Chapter 69: Red Bean

Chapter 69: The Red Bean

Qiao Wan returned early today, her herbal fumigation treatment concluding just halfway through the You hour.

The ice chamber was frigid. Even with her naturally warm constitution, an hour inside had left Qiao Wan chilled for a good while. It was only after her bath that she began to feel better.

Back in her room, Qiao Wan settled by the charcoal brazier, warming herself and letting the heat dry the lingering dampness from her body. Behind her, Lv Luo quietly dried her wet hair.

The charcoal in the brazier glowed a deep red, faint flames flickering within.

It was at this moment that Mu Chi entered.

Hearing the movement, Qiao Wan glanced at him, then turned her gaze to the window. "Weren't you going to review memorials?"

It was only the hour of Xu. Even a neglectful ruler like Qiao Heng would typically review documents until the hour of Hai.

Mu Chi gazed at her profile, illuminated by the candlelight and the brazier's glow, appearing exceptionally warm. Unconsciously, he exhaled a silent breath, which misted in the cool air.

He couldn't focus on the memorials. Every time he closed his eyes, he seemed to see her standing before the palace in red robes, side by side with Jing Lan.

The name on the roster submitted today—General Who Pacifies the North—was Jing Lan.

Jing Lan was different.

Jing Lan had flown kites with Qiao Wan, had been betrothed to her by parental arrangement, and even when exiled to the borderlands, he never asked for the betrothal gifts back.

And on the day Jing Lan left, Qiao Wan had wept so bitterly.

These thoughts tormented him repeatedly. It was only upon seeing her now that he could finally find some peace.

"Hey?" Qiao Wan called out, seeing him stare at her without a word.

Mu Chi snapped back to reality, glancing at the maid drying her hair and Qiao Wan sitting docilely by the brazier—a rare sight. After a moment's pause, he walked over, picked up a fresh cloth, and took over for the maid. "I'll have Si Li bring the memorials here later."

Qiao Wan frowned. "Why bring them here? And Lv Luo was doing just fine—do you have nothing better to do?"

Since when did a Crown Prince have nothing better to do than dry her hair?

Mu Chi's hands stilled briefly. "Haven't I done this for you before?"

The "before" he referred to was naturally from the time he had posed as a male entertainer.

Qiao Wan pressed her lips together and said nothing more.

Mu Chi offered a faint smile, carefully drying her black hair strand by strand with the dry cloth, letting the water soak into the fabric, carrying the faint scent of soapberries.

A moment later, Mu Chi lowered his gaze and called softly, "Qiao Wan."

Qiao Wan turned her head slightly. "What?"

But Mu Chi said nothing more. After a long pause, he called again, softly, "Qiao Wan."

This time, Qiao Wan didn't even turn her head. "Hmm?"

Mu Chi's lips parted. He wanted to ask if she still thought of Jing Lan, if she had ever felt even a flicker of affection for him during this time—even for just a moment. But the words wouldn't come.

In the end, he could only call her name once more, almost cautiously. "Qiao Wan."

Qiao Wan, completely irritated, ignored him.

Mu Chi fell silent as well, and the room suddenly grew quiet.

Qiao Wan felt the gentle motion through her hair and found herself lost in thought.

Mu Chi's fingers were pale and slender, occasionally threading through her dark locks, moving gradually downward along the smooth, black strands.

From time to time, Qiao Wan could feel the cool whisper of his breath against the top of her head.

What should have been a simple act of drying hair felt strangely intimate under the soft, warm light—until a stray strand drifted to her lips, and a cool finger quietly brushed it away, the tip accidentally grazing her lower lip. Qiao Wan had finally had enough.

Perhaps it was the heat from the brazier, but Qiao Wan felt her cheeks growing warm. She swatted Mu Chi's hand away and touched her nearly dry hair. "That's enough, it's dry now."

Mu Chi gave a low hum, his eyes lingering on her hair cascading down her back. Suddenly, he recalled the stories in those books—the deeply affectionate men and women who loved to style each other's hair and apply makeup. His gaze unconsciously drifted to the dressing table nearby, and he paused.

The jade butterfly pearl hairpin lay there, clearly placed carelessly.

Mu Chi hesitated for a moment. "Would you like me to pencil your brows?"

Qiao Wan looked up and glared at him. "It's nighttime. Why would I do that at night?"

Mu Chi listened to her retort without a word, thoughtful for a moment before walking to the dressing table and picking up the hairpin. "Then how about trying this?"

Qiao Wan: "…"

She fell silent, rolled her eyes, and said, "I'm about to rest." What was the point of styling her hair now?

"Just try it. You can sit right here. I'll take it down for you later," Mu Chi said calmly, as though it were the most natural thing.

Qiao Wan looked at him in disbelief, surprised that anyone would willingly take on such a servant's work.

But since she still had energy to spare and didn't have to lift a finger herself, she said nothing more.

Mu Chi picked up a wooden comb and smoothly untangled her long hair, his hands skillfully twisting it into a Xiang-style bun before securing it with the jade butterfly pearl hairpin.

Looking at the hairpin nestled in her hair, Mu Chi couldn't help but smile.

This was something he had given her.

Just then, Si Li's voice came from outside the door—he had brought the memorials.

Mu Chi sat down at a low table and began reviewing them, occasionally writing a few comments. Each time he picked up his brush, he would glance up at Qiao Wan sitting by the brazier.

For the first time, he felt not a chill in his chest, but… layers of warmth.

Perhaps it was the warmth of the brazier, or perhaps the medicine she had taken earlier was finally taking effect, but drowsiness soon overwhelmed Qiao Wan. Her slender body curled into the wide chair, her eyes half-closed in comfort.

Her freshly washed, smooth, and thick black hair was held in place only by the jade hairpin, but it soon began to loosen.

Overwhelmed by drowsiness, Qiao Wan's head suddenly nodded forward abruptly, and her bun came completely undone. The hairpin slipped forward.

Blinking sleepily, Qiao Wan watched as the hairpin fell toward the charcoal brazier.

But at that moment, a hand swiftly reached into the brazier and caught the hairpin. That hand, however, was scorched by the red-hot charcoal, the skin blistering immediately.

Qiao Wan jolted fully awake. Staring at the red, burned flesh, she looked up and frowned. "Are you insane? It's just a hairpin—"

Halfway through her sentence, she stopped herself and pressed her lips together stubbornly.

Mu Chi looked into her eyes and, after a long moment, smiled. "The jade isn't valuable—it can't withstand the heat."

He said, placing the hairpin into her hand.

Qiao Wan snorted lightly and ignored him.

Mu Chi fell silent for a moment before adding, "Besides, I don’t feel pain. It’s fine."

Those once forbidden topics, which would have meant death to anyone who mentioned them, were now spoken openly in front of her.

Qiao Wan frowned deeply. She felt Mu Chi was trying to gain sympathy, yet his expression didn’t seem to match. In the end, she only stood up angrily and said, "I’m going to rest."

With that, she strode into the inner room.

Mu Chi watched her retreating figure and slowly curved his lips into a smile.

*

Jin Yin Zhai opened on the twenty-second day of the second month.

On opening day, Qiao Wan made a point to change into new clothes and selected the most exquisite jewelry from the shop to wear.

Amid the constant sound of firecrackers, any guest who spent ten taels of silver received an exquisite copper hairpin adorned with kingfisher feathers and plum blossoms, and the shop offered complimentary pastries and tea.

For a time, Jin Yin Zhai was flooded with people—some came out of curiosity, some were maidservants of noble ladies from Yan Capital here to select jewelry, and there were even young ladies disguised as men, carrying kites, who passed by and, drawn by the lively atmosphere, curiously stepped inside to browse.

In short, after that day, Jin Yin Zhai quickly gained fame in Yan Capital for its rare buy-one-get-one-free offers and complimentary pastries and tea.

That evening, Qiao Wan deliberately invited the accountant, along with several embroiderers and shop assistants, to celebrate with Yicui.

They ordered a large table of food and wine at the best restaurant in Yan Capital. Simply drinking felt too dull, so they decided to play the "flying flower" poetry drinking game. After a few rounds, Qiao Wan had drunk several cups of wine and began to feel woozy.

Meanwhile, Mu Chi stood at the entrance of the residence, his gaze dark as he watched the gradually darkening streets, waiting for Qiao Wan’s return. His expression grew increasingly uneasy.

Qiao Wan didn’t want anyone to know Jin Yin Zhai had any connection to the Crown Prince, and she had explicitly forbidden him from visiting the shop during this period.

But now, with the sky fully dark, there was still no sign of Qiao Wan’s return.

Mu Chi grew more anxious with each passing moment. The closer it got to the day when delegations from various states would arrive in Yan Capital, the more restless he became, unable to stop himself from wondering: Had Jing Lan already entered Yan Capital? Did… Qiao Wan already know about this…?

The crowd visiting Jin Yin Zhai today was surely mixed—who knows what inappropriate things might have been said?

At this thought, Mu Chi’s heart sank abruptly. He could wait no longer and swiftly headed in the direction of Jin Yin Zhai.

After taking just a few steps, a carriage slowly approached. Mu Chi’s footsteps halted as he watched Uncle Zhang bring the carriage to a stop with a "whoa." The carriage door opened, and Qiao Wan was the first to jump down.

However, as she landed, her steps were unsteady. Uncle Zhang moved to support her, but before he could reach her arm, a white figure flashed before him—Mu Chi had already steadied her. "You’ve been drinking?" he asked.

Qiao Wan looked up dazedly. "Yicui?"

Mu Chi’s hand, supporting her, stiffened slightly. For a moment, he felt intensely jealous of Yicui, who had earned such trust from her.

Si Li, who was supporting Yicui nearby, sensed his master’s cold aura and silently stepped forward. "I will help Miss Yicui rest first."

Mu Chi said nothing, his gaze fixed on Qiao Wan. He bent down, swept her into his arms, ordered someone to prepare sobering tea and hot water, and strode toward the bedroom.

Even after entering the bedroom, Mu Chi did not let go. He sat on the edge of the bed, still holding her tightly.

This was the only intimacy between them during this time.

Romance novels said that when you like someone, you desire intimacy with them. He thought he must like her very much indeed.

Mu Chi’s arms tightened around her involuntarily, and he gently rested his head against the crook of her neck, feeling threads of warmth envelop him.

Perhaps because she had seen many young ladies carrying kites that day, Qiao Wan dreamed of kites. When she opened her eyes, her vision was still blurry.

Mu Chi, sensing she was awake, stiffened, afraid she would be displeased by his overstepping. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold.

But Qiao Wan lifted her head and looked at him seriously, her alcohol-brightened eyes startlingly clear. "Mu Chi?" she called out crisply.

Mu Chi was stunned, gazing at the woman before him in fiery red clothing. For a moment, he felt as if he had returned to the princess’s estate, and she was still the willful Princess Changle.

"Yes," he responded softly.

Qiao Wan blinked, and after a moment, said, "I dreamed I was flying a kite…"

Mu Chi paused, his eyes fixed on hers. "Do you want to fly a kite? We can go tomorrow—"

"But not with you," Qiao Wan interrupted him, the light in her eyes dimming. "When you heard I wanted to fly a kite, you mocked me."

Mu Chi froze, memories from those years flooding his mind.

When she had looked at him with eager eyes, asking him to fly a kite with her, he had inwardly scorned her for being childish and overreaching.

Mu Chi held her tightly, filled with dread. He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say.

The coldness and exploitation of the past had ultimately become sharp blades lodged in his heart, slicing deep with the slightest touch, causing excruciating pain.

Trapped in his embrace, Qiao Wan shifted uncomfortably, squinting as she grew more clear-headed. She looked up at the stunningly handsome man illuminated by the candlelight and snorted irritably. "Jerk."

Mu Chi’s hands stilled.

Qiao Wan added, "Beast."

"Scumbag."

"Madman!"

Mu Chi watched her aggrieved eyes and quietly let her vent. When she finally stopped, he said, "Drink today’s medicine. I’ve already consulted the imperial physician—you can skip the medicinal fumigation today."

Still angry from her dream, Qiao Wan took the medicine and drank it in one gulp before turning her back to him and lying down on the bed.

Mu Chi gazed steadily at her retreating figure, her slightly disheveled hair adorned with elaborate hairpins and trembling pendants.

He bent down and carefully removed each hairpin from her hair one by one. But when he pulled out one hidden deep within her chignon, he paused.

She wasn’t wearing the jade butterfly pearl hairpin. Instead, she wore a gold filigree hairpin carved with flowers. From the end of the hairpin dangled a delicate gold thread, exquisitely crafted into the shape of a phoenix, incredibly elaborate.

But beneath that gold thread hung a round, smooth red jade bead, resembling a drop of blood or a red bean.

*

Southern border of Great Qi.

A procession marched in grand formation toward Yan Capital.

A military officer riding at the rear looked at the man in vermilion nomadic-style attire ahead and whispered to the person beside him, "I heard General Who Pacifies the North rushed back overnight, galloping nonstop, just to accompany us to Yan Capital?"

The other person glanced forward and shook his head. "I’m not sure, but with General Who Pacifies the North here, we’re sure to win first place in the martial competition this time."

The officer nodded in agreement.

Only the personal guard at the front, hearing the whispers behind him, sighed. He nudged his horse’s flank and rode forward, addressing the man in the vermilion cloak. "Major General, we’re about to enter Great Qi."

Even though he had been titled General Who Pacifies the North, the border troops still habitually called him "Major General."

The man held the reins with one hand, squinting toward Yan Capital as he lazily acknowledged.

His high ponytail swayed in the wind, and within it, a braided strand was adorned with a jade bead resembling a red bean.

Author’s Note:

An insecure dog with negative sense of security: Red bean, red bean, red bean, red bean, red bean…