Chapter 189: Untitled

Then, that time on the water. A helping hand. Meng Fuyao’s long hair graceful floated on the surface of the water with her graceful movements. The moment they made eye contact, Zong Yue’s heart stopped as it reminded him of his childhood friend. Emotions he could not understand rushed up as he threw away his very important waistband just so he could quickly escape.

Whether he left back then, the wheel of fate had already started to spin. They had once again met at the Wuji Red Stone Hill where she had stopped and robbed with her half-assed martial arts.

Suddenly, Zong Yue wanted her to stay. And so, he used an excuse to make her stay as a maid.

She was definitely a talent. With her, they went from King De’s residence to Yaocheng where he had witnessed her crying over the pain of others, watched her save normal citizens and saw that sly her in front of Magistrate Su. He had seen how she made the bailiffs surrender, ordered them to fake information, find evidence from a corpse as well as ferociously choke the throat of Ah Shina.

Such a vicious yet kind, deceitful yet sincere lady.

Such a casual yet respectable lady where she would choose to lock her feelings to disperse the poison instead of obeying another.

Zong Yue gradually realized that Meng Fuyao was Meng Fuyao, she was not Ru Han. Despite the similar dazzling gaze, despite their strong character, what remained in their heart was vastly different.

Ru Han had rejected gentleness with her fortitude, but she had embraced gentleness with her fortitude.

When Yaocheng was surrounded, Meng Fuyao actually chose to feign surrender, and she entered the enemy’s camp alone. As the citizens of Yaocheng spit upon her in despise, she forged ahead. A heart filled with righteous ardor was but forsaken by the masses, almost forced to take her own life outside the gates of the city.

He was at Qiongcang picking herbs back then. When he received the news of her adversity his hands trembled and the stinking passion flower he had finally picked after a grueling process fell down the abyss.

But he could not care less, rushing down the mountain. Within a few days, he had exhausted a couple of horses to death as he rushed to Yaocheng. A journey that had almost caused his old injuries to relapse.

To see her fine and well, a long sigh of relief escaped from his lips. It was also as though something in his heart was gradually collapsing.

When the news of Zhangsun Wuji ‘death’ arrived, Meng Fuyao broke down. Yet, she still remained standing in a calm and collected manner. She refused to cry — she would let the enemies shed those tears.

Zong Yue watched as she quietly and emotionlessly made it through and was reminded by the Ru Han that vowed to get revenge against her father. Using her frail hands that never lifted anything heavier than a spoon, she carried the heavy monument of achievements. Dragging herself forward, she made it through 3,000 miles. When she had reached the palace hall, she was crushed by the monument as she attempted to put it down. Blood spilled from her mouth, but all she did was wipe the blood away and continued carrying the rock another three rounds around the crowded market.

Till this day, he could not understand how Ru Han was able to carry that monument. The girl that had never trained a day in her life.

Such ladies.

Braving through the storms yet staying resolute.

Their unique charm came from their perseverance.

Zong Yue always thought that he admired such ladies and wished that ladies that had Ru Han’s strength, and even more gentleness than her, would always be protected and loved. He did not want to, once again, witness the sorrowful end that Ru Han to replay itself.

But, was that really the case?

Last night, after Zhangsun Wuji’s gentle questioning, it was as though the hazy thoughts had become clear. He was able to look into his emotions — those ‘cold’ yet lingering thoughts he had, crystal clear.

Ru Han was the fiance he had no fate with and never loved. The number of times they had met could be counted with one hand, but he still remembered. He remembered the pain, the guilt when he had let her down, but it was those feelings that slowly blurred her face in his memories.

Meng Fuyao, on the other hand, was a companion in life’s journey. Her presence was a scenery that would attract people to chase after, and would become more and more pronounced and clear as time went on.

But why? Why was he so afraid? Why was he so afraid that she would end up the same as Ru Han? Even though he knew she was not?

Because he cared, he was afraid to lose her.

Those longings were hidden deep, long frozen by the experiences he had. But finally, spring came and warmed his heart. Those frozen emotions started flowing again.

That wave finally started moving. But unfortunately, the wave would no longer be able to wash up the bank of longing, for the thousand-mile-long bank that belonged to her reflected the light of another moon.

Zong Yue smiled. His pale lips gently pressed onto the ocarina and played ‘The Parting Song’.

Her by myself, the pain of parting.

A melody, a silent sigh.

Zong Yue played his ocarina through as the moonlight reflected on him. Meng Fuyao sat beside him, with her hair dancing in the air, quietly observing his side profile as she was reminded of the lady who committed suicide by hitting her head against the wall and their tragic fate.

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She was reminded of the privilege that was favored by the god-like figures—Zhangsun Wuji, Zhan Beiye, Yun Hen, Yan Jingchen.

‘Is it destined that these privileged people must be plagued by the worldly affairs more than a normal person would?

‘When they have status, wealth, position and knowledge, it is as though God must take back some of the ordinary happiness to belong to them, to add an imperfection on that beautiful life.’

To love deeply would throw away one’s life; To be strong would attract insults.

Meng Fuyao quietly stood up. This moment belonged to Zong Yue and his fiancee, and this day for the memorial should not be easily disturbed by anyone.

She slowly made her way out, not knowing the person in the heart of the man on the pavilion, the man playing the ocarina under the moonlight, was her.

Till she left, Zong Yue never once turned back. His fingers gently danced on the sound hole, and he smiled calmly.

“Ru Han, why do I feel that my meeting with her was a punishment from you?”

Meng Fuyao did not hear that sentence. A little downcasted, she headed back to her room and climbed into her bed, and then in a warm embrace.

With a quiet ‘En’, Meng Fuyao pushed him away. “I am not in the mood to joke around or punch anyone. You can go.”

“I know you are not in a good mood today.” That person did not move but instead pulled her into his embrace with his slender fingers.

“So I am responsible for delivering you some good mood.”

Between the two, there was still some gap. Lord Yuan Bao immediately crawled over and filled in the gap.

Meng Fuyao couldn’t help but laugh. And then she rejected with a single word — ‘hot’.

That person very cooperatively adjusted the surrounding temperature by using his inner energy. His inner energy was more on the cold side, and by using it to cool down the surroundings, the temperature was comforting. With Lord Yuan Bao on her shoulder, Meng Fuyao was now reluctant to part with this. She grabbed his palm and said, “Zhangsun Wuji, what a rare occasion that you are such a good boy.”

That person laughed; his chest vibrated slightly. “To someone like you, tough love doesn’t work. All I can is be a good boy and hope that General Meng will spare me some concern.”

“You sound so pitiful.” Meng Fuyao laughed. Her eyelids grew heavy as she drowsiness hit her. “Who knows how many people have been victims of your honeyed words laced with evil intent.”

Zhangsun Wuji smiled as he looked at her. That lady, with a graceful disposition, bathed in that gentle moonlight. Her fatigue had added a lazy allure that was unlike her usual cheerful self. Her long and silky eyelashes that brushed against his palm reminded him of a cat; that laziness and mysterious vibe.

The eyelashes that fluttered tickled his palm. He smiled gently and asked, “What story have you heard that caused you to be so upset?”

Meng Fuyao stayed silent. Then, she brought up the story of Ru Han and concluded, “Misunderstandings harm people, it cannot be truer.”

“No, that’s not it. A misunderstanding that would cause death, would be because they didn’t love enough,” replied Zhangsun Wuji.

Meng Fuyao, unconvinced, retorted, “Look at Zong Yue’s longing. Is that not love?”

Zhangsun Wuji smiled without replying. Be it, men or women, they tended to confuse guilt and love. Regardless, there wasn’t a need to explain anything to this silly girl. After all, Zong Yue was a love rival.

Meng Fuyao absent-mindedly tugged Lord Yuan Bao’s fur and asked, “Zhangsun Wuji, why do you, you all, go through such experiences that normal people usually wouldn’t?”

Zhangsun Wuji smiled and stuffed Lord Yuan Bao’s mouth who was now about to bite people out of rage. He shoved the guinea pig into a corner and covered it with a pillow. Then, he gently patted Meng Fuyao on her back, coaxing her to sleep and replied, “We weren’t normal people to begin with.”

Upon hearing his reply, she laughed, thinking that this person was such a narcissist. But then she understood what he meant — the royal family was the dirtiest and darkest family riddled internal strife. Like a wolf in a sheep’s clothing, the royals enshrouded by grace, yet in their bones, there was nothing but filth and evil intent. Looking across the Seven Kingdoms, which aristocratic family had never been tainted with blood? Which rich family’s abandoned well never contained a single corpse? Which palace never had the souls of those who lost the battle for power?

Meng Fuyao quietly sighed. “I once heard a story; A princess, before the collapse of her country, sobbed. ‘May I never be reborn into the imperial family.’ Then, I thought that she was unlucky. After all, who could have it worse than a princess that had to face the doom of her country? But now, I see that even a princess or prince in peacetime is as unlucky… Zhangsun Wuji, is there a dynasty where everyone is equal and that there are a check and balance of power? Even though dirty-handed methods and unfairness would be unavoidable for the said dynasty, it would try to be fair and right to the best of its abilities…”

Zhangsun Wuji remained silent. After a while, he replied, “You can build one.”

Meng Fuyao started laughing instead as she covered her eyes and collapsed into the blanket. “I must be dumb. For someone who studied history to ask such a silly question. A fair and right dynasty in this feudal, backward system where production rate is low? Doesn’t that equate to asking when China will win the soccer World Cup, discussing the idea of humility with Sister Feng ¹ … wait for me to build? If I’m here forever, I will. But now? Not free.”

Meng Fuyao closed her eyes, exhausted, and felt that someone approached her quietly. A soft, soothing voice rang beside her ear. “What are you busy with?”

“… going home.” Meng Fuyao rolled over and lazily replied. She casually waved her hand and said, “Remember to close the door on the way out.”

She fell into a deep slumber without hearing a reply. But before she completely blacked out, Meng Fuyao felt a warm, moist breeze brush past on her forehead. In that breeze was a gentle yet lingering sigh.