Chapter 87: If Line 4

Chapter 87 Alternate Timeline 4

◎"Why didn't you come find me?"◎

The victory celebration banquet was set for the twenty-first of the twelfth lunar month. Being so close to New Year’s Eve, it was combined with the palace banquet, and officials were granted leave on New Year’s Eve itself.

On the day of the victory banquet, Qiao Heng specifically dispatched a palanquin to bring Qiao Wan into the palace.

In this life, Qiao Wan was in good health, so she had no excuse to decline.

When she had first been reborn, Qiao Heng had already summoned her. Seeing him again now felt peculiar.

Perhaps knowing he had only a few years left to live—and that he would die coughing up blood—she felt no sorrow, no resentment, nor any nostalgia. Instead, she was completely at peace.

Now, meeting again at the palace banquet, her heart was as calm as still water.

Still, appearances had to be maintained. Following the demeanor from her previous life, Qiao Wan paid her respects to Qiao Heng before taking her seat.

Across from her were the seats of Qiao Qingni and Seventh Prince Qiao Yan.

Qiao Wan listened as the civil and military officials hailed His Majesty and praised Jing Lan for his youthful charm and high spirits, proclaiming him a future pillar of the nation. The more she listened, the more bored she grew; even the singing and dancing performances at the palace banquet were more engaging.

What was strange, though, was Jing Lan. Several times, when Qiao Wan inadvertently glanced toward the lower seats, she met his gaze—faint yet inquiring, as if he were studying her.

After a moment of serious thought, Qiao Wan recalled that in this life, she had only interacted with Jing Lan twice: once at the Songzhu Pavilion, where they parted unhappily, and again at the Yuxiu Pavilion, with similarly unpleasant results.

Given that, it would be a miracle if he didn’t dislike her.

And at this point, he must still admire her third elder sister.

Having figured this out, Qiao Wan looked up and once again met Jing Lan’s lingering, deep gaze. She paused, widened her eyes, and returned a glare.

Jing Lan stiffened, then snorted coldly and looked away irritably.

Qiao Wan raised an eyebrow. So this fop had been staring at her for no reason.

The palace banquet continued. Suddenly, Qiao Yan across from her spoke up: "Your Majesty, you have always loved the sounds of the guqin. Today, I have specially invited a guqin master to play a beautiful melody for you."

At that moment, Qiao Wan was holding a cup of tea, pondering how to escape from the banquet. Hearing Qiao Yan’s words, her hand stilled, and the teacup wobbled.

Her intuition told her the guqin master must be Mu Chi.

Thinking back now, in her previous life, during the palace rebellion, Mu Chi had immediately recognized the locations of the Taiyi Palace and Linhua Palace—he’d even known her Changle Palace clearly. He must have visited the palace before and memorized its layout.

It seemed the victory banquet was the opportune moment.

The hall fell into dead silence. Qiao Wan looked up and indeed saw a figure with raven black hair and white robes walking slowly toward them. Cloaked in snow, with a face like jade, his dark eyes reflected the splendid palace around him, as if a snowy mist had just cleared and a hundred flowers were blooming in full splendor.

He lifted his gaze slightly and immediately caught Qiao Wan’s eyes.

Qiao Wan was stunned. No matter when, Mu Chi’s face remained eternally beautiful. But remembering his coldness in this life, she angrily averted her eyes and refused to look at him again.

Mu Chi’s brow furrowed slightly. He stepped forward, bowed in respect, and then moved to the side to play the guqin.

He performed the latter part of "Frost Mountain Dawn," the most difficult section.

Qiao Wan was taken aback. In her previous life, it was Qiao Qingni who played "Frost Mountain Dawn" at the palace banquet, but this time it was Mu Chi.

What about Qiao Qingni? Had Mu Chi not given the musical score for "Frost Mountain Dawn" to Qiao Qingni?

Qiao Wan instinctively glanced at Qiao Qingni, who, like the other officials, was intently listening to the music.

The music lingered in the hall, exquisitely beautiful.

Even someone like Qiao Wan, who didn’t particularly enjoy playing the guqin, had to admit that.

After he finished, the officials remained silent for a long moment before applause finally erupted.

Qiao Heng looked at Mu Chi, then turned to Qiao Yan. "Is this the guqin master named Mu Chi?"

Qiao Yan hurriedly replied, "Yes."

After a moment of silence, Qiao Heng glanced meaningfully at Qiao Wan. "I’ve heard Little Eleven is quite interested in this guqin master as well?"

Qiao Wan blinked, then raised an eyebrow and laughed brightly. "Your Majesty, you’re joking with Qiao Wan again. Qiao Wan isn’t familiar with this guqin master at all."

Below, Mu Chi’s hand, still resting on the strings, tightened. He lifted his gaze slightly to look at Qiao Wan in her red robes.

Just a few days ago, she had applied medicine to his wounds and allowed him to rest in the outer room of her palace. Now she claimed she wasn’t familiar with him.

"Not familiar?" Qiao Heng pressed.

Qiao Wan nodded seriously. "Not familiar."

Seeing that Qiao Heng still didn’t believe her, Qiao Wan added, "Your Majesty, you know Qiao Wan has always disliked the refined arts—guqin, chess, calligraphy, and painting. No matter how likable someone is, if they’re associated with these cultured pursuits, Qiao Wan dislikes them intensely."

By the end, she even wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Mu Chi had already lowered his gaze, his hands unconsciously clenching. He stared at the guqin before him, suddenly feeling as if it had become ugly and disgusting.

It was as if every pluck of the strings, every glance, was Qiao Wan saying, "I detest him."

Qiao Heng said nothing more, only uttering, "Grant him a reward," before dismissing Mu Chi. Then he turned to Jing Lan in the lower seats. "Jing Lan doesn’t seem to like scholarly things either?"

Mu Chi, who had been walking toward the exit, paused mid-step at the mention of Jing Lan’s name. An inexplicable irritation surged within him.

There were so many military officials who couldn’t read—why did Qiao Heng single out Jing Lan?

Jing Lan, having been called upon, stood up and cupped his hands with a smile. "Your Majesty wrongs me. The gift I’ve prepared for you today is a rare antique painting."

As soon as he finished speaking, two palace attendants approached carrying trays. On them were several aged scrolls, and beside them lay a piece of cut xuan paper inscribed with the words: "Respectfully presented by Jing Lan."

Mu Chi walked past the two attendants, his eyes sweeping over the words "Respectfully presented by Jing Lan." His body stiffened slightly.

The handwriting was identical to that on the invitation left on Qiao Wan’s desk that night.

Was that invitation written by Jing Lan?

Did she come to the palace banquet because Jing Lan invited her?

Qiao Wan had also sent letters to the Jing residence. Thinking back now, it seemed they had been writing to each other.

So, was Jing Lan the one she was interested in?

Was Jing Lan the person she had been looking at through him that night?

But the way she looked at Jing Lan was so different from the gaze full of longing she had given him that night.

Mu Chi suddenly coughed lightly, a sour pain churning in his chest, and an unbearable emotion welled up from the depths of his heart.

It stung a little.

The words "not familiar" from Qiao Wan earlier, along with the identical handwriting on the note and the xuan paper, kept flashing before his eyes.

But he felt it shouldn’t be like this.

How could they not be familiar? She had applied medicine for him several times, seen him half-naked, even let him stay overnight in her bedchamber…

Was this "not familiar"?

If she were an ordinary woman, she would have demanded he make an honest woman of her long ago.

"Sir, are you alright?" Si Li, in disguise to rendezvous with him in the palace, stepped forward and asked in a low voice.

Mu Chi was lost in thought for a long while before slowly coming back to himself. He pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head without saying a word.

But half an hour later, after finishing his nocturnal reconnaissance of the palace, as Mu Chi scaled the palace wall to leave, he spotted Qiao Wan’s carriage at the palace gate, with Jing Lan riding as her guard.

Mu Chi stood atop the palace wall, glaring at the carriage and the figure on horseback, unmoving for a long time.

*

Not long after Mu Chi left, Qiao Wan pleaded illness and left early from the banquet.

As in the previous life’s New Year’s Eve banquet, Qiao Heng insinuated that Jing Lan should escort her.

Now, sitting inside the carriage and listening to the sound of hooves outside, Qiao Wan was baffled.

Her interactions with Jing Lan were few and far between, so his agreement to escort her was unexpected. Fortunately, he remained silent the entire way, and Qiao Wan did the same. When they reached the princess’s residence, Qiao Wan alighted from the carriage and was about to enter.

"Princess Changle," Jing Lan suddenly called out to her.

Qiao Wan stiffened, turning around in confusion. In the next moment, a horsewhip came at her, half in jest, half in earnest.

Qiao Wan dodged it just in time. Fortunately, Jing Lan didn’t follow up, merely holding the whip as he stood not far from her.

Qiao Wan glared at him angrily. "What is the meaning of this, Major General Jing?"

"That’s what I should be asking you, Princess Changle," Jing Lan said, walking up to her and circling her. "Why do you know the Jing family’s martial arts?"

"What Jing family…" Qiao Wan suddenly realized and scowled at him.

He had been testing her!

"Hmm?" Jing Lan raised an eyebrow.

Qiao Wan snapped, "How would I know it’s the Jing family’s martial arts? Perhaps General Dingguo instructed me during his visits to the palace."

"Impossible," Jing Lan snorted. "That old man couldn’t even be bothered to teach me, let alone anyone else."

"Besides, the Jing family’s martial arts are rarely shared with outsiders."

Qiao Wan was taken aback, surprised by these rules of the Jing family.

Seeing her silence, Jing Lan didn’t press the issue further. After a moment, he asked, "How did you know about the bandits on Qingyun Mountain?"

Qiao Wan blinked, feigning ignorance. "What bandits?"

"Stop pretending," Jing Lan said lazily, pulling a letter from his sleeve. "The ink on this letter is an imperial-grade product, only available to those in the palace. And though the handwriting is messy, it’s clearly a woman’s."

Qiao Wan’s heart sank. "Maybe it was Third Sister…"

"Princess Zhaoyang’s handwriting…" Jing Lan paused, looking at her, "isn’t nearly this sloppy."

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

Jing Lan shrugged. "Just calling it as I see it." He tucked the letter away. "Now, Princess Changle, care to explain? How did you know about this?"

Qiao Wan was quiet for a moment. "I had a dream."

Jing Lan looked puzzled.

"I dreamed you died on Qingyun Mountain, a brutal end—your eyeballs even fell out…"

"Qiao Wan!" Jing Lan interrupted, his face darkening.

Qiao Wan frowned, thinking seriously for a moment. "Alright, in the dream, you didn’t die."

Jing Lan studied her intently.

"You were just ambushed by bandits. One nearly stabbed you in the heart, but I took a risk and saved your life," Qiao Wan said, glancing at him. "After that, you became madly in love with me, and even…"

"Who’s madly in love with you!" Jing Lan snapped, as if stepping on his tail.

"But it’s true," Qiao Wan said seriously. "After I woke up, I thought about it. A life is still a life, after all, so I decided to warn you, even if I didn’t know whether it was real or not. Especially since, in the dream, Major General Jing was so head over heels for me…"

"I am not in love with you!" Jing Lan interjected quickly again.

Qiao Wan looked at him suspiciously.

Jing Lan met her gaze, fell silent for a few breaths, then turned and walked toward his horse. "I must be out of my mind to even ask you…"

With that, he swung onto his horse and galloped away quickly.

Qiao Wan watched his figure disappear into the night, then smiled faintly after a long moment.

This bold and reckless figure was far more pleasing to the eye than the heavy, weighed-down one she had watched leave in Yandu back then.

Qiao Wan shrugged and turned to head into her bedchamber.

But the moment she closed the door, a voice came from inside. "Not familiar?"

Qiao Wan was startled, taking a moment to calm down before she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

The person sitting quietly on the daybed in the outer room was none other than Mu Chi.

Mu Chi didn’t speak, only looked at her quietly and repeated, "We’re not familiar?"

Qiao Wan frowned. "Are we familiar?"

Mu Chi’s eyelashes trembled slightly. "Would Princess Changle undress and apply medicine for someone she’s not familiar with? Would she let someone she’s not familiar with stay overnight in the same room?"

Qiao Wan was taken aback, looking at him strangely. "Why do you care about that?"

"At the Songzhu Pavilion, didn’t you want to follow Third Sister?"

Mu Chi’s face paled. He pressed his lips together tightly and, after a long silence, turned and left without a word, disappearing through the window like a flash of white light.

Qiao Wan looked at the half-open window and snorted softly.

This little brat in this lifetime is truly strange.

She walked forward, closed the window, and gazed absently at the charcoal brazier, its flames flickering.

The Lunar New Year was almost here.

On the other side.

Mu Chi returned to his residence still restless and agitated, his chest feeling as if tightly clenched by an invisible force.

In the center of his bedroom stood a fine zither. It was a gift from Qiao Yan, who had sought it out for him to practice in his leisure time after learning of his identity. Yet now, it seemed particularly grating, as Qiao Wan’s words echoed in his mind: "I hate the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting—I loathe anything overly refined."

It felt as though every word was bluntly telling him that she despised him.

Mu Chi relaxed his hand slightly, and a dagger from his sleeve fell into his palm. After a long silence, he suddenly raised his hand.

In an instant, the zither strings snapped, emitting several piercing, dissonant twangs.

When Si Li rushed in, the sudden sound of the zither startled him, making him stumble slightly. After steadying himself, he cautiously reported that the palace schematics had been completed.

Mu Chi did not respond.

After a pause, Si Li added, "Young master, you should return to Chuzhou."

Mu Chi knew he ought to return—more important matters were waiting for him.

Yet, a part of him fought desperately against it, screaming for him to stay.

And then... a clear, playful, cheerful voice saying, "Mu Chi, let’s eat dumplings and watch the fireworks together!"

The voice sounded hauntingly familiar.

But he knew well—she had never said those words to him.

"Young master?" Si Li called out to him.

Mu Chi’s gaze shifted, falling upon the dagger beside his hand.

Then he spoke: "Yanming Mountain is a necessary route. In a few days, during the Li Kingdom’s mountain sacrifice ceremony, it will be the perfect opportunity to scout the terrain."

*

In her previous life, after Qiao Wan married Mu Chi, every New Year’s Eve he would free up his time early, busying himself with making dumplings from scratch, allowing no one else to help.

Once the steaming dumplings were ready, it would be time for the fireworks to light up the sky. He would hold her, watching the fireworks, eating dumplings, and calling her name softly, again and again.

Just like countless ordinary households.

Yet in this life, as Qiao Wan looked around the sprawling princess manor, she felt a wave of loneliness for the first time since her rebirth.

But she still had to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

As usual, Qiao Wan made dumplings with Yicui, listening to her share amusing stories and joining in the laughter.

Once the dumplings were wrapped, Yicui went to boil them, and Qiao Wan made a special trip to the backyard to fetch a jar of wine—suddenly, she’d gotten the urge to drink.

When Qiao Wan returned to the pavilion with the wine jar, Yicui had not yet come back. After waiting a while, Qiao Wan decided to start drinking on her own.

Her alcohol tolerance was low; after three cups, she felt a burning warmth in her chest and a slight dizziness.

Qiao Wan frowned, suddenly missing the fully healthy body she had in her previous life.

It was at that moment that the sound of a snapping branch came from the base of the nearby wall.

Qiao Wan turned a moment later to look and saw Mu Chi standing beneath the wall, arms folded.

He was injured again—blood seeped between his fingers, dripping onto the ground. His pale face and dark, piercing eyes were fixed on her.

Qiao Wan blinked, looking at that familiar face. "You’re hurt again?"

Mu Chi stiffened, struck by the unexpected familiarity in her tone, so different from the distance when they last parted.

This contrast easily eased the agitation he had felt all this time.

He nodded gently. "Mhm."

Qiao Wan smiled. "Come here, then."

Mu Chi walked over and stood quietly before her.

Qiao Wan glanced up at him, still smiling, her eyes unusually lively. "Have a seat!"

Mu Chi looked at the stone stool beside them and sat down.

Qiao Wan took out a jar of White Jade ointment from her sleeve, pulled his arm over, and gently applied the medicine.

Mu Chi could clearly feel that her movements were more gentle this time than ever before, as if she were afraid of hurting him.

"How did you get so badly hurt?" Qiao Wan muttered quietly.

Mu Chi tensed slightly—if the injury were minor, she would send him away.

He pursed his lips and remained silent.

Qiao Wan didn’t wait for his response, letting out a soft sigh. "Done."

As she looked up, she froze when she saw how close his face was.

A light aroma of wine hung between them. Mu Chi saw her flushed cheeks and her eyes, intent and sparkling.

Then, she leaned toward him, little by little, until he could feel the warmth of her red lips, so close that the slightest move would let him kiss her.

Unconsciously, Mu Chi held his breath.

But Qiao Wan suddenly stopped, pausing just a breath away from him.

Then she raised her hand, her slender, soft fingertips gently touching his cheek.

Mu Chi looked at her, in a daze, he almost thought he saw deep longing in her eyes.

Qiao Wan pouted, her eyes suddenly reddening. "You brute."

Mu Chi frowned.

Qiao Wan said in a hurt voice, "Why didn’t you come find me?"

Mu Chi was taken aback, leaning back slightly to study her eyes, searching for his own reflection in her gaze.

But... though she was looking in his direction, her gaze wasn’t truly on him.

She was seeing someone else through him again.

The one she was really yearning for.

Author's Note:

The dog: Just which dog is she looking at through me?!

(While organizing the what-if scenario outline, I thought the plot wouldn’t be much, but it unexpectedly turned out longer than expected—might run a few chapters longer, huh~)