Chapter 44: Cliff Fall

Chapter 44: The Cliff Plunge

On the sixth day of the lunar month, the skies over Lingjing, clear for days, suddenly turned overcast, blanketed by gray clouds.

The usually serene imperial palace buzzed with activity. A thick red carpet snaked along the palace pathways to the grand hall, while stone lantern posts and palace eaves were adorned with red silk ribbons.

Inside the hall, dragon and phoenix motifs coiled around pillars, and colorful silk ribbons draped across beams, complemented by golden dragons and joyful phoenixes overhead—a scene of dreamlike opulence.

Civil and military officials stood in formation on either side, and the wedding delegation took their seats. Emperor Qiao Heng and Noble Consort Yun, Princess Zhaoyang’s birth mother, sat upon the dragon throne and phoenix carriage, receiving the obeisance of the court.

Behind the dragon throne, concealed by a multi-paneled screen depicting the nation’s landscapes, stood a single chair.

Behind the faintly visible screen, Mu Chi sat calmly, his pale, jade-like fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. In his other hand, he idly twirled a wine cup, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the Great Qi envoy.

After some time, a sharp voice echoed through the grand hall:

"Presenting Princess Zhaoyang!"

All eyes turned toward the hall entrance.

Mu Chi’s gaze shifted slightly, following the collective gaze of the officials.

Today, Qiao Qingni wore a cloud-patterned, gold-embroidered wedding gown, fiery and radiant. The gown was adorned with golden thread embroidering intricate phoenixes. She wore no bridal veil, only an ornate phoenix crown, its forehead pearl decorations swaying gently.

Regal and majestic.

Yet...

Mu Chi’s expression became somewhat distant.

In his haze, Qiao Qingni’s face transformed into that of Qiao Wan.

She had always been free-spirited, adoring such red garments and golden accessories—it seemed only she could truly pull them off.

If it were her wearing the wedding gown, it certainly wouldn’t be as prim and proper as it was now. She walked with such boundless energy, her skirt swaying, truly like a flickering flame.

The pearl ornaments at her forehead wouldn’t be as still as they were now; they would bounce and dance excitedly, just like her.

And she certainly wouldn’t obediently allow the heavy phoenix crown to press on her head.

She would likely, in some unnoticed corner, impatiently adjust the pearls, loosen the phoenix crown, and then frown deeply, asking the attendant beside her, "When will these tedious rituals end?"

If she were told it would still be a long, long time, it wouldn’t be beyond her to pout disdainfully and say, "This princess can’t go through with this wedding."

With such a spoiled and unreasonable temperament, if she were to marry, she would surely need to be coaxed and persuaded into it.

As that image came to mind, Mu Chi’s breath hitched unconsciously. The fingers tapping against the armrest stilled, and a warmth inexplicably rose in his chest, coursing joyfully through his cold body. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.

If it were Qiao Wan, she would likely have struggled through the morning makeup session...

*

Side Hall of Princess Zhaoyang’s Palace.

Yicui carefully adjusted the phoenix crown, securing it with a golden hairpin into Qiao Wan’s elaborate updo. The pearl strings at her forehead, made of round, lustrous pearls, swayed gently. "Princess, it is done."

Qiao Wan looked at her reflection in the bronze mirror—her makeup boldly applied, her lips painted a vivid red. She couldn’t help but smile. "Yicui, your skill with makeup has improved greatly."

Yicui showed no joy at the praise, instead looking at her with deep concern. "Princess, are you truly going to marry in Princess Zhaoyang’s place?"

In her heart, once one wore the wedding gown, it was as good as being married.

But the princess was exceptionally noble—how could she... how could she serve as someone else’s substitute?

Qiao Wan stood up, the pearl ornaments at her forehead bobbing eagerly. She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "As I’ve said, we are not getting married."

"Rather, we are gaining our freedom."

Her clothes and jewelry had long been neatly packed, along with nearly ten thousand taels of silver. Combined with Qiao Qingni’s twenty thousand taels, she could live in luxury anywhere she went.

Qiao Wan had even already planned on finding a place where it snowed every year, buying a house, hiring a few maids and guards, starting a small business. She would inspect the shops daily and review the account books.

If she were lucky enough to capture her heart, she would settle down. If not, she would live freely and contentedly.

Yicui looked at Qiao Wan, her lips parting as if to say something, when a very soft knock came from the door.

Qiao Wan patted Yicui’s shoulder. "Alright, it’s almost time. You should go and get ready too."

With that, she walked to the door, carefully opened it, and peeked out.

Cheng Qingchuan stood outside. Seeing the door open, he cupped his hands in respect. "Greetings, Princess Changle..."

His voice trailed off slightly as he caught sight of the person before him.

In the past, it was often said among the people that Princess Zhaoyang was a peerless beauty. But today, though both were dressed in wedding attire, for some reason, he felt that Princess Changle radiated such vibrant vitality, as if surrounded by a halo of light, enough to overshadow everything else.

"Bookworm, what’s wrong? Dazzled?" Qiao Wan waved her hand, teasing him. "Well? How do I look?"

Cheng Qingchuan snapped back to reality, his ears turning red. He coughed lightly and said, "In about the time it takes for one incense stick, someone will come to escort Princess Changle to the wedding carriage of the Great Qi envoy. At that time..."

His voice grew softer. "...Princess Changle will be no more."

Qiao Wan paused slightly at his words.

Cheng Qingchuan said, "If Princess Changle regrets..."

"No," Qiao Wan interrupted him, laughing. "One incense stick’s time, I understand. Thank you, Mr. Cheng."

Hearing her call him "Mr. Cheng" for the first time, Cheng Qingchuan felt an unspoken melancholy welling up inside him. He bowed slightly. "I shall take my leave now."

Qiao Wan nodded and was about to close the door.

"Princess Changle." Cheng Qingchuan, who had already reached the corridor, suddenly called out to her.

Qiao Wan looked up in confusion, the pearl ornaments gently clinking together. A breeze blew past, causing the wedding gown behind her to flutter softly.

Cheng Qingchuan was silent for a moment, then spoke out of turn for the first time. "Princess Changle is truly beautiful."

Qiao Wan was taken aback. She watched the retreating figure in the blue robe for a long moment before closing the door and smiling triumphantly. "Of course, I am beautiful."

After a moment of silence, she murmured softly, "No, I can’t refer to myself as 'princess' anymore..."

At the same time, in the grand hall.

Princess Zhaoyang had already paid her respects to the emperor and the noble consort. The ceremony was nearing its end, with soft songs and graceful dances fading away along with the music of flutes and strings. The court officials began to leave their seats.

The auspicious hour was approaching.

The members of the Great Qi envoy lined up on the red steps in front of the grand hall, with civil and military officials, led by Minister Wen, standing below the jade steps, watching from afar.

Mu Chi did not show himself, instead ascending slowly to the city tower.

A cool breeze swept across the city tower, rustling the white robes he wore and lifting the dark hair beneath his jade crown. His features were strikingly beautiful yet sharp and cold.

He wanted to see with his own eyes the maid he had arranged to take her place step into the bridal carriage sent by Li Muxuan.

After some time, a long announcement rang out, "Princess Zhaoyang has arrived!" Two maids escorted a woman clad in fiery red wedding robes, her head covered by a bright red bridal veil, followed by eight more maids bowing respectfully behind her.

A sudden gust of wind blew, causing the woman's wedding dress to flutter wildly. Against the dull and gloomy sky and palace walls, she looked like a blazing flame.

Mu Chi couldn’t help but stare at her. Even though she was the one he had arranged, a strange sense of foreboding surged in his chest.

He watched as the woman walked step by step toward the luxurious carriage at the center, saw the envoys of Great Qi bow to her respectfully, and observed her slowly stepping onto the vermillion step stool...

A cold, bitter feeling spread through Mu Chi’s chest, like the aftermath of being poisoned. He quickly reached out and gripped the railing in front of him, glancing up at the overcast sky. The oppressive gloom made it hard to breathe.

Below the tower, the woman in wedding robes finally ducked and entered the carriage. Her magnificent skirt, flowing like a stream, gradually disappeared behind the carriage door.

After a short delay, the wedding procession began moving slowly, heading toward the palace gates and gradually disappearing into the distance...

Mu Chi took one last look at the grand procession before turning and descending the tower.

The officials had already dispersed. Mu Chi left the palace without taking a carriage, walking forward calmly. Yet even after reaching the marketplace, he had no idea where to go.

He sensed a turmoil within himself—a restlessness and anxiety that left him feeling helpless and confused, not knowing where it came from.

A feeling of loss, unlike any before, washed over him.

"Wan Wan, look at this beautiful rouge," a woman by the street called softly to her close friend beside her.

Mu Chi instinctively looked toward the sound. When he saw they were strangers, he hesitated, then looked away calmly.

Wan Wan.

Mu Chi snorted quietly. What an affectionate nickname. He had always called her... "Qiao Wan, Qiao Wan."

Besides, given Qiao Wan’s picky and refined taste, she would never want street vendor rouge. If he bought it for her, she’d probably smash it right in his face.

Mu Chi’s steps came to an abrupt stop.

Perhaps it was because he had been seeing her at night lately, or perhaps because the fiery red wedding gown resembled something she would wear—but suddenly, Mu Chi really wanted to see Qiao Wan.

Even if... she would surely give him a hard time because of the ankle restraint.

He looked around, and his gaze eventually settled on a jewelry store in the distance.

When he emerged from the shop, he held a mermaid pearl bracelet in his hand—a cheap trinket not worth a thousand taels, but something she would like.

But as he rounded the corner, Si Li rushed toward him from the direction of the princess’s residence, his face anxious.

Mu Chi’s footsteps halted unconsciously.

Si Li hurried up to him, his voice hoarse as he said, "Sir, Princess Changle is missing!"

Mu Chi’s hand, holding the bracelet, stiffened. For the first time, he didn’t understand what "missing" meant. After a long moment, he cocked his head and asked, "Missing?"

"When I went to deliver the medicine today, I found that Princess Changle’s ankle restraint was unlocked. No one knows when she left the residence. The guards outside the courtyard normally don’t dare enter without permission, so none of them were aware that Princess Changle had gone."

The ankle restraint was unlocked.

The guards didn’t dare enter the courtyard without permission.

The freedom he had given her had become her opportunity to escape.

But why would she leave? Did she no longer want anything in Lingjing?

He had allowed her to remain the high-status Princess Changle, provided her with better food, clothes, and luxuries than before, and had even known she had a key to the ankle restraint without taking it back...

Why would she leave?

Mu Chi clenched the bracelet tightly in his palm, feeling a chaotic whirl of thoughts flooding his mind.

The fiery wedding robes, the wedding procession from Great Qi, Qiao Wan’s disappearance...

It was as if he was on the verge of confronting an unbearable truth.

Just then, a hidden guard quietly landed before them. "Young Master, we spotted several of Minister Wen’s followers and guards at the southern city gate. They were attempting to secretly escort someone out of the city in a carriage but were stopped by our men for a routine check. They have been brought back to the Mu residence along with the carriage."

The confusion in Mu Chi’s eyes suddenly cleared, as if he had grasped a single thread of hope. "Are you certain they are Wen Xun’s people?"

"Absolutely," the guard confirmed. "Before the palace coup, I had seen those disciples at Minister Wen’s residence."

Mu Chi lowered his gaze, his dark pupils swirling with fury and killing intent, yet also carrying a faint glimmer of light.

So, it was Wen Xun.

Wen Xun was the one who wanted her to leave Lingjing—she hadn’t chosen to leave on her own.

She didn’t want to leave Lingjing... or him.

"Young Master..." Si Li called out worriedly, but before he could finish, Mu Chi abruptly turned and dashed toward the Mu residence.

His urgent figure seemed desperate to verify something.

Startled, Si Li hurried after him.

But when he arrived breathlessly at the Mu residence, his body shuddered involuntarily.

The courtyard was thick with the smell of blood.

Mu Chi’s white robes were spattered with several dark red droplets of blood. He stepped slowly over one body after another—some still clinging weakly to life—as he made his way toward the carriage.

When he finally reached the carriage, his hand hesitated, frozen mid-air for a long moment before he slowly pulled open the door. But the moment he saw the woman inside, his pupils constricted sharply.

It was... the maid who should have been the substitute bride.

But if she was in the carriage, then who was the one who had taken her place today...?

Mu Chi’s face turned deathly pale. The truth he had been on the verge of grasping yet avoiding now lay blatantly before his eyes.

The one wearing the wedding robes on the Danchi was Qiao Wan!

The one he had watched step by step enter the bridal carriage to marry another was Qiao Wan!

How dare she choose to marry a stranger she had never met rather than stay?

How dare she... let him watch her marry another in wedding robes!

"Young Master..."

Si Li cautiously approached, but Mu Chi suddenly turned around, his expression cold as ice, his voice hoarse as he commanded, "Give the order—seal the city gates and prepare the horses!"

*

As soon as the wedding escort left the palace, Qiao Wan urged them to pick up the pace.

The Great Qi envoy, assuming that the noble Princess Zhaoyang was worried about spending the night in the mountains now that it was dark, respectfully complied.

The envoy's horses were all thousand-li steeds, and they actually reached Yanming Mountain before nightfall.

But even the best horses need rest. After a brief discussion, the envoy decided to take a short break at Yanming Mountain.

Qiao Wan opened the carriage window and looked outside, only then realizing they were at the foot of Yanming Mountain—the same resting place used during the last mountain worship ceremony.

Not far away was that short cliff, and the higher they went, the steeper the cliffs became, until at the very top, there was a sheer drop like an abyss.

Crossing Yanming Mountain, this mountain path was the only route.

Qiao Wan looked toward the cliffs, as if seeing once more the scene of Mu Chi taking the arrow for Qiao Qingni and falling straight down.

From then on, the Mu Chi who had stayed by her side, gentle and devoted, had completely vanished.

Perhaps a marker should be placed.

For that gentle Mu Chi, and for the Princess Changle who thought she had everything.

"Yicui, I need to change," Qiao Wan said softly, imitating Qiao Qingni's tone.

Yicui replied and went to speak with the envoy before returning to carefully help her out of the carriage.

The envoy sent two guards to follow them. They stopped and turned around after confirming there was no path ahead upon reaching the cliffs.

Qiao Wan calmly walked into the woods beside the cliff, lifted her red bridal veil, but did not change clothes. Instead, she stood motionless, staring toward Lingjing.

"Princess?" Yicui called out to her with concern.

Qiao Wan snapped back to reality, smiled at Yicui, and turned as if searching for something.

"What is the princess looking for?" Yicui asked, puzzled.

Qiao Wan did not answer. Finally, she found a spare tent plank in a corner. She paused, then smiled at Yicui: "Help me with this, Yicui."

The two dug a shallow pit in the woods, placed the board upright inside, making it look like a grave.

Qiao Wan stood before the grave, staring fixedly, lost in memory.

It wasn’t until she heard the distant guards call out "Princess Zhaoyang" that she glanced once more at the mountain path ahead and returned to the carriage with Yicui.

After the break, the procession got ready to move on.

Just then, a lone set of hoofbeats emerged from the pitch-black distance, galloping desperately toward them.

Qiao Wan pushed open the carriage window and looked out in surprise. When torchlights flared further in the distance, a sense of foreboding suddenly rose in her heart: "We need to go—could be bandits close by."

The envoy was startled but didn’t have time to think, fearing misfortune and urgently urging everyone to hasten their horses.

The mountain path grew increasingly treacherous, and the carriage lurched and bumped along.

Qiao Wan anxiously looked back. Though she could see nothing, she was sure in her gut that Mu Chi’s men were pursuing them.

It felt like ages later, as they reached the middle of the mountain path, several arrows shot from hiding out from the woods, striking several galloping horses.

The horses screamed, cutting through the night sky as they reared wildly.

"Bandits!"

"Protect Princess Zhaoyang!"

"…"

Chaotic, panicked voices, the sound of weapons being drawn, the relentless approach of hoofbeats in the distance…

Everything fell into chaos.

It wasn’t until the Great Qi envoy managed to regain control of the horses, and the pursuing riders close enough to make out a rider in white—

But only the most lavishly decorated carriage did not stop. Its horses, as if possessed, charged toward the sheer cliff at breakneck speed without slowing, before anyone could react…

*

Mu Chi’s eyes widened with horror, straining as he watched the carriage vanish over the edge of the cliff.

He tried to speak, but his throat seemed blocked, unable to produce any sound. Only after a long moment did he force out a raw, broken shout:

"Qiao Wan—"

How dare she!

Mu Chi dismounted, but the moment his feet touched the ground, his legs gave way, and he crumpled to the ground.

He pushed himself up with his hands. In that moment, he completely forgot his qínggōng, stumbling blindly toward the edge of the cliff…

Author's Note:

Wan Wan: Playing dead—do not @ me.