Chapter 70: Jing Lan

Chapter 70: Jing Lan

The day the delegations from various nations arrived in Great Qi was the fifth day of the third lunar month, early spring.

Spring was in full bloom, and the sky was exceptionally clear. Many citizens of Yandu, curious about people from foreign lands, flocked to line the official roads to watch the spectacle. For a time, the streets were so crowded it seemed the entire city had emptied out.

This year was different from previous ones. In the past, the celebrations lasted fifteen days, but for some unknown reason, they had been shortened to just seven this year.

If they didn't seize the opportunity to watch today, they might not get another chance.

Qiao Wan stayed inside the Gold and Silver Studio, smiling helplessly as she looked at the empty shop and the bustling crowd outside.

Yicui was feeling unwell that day, and both the embroiderers and the accountant had curiously gone outside to watch the show.

Qiao Wan smiled helplessly. In the past, she had been one of those being watched—the important figures sat inside ornate carriages, their faces never even visible, while only their guards remained outside. What was so exciting about that?

In the next moment, Qiao Wan suddenly thought of something, and her smile faded slightly. She picked up the bronze mirror beside her and, for who knows how many times, studied her eyebrows.

That morning, Mu Chi had, on a whim, insisted on drawing her eyebrows for her.

His work was exquisite, but since it wasn't her own handiwork, Qiao Wan couldn't help but check it repeatedly.

A few murmurs of excitement came from the crowd outside, and Qiao Wan instinctively glanced out, catching only a fleeting glimpse of a figure in red riding a tall horse.

Qiao Wan froze, set down the mirror, and unconsciously took a few steps toward the entrance.

The procession had already moved forward, and the carriages blocked her view of the figure. She could only catch glimpses of a crimson-red back, one hand holding the reins, radiating confidence and spirit.

Qiao Wan frowned deeply, then chuckled to herself, thinking she must have been mistaken.

Meanwhile, in the Great Qi palace.

Mu Chi sat on the high throne, dressed in black ceremonial robes, his ink-black hair tied high, with two golden jade ribbons cascading from it. His fair complexion appeared noble and aloof, his skin like ice and jade, as if meticulously sculpted.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the side of the throne, pale and cold, his expression impassive.

Only Si Li, standing nearby, knew that this was a sign of the prince’s inner unease and restlessness.

From the outer hall, the voice of a eunuch announced the arrival of envoys from various nations, the sound echoing layer by layer into the golden hall.

Mu Chi’s eyes remained slightly narrowed, as if indifferent.

The envoys entered the golden hall one by one, paid their respects, and took their seats.

It wasn’t until the announcement—“Envoy from the Li Kingdom enters the hall!”—that Mu Chi unconsciously straightened up, his hand gripping the side of the throne tightly as he watched a group of people slowly enter the hall.

At the forefront was the envoy from the Li Kingdom, and beside him, Jing Lan strode in wearing a robe of hibiscus-red silk, his long hair tied high into a ponytail, with an extra strand hanging down over his left forehead. Compared to his former playful and frivolous self, he now seemed more composed.

The envoy bowed, performing the Great Qi salute: “The envoy from the Li Kingdom pays respects to the Emperor and the Crown Prince.”

The others behind him followed suit in paying their respects.

The Li Kingdom was, after all, a major power in the south, and the Emperor quickly granted them seats.

But Jing Lan, who had originally bowed in salute, raised his head the moment he stood up and glanced toward the throne, his gaze intense.

Mu Chi met his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Jing Lan’s red attire.

Back then, in the Lingjing palace, he had stood beside Qiao Wan wearing similar red robes—red as fire, like a wedding gown.

A wave of fury rose abruptly in Mu Chi’s eyes, his previously expressionless face turning dark and terrifying, emanating waves of cold intensity.

Yet, in the next moment, Jing Lan took his seat along with the others. As he turned, the high ponytail behind him swayed slightly.

At the end of one finely braided strand, embedded in the tail of the ponytail, was a red jade bead.

It looked exactly like a red bean.

Mu Chi stared fixedly at that red bead, feeling a pang in his chest.

—Qiao Wan wore a similar red bead.

Red beans symbolized longing.

She had said as much when she gifted him a pair of red bean jade pendants back then.

Now, however, she and Jing Lan had both, as if by coincidence, taken to wearing them.

Did she miss Jing Lan?

Mu Chi’s heart sank endlessly, as if plummeting into an abyss, overwhelmed by an intense sense of suffocation.

*

Due to everyone going out to watch the spectacle, business at the Gold and Silver Studio was rather slow.

The pastries set out for guests to sample remained unfinished, so Qiao Wan shared some with the accountant and the embroiderers. She also kept a few of her favorite chestnut cakes, wrapping them in oiled paper and tucking them into her sleeve before returning home.

After checking on Yicui and visiting Wu Jiu, who was reviewing his lessons, Qiao Wan finally returned to the side courtyard.

Lv Luo had already prepared the evening meal and brewed the medicine. After finishing both, Qiao Wan sat at her dressing table, illuminated by the bright light of the candle stand, and began to let her hair down.

But her thoughts drifted to the red figure she had seen during the day, and she found herself lost in contemplation.

The Li Kingdom, Lingjing.

Those past events felt as though they had happened in a previous lifetime.

Yet, when confronted with such proximity, she realized that the place where she had grown up was not something she could simply forget.

She had no desire to return to that gilded cage, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t occasionally reminisce.

“Crown Prince.” Lv Luo’s voice, filled with trepidation, suddenly rang out.

Qiao Wan snapped out of her reverie and turned to look toward the door. To her surprise, she noticed that Mu Chi had not changed out of his ceremonial robes today. He still wore them, smelling faintly of wine, and was quietly watching her.

Qiao Wan met his gaze, her expression puzzled. “What is it?”

Mu Chi didn’t speak, only stared fixedly at Qiao Wan’s fiery red attire and the gold hairpin adorned with a red jade bead in her hair, his throat tightening.

All along the way, he had wanted to ask if she had switched to wearing this hairpin with the red jade bead because she was thinking of Jing Lan. But now, seeing her, he felt hesitant.

He was afraid that once he spoke, all the happiness he had experienced so far would vanish like trying to hold the moon in water or touching snow—disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Qiao Wan waited for a long time without Mu Chi saying anything, so she simply turned back to continue taking down her hair. However, while removing a kingfisher feather hairpin, she accidentally snagged a few strands of hair. Frowning, she tried several times to untangle them without success. Just as she was about to pull it off forcefully, her hand was grasped by a cold one, and the scent of wine enveloped her.

Qiao Wan was startled. “You’ve been drinking?”

Mu Chi hummed in affirmation, stepping forward to take over for her. He quietly untangled the strands of hair from the pin’s floral design and continued to remove the rest of her hairpins one by one, placing them on the table.

Qiao Wan glanced at him in the bronze mirror’s reflection. “Did you drink at the palace banquet?”

Mu Chi's hand stilled for a moment, but he still answered quietly.

Qiao Wan pressed her lips together and asked after a moment of silence, "Has anyone... come from Lingjing?"

Mu Chi had just finished taking down her hair and was sliding out the red bean-adorned gold hairpin that secured her bun when her question made his movements still.

He watched the red jade beads dangling beneath the hairpin swaying faintly, then said after a long while, offhandedly, "Just some low-ranking officials of no consequence."

Hearing this, Qiao Wan's eyes darkened.

She knew well that a new reign brings new courtiers. With the new ruler ascending the throne in the Li Kingdom, it was only natural for him to replace officials with his own trusted aides.

That Lingjing was probably no longer the familiar city she once knew.

Seeing her downcast look, Mu Chi's fingers gave a slight tremble, and he even held his breath.

Perhaps noticing his continued stillness, Qiao Wan turned slightly to look at him.

Mu Chi quietly placed the gold hairpin on the dressing table, and his eyes fell on the jade butterfly pearl hairpin nearby. He asked, trying to sound casual, "Why aren't you wearing that hairpin?"

"Hmm?" Qiao Wan followed his gaze, then pouted. "That hairpin doesn't suit me."

Especially not with the dress she was wearing.

Mu Chi looked at her.

So, it was only because the jade hairpin didn't suit her, not because she disliked it.

Mu Chi gave a soft "mm" in response, watching as her dark hair spilled down. His eyes went distant.

After a long moment, he leaned down and embraced her, resting his chin in the hollow of her shoulder. His arms tightened around her, and he nuzzled into her neck.

Caught off guard by the sudden gesture, Qiao Wan was about to push him away when she heard him call out hoarsely, "Princess..." His voice laced with desperation.

Qiao Wan sat frozen, feeling something in her heart give way.

She quickly snapped out of it, pressed her lips together, and frowned. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

Mu Chi only held her tighter, saying nothing.

Qiao Wan fell silent, considering calling someone to bring tea for Mu Chi but worried about being seen in such a compromising position. As she raised her hand, she discovered the chestnut pastries in her sleeve.

She took out the chestnut pastries and pressed them into the hand he had wrapped around her. "Let go."

Mu Chi stayed frozen for a while before finally lifting his head to look at the oil-paper package in his hand. Catching the faint sweet scent, he asked dazedly, "You... got these for me?"

"They were for guests at Gold and Silver Pavilion," Qiao Wan snapped.

Mu Chi quietly gazed at the chestnut pastries.

So, she had brought these back from Gold and Silver Pavilion for him.

Did that mean she still thought of him after all?

As long as Jing Lan left, just seven more days, then they could go back to how things were before.

*

The next day, Qiao Wan went to Gold and Silver Pavilion early again.

These days, envoys from various countries were competing at the hunting grounds. The competition would conclude in four days, followed by a grand ceremony, to which scions of noble families were all invited.

During this time, Qiao Wan's Gold and Silver Pavilion had welcomed many distinguished guests shopping for luxurious attire and jewelry.

On the day of the ceremony, the shop was much quieter, with few visitors. Not long after the late afternoon, Qiao Wan bid farewell to the accountant and left early.

The setting sun cast a reddish light over the bustling capital of Yan.

Qiao Wan squinted at the sunset before preparing to continue on her way.

Just then, a sharp crack of a whip sliced through the air, and a figure clad in a worn raincoat and hat drifted lightly toward her.

Startled, Qiao Wan instinctively sidestepped.

The figure abruptly cracked the whip sideways, aiming for her again.

Qiao Wan hastily retreated two steps but froze when she caught sight of the large ruby embedded in the gold-edged handle of the whip. She stood rooted to the spot. "Who are you?"

The whip, however, seemed to have a mind of its own, swerving past her without touching her, followed by a teasing laugh.

"Qiao Wan, why is your whip technique still as awful as ever?"

Qiao Wan stared in shock as the figure reached up and removed the worn raincoat and hat, tossing them aside disdainfully.

Beneath the raincoat, robes of deep red were revealed, cinched at the waist with a black belt. His ink-black hair was tied high, his eyebrows and eyes exuding arrogance, with a braid hanging down his front adorned with red jade beads—still every bit the dashing and spirited figure.

Except, a strand of hair fell across his temple, beneath which lay a one-inch-long dark red scar.

Qiao Wan stared at him in a daze. "Jing Lan?"

"Not bad, you still remember my name," Jing Lan sauntered leisurely toward her, his steps halting when his gaze landed on the palm-long scar on her hand. "So ugly."

Qiao Wan shot a glare at the scar on his temple. "Likewise."

Jing Lan didn't retort further, only scrutinizing her carefully. After a long moment, he let out a cold laugh, though his eyes reddened, and his voice grew slightly hoarse. "Qiao Wan, have you risen from the dead?"