Chapter Thirty: Concern in the Heart

A gentle breeze swept across the soft grass, and waves rippled forth in layer upon layer. Rong Jiu cautiously approached Mo Ningshu, who was standing by the lakeshore. His agile figure was reflected on the water's surface, shimmering with the breeze.

“What are you looking at?” Rong Jiu couldn’t help but ask.

It was likely the first time since arriving in Jing’an City that she had taken the initiative to speak to him.

Mo Ningshu was startled. He hadn’t noticed when Rong Jiu came to his side, nor had he expected her to initiate conversation.

“I was just thinking—since the whole area is surrounded by woods, could there be assassins hiding in them?” Mo Ningshu glanced around as he spoke.

Rong Jiu found this dull. “Is that all?”

“What else did the Princess expect?” Mo Ningshu countered.

Rong Jiu was at a loss for words and could only sit awkwardly on the grass, searching for another topic.

“If there are assassins, what’s to fear? Aren’t you here?” she said.

“What if there are many? I can take on ten, but not a hundred,” Mo Ningshu replied.

Rong Jiu was embarrassed and muttered to herself, This Mo Ningshu really knows how to kill a conversation. I must be out of my mind to try chatting with him.

“That’s simple. There’s still the rest of us to handle the other hundred,” she quipped.

At that moment, Song Mozi suddenly appeared, breaking the awkward silence.

He had noticed Rong Jiu running over to speak to Mo Ningshu, and a pang of jealousy stirred within him, prompting him to follow.

“Your Highness is formidable, but caution is always wise,” Mo Ningshu remarked.

“I’m well aware of that,” Song Mozi replied.

Now, Rong Jiu found herself caught between them, sensing a chill in the air and a tension that felt like gunpowder ready to ignite.

She couldn’t help but shiver.

Damn, what’s wrong with these two?

Rong Jiu forced a laugh. “Well, since you two have so much to discuss, I’ll leave you to it!”

Before the words had fully left her lips, she darted off to join Meng Zigu and the others.

“Jiu’er, you’ve come at just the right moment. Do you know how to play chess? Why don’t you help me decide where to place this black piece?” Meng Zigu greeted her warmly as she arrived.

“Um… I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rong Jiu said, glancing at the board, then at Shen Mingshan and Yunniang opposite Meng Zigu, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

After all, most chess players disliked interference, and besides, she didn’t even know the rules—she hadn’t the slightest clue what was going on!

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with it. Look at those two, husband and wife working together to bully me alone!” Meng Zigu pouted, pointing at the pair across from him.

His remark about “husband and wife working together” made Yunniang blush, prompting her to steal a glance at Shen Mingshan. But he remained his usual cold self, seemingly untouched by Meng Zigu’s words.

Yunniang felt a twinge of disappointment.

“But I…” Rong Jiu began, wanting to explain her ignorance of chess, but Meng Zigu interrupted her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Just take this piece and help me place it.”

Without waiting for her consent, he pressed the chess piece into her hand.

Rong Jiu looked at the three, bewildered and uncertain, staring at the large chessboard, unsure where to begin.

“The Princess needn’t be nervous—just place it wherever you like,” Yunniang said gently, having discerned Rong Jiu’s apprehension.

Rong Jiu smiled gratefully and casually placed the piece somewhere on the board.

The moment the piece touched the board, Meng Zigu exclaimed, “Jiu’er, you’re brilliant! How did I not think of that move?”

Rong Jiu was baffled by the praise, wondering how such a random placement could be right.

“Well, Mingshan, you’re cornered now. Admit defeat!” Meng Zigu said triumphantly to Shen Mingshan.

Shen Mingshan smiled and set down his piece. “As expected of the Princess. I concede this round.”

Rong Jiu offered an awkward smile, thinking it was nothing but luck.

“Wonderful! Don’t forget to send that bottle of fine wine to my manor later—no backing out!” Meng Zigu exclaimed, jumping to his feet with excitement.

So the game had been a wager for wine.

Rong Jiu couldn’t help but smile at Meng Zigu’s childish delight.

“When have I ever reneged?” Shen Mingshan replied with a helpless smile.

“This round was won thanks to you, Jiu’er. Let me think how I should thank you,” Meng Zigu pondered, propping his chin in thought.

“No, no need—really, there’s no need to thank me,” Rong Jiu hurriedly declined, not daring to accept such gratitude.

“That won’t do. I, Meng Zigu, always repay kindness,” Meng Zigu declared righteously.

Unable to argue, Rong Jiu accepted with nervous resignation.

Meanwhile, Qiao Muqing carefully helped Mingyu up. Unfortunately, Mingyu had twisted her ankle in the fall. As soon as she moved, pain forced a sharp intake of breath.

“Did you twist your ankle?” Qiao Muqing frowned, gently examining her injury. The moment he touched her, Mingyu cried out in pain.

“It’s nothing. Just help me onto the horse,” Mingyu murmured, head bowed.

“Get on,” he said.

“Huh?” Mingyu looked up, puzzled, only to see Qiao Muqing already crouched down with his back to her.

“Can you climb on by yourself?” His voice was even softer.

“Mhm!” The gloom in Mingyu’s heart vanished. Ignoring the pain, she climbed onto Qiao Muqing’s back, and the warmth reminded her of childhood.

“Do you remember? You used to carry me like this all the time when we were little,” she said, burying her face in his back.

Qiao Muqing didn’t answer, just kept moving forward, the horse obediently following behind.

When he didn’t respond, Mingyu’s eyes dimmed. She took a deep breath, as if summoning courage, and spoke timidly.

“Brother Qing, please don’t avoid me anymore, alright?”

His body visibly trembled at her words, but he resumed walking as if nothing had happened.

“The Princess is almost of age now. You’re no longer a child and should understand the propriety between men and women.”

“But I want to be with the one I love. There’s nothing wrong with that. And, I told you as a child that I would marry you one day…” Her voice grew smaller.

“You’re a noble princess. You should marry someone more distinguished, not a humble general like me,” Qiao Muqing said with a bitter smile.

“To me, you’re the most outstanding. I know you love me too, don’t you? Why won’t you admit it? What are you afraid of?” Mingyu choked out, holding back tears from pain but unable to restrain them when faced with his rejection.

Qiao Muqing stopped in his tracks, his heart awash with conflicting emotions.

Yes, he loved her—had always loved her—but he understood that some feelings, as years passed, could only be kept deeply hidden.

No matter how much they loved each other, the barrier of their different statuses could not be crossed.

Just as the Empress had told him, “Yu’er is the most beloved princess of the royal family. Her future husband must come from a distinguished family, worthy of her. Besides, she’s still young and doesn’t understand what love is. Her feelings for you are mere dependence. I ask you to stay away from her in the future and not hinder her.”

“Why won’t you answer me? Why must you always be a coward?” Mingyu’s voice trembled, and she finally broke down in quiet sobs.

“I do love you, but I know I’m not worthy. If two people are destined to have no future, it’s better to sever ties early,” Qiao Muqing said, taking a deep breath and voicing his heart.

The surroundings were silent—so silent that the sound of wind rustling leaves could be heard.

Mingyu sniffled. After so many years, she had finally heard him say those words.

“You haven’t even tried—how do you know there’s no future? So what if I’m a princess? Don’t I have the right to choose love?” Mingyu paused, then softly added, “Brother Qing, do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you admit you love me? Hearing it from your own lips makes me so happy. I can disregard everything else, but I can’t live without you.”

Qiao Muqing fell silent. All these years, he had been held back by the Empress’s words, suppressing Mingyu’s passion with cruel resolve. Every time he saw her cry after he left, his heart broke.

Mingyu had never given up, but he had kept running. She was right—how would he know the outcome if he never tried?

Why couldn’t he be brave just once?

“You’re right. I was too cowardly. I’m sorry for making you bear so much alone,” Qiao Muqing said, full of remorse.

“It’s alright. As long as you stay by my side, I fear nothing,” Mingyu replied with a bright smile.

“Silly girl, don’t do such foolish things again.”

For so long, no one else had come looking for them, and he had already guessed why.

“So you knew all along… It’s only because you wouldn’t admit it. But there won’t be a next time,” Mingyu said shyly, hiding her face on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. This time, I won’t run anymore,” Qiao Muqing promised.

No matter what, he would never let go again.

“Hey, why is Muqing taking so long to bring Mingyu back? Could something have happened?” Meng Zigu asked anxiously.

“Rest assured, there’s nothing to worry about,” Song Mozi replied.

“You don’t seem concerned about your sister at all!” Meng Zigu said, looking at him with disdain.

“It’s not that I don’t care—it's that I trust Muqing,” Song Mozi said, sipping his tea.

“They’re coming,” Shen Mingshan remarked softly.

Everyone looked up. Qiao Muqing was carrying Mingyu out of the woods, with the little red horse obediently following behind.

“See? I told you so!” Song Mozi smiled in relief.

He hadn’t expected little Jiu’er to be so clever. It seemed the pair had rekindled their sweetness. But when, he wondered, would little Jiu’er come to like him as well?

Song Mozi turned to look at Rong Jiu beside him. Her radiant smile outshone the sun.

This bitter longing, perhaps only he could understand.

He laughed at himself.