Chapter Seventy-Eight: When Love Endures Forever

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The twilight sun cast a faint red glow over the city of Jiangning, while the biting winter wind wove and sliced through the air. Within and beyond the city walls, whether farmer or merchant, or the carefree scholars gathering together in leisure, all gradually retreated from the cold to the warmth of their homes, vanishing from sight. Such bleak and chilly weather became more frequent as winter advanced, making the cold season the hardest time for the people of the south to endure. The privileged could still warm themselves by braziers, wrap themselves in furs, and command servants to attend them, but the poor could do little more than shiver through the days in their thin garments.

Outside the eastern city gate, on the official road, a magnificent white steed led the way, followed by four swift horses galloping in succession. When they had gone a fair distance, the white horse slowed to a halt. Cloaked in a thick mantle, Kong Sheng turned in his saddle and gazed back at the majestic city, illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun, his eyes filled with emotion.

Mu Changfeng, still clad in pure white, sat astride his horse with his sword in hand, smiling faintly as he said, “Leaving behind the homeland of the south, with beauties gazing longingly after us—my lord, are you reluctant to part?”

Kong Sheng exhaled a long breath that scattered on the wind, then replied coolly, “Brother Mu, a true man aspires to conquer the world, not to cling to home and comfort. I go to Suiyang to take up my post, and unless I achieve some measure of success, I shall have no face to return to the south. Let us be on our way!”

With a swift squeeze of his legs, Kong Sheng urged his horse forward. The steed neighed and shot off like a flash of lightning. Mu Changfeng laughed heartily, glanced back at Wu Xian and Wu Jie—two of the imperial guards now dressed as ordinary warriors—and spurred his horse after Kong Sheng.

Wu Xian exchanged a helpless look with his brother Wu Jie, pulled at his reins with a frown, and followed as well. The two were of Khitan descent, but their forebears had served in the Tang army since their father’s and grandfather’s time, and they had long since been assimilated.

After Li Heng ascended the throne at Lingwu, these two, who had previously served in Guo Ziyi’s army, were transferred to the new emperor’s imperial guard. Their days were spent standing watch at the palace, endlessly rotating between duty and rest—a most tedious existence. This time, accompanying Li Fuguo to the south, they had scarcely enjoyed a day or two amidst the bustling prosperity before being “sold” mid-journey by Li Fuguo to a mere county magistrate not yet in office, tasked to escort him into the chaos and peril of Suiyang. To fall from imperial guards to mere attendants of a minor official—how could they not feel frustrated and resentful?

But in the end, they had no choice. Defying orders would mean certain death at Li Fuguo’s hands. Better to follow Kong Sheng to Henan—perhaps there would be a chance for survival.

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Nevertheless, neither man expected Kong Sheng, a mere fledgling, to have much of a future; to survive in these troubled times would already be a blessing. A lowly county magistrate might seem important to the common folk, but in the capital or the court, such officials were as common as dirt.

Let alone a rank-eight official—even those of the highest ranks, the dukes and ministers, Wu Xian and Wu Jie had seen many of their kind.

Yang Residence.

Hongmian hurriedly ran into Yang Xueruo’s private courtyard and burst into the hall, exclaiming, “Miss, something terrible has happened! The young lord of the Kong family has run away!”

“Run away?” Yang Xueruo was seated cross-legged on a soft couch within the hall, working needle and thread with Liu Xinru and Tian’er to finish a thick cloak as a parting gift for Kong Sheng to keep out the cold. At Hongmian’s words, she was startled and asked anxiously, “Hongmian, speak slowly—what has happened, exactly?”

Hongmian, pouting, handed Yang Xueruo a letter. “Miss, this is the letter he left for you. The innkeeper said he took his two guards and left the city this afternoon!”

Yang Xueruo’s expression changed as she took and opened the letter, finding only two lines of bold, elegant script: “If love can endure for long, why must lovers be together every morning and night?”

Yang Xueruo stared blankly at the words, her exquisite face slowly flushing with a rosy glow. Suddenly, she smiled and said softly, “What do you mean, run away? Hongmian, do not speak nonsense! Kong Sheng left without saying goodbye only because he feared I would be saddened or fall ill. This is actually for the best. I shall guard my door and wait for the day he returns triumphant, with honor and glory.”

“If love can endure for long, why must lovers be together every morning and night?” Liu Xinru softly recited, her delicate face aglow with admiration. She could not help but praise, “Miss, the young lord of the Kong family is a natural poet, his words as moving as the work of spirits; with just a couple of lines, he has captured all his deep affection for you. To have such a gentleman’s love is truly the envy of all women.”

A radiant look of happiness and sweetness shone in Yang Xueruo’s eyes. She slowly closed them, but tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Murmuring to herself, she said, “Kong Sheng, with this parting, mountains and rivers lie between us. Who knows when you shall return? The road to Henan is fraught with war—take care of yourself, and remember that I wait here in the south for you, enduring all hardships.”

After a moment’s thought, Yang Xueruo cast a deep, meaningful glance at Liu Xinru, whose own expression was tinged with sorrow. Her gaze sharpened as she cleared her throat gently and said in an even tone, “Xinru, do not grieve. When my lord returns, I will not let him disappoint you.”

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Liu Xinru was taken aback, blushing furiously as she knelt on the ground. “Miss, I dare not even dream of such a thing!”

Yang Xueruo only smiled in silence, but thought to herself: It’s best if you don’t dare to hope. If you ever try to overstep your bounds, you’ll find I am not so easy to deal with! I saved your life out of pity for your misfortunes, but though your ambition may reach the heavens, your fate remains precarious. For other matters, I can turn a blind eye, but when it comes to my lord, you mustn’t even think about it!

Though gentle and gracious on the surface, Yang Xueruo was strong-willed and had her own firm ideas. Born into a powerful family, as a noble’s daughter, how could she lack cunning and resourcefulness? As she often reminded herself, Liu Xinru was different from Hongmian or Tian’er; in beauty, she was in no way inferior, and in talent, she was nearly Yang Xueruo’s equal—indeed, a rare and captivating woman. For this reason, Yang Xueruo always harbored a subtle wariness and vigilance toward her, ready to offer a gentle warning at the slightest hint of trouble.

Liu Xinru understood this all too well, and lived in constant apprehension. Many nights she could not sleep for worry over this very matter. Of course, she knew better than anyone that the only way to dispel Yang Xueruo’s suspicions was to sever all thoughts of Kong Sheng. Yet such feelings were not so easily cut off; all she could do now was bury them deep within, never daring to let them show.

Tian’er was a little bewildered. A bright and innocent girl, she felt only deep gratitude toward Yang Xueruo; without her protection, both she and Liu Xinru would have met tragic ends long ago. Toward Liu Xinru, her former mistress, she felt a complex blend of emotions. As for the hidden meanings and subtle exchanges between old and new mistresses, she truly could not comprehend them.

Hongmian, being two years older than Tian’er and already understanding matters of love, vaguely realized what troubled her mistress. Naturally, she sided with Yang Xueruo, and her gaze toward Liu Xinru was correspondingly less than kind.

Fortunately, Yang Xueruo knew when to stop; she smiled gently, stepped forward, and took Liu Xinru’s hand herself. “Xinru, what are you doing? We are like sisters—don’t kneel like this again.”

Liu Xinru choked back her tears, unable to utter a word.