Chapter Forty-Two: The Word Called Love
After returning from the Dragon Palace, Blood Snow’s heart felt even more tumultuous. What had begun as a whim to seek out Ji Wuqing had left her more entangled than before. For a while, she was lost—what did she truly want? As her fingers traced the scroll in her hand, Ji Wuqing’s somewhat domineering words echoed in her ears—
Besides, this imperial edict is written as I please, in as many copies as I wish—there is no escape for you, Blood.
The edict had already been issued. How was she to salvage the current situation?
“Your Majesty, Consort Jade requests an audience. Shall I send her away?” The eunuch at the door had relayed this message who knows how many times already, trying to discern his mistress’s intentions.
Since the king’s decree, the concubines had grown restless. Some came to curry favor, others to gather news.
“Let Consort Jade in,” Blood Snow said, seated upon her couch, nodding in unexpected consent.
“Your Majesty, I pay my respects.” Consort Jade glided in gracefully, bowing with demure elegance. Draped in a gauzy robe, she was as pristine as a cherry blossom untouched by dust. A few locks of hair cascaded over her chest, her beauty understated yet refined.
“Please rise, Consort Jade.”
“I’ve come to congratulate Your Majesty. Alas, the palace offers little of worth, and I dare not make a display before you. I pray you will not take offense.” With another curtsy, Consort Jade spoke.
“There’s no need for such formality. Please, sit,” Blood Snow replied coolly. “Someone, serve tea.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Consort Jade’s manners were impeccable as she took her seat, her gentle, classical demeanor lending her a composed dignity.
Once seated, Jade Xiao could not help but cast a glance at Blood Snow, the queen with the gentle, distant air. Truth be told, she had never spoken much with the queen; their acquaintance was shallow at best. Yet, as the king’s favored woman, her presence naturally evoked complicated feelings.
Sensing Jade Xiao’s scrutiny, Blood Snow did not address it, sipping her tea in silence.
“Your Majesty, forgive me if my visit is untimely. I…” She faltered, for when the imperial decree reached her, she herself was unsure what she felt. Was it resignation or lingering envy? This queen always seemed to acquire everything with such ease, while she herself could not even catch a glance from the king.
“If you have something on your mind, speak freely. I will answer as best I can.”
“It is nothing, truly. I merely wished to offer my congratulations. Now that I have, I shall take my leave.” With that, Consort Jade took her leave in haste.
Blood Snow sensed the melancholy clinging to Consort Jade—a quiet sorrow, perhaps for Ji Wuqing. She could feel that Consort Jade’s heart was true.
Sometimes, an observer sees most clearly; and sometimes, that is how love is—he watches her, while another watches him.
Burdened with her own thoughts, Blood Snow dismissed her attendants at noon and rested alone in her chambers.
Beneath the veiled canopy, her sleep was restless—never deep, merely lying in bed as she pondered her troubles.
Before long, she sensed an uninvited guest slip into her chambers.
The intruder sat down with an unhurried composure, pouring himself a cup of tea with languid grace. The delicate, crisp sound of tea trickling was like a mountain stream—lively and soothing.
“Isn’t Crown Prince Dan’s conduct growing rather presumptuous?” Her voice, clear and cold, was like the rosy clouds at dawn—elegant and pure. Seated amidst the layered veils, her expression was chilling.
“I heard the Blood Queen will soon reside in the Eastern Palace. I have come to offer my congratulations.” Dan Ying replied indifferently, his expression equally frosty, with no hint of celebration.
Blood Snow fell silent, then spoke softly, “Your intentions are noted. Please, Crown Prince, take your leave.” What was Dan Ying’s purpose, always appearing before her?
No—he must think she was Yuan Xue. That was why he haunted her so.
“The tea in your palace is quite delicious,” Dan Ying said, showing no intention of leaving. He sipped, savoring the faint floral sweetness—a refreshing, pleasant aroma.
Blood Snow remained silent, wondering what his aim was.
“Blood Queen, I can help you leave the palace. If you so wish, I will lend my aid.” Dan Ying’s words were precise and certain, as if he saw right through her. He sat quietly by the table, awaiting her reply.
“Crown Prince, do not presume. I have a bright future ahead of me—why should I need your help? It’s truly laughable. You overestimate yourself.” Blood Snow let out a bitter laugh. Already troubled, Dan Ying only made matters worse. “You would do better to mind your own affairs rather than meddle in mine.”
“If you misunderstand me so, then let it be. I shall await the splendid future that awaits the Blood Queen.” Dan Ying’s cold voice faded, vanishing without a trace, like a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface.
Blood Snow lay back slowly, pondering his words.
Was that a threat? Still, his words had awakened something in her—perhaps it could be done…
The chill of autumn was softened by fair weather. Sunlight spilled through the open window, gleaming upon the bronze mirror, filling the room with warmth.
She stood in the courtyard, flowers blooming brightly around her, accentuating her unearthly grace. Her jade-green robes fluttered like dancing butterflies, chasing one another in the wind.
With her head bowed in thought, she finally made up her mind.
“Peach Heart,” she called softly to her maid, “would you be willing to leave the palace with me?” It was a desperate gambit, but at this point, it was the only way forward—and she trusted her own instincts.
“Your Majesty…” Peach Heart seemed startled, but only just so.
“Just answer me.”
For a moment, Peach Heart was stunned, then nodded without hesitation, eyes shimmering with tears. “Wherever you are, I will be!” Her reply was clear and resolute, not disappointing Blood Snow.
“Do you truly mean it?”
“Your Majesty’s trust is all I need.” Peach Heart knelt, her voice earnest. “You are my mistress, and I will always serve you!” The conviction in her words rang out.
“Rise,” Blood Snow said quietly. The wind tossed her long hair, her voice drifting away like mist, soft and unhurried. “You’re right—by choosing to tell you, I show I trust you.”
“But why, Your Majesty…” Peach Heart could not help but ask. The ceremony to install her as Eastern Palace Queen was near, yet her mistress wished to leave.
She knew her mistress’s gentle temperament did not suit the palace’s web of intrigue. But what of the king?
“I suppose—for once, I’ll act on my own whim.” She had lived indifferently for so long; she did not wish to repeat the past, but to follow her heart.
And Ji Wuqing—would you turn a blind eye just this once?
The clouds grew heavy, the sky dimmed.
She sat in her chamber, a Go board laid out on the table, the black and white stones gleaming under the lamp. Two cups of freshly brewed tea sat on the table, the delicate porcelain painted with mountains and rivers.
“Greetings, Your Majesty!” The palace attendants bowed in unison. The man who entered did so with casual ease, waving them away.
He wore a robe of blue-green, simple in design, but on him, it radiated noble elegance and grace. His hair was half tied with a jade hairpin, the rest flowing long down his back, giving him a celestial air.
His dark eyes sparkled, like precious gems fallen from the heavens—warm, yet sharp enough to see through anyone.
“Your Majesty,” Blood Snow rose and curtsied, her voice cool as water.
“No need for such formality,” Ji Wuqing said, lifting her up and taking a seat across from her. His eyes lingered on the Go board with interest. “Were you waiting especially for me?”
“I heard Your Majesty is skilled at Go. I wished to learn from you. And, did you not say last time that you wanted to play three games with me?” She lifted her teacup, gently prying open the lid, letting the fragrance unfurl.
As the saying goes, ‘The pleasure is not in the wine, but in the mountains and rivers.’
“If you are in the mood, then I will gladly accompany you,” Ji Wuqing said with a smile, picking up his own cup and sipping the unfamiliar brew without hesitation. “The tea here is especially sweet.”
“Dried petals blended with other leaves—it has a unique flavor,” Blood Snow replied smoothly, setting down her cup and picking up three black stones. “Your Majesty, odd or even?”
“Odd.”
She opened her hand—three black stones gleamed, confirming his choice.
“Then please, Your Majesty, make the first move.”
Ji Wuqing made no pretense and placed a white stone on the board; Blood Snow followed, each refusing to yield.
“I didn’t expect your skill at Go to be so remarkable. How many more surprises are you hiding, waiting for me to discover?” Ji Wuqing watched her respond with ease, unsurprised—as if he had expected nothing less.
“Your Majesty’s eagerness to win has given me an opening.”
It is said the outcome of a game is less important than what one learns of the opponent during the match. Her adversary was clearly decisive and ruthless—Ji Wuqing was no indecisive monarch.
At her words, Ji Wuqing laughed, though the reason was unclear.
“Eager to win? If I weren’t, this game would never end.” His face bore a gentle smile, but his eyes remained unreadable.