, Prince Yu, whom she had never met.

The storm grew fiercer, veiling the courtyard in gloom, like nightfall.

Du Lingjing caught her breath.

Years later, NianJia did go to the northwest—but not with Wei Jue. Instead, she went with Wei Cong...

After a pause, NianJia continued, saying that after hearing his explanation that night, her anger had cooled.

She told him she would consider going to the northwest, but she would also need to return to the capital to care for her mother.

But the silver robe she had thrown away was ruined. After finally fitting him once, it could no longer be worn.

Wei Jue assured her it was of no consequence—he'd have the seamstresses repair it and wear it for her another day.

"Won't you forgive me?"

Of course, NianJia wasn’t angry anymore. But she wouldn't let him wear the damaged robe. "You’re not allowed to grow any taller! I’ll make you a new one!"

Chuckling, he acquiesced. "I won’t grow another inch. Take your time."

NianJia truly loved seeing him in silver-white, standing under the pure moonlight like an immortal descending from a painting, flawless and ethereal.

Her consort was naturally more handsome and refined than anyone else’s—

But Wei Jue never got the chance to go to the northwest. His father, Imperial Uncle Wei, suddenly passed away, and he inherited the title of Count Xinyun, taking on the responsibilities of the entire Xinyun household and fully immersing himself in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Perhaps affected by the guard's cold aura, he grew busier and more silent.

NianJia began to see less and less of him—gone for a month, then two, then three, then five.

Though they were both in the capital, it was as if he had vanished into thin air.

"I assumed this was just how the Embroidered Uniform Guard was, and I tried not to take it to heart."

At this point, NianJia’s gaze faltered.

She spoke again, "Until one day, I realized he had clearly seen my carriage but pretended not to, letting us pass each other by."

That day, NianJia was both shocked and furious, utterly baffled by Wei Jue’s attitude. She immediately had him stopped and demanded an explanation.

Wei Jue was silent for a moment before replying coolly, "I didn’t see your carriage, my lady."

Then he added, "I have matters in the palace. I must go."

Without another word, he spurred his horse and left.

"I was so upset—I went home and cried in anger. The Imperial Dowager Consort and my mother both said dragging things out like this wasn’t good, that we should formalize our engagement soon."

Wei Jue’s mourning period for his father was nearly over, so arranging the betrothal now was acceptable.

Princess Yu, distressed for her daughter, was displeased with this "son-in-law’s" attitude, but Dowager Consort Jiang pointed out that the Wei family was no longer what it once was—Wei Jue was now the Count Xinyun, and in the future, he might even take over his father’s duties and rise to the position of Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

She added that since NianJia cared for him so deeply and couldn’t let go, the Prince Yu household should take the initiative and be more accommodating.

"I’d never humbled myself before him—he was always the one coaxing me. But hearing my grandmother say this, I wondered if my temper had been too much, pushing him away."

"I agreed to yield, so my mother invited Lady Protector to Hongluo Monastery and even brought along the silver robe I’d made for him."

The Prince Yu household taking the initiative pleased Lady Protector greatly.

NianJia didn’t feel particularly close to Lady Protector, but when the two families began discussing the betrothal, Lady Protector agreed at once. She even apologized to Princess Yu for Wei Jue’s rudeness, promising to take the silver robe back and "have Wei Jue wear it tomorrow to personally apologize to the young mistress."

After all, NianJia was a noblewoman, and the two families were well-matched. Lady Protector had no objections to the marriage.

She hoped that once the two reconciled, they could formally discuss the betrothal.

But after the silver robe was sent, "I waited for him from before daybreak the next day, expecting him to come and talk to me properly. But I waited until sunset, until nightfall, and still, there was no trace of him."

All night long, the young lady tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

She summoned all her patience, resolving to wait three more days.

But from dawn till dusk, she waited three full days, and he never came.

On the fourth day, her patience ran out. She found out he was at the Northern Commissioner’s office of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and went to confront him.

While others avoided the Embroidered Uniform Guard, she marched straight in.

"What is the meaning of this?! Don’t tell me you couldn’t take time to put on the robe and speak to me!"

A robe she had painstakingly sewn with her own hands over four or five years.

All she wanted was for him to call her *Yuan Yuan* and have a proper word with her.

But he never used her childhood name again. Instead, he turned away and said, "This is no place for Your Ladyship."

Those icy words set NianJia’s temper aflame.

"Fine, Wei Jue! Then return my robe to me! If I ever stitch another thread for you, let all of Beijing look down on me!"

She had never spoken so harshly before. She thought such words might snap him back to his senses.

But his expression didn’t change. After a pause, he merely summoned an attendant in a low voice, "Fetch the lady’s robe."

The silver robe was right there in the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s office. For a moment, NianJia couldn’t comprehend his actions—until she saw the robe she had sewn for years laid before her.

He didn’t look at it. Didn’t touch it. Just ordered someone,

"Return the robe to the lady."

He truly gave back the robe she had made for him.

NianJia was stunned.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard carried a palpable gloom, a chill that made her eyes and nose burn.

As the sun set, leaving everything in shadows, she searched his face in disbelief.

"You really don’t want it?"

Her voice trembled as she asked.

Wei Jue closed his eyes in silence—a silent confirmation.

NianJia refused to shed a single weak tear in front of him, but she couldn’t hold back.

She wrenched the robe apart.

Tore it to pieces and ground it beneath her feet.

"Wei Jue, from now on, you take your path, and I’ll go mine. I, NianJia, will never acknowledge you again in this life!"

He was silent for a breath, then quietly replied with a single word.

"Fine."

***

Du Lingjing went still, listening as NianJia said,

"At the time, when I returned to the mansion, I still wondered if he would chase after me. That night, I was so distraught I locked myself in a closet, still hoping he might regret it, change his mind, and come rescue me—

"But he never came. He never came for me again."

He vanished from her life entirely.

Back then, they were both still in the capital, but when they crossed paths, it was as mere strangers—or perhaps, they never crossed paths again.

Du Lingjing stood transfixed, gazing at NianJia, dumbstruck.

When NianJia said that she had never spoken to Wei Jue again since then.

"Actually, Lady Protector came to the mansion once afterward, but I was still furious at the time and ordered the servants not to open the door, turning her away."

Lady Protector was the emperor's aunt by marriage—who in the capital would dare snub her?

Outside, the rain had unknowingly lessened. NianJia sighed softly.

"I was too childish back then, not even bothering with basic politeness. I must have angered Lady Protector and even dragged you into it."

Du Lingjing shook her head repeatedly.

Five or six years had passed since then. Seeing NianJia recount this old story with a faint expression, tinged with melancholy and distraction, yet no longer carrying the heartbreak of those days, she just laughed at herself.

"Maybe I was too pampered, always expecting others to coax me. He must’ve gotten tired of it long ago."

Fight after fight, he would always turn back to comfort her.

But after what she thought was just another ordinary quarrel, he never turned back again.

She was still waiting for him, but this time, it was final.

NianJia smiled. "Actually, it was right for him not to marry me. I’ve got a bad temper and no family standing. On paper, I’m a noble princess, but Prince Yu's Mansion is all show and no substance. I’m just that girl without a father..."

Du Lingjing’s eyes welled up as she leaned in to grasp NianJia’s hand.

"Don’t say that!"

NianJia chuckled softly, her own eyes slightly red as she looked at Du Lingjing.

"It’s just that you really care for me, and because the heir truly wishes to marry me. He probably doesn’t know me well either, and I’m ashamed to admit to him that I’m actually not much of a person."

"How could that be?" Du Lingjing said. "Neither I nor the heir ever thought for a moment that you were anything less than wonderful."

As for Wei Jue, Du Lingjing couldn’t understand.

She could only echo that sentiment. "Let bygones be bygones. You’re doing well now."

That evening, when the four of them dined together, NianJia slowly bounced back. Du Lingjing didn’t mention it again, sitting beside her and chatting idly.

*

But when she returned to her own room, recalling NianJia’s story about Wei Jue, she propped her arm and zoned out for a long time.

When Lu Shenru walked in and saw her not reading but staring blankly, he couldn’t help but approach.

"What’s wrong?" he asked gently.

Du Lingjing shook her head silently, but he noticed her slightly reddened eyes.

His expression darkened instantly.

The whole room tensed at his mood.

Du Lingjing vaguely sensed trouble and looked up, hearing his cold voice.

"Did NianJia bring up Jiang Zhuxiu?"

Du Lingjing’s thoughts raced—what did Third Brother have to do with this?

But she noticed his expression had shifted entirely.

Obviously, *he* was the one who mentioned it...

Furious, she shot him a glare. "No!"

She stood up to leave, and Lu Shenru realized his mistake.

He caught her arm, his demeanor softening at once. Seeing his wife's tense face, he lowered his head.

"This is about Wei Jue, isn’t it?"

Du Lingjing ignored him, turning her head away. His voice softened further. "I’ve heard rumors myself."

He explained it occurred in the fifth year of Yin You. At that time, he had just left the northwest for the capital. That year, the emperor appointed Wei Jue as the Northern Commissioner of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, clearly a stepping stone to groom him before taking the position of Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

"Wei Jue came out of the city to greet me. I could tell he was despondent and only then learned he had just had a falling-out with the princess."

He added a few more words for Du Lingjing, saying Wei Jue had once written to him, asking to secure a post in the northwestern army. "I was quite surprised—I hadn’t expected him to want to join the military. But not long after, the imperial uncle died, and it became impossible for him to go to the northwest."

Du Lingjing went quiet.

So Wei Jue had truly wanted to go to the northwest but couldn’t.

Had his feelings for NianJia truly cooled, as she claimed? Or had the Embroidered Uniform Guard changed his temperament? Or was there some other reason?

Du Lingjing felt the situation wasn’t entirely as NianJia had described. She couldn’t piece it together, but the man beside her sat down with her. Seeing the melancholy in her eyes, he said,

"The heavens decree all things. Logic doesn’t guarantee outcomes, yet even dripping water can pierce stone."

Du Lingjing turned to face him, helplessly.

If the first part referred to NianJia and Wei Jue, then who did the latter part concern?

Du Lingjing was certainly no hard, unyielding stone.

But when he saw her gaze, his gaze pinned hers, dark and unyielding.

"Human will *is* heaven’s will."

So he didn’t mind forcing things?

Du Lingjing turned away, only glancing at him from the corner of her eye. But he laughed, he took her hand in one of his while pouring her tea with the other.

He made amends for his remark.

Du Lingjing refused to accept it.

Just as he was about to say more, Chong Ping suddenly came looking for him.

He didn’t leave immediately, instead giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He mentioned he had some matters to attend to that evening and instructed her,

"Retire early, my lady."

Du Lingjing gave no reply. Sighing, he left.

Though he was gone, the room still held his scent. Du Lingjing drank the tea he had poured for her.

His temperament was indeed different from most—he didn’t wait for fate to intervene, but believed in bending fate to his will.

Just as when the Empress's Crown Prince passed away, leaving the Eastern Palace position vacant, and the civil officials mobilized support for Prince Yong, he immediately stepped forward without fear, standing behind the Noble Consort and Prince Hui, pushing for Prince Hui's succession.

But after all, the Noble Consort was not yet the Empress.

If Her Majesty the Empress endured long enough to outlive the Emperor, then the Noble Consort could never become Empress.

If the Noble Consort could not become Empress, Prince Hui could never be the rightful heir.

If the Emperor wished to bypass the two elder princes and appoint the young Prince Hui as Crown Prince, it would be even more difficult.

By then, wouldn’t all his schemes come to naught? Or did Marquis Lu, with his military power, wield enough influence to muster overwhelming support and impose his will on the imperial court?

If so, the difference between him and a treasonous usurper would be perilously thin.

Triumph or downfall—what path lay ahead for him...

Outside the window, rain began to fall unnoticed, its rhythmic drumming against the lattice shattering the tranquility of the spring night.

Du Lingjing sat deep in thought, her brow furrowed.