Chapter Twenty-Nine: Memories of Days Gone By

Mingyu pressed tightly against the horse’s back, her heart in turmoil. The forest was quiet, broken only by the steady rhythm of hooves and the pounding of her own heart. She was terribly afraid—afraid of falling from the horse, but even more so that the first person to come for her might not be Qiao Muqing.

The horse wasn’t running fast; its pace gradually slowed until it finally stopped. It seemed that Sister Jiu’er hadn’t lied—this horse truly was gentle, Mingyu thought.

Taking a deep breath to steady her frantic heart, she slowly started to dismount. Perhaps she’d been too frightened; her hands trembled, and unable to find her footing, she fell directly to the ground.

“Ah—”

Clutching her knee, which throbbed with pain after hitting the earth, Mingyu gasped sharply. She bit back her tears as she rolled up the hem of her skirt; blood was already seeping out, looking almost terrifying.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, fear and pain consuming her. She buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly, regretting her decision. She shouldn’t have tried to test herself—she was truly terrified.

Elsewhere, Rong Jiu stopped Song Moci and the others who wanted to give chase, explaining the plan she and Mingyu had devised. Though the group was anxious, they trusted Qiao Muqing and chose to wait.

Qiao Muqing used his agility to search for Mingyu in the forest, but the woods were vast and the thick branches obscured his view. The face that usually bore a smile was now grave, cold enough to pierce through anyone.

“Where could that girl be? She must be terrified right now!” Qiao Muqing thought, punching a nearby tree in frustration and worry. That timid little thing must be crying right now—it was all his fault for not watching her more closely, for letting her learn to ride.

He struck the tree again, berating himself. Just then, the distant sound of a horse’s whinny caught his ear. His eyes lit up, and he sped off in the direction of the noise.

“Good horse, do you think they’ll be able to find me?” Mingyu asked the horse through her tears. The little red mare couldn’t speak but seemed to understand. It raised its head and neighed, then lowered it to nuzzle her gently.

The tickling made Mingyu laugh despite herself. “Alright, alright, stop nudging me.”

The horse lifted its head and neighed again.

“Are you trying to tell them where we are?” Mingyu was touched, reaching out to stroke the mare. Calmer now, her fear subsided, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood—the first time she met Qiao Muqing.

It was a New Year’s Eve. She’d been punished for mischief and forbidden by her mother to watch the fireworks display. But she was not one to simply give up. She slipped past the palace maids and snuck out.

Pleased with herself, she soon realized she was lost. On New Year’s Eve, most of the palace staff gathered together to celebrate, and few were out and about. Mingyu grew anxious. The dim lanterns flickered around her, but otherwise, she was alone.

Being young and sheltered, she hardly understood fear. Tilting her head, she noticed a rockery not far off. She’d heard that heights afforded better views—if she climbed up, perhaps she could find her way.

Without hesitating, Mingyu rubbed her plump little hands together, rolled up her sleeves, and began to climb. But she’d overestimated her skills. She lost her grip and fell.

“Ah—”

Pain shot through her body, and she could no longer hold back her cries.

“What’s wrong?” A voice called out. Mingyu looked up to see someone standing before her.

“Are you here to rescue me?” she whimpered.

“Ah?” Qiao Muqing tilted his head, puzzled.

When he didn’t answer, Mingyu started to cry again. Qiao Muqing glanced at the rockery, then at the girl sitting on the ground, and realized what had happened. He pointed at the rockery and asked gently, “Did you fall from there?”

Tears welled in Mingyu’s eyes as she nodded, feeling aggrieved.

Qiao Muqing suddenly smiled, squatted down with his back to her, and said, “Come on, climb on. I’ll carry you back.”

Mingyu was stunned, unsure how to react.

“If you don’t get on, I’ll leave,” Qiao Muqing called again when she didn’t move.

Sure enough, at the thought of being abandoned, Mingyu scrambled up, forgetting her pain, and clung to his back. She truly did not want to stay in that dreadful place a moment longer.

Once she was settled, Qiao Muqing smiled and lifted her up securely.

It was the first time Mingyu had been carried by a stranger. Surrounded by his faint, fresh scent, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“By the way, which palace are you from?” Qiao Muqing asked.

“I... I don’t want to go back yet,” Mingyu mumbled into his shoulder. If she returned, she’d miss the fireworks.

“Oh? Then where do you want to go?” He stopped walking to ask.

“I want to see the fireworks, but Mother won’t let me...”

The soft, childish voice behind him made Qiao Muqing laugh. So this little girl was a princess.

“You didn’t sneak out and get lost, did you?” he asked, barely able to contain his amusement.

“Mm...” Mingyu could tell he was laughing at her, and she flushed bright red, mortified.

“That’s easy. I’ll take you,” Qiao Muqing said.

“Really?” Mingyu’s eyes widened with joy, but then she wilted. “But if Mother sees me, I’ll be punished again.”

“I know a place where you can watch the fireworks, and your mother will never find you,” Qiao Muqing said with a grin.

“Really? Take me there, please!” Mingyu clapped her hands in delight.

“Then hold on tight!” he told her.

She grabbed hold at once, and suddenly her body felt weightless. They rose into the air, the cool breeze brushing her cheeks as the lights of the palace spread out below.

Mingyu shivered, just about to cry out in surprise, when Qiao Muqing’s voice came softly by her ear. “Hold on and don’t let go.”

She felt them move again, Qiao Muqing’s lightness of movement so skillful that even with her on his back, he leapt easily from rooftop to rooftop.

Mingyu had never experienced anything like it. She was both thrilled and frightened.

Soon, Qiao Muqing stopped and set her down carefully.

“This is the highest place in the palace. You can see the fireworks perfectly from here, and it’s no less spectacular than being in the crowd.”

Mingyu sat obediently, not daring to move. It was dizzyingly high, and she feared that the slightest misstep would be fatal.

“Don’t be afraid. Just hold onto me—I’ll keep you safe,” Qiao Muqing said, seeing her fear.

Looking at his gentle face, Mingyu’s heart raced. She didn’t know why, but she felt safe and her fear faded. She nodded, smiling, and held tightly to his sleeve.

The firework show had not yet started. From here, the entire palace and the countless lanterns beyond the gates were visible—a perfect place to take in the view.

“Do you come here often?” Mingyu asked, tilting her head.

“Every time I enter the palace with my father, I sneak up here alone. Those banquets are so boring,” Qiao Muqing replied, sitting beside her with a shrug.

“Doesn’t your father worry when he can’t find you?” Mingyu asked. If it were her, the Emperor would surely send the whole palace searching.

“The son of a general is different. As long as I return on time, my father doesn’t mind,” Qiao Muqing said.

“You’re the general’s son? Then you must be very skilled! And, what was that flying about just now? Can you teach me?” Mingyu asked, eyes shining.

He laughed. “Silly girl, that’s called qinggong—lightness skill. It’s not so easy to learn. It takes a lot of hard work.” He patted her head.

“I’m not afraid of hard work. Can you teach me?” Mingyu blinked her big eyes.

He chuckled, amused by her eagerness. “Silly girl, girls can’t learn qinggong. Understand?”

“Oh... alright then,” Mingyu’s face fell, disappointed. She had hoped to learn, so she could come here by herself one day.

“But... I can take you flying with me in the future,” Qiao Muqing added, unable to bear her sadness.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up again.

“Mm... Look, the fireworks are starting!” Qiao Muqing pointed into the distance.

With thunderous booms, dazzling colors blossomed in the night sky, so beautiful it seemed unreal.

Mingyu’s mouth fell open in wonder. The fireworks bloomed right above her, as if she could reach out and touch the stars.

She had never seen fireworks from so close before and was speechless with delight.

Qiao Muqing watched her wave her arms in excitement, smiling dotingly. He hardly looked at the fireworks himself—his gaze never left her, afraid she might fall in her enthusiasm.

The fireworks, however splendid, faded as quickly as they appeared. The night was quiet again, the faint white smoke the only sign that the spectacle had not been a dream.

When Qiao Muqing secretly took Mingyu back, she had already fallen asleep on his shoulder. Hearing her steady, gentle breathing, he smiled helplessly. He laid her carefully on her bed and warned the palace maids not to speak a word of her escapade. Only once they promised did he leave, reassured.

After that, Mingyu began asking around about Qiao Muqing, until one day, her third brother told her the boy was General Qiao’s son. For a time, Mingyu was confined to her chambers after her mother learned of her secret adventure; she had no chance to see Qiao Muqing again.

Returning to the present, Mingyu wiped her tears, wondering if perhaps her tendency to cry so easily was the reason Qiao Muqing didn’t like her.

But would he, as in their childhood, come to save her this time?

She lowered her head, a trace of sorrow in her heart.

“Mingyu?”

That same warm, comforting voice from her memory reached her ears. Mingyu looked up in delight.

Seeing the person she had longed for standing before her, Mingyu wanted to cry, but she forced herself to hold back and managed a smile.

“You finally came to save me.”