Chapter 118

Chapter 118: An Unconscious Self-Destruction and Self-Torture The dishes on the table had been reheated several times, and even the lights in the outer courtyard had gradually gone out. Only the row of lanterns leading from the gate to the Main Courtyard remained lit, along with Lihua, who stood at the entrance of the Main Courtyard, gazing toward the main gate without stepping inside, waiting for Gan Qiongying to return. Lihua could easily have sent someone to find out where Gan Qiongying was at that moment, but he chose not to. He wanted to give her absolute trust. The two of them had always shared an unspoken understanding—sharing a bed, eating together, and living side by side—while also leaving each other enough space, never delving too deeply into certain matters. Lihua had been standing under the corridor for a long time. Tianjiao, ever thoughtful, approached him several times with concern: "The night wind is chilly, Master. Wouldn’t it be better to wait inside?" The air tonight carried a hint of moisture; rain was likely to fall in the latter half of the night. Her master’s legs always ached on cloudy or rainy days. If he continued standing under the corridor, exposed to the wind, who knew how much pain he would be in tomorrow. But Lihua slowly shook his head and said to Tianjiao, "Bring me a lantern. I’ll go wait for the Princess at the gate." Tianjiao knew that her master, though gentle in appearance, was incredibly stubborn. He never listened to anyone’s advice, whether in business or in life, always unwavering in his decisions. Seeing no other option, Tianjiao lit a lantern and brought a cloak, but Lihua refused to put it on. There were times when Lihua would willingly harm himself to find calm and inner peace. He wanted to freeze himself through, so that the anticipation and fervor he felt for tonight wouldn’t burn him from the inside out, melting him like a snowman, dripping away into nothingness. He was like a beast born covered in scars, for whom pain had become a crucial outlet for maintaining clarity and sensitivity. It was an unconscious form of self-destruction and self-torture. Even now, his knees were already beginning to ache, yet he still refused to wear the cloak. Finally, Tianjiao resorted to mentioning Gan Qiongying: "Master, please put it on. If the Princess knew, how heartbroken would she be? Every day, the Princess reminds the kitchen that the Consort is frail, so nourishing soups and tonics are never neglected. There’s even an elder in the residence who observes the weather. Whenever he predicts the slightest change, the medicinal packs for your legs are kept warm all day long." Even if Tianjiao had initially held a poor impression of Gan Qiongying, always suspecting her of being momentarily infatuated with his looks and unable to forget how she had once repeatedly insulted and mistreated her master, she couldn’t help but sigh inwardly as she spoke these words. The Princess truly cared for the Consort. Mentioning Gan Qiongying proved effective. Lihua reluctantly draped the cloak over his shoulders and, lantern in hand, slowly made his way toward the main gate. Lihua’s heart was filled with anxiety. Half of it stemmed from the late hour—the real Mid-Autumn Festival was fast approaching, and it would no longer be the intimate celebration he had envisioned for just the two of them. The other half was due to his worry for Gan Qiongying. What could possibly be keeping her out so late? Apart from these, Lihua also had some unpleasant speculations—like whether Gan Qiongying didn’t want to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival with him, whether she had never taken their agreement seriously, or whether… she had encountered some stunning beauty outside and, just as when she had taken a liking to him, changed her heart overnight. The mere thought that Gan Qiongying might transfer the affection she had shown him onto someone else sent an uncontrollable shudder through his entire body. He tightened his grip on the lantern in his hand and limped toward the gate, moving faster and faster. He refused to let Tianjiao and San Jiu follow him, rushing all the way to the main entrance before stopping, panting heavily. The lantern in his hand had already gone out. Lihua lowered his head to look at the lantern, as if seeing his own heartfelt hopes ultimately turning to ashes. A certain dark and low-spirited emotion was spreading within him, and it was at this moment that he heard the jingling sound of bells belonging to the Princess Manor’s horses. Such bells were usually hung on carriages for long journeys, but all the horses at the Princess Manor wore them. During the day, as they moved through bustling markets, the bells served to alert pedestrians. At night, their jingling became a signal of return. The corners of Lihua’s mouth lifted uncontrollably. He quickly walked toward the gate again. San Jiu, having caught up to him by then, steadily supported one of Lihua’s arms. The extinguished lantern in Lihua’s hand fell to the ground. Standing at the entrance, he fixed his eyes on the returning carriage, not missing a single detail. The lanterns hanging at the main gate swayed in the cool night breeze. Their dim, yellowish light outlined Lihua’s expectant figure, yet it could not bear the weight of the intense, unspoken emotions hidden within. The carriage finally stopped at the main entrance. As the curtain was lifted, Manyue emerged first. Seeing Lihua standing at the gate, Manyue paused in surprise, then immediately instructed someone to place the stepping stool. Turning back, she said to Gan Qiongying, “Princess, the Prince Consort is at the gate.” Manyue stepped down first, respectfully bowing to Lihua before tactfully stepping aside. Sure enough, Gan Qiongying immediately lifted the carriage curtain and emerged. Upon seeing Lihua, her face instantly broke into a bright smile. Soon, standing on the carriage, she began to exclaim, “Why are you waiting here? It’s about to rain, and the wind is so chilly!” Gan Qiongying stepped onto the stool, extending her other hand directly into Lihua’s waiting grasp to steady herself, all the while complaining, “Your hands are so cold! What are these servants doing? Don’t they know to get you more layers?” From the moment Gan Qiongying appeared, with every word she spoke, the smile on Lihua’s face deepened. San Jiu and Tianjiao stood not far behind Lihua. After receiving a sharp glare from Gan Qiongying, they both lowered their heads in shame. Yet they also felt a bit wronged—aside from the Princess, whose words would the Prince Consort even listen to? They didn’t even know how they had managed to coax him into wearing that thin cloak. Gan Qiongying didn’t truly intend to blame them. She knew exactly what Lihua was like. Taking his hand, she began inspecting it, fearing that if she had returned even a moment later, Lihua might have torn off one or two of his fingernails again. After all, there had been such precedents before. Gan Qiongying had always suspected that Lihua might have some hidden peculiarity—like… finding unusual comfort in pain? Seeing that Lihua's hands were fine—just a bit cold, his complexion slightly pale, but his smile was very gentle and he hadn't done anything to harm himself—she finally breathed a sigh of relief.