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墨書 Inktalez
The wind stirred the tassels on the canopy, swaying gently, much like his chaotic and wounded heart.
"Your Highness, Lady Qing is here..." After years of following Li Song, Xiao Xiangzi understood his master's thoughts better than anyone else. He knew that Lady Qing held a special place in the prince's heart.
Although the prince had just angrily declared his intentions, Xiao Xiangzi believed that his master surely had other plans in mind.
Sure enough, Li Song instructed, "Find a decent medical clinic to settle her down, and keep her whereabouts from outsiders for now."
"Understood, Your Highness."
After dismissing everyone, Li Song walked along the corridor with his hands clasped behind his back. A branch lay across his path.
He reached out and snapped it forcefully. With a sharp crack, the twig broke and fell softly to the ground.
In the dim light of night, his gaze turned cold and piercing. "Qing'er, must I completely crush you to keep you by my side?"
Yuan Qing slowly moved to the edge of the bed, leaning forward to reach for the teacup on the table.
In her moment of distraction, she lost her balance and tumbled off the bed.
Resigned, she closed her eyes, bracing for the anticipated pain, but instead found herself falling into a warm embrace.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Cui Hu looking at her with a smile that was both teasing and gentle.
"I'll handle these things from now on; you just focus on recovering," Cui Hu said. His handsome features glowed in the sunlight, radiating warmth that enveloped Yuan Qing.
“ Mr. Cui, how did you know…” Yuan Qing didn’t want him to worry about her, nor did she want him to see her in such a disheveled state. So after leaving the Eastern Palace, she didn’t contact him immediately.
Cui Hu poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to her, his usually bright smile tinged with a hint of sorrow.
“All you need to know is that my feelings for you are the same as yours for me.” Cui Hu was just a humble scholar, lacking immense power or a strong background, unable to take her away from the Eastern Palace.
He could only watch helplessly as she suffered for him; this sense of grievance and helplessness, this heartache and bitterness, was something others could not understand.
But Yuan Qing understood, so she smiled warmly and kissed his cheek.
As he turned away in embarrassment, she laughed and told him, “That’s all I need to hear.”
She insisted that he focus on his studies and forbade him from visiting her, allowing only correspondence through letters.
The clinic was filled with the rich scent of medicine on that winter day as Yuan Qing stood quietly by the window, holding Cui Hu’s letter.
As she read the letter, it felt as if he were standing right in front of her, smiling as he spoke about what books he had read that day, what articles he had written, whom he had met, and what discussions he had engaged in.
In those moments, a particularly happy smile would always appear on her delicate face.
Who says that being together means having to be side by side every day?
In their own way, they were still together; wherever he was, her heart followed.
As the year drew to a close, Yuan Qing decided to embroider a pair of fragrant pouches.
She carefully selected soft silver satin and meticulously outlined the design of peach blossoms.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of drums and music outside, bustling with excitement.
Her heart jolted, and she quickly walked to the front of the clinic, asking a young man who was watching the commotion, "Whose wedding is it?"
The young man replied with a smile, "It's Cui Hu, Young Master Cui, getting married."
In that moment, Yuan Qing felt her mind go blank, standing dazed by the roadside, unsure of what to do.
She watched as Cui Hu, dressed in a bright red Wedding Robe, sat proudly atop a magnificent horse, still as handsome and refined as ever, stirring her heart.
The vibrant red was like a blazing flame, yet all she felt was a shadowy gloom; the sky and earth seemed to darken immensely.
"Why?" Yuan Qing silently questioned in her heart, knowing he had seen her.
However, he said nothing, his face devoid of expression—neither sorrowful nor joyful.
She could not see clearly; she had no idea whether he was happy or sad at that moment.
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