Chapter 17

Chapter 17 “...Helan...” “I have no intention of defying Your Majesty. It is simply the way of the world. What has happened is forever confined to the past. No matter what one does afterward, one cannot change the facts that have already come to pass.” “And people’s hearts gradually change along with the passage of time and the changing world.” Shaoyin looked at Xiao Heng and said, “In the past, I truly did love Your Majesty. The Shaoyin of the past would certainly have been delighted to see this room filled with peonies. But I am no longer the person I was, and I do not need Your Majesty to make amends for anything. I stopped caring about the past long ago. I stopped keeping any of it in my heart long ago.” Shaoyin sincerely implored Xiao Heng, “Your Majesty, please let it all go as well.” Xue Shaoyin regarded the past as smoke, but every single thing that had happened was carved into Xiao Heng’s heart like a bloodstained knife of regret. How could he possibly let it go? In his desperation, Xiao Heng seized Xue Shaoyin by the shoulders, intending once more to pour out his feelings to her. But Xue Shaoyin had already been utterly exhausted in body and mind these past few days. Now that she saw she still could not reason with Xiao Heng, her countless worries left her even weaker. Moreover, the room was filled with peonies, with heated flues warming the floor and several braziers placed around it. Although it was warm, it was also rather stuffy. Thus, Xue Shaoyin, already weary and frail in both body and mind, suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Her vision blurred, her body went limp, and she seemed about to faint. “Ayin... Ayin!” Xiao Heng hurriedly caught Xue Shaoyin and lifted her into his arms. As he carried her swiftly to the couch in Plum Grove, he ordered the palace attendants to summon the imperial physician at once. Imperial Physician Guo Qian had examined County Princess Yongning for her cold a few days earlier. Now, summoned to Plum Grove, he took her pulse and examined her thoroughly before respectfully reporting to His Majesty that County Princess Yongning was in no serious danger. Her cold simply had not yet abated, leaving her body weak. Xiao Heng was terribly worried about Xue Shaoyin. Upon hearing this, he angrily rebuked the physician, “It is only a minor cold. How can it be so difficult to treat that it has not improved after several days? If you are this incompetent, get out of the Imperial Medical Academy at once and make room for someone else!” Under the emperor’s fury, Physician Guo broke into a cold sweat despite the depths of winter. He hurriedly knelt on the floor and reported, “County Princess Yongning’s pulse is sluggish and obstructed, her breathing unsteady and troubled. There are signs that her heart is burdened with grief. In this physician’s opinion, the reason County Princess Yongning’s cold has lingered so long is precisely because her heart is troubled, preventing her from resting and recuperating in peace.” Having said this anxiously, Physician Guo immediately knocked his head against the floor. Everything he had reported was the truth. But he feared that if His Majesty did not believe him, he would still bear the brunt of the emperor’s anger. Trembling as he lay prostrate on the ground, he heard His Majesty fall silent for a moment. Then, seemingly having reined in some of his temper, the emperor ordered him to prepare and decoct a prescription at once. Physician Guo naturally agreed without delay, then quickly rose and backed out of the room. Xiao Heng sat down beside the couch and took a damp cloth from a palace maid, gently wiping Xue Shaoyin’s faintly feverish face. Xue Shaoyin seemed utterly exhausted. At this moment, she appeared either to have weakly fainted or to have sunk into a deep sleep. Weariness lay between her brows and eyes, and her lips were pale. It was as though being with him, Xiao Heng, truly left her... so very tired. Yet in the past, Xue Shaoyin had seemed not to know what it meant to be disheartened or weary. Every time he angered her, the next time she came to see him, her eyes would once again be bright and clear, her laughter as light as a bell, and she would call him “Cousin” again and again. There would be no trace of the tears that had filled her eyes when she left the time before. Her love for him had been like warm sunlight, always able to swiftly evaporate the tears of sorrow, making every hurt seem to disappear without a trace, as though it had never existed. But when had Xue Shaoyin’s tears over him begun to grow fewer and fewer? When had it begun that, upon seeing him with Jiang Ningyan, Xue Shaoyin no longer flew into a rage or quarreled endlessly? Instead, she would simply watch in silence, without a trace of tears in her eyes. And after watching for a while, she would turn her gaze away, looking out at the silent courtyard beyond the window. In the past, Xue Shaoyin would quarrel with him and weep as she accused him of treating her unfairly, accused him of making her sad. But that time, Xue Shaoyin merely leaned against the window and watched the osmanthus blossoms outside bloom and fall in silence. Quietly, she said, “Cousin, when you always act like this, it makes me very sad.” Her eyes were not red, and there were no tears. She did not even look at him. She said that she would be very sad, yet there was not the slightest trace of sorrow in her tone. It was so faint, so faint, like a wisp of smoke that could not be caught in one’s hand. And what had he been doing then? He had glanced once at Xue Shaoyin’s back, then continued letting Jiang Ningyan grind his ink and continued writing his essay, acting as though he had heard nothing. Many years later, Xiao Heng’s heart clenched violently. Regret surged through him like a tidal wave, as though a giant hand were tearing at his internal organs. It wrenched his throat raw, making it so hoarse and painful that he could hardly produce a sound. “...Ayin... Ayin...” He bent over beside the couch and called out to her in remorse. The voice he forced up from the depths of his heart was hoarse, as though it had been scraped raw by a blunt-edged blade, carrying the blood and tears of his regret for the past. Xue Shaoyin seemed to hear him calling. In her unconscious sleep, her brows drew together faintly. One hand rose slightly in confusion, as if chasing after that voice. Even in the depths of her murky dreams, she instinctively followed the master of the voice that called her “Ayin.” Xiao Heng hurriedly reached out and took Xue Shaoyin’s hand, clasping it tightly in his own and pressing it against his cheek. He said urgently, “Ayin, I am here.” Perhaps because her hand had been caught, Xue Shaoyin no longer seemed like duckweed with nothing to cling to in her dream. The anxious heat in her face gradually faded, and infinite longing and attachment gathered between her lowered brows and eyes. Her lips and teeth moved faintly as she murmured, “...Helan...” Xiao Heng froze beside the couch, as though he could no longer make the slightest movement or utter a single word. Like stone, he was frozen solid by the biting snow, all thought and breath locked within him. He held Xue Shaoyin’s hand tightly, listening as she murmured “Helan” again and again. When it seemed that she received no response, worry and anxiety once more rose between the brows and eyes filled with longing. Her voice grew increasingly lost and uneasy. “...Helan... Helan...” “...Yes... I am here...” At last, Xiao Heng answered in a hoarse voice. With a gentle tone, he responded to Xue Shaoyin, who was searching for her dead husband in her dream. “...I am here... I am here...” Though his voice was gentle, every word felt like a knife in his heart. After receiving a response from her “dead husband,” Xue Shaoyin on the couch finally found a measure of peace. She was no longer anxious and lost, as though she had finally found the place where her heart could rest for the rest of her life. The furrow between her brows slowly smoothed away. Murmuring her husband’s name softly, she gradually sank into a calm and settled sleep. Xiao Heng sat silently guarding Xue Shaoyin beside the couch, like a reef by the sea, quietly enduring the wind, the sun, and the crashing waves throughout the soundless years. The snow outside grew heavier, blowing and pulling like tufts of cotton and strands of silk, hazily covering the entire world. Everywhere was a desolate, bleak whiteness. A thousand miles lay sealed in ice, as though this bitter winter were endless and without end. And the peonies in that room, which should have belonged to warm spring, continued to bloom in solitude, long after there was no one left to see them.