Chapter Ten: Qianyu Gets Drunk
At sunset, the sky was awash in crimson clouds. Tail Spoon Light Whisper had not forgotten her agreement to meet with Feng Jinye to discuss their cooperation, and as it was mealtime, she brought dinner directly to Listening Wind Pavilion to find him.
When she arrived, she discovered Feng Jinye in the midst of painting, displaying an unexpected artistic talent. Tail Spoon Light Whisper’s first reaction was amusement. Yet, as she stepped into the main courtyard, she found herself unable to look away. Feng Jinye wore a robe of deep black, his features elegant and striking, a high-bridged nose and refined brows giving him the air of a cultured young gentleman—dignified and composed, yet radiant with an effortless grace.
She cleared her throat, unsure whether Feng Jinye was lost in thought or simply hadn’t noticed her presence outside the door. To announce herself, she feigned a couple of coughs.
As he looked up and saw her enter, he became flustered and hurriedly crumpled the painting on his desk into a ball.
Tail Spoon Light Whisper thought to herself, “He’s hiding something!”
“I told Chujio not to prepare your meal tonight. I brought you dinner!” She shook the white jade wine flask in her hand, signaling that she’d also brought wine.
Feng Jinye gazed, slightly dazed, at her bright and charming smile. The gentle phrase, “I brought you dinner,” seemed to linger in his mind, warming his entire heart.
They sat together as Tail Spoon Light Whisper unpacked the dishes from the food box. The presentation was less than appealing.
She patted her forehead and explained, “I didn’t cook these!”
Indeed, the dishes weren’t of her making. She’d simply been in a playful mood on the way over and had shaken the food box a bit too much.
A hint of a smile played on Feng Jinye’s lips as he picked up the warm jade chopsticks, selecting a slice of fish and chewing it thoughtfully. After swallowing, he remarked, “It’s definitely not your cooking.”
Tail Spoon Light Whisper understood; what he meant was, the food actually tasted quite good.
When their meal was nearly done and the wine properly warmed, she handed him a flask, holding another herself, ready to begin their discussion.
Clutching the white jade wine flask, she sipped the wine and said, “To show my sincerity in this partnership, let me introduce myself first.”
Her voice was pleasant and melodious as she began, “Tail Spoon Light Whisper. My father was Tail Spoon Battling Heaven, my mother was Lu Yao.”
Speaking of her father, she took another sip before continuing, “Twelve years ago, when Li Yue and Xi Yan went to war, chaos reigned in Yue Capital. The crown prince was assassinated, the second prince hunted down—there was no one left the city could rely on.
“My father happened to save the then-unascended emperor outside Yue Capital. In gratitude, the emperor petitioned for my father, granting him a title, a mansion, and a rank, keeping him in the city.” At this, Feng Jinye was certain his guess had been correct—she was the young girl who had once tended his wounds.
“I was born into the Lu family and originally bore my mother’s surname. After she died, my father wanted to leave me with the Lu family, but I clung to him, refusing to let go. So he brought me back to the Tail Spoon family, and I became Tail Spoon Light Whisper.”
As she mentioned her mother, her eyes softened, her voice growing gentler. “My name is my mother’s one remaining hope for me. She wished that for the rest of my life, I would speak softly and smile gently.”
“But there was a small flaw—after Lu Yanran was born, my mother named her Yanran!” She pouted, clearly unwilling to be associated with Lu Yanran.
Feng Jinye watched the lightly tipsy girl before him, finding her utterly endearing. He took a swig of Clear Wind Drunk as he gazed at her.
“Lu Yanran is two months younger than I am. To outsiders, we are considered twins. Lu Light Whisper is listed in the Lu family genealogy as the eldest legitimate daughter. So I didn’t lie to you—I am both Lu Light Whisper and Tail Spoon Light Whisper.”
Tail Spoon Light Whisper lifted her gaze to Feng Jinye, her eyes full of sincerity, as if to say she had not deceived him. “My identity is complicated. I can’t explain it, and no one can give me answers.”
Feng Jinye found himself unable to meet her eyes, turning his head aside, uncertain of how to respond. Tail Spoon Light Whisper lowered her eyes, stifling her frustration, unsure whether or not Feng Jinye believed her. She remained silent for a long while.
As Feng Jinye considered how to break the silence, she spoke again, her tone dropping, “And then, about my father’s death.”
“Two years ago, Li Yue and Xi Yan went to war once more. A spy from Xi Yan set fire to Water Moon Pavilion. My father rushed into the flames to save a young woman. Afterwards, someone told him I was inside. He went in again to save me, but perished in the inferno.”
She drank deeply as she continued, “Later, rumors spread that my father was a traitor, that the person he saved was the enemy spy. The girl he rescued claimed that the one she saw that day was Tail Spoon Light Whisper.”
She downed another large gulp of wine, her words tumbling out, “The one my father saved was Luo Yanqing, second daughter of the Dingyuan Marquis. There’s talk she was born under the phoenix sign and would survive even a sea of flames.”
After speaking at length, she fell silent for some time, then said, “I’m finished. Your turn.”
Feng Jinye’s thoughts churned, his heart gripped tightly by invisible hands. He ached for her attempts at strength, wondering how many times she had wept in secret.
Before he could respond, Tail Spoon Light Whisper tilted her head back and took another long drink of Clear Wind Drunk. “You, Feng Jinye!”
She shook her wine flask, her red lips parting as she continued, “You’re the War King of Li Yue, known as the God of War on the battlefield! You have a younger sister, Feng Qingxuan, and two close friends, Yun Ming and Huangfu Chen.”
Propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand, she sipped her wine. “Feng Qingxuan loves plum blossoms, you prefer maples. That’s why the War King’s mansion sits west of the city, near groves of both trees.”
“Yun Ming is the heir of the Western Marquis and nephew to the current Empress Dowager—a true gentleman, praised as ‘a jade among men, unparalleled in the world.’” Tail Spoon Light Whisper’s cheeks were flushed, her drunkenness beginning to show.
“Huangfu Chen is the eldest legitimate son of the Diligent Marquis, though not his heir. He craves freedom—a ‘wild horse running untethered.’” She smiled faintly as she spoke of him.
A faint pang of jealousy stirred within Feng Jinye. To her, Huangfu Chen was clearly someone special.
“I know all about your rise to fame and how you earned your title. What I want to know is—what did you recall today at Mingke Residence?” she asked, her voice full of grievance, her eyes moist and clear as a mirror, deep as a tranquil lake.
Feng Jinye felt at a loss, realizing she had already drunk too much. He had thought she could handle her wine, but she’d proven otherwise.
When she heard no reply, Tail Spoon Light Whisper grew even more upset and tilted her head back, only to discover her wine was gone. She frowned, irritated by the small size of the flask, tempted to smash it in frustration—yet she remembered, somehow, that she couldn’t do so, though she couldn’t recall why.
Feeling wronged, she slapped the redwood table with her palm, but the table remained unmoved.
Feng Jinye watched her every adorable move, nearly laughing out loud. He was about to summon Qingxia to take her back when suddenly she burst into tears.
His heart twisted again. Why was she crying?
He rushed to her side, carefully examining her hand for wounds, but found no sign of injury.
Still, she wept. He asked in the gentlest voice he’d ever used, “What’s wrong?”
“Pain!” she whimpered, eyes reddening, her voice thick with tears.
He checked her hand again—still unscathed.
Outside the door, Qingxia pressed her palm to her forehead in exasperation, while Winter Warmth whispered, “Her Highness isn’t really hurt. She just wants to be comforted.”
Her tone was carefully pitched, making sure the War King could hear.
Comfort her? But how? Feng Jinye was at a loss, until he recalled a childhood memory of bandaging Tail Spoon Light Whisper’s wound. He took her wrist and gently blew on her palm, murmuring, “There, there, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
As soon as the words left his lips, his mind reeled. Hadn’t he said this countless times before? Hadn’t he comforted her just like this so many times in the past?
She let him blow on her hand, muttering in a spoiled tone by his ear, “You... still haven’t... answered me!”
Feng Jinye stiffened, helpless before her persistence. He replied softly, “I was just remembering what you were like as a child.”
When drunk and alone, Tail Spoon Light Whisper would sleep quietly; but with company, she became coquettish.
Listening to Feng Jinye’s words, she scrunched her features together, protesting between sobs, “You’re lying!”
She grabbed his sleeve to wipe her tears, still aggrieved. “When I was little, my father wouldn’t let me see outsiders. You couldn’t possibly know what I looked like back then. You must be thinking of some other young lady!”
“It has to be some other young lady. Is she prettier than me? Are her eyes as beautiful as mine? Is her nose as high? Is her skin as fair? Is she taller? As slender as I am? Does she have a voice as lovely as mine...” And so she chattered on endlessly.
Feng Jinye’s face was alight with amusement, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, that old reckless thought rising again.
Tail Spoon Light Whisper seemed unaware of his reaction, only feeling her body sway as she leaned closer to him, mumbling, “My voice is beautiful! I’ll sing for you.”
“All my life, I’ve kept you in my heart, though we may never be together forever. As long as I think of you in the deep of night, there will be a faint trace of wine in the air...”
Feng Jinye watched her lips move beneath the veil, her melodious voice lingering in the air. He clenched his fists, struggling to restrain himself...
She was so close, separated only by the veil. The urge to kiss her grew stronger and stronger, until at last he could not help himself—releasing his fists, his broad palm rose to gently caress her cheek...
Suddenly, she looked up at him, then closed her eyes and fell asleep in his arms.
The tension left his body in an instant, replaced by a guilty relief.
He let her rest against him for a long moment, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the door, where snowflakes drifted down outside. He turned back into the bedchamber, laid her gently on his bed, covered her with a quilt, and then retreated to the study.