Chapter 34 “Don’t Be Angry, It’s My Fault”

Chapter 34: "Don't Be Angry, It Was My Fault"

The next morning, the entire entourage of study attendants set off in a grand procession toward the Crown Prince's residence.

As the carriage came to a halt and I stepped out, my gaze fell upon that very peach tree swaying in the breeze, just as it had years ago.

Thinking back to my first encounter with it, my heart had been filled with inexpressible youthful sentiments, a mix of heart flutters and anxiety that I couldn't voice. I had stubbornly waited at the entrance from noon until nightfall.

Now, reflecting on it, I can only see how foolishly obsessed I was, rushing headlong to be used by Xie Yan.

In my mind, I had viewed the selection of study attendants as something sordid, imagining it as a process to choose the future Crown Princess, which made me look down on the cooperation required.

Unexpectedly, the entire procedure was quite formal, with no need for disrobing or physical examinations. Most of the tests focused on literary and calligraphy skills, and Chou Yunqing's prowess was naturally unquestionable, placing first in every category.

During the tests, I kept my veil on, but as things progressed, it became unavoidable—if I were the only one not showing my face, it would appear overly conspicuous.

The steward approached me politely and asked, "Young Master Chou, are you feeling unwell? Would you like this old servant to fetch a physician for you?"

His tone was gentle and his manner respectful, making it difficult for me to claim illness dishonestly.

The steward was, in a way, an old acquaintance of mine. Three years had passed in a flash, and he seemed to have faced some hardships, with a few strands of white hair now at his temples, though his spirit remained vigorous.

I slowly removed my veil. I had long prepared myself mentally to deflect any reactions from others, but the room suddenly fell silent, punctuated by audible gasps. I could hear the distant whispers among the other study attendants.

"That son of the Xuzhou Provincial Governor we had killed was quite outstanding among us, but compared to him, he couldn't compare to even a fraction of his allure."

"No wonder he kept his veil on, unwilling to show his face easily. So he’s the one we should really be wary of. How could we have let him slip by?"

"How can two people look so alike? If Feng Jiuyue hadn’t died three years ago—and my father personally confirmed it—I would have thought he had come back to life."

"Who exactly is he? He’s far too cunning. He clearly knew his appearance was identical to that calamity from the Feng family, which is why he deliberately wore a veil to avoid conflict along the way."

"What does it matter who he is? As long as he doesn’t get in my way, and as long as the Crown Prince doesn’t take a liking to him, we can treat him like air."

"Air?"

"I’m afraid this 'air' might just be the death of us."

Indeed, removing the veil was equivalent to exposing myself to danger. But now that I was in the capital, at the Crown Prince’s mansion, I doubted they would dare cause trouble even if given ten times their courage.

"The rest of the young masters may proceed to the front hall to wait. The wind is strong here—best not catch a chill," the steward instructed, signaling the servants to lead the way. The other young masters could only follow reluctantly.

I let out a sigh of relief. Though reborn and fearless, I was still unaccustomed to being exposed to public scrutiny and disliked the hushed, malicious gossip.

The steward had clearly sent the others away because he had something to say to me. Not one to beat around the bush, I asked, "Steward, did you have something you wished to say to Yun Qing?"

Instead of answering directly, he squinted his eyes slightly, gazing distantly at the mountains as if lost in memory, and slowly began to speak.

"Young Master Chou, you are aware that you bear an uncanny resemblance to the young master of the Feng family, are you not?"

"Yes," I nodded, then asked, "What of it?"

Now inhabiting Chou Yunqing’s body, looking so much like my former self—what did it matter? Would Xie Yan let me go because of it? Or would he kill me out of disdain for this face? I didn’t know the outcome, but anything involving Xie Yan was bound to be trouble.

"Nothing much," the steward sighed deeply. "This old servant merely feels that His Highness the Crown Prince should wake from his dream. The departed are gone; the living ought to look forward."

"Speaking of which, Young Master Chou, you truly do resemble Young Master Feng. I spent some time with him—he was very likable, with a face like spring peaches but a heart as innocent as a child’s. He was well-suited to His Highness the Crown Prince, who was quite fond of him. It’s a pity he died at just nineteen. Perhaps this is what they call 'the beautiful often suffer tragic fates.'"

Did Xie Yan truly like me?

Why does everyone under heaven say Xie Yan liked me?

His "like" meant using me, causing my father’s death, and then putting on a hypocritical performance for the world? Forgive me if I cannot agree with such false, suffocating love.

"The Crown Prince’s mansion was originally very quiet; it only became lively after Young Master Feng arrived. He would walk dogs, play with cats, and act on every impulse."

"Don’t be fooled by His Highness’s cold exterior—he could scarcely bear to be separated from Young Master Feng for even a moment."

"There was a time when Young Master Feng was upset with him and didn’t come to the mansion for nearly a month. Though His Highness pretended not to care, he sent people daily to secretly inquire about his whereabouts."

"For Young Master Feng’s sake, the Crown Prince even dared to defy the Emperor’s arranged marriage. Fortunately, they reconciled later."

"I once thought their relationship was just facing trials, but who could have imagined it would end so tragically?" The steward’s eyes reddened slightly, and he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

The past events the steward spoke of felt distant to me now. If the old me had heard this, I would have leapt for joy, pestering Xie Yan to ask if he really liked me, if he couldn’t bear to be without me.

But now, hearing these words, my heart remained unmoved, as if it had nothing to do with me.

Whether Xie Yan liked me and used me, or simply used me without liking me, between us lay the life of my father. All I could offer him was hatred.

If he truly loved me, I might viciously use that love to make him suffer endlessly. Thinking this, I suddenly felt that malice might be contagious—I had become as vicious and wicked as Xie Yan.

If Xie Yan loves me, I will use that love to make him unable to live or die. I hope he loves me, loves me deeply, so I can trample all over that love, just as he trampled over mine back then.

As for the steward’s subsequent lengthy remarks, I didn’t know how to respond. I lowered my head to gaze at the fallen leaves on the ground, only looking up again when I heard the steward call my name.

The steward looked at me intently, his eyes kind and friendly, his words carrying an advisory tone.

"If His Highness the Crown Prince were to see Young Master Chou’s face, he would inevitably become emotional. But that emotion is meant for Young Master Feng. I hope Young Master Chou does not take it to heart."

I understood the steward’s meaning in an instant—he was advising me not to develop feelings for Xie Yan. Any affection Xie Yan showed me would be based solely on this appearance. Without it, I would be nothing.

"Thank you for the reminder, Steward. Yun Qing understands." I bowed respectfully to him, feeling a touch of emotion.

Though the steward had been somewhat aloof toward me initially, he had treated me with kindness and friendliness in our later interactions. His advice now came from a genuine concern for Chou Yunqing’s well-being, hoping I wouldn’t sink too deep.

"Very well, this old servant will take his leave now."

After the steward left, I stood under the peach tree, looking in the direction of Xie Yan’s study. What was Xie Yan doing at this moment?

I thought again of his face, lost in dreams last night, and the tears he shed on my shoulder, pleading for me to visit him in his dreams tonight. A thought crossed my mind—if Xie Yan were truly lovesick, things would be much easier.

After all the evaluations, we awaited the Crown Prince’s final evaluation. But word suddenly came from the steward that the Crown Prince was occupied tonight and unable to conduct the assessment, postponing it until the next day.

Huai Xin was extremely loyal. Without my asking, he went to gather information himself and eagerly came to share it with me.

"His Highness the Crown Prince has no urgent matters—he’s just indulging in drink. He took several jars of fine wine to the Feng residence and hasn’t come out all night."

My hand, holding the teacup, paused. A smile tugged at my lips as I said, "How interesting."

So Xie Yan truly believed I would keep my promise and meet him in his dreams, which was why he postponed everything and went to the Feng residence at noon to wait for me.

If he discovered it was all just a dream, he would probably cry—after all, I left no trace behind there.

The thought noticeably improved my mood; even the cold moon seemed more pleasing to the eye.

After all, Xie Yan's suffering brought me great satisfaction.

"Young Master, didn’t you very much want to see His Highness the Crown Prince? Why are you so happy today when he isn’t coming?"

Huai Xin topped up my teacup, visibly perplexed by my current good mood.

Naturally, I couldn’t explain it to him, so I simply said, “I just recalled some amusing stories and felt invigorated.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy, young master.” Huai Xin backed out of the room, his face still full of confusion.

The room fell into silence. I lounged lazily on the soft couch, staring distractedly at the moonlight on the floor.

Recalling countless nights three years ago, when I lay in Xie Yan’s embrace, whispering intimately and watching the moon together, I couldn’t help but feel a retroactive fear—like being entwined by a poisonous snake without even realizing it.

What mindset had Xie Yan held while engaging with me back then? Was he laughing at this shameless young woman who dared to offer herself to him?

Furious, I crushed the bedding beneath me, watching as fine particles of dust floated in the air like dancing specks.

This body no longer suffers from asthma—how wonderful.

A sudden night wind rose. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and curled up on the soft couch like a cat.

By now, Xie Yan must have given up on seeing me, right?

If he were dressed as lightly as last night, drinking in this wind, he’d surely catch a cold. Serves him right—I felt delighted. I spent the night sleeping soundly on the couch, reveling in spiteful pleasure.

At noon the next day, the steward announced that all study companions should gather in the garden, as the Crown Prince’s selection was officially beginning.

I dislike being late, so I arrived quite early and originally stood at the front of the line. Gradually, however, I was pushed to the back.

It seemed as though the others had formed cliques overnight, forcibly pushing me back from the front to the rear. There were no fewer than a hundred candidates, and from the back, Xie Yan might not even see me. I wasn’t angry; in fact, I found these people ridiculous.

“Young master.”

I heard Huai Xin’s voice from afar and turned to see him standing not far away. However, attendants aren’t allowed to interfere in such occasions. His face was full of anger, clearly displeased with how I was being treated.

I simply shook my head at him, warning him with my gaze to stay out of it, then quietly returned to my position in the line.

Before long, I heard the steward’s voice: “His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”

Standing at the back of the crowd, I bowed along with everyone else. My position was concealed, so to test my hypothesis from the previous night, I slightly raised my head to look at Xie Yan. Sure enough, he appeared even worse than the night before.

He wore a navy court robe, evidently having just left the morning court. He hadn’t bothered to dress up for the selection, and his expression seemed even paler than the night before. His thin lips were pale, his gray eyes shadowed, and his face impatient, as if he were only going through the motions under the emperor’s pressure.

He seemed to have contracted a cold, coughing sporadically, looking sickly and pale. His cheeks were so thin they were practically gaunt, making him appear even colder and sharper, like a sharpened blade.

Seeing him cough violently, the steward hurriedly handed him tea. Xie Yan took it with indifference, his eyes bloodshot as if he had cried all night.

“You may rise,” Xie Yan said coldly, setting the tea aside.

I stood up with the others, looking through the crowd at Xie Yan’s gloomy and worn face. That night under the moonlight, I hadn’t been able to see him clearly, but now, in the clear daylight, I could take in every detail of his appearance.

He leaned half his body against the desk, the indigo peacock pattern on his court robe accentuating his sinister appearance. His long, thick eyelashes concealed the displeasure in his eyes, and his pale lips were pressed into a tight line—a telltale sign of his bad mood.

Without Xie Yan speaking, the garden fell into dead silence. The steward could only dutifully remind him, “Your Highness, the selection may begin.”

“Hmm,” Xie Yan responded coolly, his cold, pale fingers picking up a memorial from the desk to review carefully. “Steward, come up with any topic to test them.”

Xie Yan’s attitude made it clear he was only putting on a show for the emperor. Since the emperor wasn’t present, he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.

The steward, with his limited literary knowledge, looked rather embarrassed and awkward. He cleared his throat helplessly and asked, “Does anyone know who wrote, ‘Ten years apart, one dead, one alive, not thinking, yet never forgetting’?”

This question was practically a freebie, which caused an uproar among the study companions.

Everyone knew the answer, and everyone wanted to make the best first impression on the Crown Prince.

This was the perfect opportunity—the first question, the first answer, would surely make Xie Yan remember them.

Because of this incredibly simple question, those eager to show off began pushing and shoving each other.

Those at the front had a better chance and could afford to be more composed, while those at the back might not even be seen if they raised their hands, their chances slim to none.

In such a disadvantaged position, they resorted to physical struggles, scrambling to push forward.

I didn’t join their battle but unfortunately became collateral damage. While everyone else stood unharmed, I was pushed to the ground.

Seeing me bullied, Huai Xin, protective of his master, rushed over and shoved the others away, growling, “How dare you push my young master!”

“His health is already poor. If anything happens to him because of your rudeness, can you even compensate for it?”

I was touched, but I soon realized that after Huai Xin’s outburst, the entire garden fell silent.

Instinctively, I looked up to see Xie Yan’s reaction. Sure enough, he had noticed me. Though separated by a sea of people, we only had eyes for each other.

Xie Yan’s gray eyes were as deep as the ocean, swirling with emotions threatening to drown me. He stared intently at me, his phoenix eyes fixed on me as if confirming whether I was real or merely a figment of his dreams.

After a moment’s hesitation, he seemed to make up his mind. He abruptly rose from his desk. Though usually steady on his feet, he stumbled several times on his way to me.

I had mentally prepared myself countless times to face Xie Yan without showing fear.

But today, under the bright sunlight, I instinctively wanted to flee, shrinking back and avoiding Xie Yan’s scorching gaze. Unexpectedly, I fell into a slightly cool embrace.

Xie Yan knelt on one knee, his iron-like arms encircling me. Unlike the feather-light embrace of the previous night, this felt more like the all-consuming hold on our wedding night, using suffocating force to prove I was real and not a wisp of smoke in his arms.

He pressed his entire weight against me, resting his head on my shoulder. His voice was hoarse, like a traveler finally returning home after years away: “Xiao Qiu, Xiao Qiu, so it really wasn’t a dream.”

How could this be a dream?

Even if it were, it would be the beginning of your nightmare from today onward.

Thinking this, a cold smile touched my lips. I tried to push him away gently and said softly, “Your Highness, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not Xiao Qiu; I’m Chou Yunqing.”

“No, you are Xiao Qiu.”

Xie Yan’s reply was firm. He even reached out with his cool fingertips to touch beneath my eye, as if searching for the small mole he remembered there.

But he soon realized he couldn’t find it, his tone turning panicked: “Where is your mole? Why is it gone?”

Xie Yan’s expression was truly a sight to behold. Usually so aloof, he now flustered like a child, repeatedly touching beneath my eye and asking helplessly:

“Where is your mole? How could it disappear?”

What he was truly searching for wasn’t the mole but a sliver of hope that Feng Muqiu was still alive. Like a drowning man desperately grasping for driftwood, I was determined to crush his last hope.

I leaned close to his ear and whispered softly. I remembered his ears were always sensitive; the slightest tease would make them turn red.

It was the same now. He pulled back slightly in surprise, his eyes holding both delight and a faint blush. His originally narcissus-white face gained a hint of color from my sudden proximity.

“Your Highness, I am Chou Yunqing. I have no mole.”

"The one with the mole was Feng Jiuyue. He hanged himself three years ago. Wasn’t it you who handled his burial arrangements? How could you forget?"

I spoke these words softly, just loud enough for the two of us to hear, and I watched quietly as the color drained from Xie Yan’s face in an instant.

He stared at me, dazed, as if trying to determine whether I was Feng Jiuyue or Chou Yunqing, his eyes filled with confusion and sorrow.

"His Highness, this is indeed Chou Yunqing."

"His father is the Prefect of Yuanzhou. He is eighteen this year and is certainly not the same person as Feng Jiuyue."

The steward’s voice sounded from the side, carrying a gentle, persuasive tone, as if hoping to wake Xie Yan from his beautiful dream.

But Xie Yan refused to wake. Instead, he grew even more unrestrained and audacious, almost brutally scooping me up, his arm locking around my waist, digging into my waist painfully.

I looked at the other attendants present—all of them were staring at me with malice and envy, as if I had stolen something precious from them. I felt no satisfaction, only disgust.

I loathed Xie Yan’s touch. Now, with his hand resting on my waist, it felt like a corrosive venom seeping into my organs, my hatred nearly bursting from my chest.

"His Highness, where are you taking me?"

I dared not show my emotions, instinctively clutching the front of Xie Yan’s robe, pressing him desperately.

Xie Yan did not stop walking but lowered his gaze to look at me.

His eyes now held glimmers of sunlight, and even the corners of his lips lifted slightly, his voice losing its heaviness. "To find the bridal makeup artist."

And soon, I understood exactly what Xie Yan intended to do.

Sitting before an ancient bronze mirror, my right hand trembled as I touched the small red mole the bridal makeup artist had dotted on me. It was indeed clever—instantly making me look again like that monster called Feng Jiuyue.

This was just like Xie Yan. Whatever he wanted, whether I was willing or not, I had to obey. Just because I fell in love first, I had no room to resist. The one who falls in love first is always left vulnerable; in the past, I almost always went out of my way to please him.

But now, I no longer loved him, nor did I want to be Feng Jiuyue again. Yet he still forced me. How far would he push me before he was satisfied?

He stood behind me now, his beautiful eyes slightly upturned at the corners with a faint smile, his gray pupils under the sunlight clear like two translucent glass beads, his expression filled with tender sweetness.

Xie Yan was truly beautiful. Even looking so worn, he looked like a painting—no wonder I had been so infatuated before. But now, all I felt was hatred that ate at my bones.

The frustration in my chest made me bite my lower lip hard. I turned and slapped Xie Yan hard across his handsome face.

His expression froze in an instant, as if a beautiful dream had been shattered. His face was stiff, but not a hint of anger in him, like a broken jade Buddha. He waited quietly for me to continue, as if expecting an explanation for why I had hit him.

"His Highness, I am Chou Yunqing, the only son of the Prefect of Yuanzhou. I came to the capital to become your attendant, to work alongside you—not to become some past acquaintance of yours."

My voice trembled as I spoke, my fingers curling slightly at my sides. I hoped this slap would anger him or wake him up.

But instead, he suddenly took my hand—the very one that had just struck him—and planted soft kisses to my palm, his face full of heartache, saying, "Xiao Qiu, don’t be angry. I was wrong."

He was kissing the hand I had just used to slap him. The man had truly lost his mind!

Note from the Author:

Heartless Author: Hit him hard. I’ll take the blame if he breaks.