Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
After that, I could no longer gallop across the grasslands.
I fell ill, coughing up blood and tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep.
In my dreams, fragments of memories replayed endlessly, reminding me of every moment spent with Mao Dun. His coldness and tenderness intertwined into a piercing pain that expanded within my heart.
My fingers clutched the thin blanket, drenched in sweat, and I found myself calling his name, as if that was the only way to ease the suffering inside me.
A gentle voice echoed in my dream: "It was I who harmed you. If you wish to escape, go to Yanzhi Mountain."
I wanted to listen more closely, but was startled awake by the loud voice of a slave. Her tone was laced with tears: "Great Chanyu, the Empress has been ill for ten days, and you have not been here... It seems the Empress is beyond saving."
I heard the sound of a medicine jar shattering and his furious roar: "What are these things? Why do they have no effect at all?"
The slave fell to her knees in fear, exclaiming, "Lord Chanyu, that was the medicine sent by the princess. The Empress became gravely ill after taking it, so we dare not use it again. I brewed another potion, but the Empress said it would be useless to take any more."
"Qing Shui..."
A warm drop of liquid fell onto my face. I opened my eyes to see Mao Dun Chanyu clad in armor.
That princess must have been instigated by Lü Hou, wanting to eliminate me first—the thorn in her side—before making her move against Chanyu.
Unfortunately for her, she underestimated me. I wasn't foolish; I knew she intended to poison me. I wouldn't leave; I simply couldn't bear to part with this grassland or with Mao Dun.
I found myself willing to seek death, yet unable to part from this place; this love had already seeped into my very bones.
“Qing Shui, wake up…”
The man, usually so cold, had tears in his eyes as he held my hand tightly, as if trying to transfer his strength to me.
I smiled faintly and said in a weak voice, “Did you know that my original name is also Qing Shui? I lived far away from here, in a place called Xi'an… the Chang'an you know. It was beautiful, very beautiful, but it couldn't compare to the grasslands because… there was no man like Mao Dun, resembling a gray wolf.”
I suddenly coughed violently, crimson blood seeping between my fingers, as if life were slowly slipping away.
“Qing Shui, don’t leave me. If you are not in this world, what use is it for me to have conquered this land?”
My last impression was of Mao Dun kneeling on the ground in a daze, howling at the sky. He must have been wondering why just a moment's delay in realization meant he would lose forever.
In a daze, my soul ascended Yanzhi Mountain. Under the vast expanse of silvery moonlight, I danced gracefully, leaving behind a message of love in the sky: Mao Dun, if fate allows, we shall meet beneath Yanzhi Mountain.
That night, the moonlight was as gentle as water. Mao Dun Chanyu seemed to age significantly overnight; time etched deep lines on his face.
In 174 BC, Mao Dun passed away and was buried beneath Yanzhi Mountain. His son Ji Zhou was established as Chanyu and was known as Elder Chanyu.
No danger could halt my steps as Su Qingshui. Standing at the foot of Yanzhi Mountain, I wrapped my clothes tightly around me with a sense of vigor.
Suddenly, I spotted a cluster of blooming Egrets; how curious that Egrets would thrive here too.
I curiously reached out to pick it, but a hand grabbed mine.
That hand was long and strong, with distinct knuckles.
I turned my head to see a man quietly watching me from behind. His face was sharply defined, as if carved from stone, and his lips curved into a gentle smile that contrasted sharply with his cold demeanor.
A handsome man! The kind I liked!
I swallowed hard, a wave of inexplicable anticipation rising within me.
A new story was about to unfold here.
Comment 0 Comment Count