Chapter 28: Kite

Chapter 28: Kites

On the second day of the second lunar month, the sky was clear, a welcome change after a long spell.

The day before, Qiao Wan had been busy from dawn till dusk, exchanging some silver notes for actual gold and silver, which she then hid in the mansion's cellar. She also meticulously inventoried her clothes and jewelry.

The consequence was that by the Hour of Si (9-11 AM) on the second day, she was still luxuriating in bed.

It wasn't until Yicui reported that Major General Jing threatened to barge in if the princess didn't emerge that Qiao Wan reluctantly rose. She changed, styled her hair, and ambled out of the residence. Spotting the waiting carriage and Jing Lan mounted on his red-maned horse, she yawned, "Good morning, Major General Jing."

Jing Lan, who had been fuming for nearly an hour, looked up, and his irritation momentarily vanished.

Today, Qiao Wan wore no makeup, her small face bare as she stepped out, surrounded by her retinue. Her dark hair was intricately braided, secured with a golden coronet, with one long braid cascading down. Dressed in an ochre nomadic-style robe and a vibrant red thin cloak, she exuded a dashing and charming aura. In her hand, she held a ruby-studded horsewhip, boldly appraising him.

Jing Lan turned his head with a faint snort. "Does Princess Changle even realize what time it is?"

Qiao Wan raised an eyebrow. "If Major General Jing doesn't wish to wait, he's free to leave."

Jing Lan faltered, shot her a glare, then spurred his horse to the front, ignoring her.

Seeing him discomfited, Qiao Wan's mood instantly brightened. She made a show of gracefully entering the carriage.

The carriage proceeded towards the city outskirts. Despite recent rumors of impending unrest in Lingjing, the streets on this Spring Plowing Day were as bustling as ever, filled with the incessant cries of vendors.

Lingjing was like the last fig leaf covering the Great Li's decay—a festering wound hidden beneath a facade of illusory prosperity.

Qiao Wan couldn't help but gaze at Jing Lan ahead, his crimson robes fluttering in the wind, the red jade bead in his high-tied dark hair intermittently visible.

Did the Jing family know that the Great Li was already critically ill? And what choice would they make?

The carriage finally halted in a field on the city's periphery. In the distance, a few farmers tilled their land, and numerous children ran about, laughing and playing.

Qiao Wan's kite was a massive shrike, its blue and green hues depicting it poised for flight, wings outstretched.

Jing Lan gave her a surprised look.

He had expected, given her personality, that her kite would be a flamboyant phoenix or a dazzling peacock, not this rather crude shrike.

"What are you gawking at? Hold this for me!" Qiao Wan thrust the kite into his hands, gripping the spool herself with an eager, excited expression. "Is your qinggong just for show?"

Jing Lan looked at the spool in his hand and snorted. "You think my qinggong is for playing with this?"

Despite his words, he took the kite, eyeing the simple shrike with disdain. "There are so many enjoyable things to do. I don't know why you'd choose to fly a kite."

Qiao Wan seemed not to hear him. She ran forward with the spool, the wind whistling past her ears, still carrying the chill of early spring. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and her cloak billowed behind her.

Watching her practiced movements, Jing Lan instinctively followed a few steps. The large shrike kite, catching the spring breeze, lurched into the air, then rose higher and higher...

For a moment, it resembled a true eagle soaring freely in the sky.

Qiao Wan gradually slowed to a stop, gazing up at the kite dancing in the wind.

She had, in fact, heard Jing Lan's earlier remark.

Why did she love flying kites so much?

Perhaps it was because, in her childhood, her mother often flew kites within the confines of the palace walls, using whatever small breeze there was. When the kite reached its highest point, she would cut the string, watching that "great shrike" disappear...

Her mother had also died in a spring like this.

She didn't retain many childhood memories, but the kite always remained vivid.

Suddenly, a massive silver-and-red goldfish kite appeared beside her shrike, its tail fluttering like a phoenix, drawing a vibrant line across the clear sky.

Qiao Wan turned to look. Jing Lan, holding the spool, raised an eyebrow at her with a grin. "Qiao Wan, my kite is higher than yours!"

Qiao Wan looked up. The goldfish's tail was indeed proudly overshadowing her shrike.

She shot a fierce glare at Jing Lan and competitively let out more string.

Jing Lan chuckled and did the same.

In the end, Qiao Wan's string was longer, and the shrike wobbled triumphantly above the goldfish.

She gave Jing Lan a smug look.

Jing Lan watched her radiant expression, paused, then leaped onto a nearby tree branch.

The goldfish wavered, then managed to overtake the shrike once more.

Qiao Wan: "..."

After a moment of silence, she looked up angrily in Jing Lan's direction, then lifted her skirt and ran toward him, her face flushed with indignation. "Jing Lan!"

"Qiao Wan, if your skill falls short, you should admit defeat. How can you be such a sore loser..."

In the vibrant spring light, the man in flamboyant crimson laughed unrestrainedly ahead, while the woman, her face flushed, chased after him, her cloak a streak of red against the barren field.

In her left hand, adorned with vermilion nail polish, she tightly gripped the kite string.

The gentle breeze seemed to highlight two bold, vivid faces—bright and full of life.

The young man and woman were joyfully uninhibited, their vitality and noble spirit nurtured by a life of privilege and doting, utterly unlike the monsters struggling in purgatory.

They were perfectly matched.

Mu Chi stood quietly not far away, his lips pressed tightly together as he watched the scene unfold.

Beneath his bamboo hat, his face was expressionless, pale as a vengeful spirit.

On his way to Lingjing, Mu Chi had imagined countless ways Qiao Wan might react upon seeing him return to fly kites with her.

Perhaps she would glare at him angrily without a word; maybe she would lash out at him with her whip; or perhaps she would hold the kite with reddened eyes, then turn and leave alone, only to snap, "Aren't you coming?" when she noticed he wasn't following...

But in reality, she didn't necessarily need to come with him.

Even if he didn't come, she could come with someone else and still have just as much fun, smiling just as brightly.

The two kites soaring high in the sky were like the chasing couple, intertwined.

And he stood watching from the shadows.

Just like those years in the dungeon, never seeing the light.

After a long while, Mu Chi looked at the two figures and let out a low laugh, seemingly joyful, but the tail end of it turned hoarse.

How good—she wouldn't bother him anymore.

He no longer needed to inexplicably entertain feelings that even he found annoying and repulsive.

Everything had simply returned to its original place, as if nothing in between had ever happened.

By dusk, Qiao Wan was feeling a bit tired and was about to reel in her kite when it suddenly wobbled mid-air, got caught on a nearby branch, and its string snapped.

Qiao Wan let out an "Oh!" and took two steps toward the direction the kite had flown off before abruptly stopping, her gaze fixed on a corner not far away.

Out of the corner of her eye, she seemed to have seen a familiar white figure wearing a bamboo hat.

But when she looked more closely, there was clearly no one there.

"Qiao Wan, have you lost your mind?" Jing Lan walked up to her side. "The kite has flown far away. Aren't you going after it?"

Qiao Wan snapped out of her daze and looked at him, then back at the distant kite, and was briefly lost in thought.

In that moment, she felt she understood her mother.

One day, she too would break free from the string that bound her, just like this kite, and leave this place.

"You're the one who's lost your mind!" Qiao Wan retorted tartly, turning to leave.

Jing Lan watched her striding away, the corner of his lips curling unconsciously. But then, recalling her slightly pale expression moments earlier, his smile faded, and he paused before following after her.

Behind them, the kite in mid-air shuddered violently as if struck by something, wobbled unsteadily, and fell to the ground.

A pale hand calmly picked up the kite.

The carriage back to the city was not as fast as it had been on the way out, moving leisurely along with the setting sun.

Qiao Wan drifted in and out of sleep inside the carriage, her thoughts drifting back to that white figure she had seen.

She must have imagined it.

It wasn't until faint, bustling noise and vendors hawking drifted in through the window that Qiao Wan jolted awake, realizing the carriage had already stopped.

She pushed open the window and saw a crowd gathered outside, loudly calling out their goods, creating a bustling scene.

Qiao Wan frowned. "Why have we stopped here?"

The coachman replied, "Young Master Jing ordered the stop."

Qiao Wan looked up displeased and immediately spotted Jing Lan lounging among the crowd, leaning casually against a wall behind him, occasionally raising an eyebrow to greet someone familiarly.

Meeting her gaze, Jing Lan paused in surprise, then strode over, jerking his chin at her. "Well? Never seen this before, have you?"

Just as Qiao Wan was about to speak, someone passed by and ribbed Jing Lan, "Haven't seen you in a while, Young Master Jing. Not placing a bet today?"

Qiao Wan frowned.

Jing Lan glanced at her and shrugged at the man. "Not today."

The man shook his head regretfully and walked away.

Qiao Wan continued to stare at Jing Lan. "Gambling?"

"Rooster fights," Jing Lan corrected her, crossing his arms as he leaned against the carriage and looked toward the enclosure amidst the crowd, where the sounds of fighting roosters could faintly be heard.

"This isn't the way back to the princess's residence," Qiao Wan said unhappily.

"Indeed, it's not," Jing Lan replied without a hint of remorse. "This is the West Market."

Qiao Wan was annoyed. "Who gave you permission to bring me here without asking?"

Hearing this, Jing Lan finally turned to look at her. "Qiao Wan, why don't you take a look at yourself?"

Qiao Wan was puzzled.

Jing Lan scoffed. "Since returning from Chuzhou, your complexion has been awful, and now it's downright frightening. His Majesty asked me to take you out to relax, but anyone would think I've been bullying you."

Qiao Wan fell silent. Since returning from Chuzhou, she had actually been quite calm, and even Yicui rarely noticed anything amiss.

"Hey, Qiao Wan," Jing Lan rapped on the carriage, his attention returning to the two roosters fighting fiercely in the enclosure. "Guess who's going to win?"

Qiao Wan instinctively looked ahead.

Two roosters were locked in a heated battle—one with black feathers and a red comb, the other with white feathers and a black comb. The black one seemed larger and more aggressive.

"The black one," Qiao Wan said.

"Really?" Jing Lan squinted at her. "Then I'll bet on the white one."

Qiao Wan grew intrigued. "What's the wager?"

Jing Lan pretended to think for a moment. "Haven't decided yet. We'll talk about it later."

He then relaxed and turned his attention back to the enclosure.

Qiao Wan had never been to a place like this before, and for a moment, she forgot her earlier displeasure, hopping down from the carriage to crane her neck to see.

The roosters were still fighting, and the crowd's excitement grew louder.

Qiao Wan found herself caught up in the excitement, unconsciously joining in the shouts.

But as the black rooster's attacks slowed, the white rooster seemed to just be getting started, leaping into the air and surging forward fiercely.

In the end, the white-feathered rooster won.

Night had just fallen, and the night market of the Spring Plowing Day was particularly lively, with warm yellow lights illuminating the streets of Lingjing as bright as day.

The carriage could go no further, so they had to walk for a stretch.

Qiao Wan was still sulking over her loss and remained silent the whole way.

Jing Lan, on the other hand, was laughing heartily beside her.

Qiao Wan grew even angrier, scowling at him before quickening her pace.

"Qiao Wan," Jing Lan's voice called out from behind, "I want some almond tea."

Qiao Wan didn't turn around. "Buy it yourself."

"But," Jing Lan hesitated, "the white rooster won earlier."

Qiao Wan's steps faltered, and she turned to see Jing Lan standing under a lantern, giving her an innocent smile that was as irritating as could be.

Then, he picked up a cup of almond tea and nodded at the vendor.

Qiao Wan: "..."

In the end, she reluctantly walked over, intending to just throw down the money and leave, but catching the fragrant scent of the almond tea, she paused and got herself one too.

The entire way, Jing Lan was never idle.

Before long, he had bought a pile of exquisite little trinkets.

Lifelike clay figurines, ornately painted ceramic horses, translucent sugar figurines, and delicate stone paintings...

Every time Qiao Wan took out her coin purse, she could sense the subtle glances from the vendors sizing up Jing Lan, as if saying: He looks the part, but turns out to be a freeloader.

Yet the freeloader himself didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. Instead, he held the folding fan he had just bought, fanning himself with an air of pretentious elegance in the cool early spring night as he strolled along leisurely.

Until they reached a massive lantern stall.

The lanterns were inscribed with half a line of poetry; the challenge was to complete the second half after three drumbeats. Only by answering correctly until the last lantern could one win the prize.

But the stall owner never revealed what the prize was.

Qiao Wan had only studied haphazardly at the Imperial Academy, so she could only match a few lines of poetry and ended up winning a cloth tiger sewn from patterned fabric.

To her surprise, Jing Lan, who seemed unreliable, actually answered correctly lantern after lantern, especially the later poems she hadn't even heard of.

In the end, he was the only one who answered them all.

The stall owner, smiling, took out a hairpin and handed it to him.

The hairpin was made of inexpensive silver, but the head was carved from the humble metal into a flower butterfly about to take flight, its wings trembling delicately, the craftsmanship so exquisite it seemed divinely made.

Qiao Wan couldn't help but glance at it a few more times.

Jing Lan flicked the butterfly's wings and then tutted: "All those poems answered for nothing, a useless little trinket."

Qiao Wan glanced at the ugly cloth tiger in her hand and snorted coldly.

Pushing his luck.

Jing Lan glanced at the tiger in her hand: "This little thing is ugly in a unique way." After saying that, he snatched the cloth tiger away.

"Jing Lan!" Qiao Wan glared at him angrily.

"Let's swap." Jing Lan stuffed the hairpin into her hand and said lazily.

Qiao Wan looked at the hairpin in her hand; the flower butterfly nestled at its head quivered slightly, as if about to dance gracefully.

"What? Unwilling?" Jing Lan looked at her, "Then swap back."

"No." Qiao Wan quickly dodged his hand.

Even if it was inexpensive silver, it was still much prettier than that cloth tiger.

Jing Lan sneered: "Qiao Wan, look at your pathetic self."

Qiao Wan shot him a glance and retorted: "If you're so impressive, I don't see Third Royal Sister liking you much."

Jing Lan frowned deeply, turning his head to gaze at her somberly.

Sensing the silence beside her, Qiao Wan glanced at him, then cautiously hid the hairpin behind her back: "Alright, this princess is tired, let's return to the manor."

After saying that, she turned away first, her braid swaying cheerfully behind her.

Jing Lan watched her retreat from behind for a moment, then finally followed.

Not far away, a pair of eyes watched silently as the two walked away together.

The bustling lights stretched their shadows very long; the hairpin in the woman's hand, the flower butterfly, appeared to dance along with her movements.

"Young master, your hand is bleeding." A woman, looking at the man wearing a bamboo hat before her, exclaimed softly.

When she clearly saw the face hidden beneath the hat, she paused—this person was truly good-looking—then blushed and ran away.

Mu Chi's eyes were devoid of emotion as he lowered his gaze, noticing that the painted ceramic horse in his hand had been crushed in his palm at some point. Sharp ceramic fragments had deeply pierced his flesh, and drops of blood fell one by one.

Not just that.

The other small items in his hand were also ruined.

The kite's frame was broken, reduced to a crumpled mess of paper; the lifelike clay figurine had lost its shape; the sugar figurine was shattered; the stone painting was stained with blood, the landscape and ink wash blurred beyond recognition...

Si Li, who had come to escort Mu Chi out of the city, blended into the crowds and searched for a long time before finally finding him. He quickened his pace and quietly approached his side: "Young master, our men have successfully crossed Yanming Mountain and are waiting for your return to take command."

If not for that map of Yanming Mountain, it would never have gone so smoothly. In less than a month, they could break into Lingjing.

But after waiting a long time without a response from Mu Chi, Si Li hesitated, then stepped in front of him: "Young master..."

"Si Li, look." Mu Chi interrupted him, his voice extremely soft and gentle.

Si Li, puzzled, followed his gaze and was startled when he saw the pair of figures in the distance.

Mu Chi laughed, his eyes icy cold: "That flower butterfly hairpin is the only one of its kind."

She accepted it.

She said she adored him.

Yet she accepted the only flower butterfly hairpin given by someone else.

Author's Note:

A certain dog: I held the little trinkets she bought for me, even if she bought them for me o(╥﹏╥)o

A certain dog: But damn, that flower butterfly hairpin is actually the only one!

(A certain dog is about to take action!)