Chapter 74: Farewell

Chapter 74: Farewell

By the time Qiao Wan, her mind swirling with doubts, followed Si Li to the Eastern Palace, an incense stick had already burned down.

Mu Chi’s blood could neutralize poison, yet he himself was poisoned?

However one heard it, the matter seemed utterly preposterous.

The Eastern Palace appeared more imposing than her former princess manor, though it lacked the same extravagance.

Turning past the front halls and reaching the bedchamber, she heard a series of coughs before even stepping inside.

It didn’t sound feigned.

Qiao Wan’s suspicions eased slightly as she entered the chamber, immediately met by a strong, metallic scent.

She paused, her gaze falling on the figures within. Imperial Physician Song Pan stood to one side, while Mu Chi reclined on a daybed, his dark hair disheveled, his eyes tired and slightly narrowed. His face was ghostly pale, save for his lips, which were stained with dark red blood—eerie yet morbidly alluring.

It wasn’t an act; he was genuinely poisoned.

And it looked severe.

Qiao Wan pressed her lips together, her heart inexplicably tightening.

"Young master," Si Li whispered, stepping forward.

Mu Chi didn’t respond, his gaze fixed intently on Qiao Wan. After a long moment, he covered his mouth and coughed hoarsely twice; a clean silk handkerchief instantly stained with black-red blood.

Qiao Wan’s expression shifted subtly.

Observing her every reaction, Mu Chi couldn’t help but feel a flicker of joy—she still cared about him, didn’t she?

Even if… only a little.

Mu Chi clenched the handkerchief and looked at Si Li, his voice raspy as he "chided," "Didn’t I tell you not to inform anyone else?"

Si Li fell silent, lowering his eyes to accept blame. "Please forgive me, young master."

"Why blame Si Li?" Qiao Wan frowned, pausing as she met his deathly pale face, then added awkwardly, "How are you? How did you get poisoned?"

Hearing her defend Si Li, Mu Chi glanced at him from the corner of his eye before listlessly lowering his gaze and letting out a self-mocking laugh. "I have many enemies; countless people wish me dead."

Upon hearing this, Imperial Physician Song and Si Li bowed their heads even lower, standing quietly to the side without a word.

Qiao Wan thought of the past court upheavals in Lingjing, and her last trace of doubt vanished.

She thought, Mu Chi wouldn’t truly joke with his own life.

"What poison did you take?"

Mu Chi glanced at Song Pan.

Song Pan hurriedly cupped his hands toward Qiao Wan. "His Highness has been poisoned with arsenic. This toxin damages the internal organs, causes severe pain throughout the body, and induces continuous vomiting of blood. Fortunately, it was discovered early. If it had been any later…" As he spoke, Song Pan cautiously glanced at Mu Chi.

Mu Chi coughed muffledly, his voice slightly hoarse. "It’s fine." Then he looked up at Qiao Wan. "Did I interfere with your plans?"

Hearing he was alright and remembering he felt no pain, Qiao Wan finally relaxed.

If anything happened to Mu Chi, aside from everything else, her future medicinal fumigations alone would become difficult.

Qiao Wan shook her head. "It’s fine."

Mu Chi forced a faint smile, lowering his eyes, his long eyelashes trembling slightly as he asked softly, "Then… could you stay with me a little longer?" He asked with extreme caution.

Qiao Wan was taken aback, seemingly never expecting Mu Chi to make such a request. But she was soft-hearted rather than tough; seeing him like this, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

At the same time, Mu Chi began coughing violently again, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Qiao Wan hurried forward two steps, pressing her lips together before saying, "I’ll stay."

Mu Chi’s eyes brightened, shifting to make room on the daybed for her to sit. "It won’t take too long. Song Pan said I should recover by around the hour of Shen."

The envoys from the Li Kingdom would depart at noon.

Qiao Wan murmured in acknowledgment. After a moment’s thought, she quietly picked up a silk handkerchief nearby and handed it to him.

Mu Chi’s eyes lit with surprise, but then he hesitated. "For me?"

Qiao Wan said impatiently, "Who else?"

Mu Chi looked at her and slowly smiled. He took the handkerchief, watching her as he quietly wiped the blood from his lips.

The chamber gradually grew silent. Mu Chi gazed at the woman sitting before him, keeping him company, and his lips curved unconsciously.

The poison he had taken now seemed not like poison but rather like drinking honeyed water, threads of sweetness seeping into his heart.

"Sorry," he suddenly said softly.

Qiao Wan was puzzled. "Hmm?"

Mu Chi looked at her. "Today is, after all, the day the envoys from the Li Kingdom leave Yan Capital. I’ve kept you from going."

Qiao Wan shook her head. "It’s fine."

Seeing her completely unconcerned expression, Mu Chi’s joy grew even more. But before he could show it, Qiao Wan added, "Jing Lan sent word yesterday that they won’t set off until a quarter past the hour of Shen. There’s still time."

The smile on Mu Chi’s lips froze; he sat motionless in place.

"What?" Qiao Wan looked at him.

Mu Chi pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head. "That’s… good."

Qiao Wan gave him a puzzled look but said nothing more.

As the hour of Shen approached, Mu Chi’s condition indeed improved; he no longer vomited blood, though he remained pale and very weak.

Just as Qiao Wan was about to leave the Eastern Palace, Mu Chi suddenly whispered, "Can you stay?"

His voice was so soft Qiao Wan thought she had misheard.

She glanced at him, seeing him bow his head, his snow-white skin as fragile as cicada wings, as if he had said nothing.

Qiao Wan looked at Si Li. "Si Li is here to take care of you."

With that, she stood and walked out.

Mu Chi remained seated, watching her figure disappear. He stared for a long time before suddenly coughing again, coughing until it felt like his heart would tear apart.

*

Qiao Wan did not go to the post station, nor did she wait on the main road where Jing Lan would depart. She only had the coachman drive her to the city gate.

The gates of Yandu stood tall and imposing, with streams of people coming and going beneath, bustling and lively.

Qiao Wan sat quietly on the second floor of a teahouse inside the city gates, watching the passing crowds through the open window.

As the sun set in the west, a procession on horseback slowly approached from the distant official road. The one leading them still wore an eye-catching crimson robe, his dark hair tied high, and with each jolt of the horse, the red jade beads in its tail swayed rhythmically.

Qiao Wan watched as Jing Lan drew nearer. His gaze swept around as if searching for something, finally calming down after someone beside him spoke.

Qiao Wan’s eyes fell on the banner with the character "Li."

Those days of riding through the streets of Lingjing, carefree and lively, felt as though they had happened just yesterday, yet in the blink of an eye, they had already become the past.

Qiao Wan watched as they arrived beneath the city gates and gradually faded into the distance. After a long while, she let out a soft laugh and finished her tea.

She stepped out of the teahouse slowly but froze in the doorway.

Jing Lan, who had just left with the procession, now stood outside the teahouse, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her.

After a moment, he laughed. "What? Afraid to see me?"

Qiao Wan lifted her chin defiantly. "As if I would be! I was afraid the Major General wouldn’t want to leave."

Jing Lan fell silent for a while before walking up to her. "Qiao Wan, you’re so spoiled and headstrong—I ought to be glad you didn’t come with me!"

"Jing Lan!" Qiao Wan glared at him.

But Jing Lan suddenly laughed. "Still not holding back my words, am I?"

Qiao Wan was surprised, her gaze drifting for a moment. Back in Lingjing, on the day they parted, she had said those very words.

She had said: Jing Lan, why can’t you ever hold back your words?

Jing Lan’s eyes traced her features slowly, as if trying to carve her into his memory. "Holding my tongue never did any good, Qiao Wan."

Four years at Lingshan—even when trapped by enemy forces on a small hilltop, he had never cursed or complained. Yet in the end, what wasn’t his still wasn’t his.

Qiao Wan’s throat tightened, unsure what to say.

"Actually… you’re not that spoiled or headstrong," Jing Lan said softly.

Qiao Wan’s eyes warmed. She pursed her lips and said disdainfully, "Took you long enough to figure that out."

Jing Lan looked at her and laughed too. "Yeah, just realized."

Qiao Wan stared at him steadily. Behind her, the bustling streets and lively noise filled the air. She smiled. "Safe travels."

Jing Lan’s fingers paused. After a long silence, he let out an "Mm" and said, "I’m leaving."

With that, he turned to stride away.

Qiao Wan watched his retreating figure, forcing her eyes to stay open before quickly lowering her head as an uncontrollable sadness welled up.

But the next moment, a flash of crimson appeared in her vision.

Qiao Wan looked up in surprise, only to be pulled into a warm, firm embrace.

Jing Lan held her tightly, his voice raspy. "Qiao Wan, those yuanxiao from New Year’s Eve back then… they weren’t actually that good…"

Qiao Wan’s throat felt thick. "Hey…" Her voice was muffled.

Jing Lan chuckled softly. "But I liked them…"

"Qiao Wan."

Qiao Wan stood there frozen.

After what felt like a long time, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from afar.

Jing Lan released her and looked toward the distant official road.

Several ornate carriages arrived one after another, escorted by dozens of armored guards. At the lead was Si Li.

Qiao Wan froze.

Jing Lan noticed her reaction and glanced at the dark carriage. After a moment of silence, he laughed. "Qiao Wan, let me tell you a secret…"

His voice was soft, and he said just a few words.

Qiao Wan listened in stunned silence.

The black carriage came to a halt, and Mu Chi stepped out. His face pale, he walked to Qiao Wan’s side. "General Jing." As he spoke, his hand absentmindedly brushed the scar on his left hand.

Jing Lan followed the movement, then paused, his eyes shifting to the scar on the back of Qiao Wan’s right hand.

Two nearly identical scars.

"This lowly official is unworthy of Your Highness seeing me off personally," Jing Lan said, raising an eyebrow, his composure returning.

Mu Chi’s eyes stung at the sight of Jing Lan’s crimson robe. He looked away slightly to avoid the vivid red and said, "I came to return some things to General Jing."

As he spoke, he glanced sideways.

Soon, soldiers carried forward chests tied with faded silk ribbons, though the silk had long since faded from years of wear, turning pale.

Qiao Wan gradually came back to herself, looking at the chests before frowning in Mu Chi’s direction.

These… were the betrothal gifts Jing Lan had given her back then.

After the Jing family fell, they had never been reclaimed.

She had thought Mu Chi had donated these along with her 200,000 taels back in Lingjing.

Jing Lan also recognized the items. He looked quietly for a long time before suddenly laughing. "Since Your Highness has brought them, I’ll accept them." He looked at Qiao Wan. "See? You really are out of luck."

Qiao Wan pursed her lips.

"But…" Jing Lan glanced at Mu Chi and said deliberately, "When you’re better, come to Lingshan again."

"The skies are high, the seas vast—it’s much more interesting than this dump of a city like Yandu."

With that, Jing Lan gave her one last deep look and turned to leave.

Qiao Wan watched his retreating figure until that bright crimson disappeared beyond the city gates.

This time, he didn’t look back.

After what felt like a long time, Qiao Wan’s hand was gripped by a cold hand.

"Qiao Wan." Mu Chi said anxiously, remembering that nightmare—afraid he’d have to watch her leave with Jing Lan right before his eyes, just as in the dream.

Qiao Wan turned her head to look at him, Jing Lan’s earlier words echoed in her mind.

Jing Lan said that the one who forced the late emperor to issue the edict, "If the new emperor proves incompetent, a virtuous successor shall be chosen," it was Mu Chi.

The one who suppressed the military revolt in Lingjing and stabilized the court, it was also Mu Chi.

Minister Wen witnessed with his own eyes that the person who had intended to turn everything into a hell on earth once murmured softly, almost to himself: "You wish for peace under heaven; I will learn to be a wise ruler..."

Her hand was suddenly squeezed tightly, and Qiao Wan, startled by the pain, snapped back to reality. Only then did she realize that she had unknowingly gotten into the carriage.

Mu Chi sat beside her, still holding her hand, his gaze locked on her as though afraid she might vanish.

Qiao Wan frowned, "Let go of my hand. I won’t leave."

Mu Chi’s eyes lit up slightly at her words, and he asked hoarsely, "Not leaving?"

Qiao Wan was stunned, then annoyed with herself by her own words, added, "There are still a hundred days left in the six-month period."

The light in Mu Chi’s eyes faded, but then he thought—for these hundred days, she would be entirely his to look upon, with no one else around.

Mu Chi smiled in response, "Mm."