Chapter 81: Reconciliation

On the sixteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, snow still drifted outside the window, and Wei Zhuang was, as always, away from home.

Ye Qianran sat beneath the window, gazing at the swirling snow, lost in thought.

She and Wei Zhuang had been locked in a cold war for more than half a month. During this time, Wei Zhuang was rarely home. Occasionally, he would return, but never stayed for long before leaving again.

Ye Qianran no longer pondered the meaning behind his actions. Though they were husband and wife, they were not truly like a couple. There were moments when their feelings for one another were good, but such tender, intimate affections beneath the moon and among the flowers could not withstand even a single hurtful word. It was not that there was no love between them, but rather that they lacked the most basic trust.

He never told her where he was going, whom he was meeting, or what he was doing, and she never asked. Likewise, Wei Zhuang never inquired about her relationship with Zhuge Liuyun, nor did he mention Zhuge Qingfeng. In this way, they had reached an unspoken agreement: as long as you don’t speak, I shall never ask.

Sometimes, out of boredom, Ye Qianran wondered what her life would be like without Wei Zhuang. In all her memories of the capital, his presence loomed, as if this man had always been by her side. Turning the thought over and over, she realized that he was everywhere, that she had always lived under his protection.

At this realization, she abruptly straightened, for a sudden thought struck her like a slap—leaving her stunned.

She discovered that without him, she seemed incapable of living independently. In other words, no matter if this man’s heart wandered, if he took concubines, or if he even cast her aside, she could not leave him.

The seriousness of this had never occurred to her until now, and she felt a chill of terror—her life, without her knowing, had become inextricably bound to his.

Had she understood him, perhaps this would have been happiness. A woman spends her life seeking a good husband, raising children, and living a simple life. But she did not truly know this man before her. Though they saw each other day and night, she never knew what lay in his heart.

She could not tell if her future would hold a sudden brightening after a dark turn, or if she was heading toward a dead end.

What unsettled Ye Qianran most was the realization that, in this relationship with Wei Zhuang, she had no initiative, no control. This man—no matter whether one loved him or not—was someone she could never escape.

That was what filled Ye Qianran with fear. That was why she could never give her heart to him completely—not merely because of Liuyun.

From the very beginning, she had always kept a part of herself reserved, a habit formed almost instinctively. Now she understood why: she had been afraid from the start, and this fear had only grown, pushing her to retreat further and further, until there was nowhere left to retreat.

She feared he would stop loving her, feared she could not hold onto him—because he was too outstanding, because her own position was so narrow, so constrained.

Just then, the housekeeper lifted the curtain and entered. "Madam, Zhuge Qingfeng has come to visit." Ye Qianran awoke from her reverie, still in a haze. "Invite him in," she said.

Zhuge Qingfeng entered, brushing the snowflakes from his robe with a smile. "The snow is truly heavy today." Ye Qianran rose to greet him. "Then why come today, of all days?"

He sat down, still smiling. "What, don’t want to see me? Have you married and begun to despise your friends?"

Ye Qianran instructed a servant to prepare tea, then sat opposite him. "After all this time, you’re still as fond of nonsense as ever."

Qingfeng leaned his elbow on the table, inclining toward her. "This time I’m not here to talk nonsense. I’ve come to say farewell."

Ye Qianran looked at him in surprise. "So soon?"

He smiled. "I’d planned to spend the New Year with my parents before heading south, but my father said the war is going poorly, and as a man, I should not waste my years at home. I should go to the battlefield and defend our country. He insisted I return to the front in Hubei at once. I couldn’t argue."

Ye Qianran asked, "But haven’t you always preferred wandering the world? Why go to war now?"

Zhuge Qingfeng crossed his legs and replied, "When I was young, my father taught me that a man could only serve his country and achieve distinction through the imperial examinations. So from childhood, Liuyun and I were made to study and practice martial arts. Later, I met my master, who asked if I wanted to live my life as a mediocrity bound by the pursuit of fame, or roam the world freely with him. I’d seen enough of my father’s students, worn down by ambition, and I chose freedom. But now that I’m grown and no one compels me, the hot blood of youth stirs again—especially since Liuyun is on the battlefield. I should go and lend him my strength."

He had been smiling, but upon mentioning that name, his expression dimmed.

Zhuge Qingfeng leaned forward, sighing. "I don’t know what brought you and Wei Zhuang together, but since you’ve already made your choice, don’t think of him anymore. It’s better for both of you. As for Liuyun, I’ll persuade him to let go. The pain Lotus Heart caused him has passed—time will heal all things."

Ye Qianran said nothing. She understood these truths already.

"Qianran?"

"Hmm?" She lifted her gaze to him. His eyes were clear and bright, never dulled. From the depths of her heart, she felt a quiet joy—like coming upon a hillside covered in white pear blossoms after a long, weary journey through the night. Fresh and natural.

His voice was low and gentle, like morning dew on a lotus leaf. "Take care of yourself."

Ye Qianran smiled knowingly and reached out her hand; Zhuge Qingfeng took it, stood, and gave her a warm embrace.

"You take care as well."

She did not see him out, only stood at the window and watched as he walked further and further away. An ineffable sadness welled up within her—he was gone too, and she was alone.

She felt a profound and indescribable loneliness.

Then Ye Qianran saw Wei Zhuang return, sheltering under an umbrella. She watched him exchange greetings with Qingfeng, watched Qingfeng leave, and saw Wei Zhuang stop before the small building.

Wei Zhuang looked up at her, and she looked back, snow swirling between them. She could not make out his expression, but her heart began to race; this man’s mere presence always unsettled her calm.

After being together so long, it would be a lie to say she didn’t care. How could she not? She simply could not let herself show it too much.

Ye Qianran turned and went inside.

Wei Zhuang closed his umbrella, climbed the stairs, and reached her door, but did not lift the curtain to enter.

Ye Qianran held her breath. Wei Zhuang stood outside for a long while, then finally descended the stairs. Hearing his footsteps retreat, she let out a long sigh, but her heart sank all the same.

Huaniang, the maid, spotted Wei Zhuang and brightened. "Young master, when did you return?"

Wei Zhuang smiled faintly, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. "Just now."

Huaniang grew puzzled. "You’re going out again so soon after coming home?"

He didn’t answer, only said, "Take good care of the lady. I’m going out for a while," and walked away.

Huaniang shook her head and sighed, "He’s a married man with a child on the way, yet he’s always running off. No wonder the lady is upset."

Wei Zhuang heard her grumbling but paid it no mind. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped, quickly caught up with Huaniang, his expression so serious it seemed something grave had happened. "What did you just say?"

Huaniang was bewildered. "What?"

"I heard you say, ‘He’s a married man with a child…’" Wei Zhuang asked, testing her words.

Huaniang was even more confused. "What about it?"

"What child?"

Huaniang was astonished. "The lady is already two months pregnant, didn’t you know?"

Wei Zhuang’s head snapped up as if struck by lightning. He froze, the umbrella in his hand falling to the ground with a thud. In an instant, he dashed back, stirring up a gust of wind. Huaniang watched his flustered retreat and shook her head.

He lifted the curtain, making a sudden rustling noise. Ye Qianran turned at the sound to see Wei Zhuang standing quietly in the doorway, his dark eyes deep as autumn water. Their gazes met, and the room fell into sudden silence.

The incense in the burner wafted in slender tendrils. As Wei Zhuang drew near, Ye Qianran’s heart grew anxious. The closer he came, the more she could catch the subtle scent of ambergris on him. Instinctively, she stepped back, but he seized her waist and pressed his lips to hers.

Ye Qianran’s mind went blank—she had never expected him to suddenly assault her like this. When she finally came to her senses, anger surged within her. What did he take her for, to come and go as he pleased? She shoved him away, but this time Wei Zhuang was relentless. He pulled her tightly into his arms, locking her waist, and kissed her fiercely. Ye Qianran struggled, but he ignored her resistance, his tongue deftly seeking hers, kissing her deeply until her body grew limp and she had no strength left to resist.

She passively surrendered to his ardent advances, her hands weakly encircling his neck. His kisses grew deeper, his hands wandering restlessly over her, until at last Ye Qianran snapped awake and tried to push him away. Wei Zhuang held her close. "Why didn’t you tell me about the child? How long were you going to keep it from me?"

Ye Qianran suddenly fell silent, closing her eyes in exhaustion. "How did you find out?"

Wei Zhuang almost sighed. "Did you not want me to know?"

No one spoke.

Wei Zhuang let her go a little, Ye Qianran lowering her head, not meeting his gaze. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Did you not want me to know?"

She still said nothing.

Wei Zhuang laughed softly. "You must be angry with me for neglecting you these days, aren’t you? Silly girl, I wasn’t ignoring you—I was sulking. You always seem so distracted, and it makes me angry, with you and with myself. But now that you’re carrying my child, I don’t have to worry anymore."

Ye Qianran stared at this handsome, deeply affectionate man before her and felt as if she were dreaming. The change was so abrupt, she could hardly react. Just moments ago they’d been cold and distant, and now, somehow, they were reconciled even before she had said a word.

Wei Zhuang pressed his forehead to hers, gazing deep into her eyes, his voice as gentle as the dew of night. "You know, I’m already twenty-eight. This is my first child—our child. From now on, I will never leave your side. You and our child are the treasures of my life. I won’t let anyone disturb you."

Ye Qianran looked at him and reached out to touch his face. "Do you truly love children that much?"

Wei Zhuang clasped her hand, smiling softly. "It’s not that I love children—it’s because this child is ours, yours and mine, so I love him."

Her gaze swept over his brows, his eyes, his nose, his lips, and she sighed faintly, a sound almost too soft to hear.

He held her close, and Ye Qianran rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes wide open, staring off into the unknown.