Chapter Six: Vanished for a While

“If you do not understand my silence, how could you ever comprehend my sorrow? I neither cry nor smile. When I am weary, I simply disappear for a while.” Tailscoop Qianyu had once read these words, and they perfectly captured her mood at this moment.

She was a woman of the twenties in the twenty-first century—how could she possibly accept the role of a concubine? Swallowing back the curse on the tip of her tongue, Tailscoop Qianyu stepped into Evening Snow.

Evening Snow was a place she had arranged herself. The shop’s sign was a teacup she had painted, steam curling upward, with no official name. Some passing scholar had once recited, “As snow threatens in the evening, shall we share a cup?” And so it became known as Evening Snow.

When Tailscoop Qianyu entered, Xuechun was so startled she seemed flustered, her eyes fixed intently on Qianyu as she stammered, “Mistress!”

Qianyu merely nodded and headed upstairs. Evening Snow had three floors; the topmost was her private attic.

Xuechun followed, but at the final step, Qianyu paused, turned, and said, “I want no attendance, no supper, and do not allow anyone to disturb me!”

She wished for solitude.

Once in the attic, Qianyu opened the window. Across the way stood Mingke Residence. She exhaled a heavy breath—she should not have opened the window. Mingke Residence was where she had first met Feng Jinye.

It had been five summers ago, when she first transmigrated to Liyue Kingdom. Fascinated by the ancient streets, she had roamed the bustling avenues with curiosity. On her first outing, Qingxia, her maid, had been puzzled by her odd behavior. “Miss, why do you act as though it’s your first time in town?”

Qianyu brushed it off with a casual excuse, and Qingxia accepted it, remarking, “It’s good; you’re much happier than before.”

They came to a vendor selling candied hawthorn. Qianyu felt the treat fit perfectly with the ancient streets and went over to buy some. “Two skewers, please...” She gestured for Qingxia to pay, then noticed a small boy tugging at the vendor, his childish voice piping, “Candied haw!”

It was the first time she’d seen a little boy in ancient garb—adorable, she thought. She handed him a skewer and couldn’t resist pinching his cheek.

The boy’s eyes widened in alarm at her reaching hand, and he stepped back before hesitantly accepting the treat, then dashed toward Mingke Residence.

Just then, a carriage approached at alarming speed. The boy darted into the street. Qianyu realized the carriage wouldn’t stop in time and rushed forward to pull him back.

But from the second floor of Mingke Residence, a man acted first. He shattered the window and leapt down, effortlessly snatching the boy up and vanishing in a heartbeat.

That man was Feng Jinye. The more time passed, the clearer his image became in her mind—perhaps this was what the immortals called an obsession.

It was her first experience of lightness skills: Feng Jinye, descending with billowing robes, saving a child with otherworldly grace. Or at least, so it seemed for a fleeting instant. In fact, he wore dark clothing, hardly ethereal, and his gaze toward her was full of disdain. When he laughed, it was clear he was mocking her overestimating herself.

She had been drawn to Feng Jinye at first glance, for she loved all things beautiful. She used to say Feng Jinye was coldly handsome, yet stone-hearted.

But that scornful laugh shattered her illusions.

Yet afterward, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, Feng Jinye wouldn’t leave her alone.

At the Warrior Prince’s Residence, in the Tower of Words, Feng Jinye still hadn’t left, lost in thought.

Seven years ago, he, Huangfu Chen, and Yun Ming had faced an assassination attempt. Feng Jinye was struck by a poisoned arrow and fell into a deep coma.

It wasn’t until a year ago that he awoke in Mo City, Xiyan Kingdom, only to be attacked by a woman in red and then fall unconscious once more.

When Feng Jinye awoke again, Huangfu Chen and Feng Qingxuan were by his side.

Huangfu Chen told him it was he and Feng Qingxuan who had taken him to Xiyan’s capital for treatment. To hide the Warrior Prince’s condition, the world was told Huangfu Chen had been poisoned and comatose, not Feng Jinye.

For six years, Feng Jinye and Huangfu Chen had swapped identities. Feng Jinye lay “unconscious” as Huangfu Chen, while the real Huangfu Chen used the Prince’s name to intimidate enemy nations, fight battles, retake Xiyan’s cities, and help Feng Qingxuan avenge her parents.

At last, Huangfu Chen instructed him not to return to Yue. With the two kingdoms unified, the emperor wanted Huangfu Chen to bring the military seal back to the capital. If Feng Jinye returned with his army, his 350,000 soldiers would become someone else’s to command.

Feng Jinye stayed in Mo City for half a year; then, by imperial decree, he was ordered back to the capital for marriage.

Of the seventeen reclaimed cities of Xiyan, each required two thousand troops to guard. With only ten thousand left, Feng Jinye returned to Yue, but the command was no longer his.

Upon his return, he found his sister Feng Qingxuan and Huangfu Chen missing.

Before the wedding, Feng Jinye had never even heard of Tailscoop Qianyu. Her marriage into the Prince’s residence seemed suspicious, perhaps a plot by the Duke of Lu’s household.

But today, he heard the Prince had proposed to Tailscoop Qianyu. It made no sense. Even if Huangfu Chen had proposed on his behalf, he would never have sworn “In this life, I will take only one consort, neither establishing a secondary consort nor taking concubines.”

Or could it be that Huangfu Chen himself wished to marry Tailscoop Qianyu? The thought made Feng Jinye frown.

“Any news of Huangfu Chen and Qingxuan?” He’d searched for half a year without a trace and harbored little hope.

“No, sir.” As expected, Chujiu replied as always. “My lord, your shadow guards accompanied you to Mo City and have been gone from Yue for two years. Perhaps we could try sending word through Wintermoon Tower?”

Wintermoon Tower was a clandestine organization, gathering all information concerning Yue, its location unknown, akin to an assassin's guild that traded only in secrets and kept out of all else.

The next day, Dongnuan hurried to Evening Snow. She’d heard her mistress had run away from home and felt compelled to check on her.

Qianyu had slept poorly and rose only at noon, finding Dongnuan already at her bedside, eyes red as if about to cry, softly murmuring, “Miss.”

Qianyu jumped in alarm. “What are you doing?”

Dongnuan smiled through her tears. “If you won’t cry, let me do it for you!” Qianyu raised an eyebrow—she’d expected as much.

Dongnuan and Banqiu were both born of the shadow guard; life and death meant little to them. How could it be that after half a year apart, she’d cry upon seeing her?

“You actually came running here? I’m flattered,” Qianyu said serenely.

“I bring news: someone from Wintermoon Tower is searching for Princess Xuan and Huangfu Chen. The Warrior Prince’s Residence is looking for them!”

“That makes sense. I haven’t seen Qingxuan or Huangfu at the residence either.” Qianyu massaged her temple with one hand. Seeing this, Dongnuan came over to help knead her temples.

Qianyu closed her eyes and asked, “Have you any news?”

“None, only that they vanished a year ago on the road back to Yue.” Dongnuan privately suspected they’d been harmed, watching Qianyu carefully for signs of worry.

But Qianyu was not concerned. She didn’t believe Huangfu Chen would die so easily, especially with Feng Qingxuan by his side—he would never let her perish with him.

Qianyu suspected their disappearance was connected to Feng Jinye. If someone had targeted Huangfu Chen and Feng Qingxuan, would Feng Jinye be next?

A year ago, Huangfu Chen returned to Yue with Feng Jinye’s military seal. Was their enemy after the seal? Was it the emperor himself? With the unification of both kingdoms, the emperor would most want to reclaim military power. But even if the emperor didn’t act, Huangfu Chen would have handed the command over; yet who could fathom an emperor’s mind?

Qianyu sighed inwardly; it seemed she would have to return to the Warrior Prince’s Residence. But she would never accept being a concubine.

Dongnuan, reading Qianyu’s thoughts, laughed softly. “There’s news from the residence: Lu Yanran has been locked in Qinglan Court, and the doors are barred!”

Dongnuan thought to herself: she knew their lord would never be so heartless!

Qianyu glanced at Dongnuan, then turned away, still unwilling to forgive Feng Jinye or return to the residence.

“Mistress, Qingxia has been brought back to the residence. Shall we leak some information so the shadow guards can find you?” Dongnuan suggested.

Qianyu felt a pang—Dongnuan always sided with Feng Jinye, helping him placate her.

“Dong, why don’t you go back to the shadow guard barracks?” Qianyu opened her eyes, seized a soup dumpling, and took a fierce bite.

Dongnuan shuddered. “Miss, the lord doesn’t remember me—how could I return? And if he did, I’d be even less willing! I’m not speaking for him; I truly believe it’s best for you to return.”

“Then stop dawdling and do your job—help your mistress with her hair!” Qianyu pretended to be angry. “And later, ask Xuechun to prepare a horse!”

She needed a breath of fresh air. She couldn’t mope indoors all day; sentimentality was, to her, a failing.

Qianyu was notoriously terrible with directions, yet today she insisted on venturing out alone. Xuechun and Dongnuan exchanged worried glances, each silently asking—would their mistress get lost?

Noticing their expressions, Qianyu said coldly, “If I don’t return, don’t bother looking for me.”

From Evening Snow, a straight road led to the city’s north gate. Qianyu mounted and spurred her horse in that direction.

“Miss is leaving the city!” Xuechun cried, alarmed.

But Dongnuan was unconcerned. “Let her go—she has her own plans.”

At the Warrior Prince’s Residence, in Listening Wind Tower, Feng Jinye had again dreamt of the assassin in red. The figure grew clearer in his mind each night. Upon waking, he asked Chujiu, “Any news?”

“No, sir,” Chujiu replied nervously. These days, he feared the prince’s anger. “My lord, Lady Qianyu’s maid Qingxia was brought back yesterday. Shall I question her?”

Feng Jinye doubted Qingxia would know anything. Instead, he asked, “Where was she found?”

“In the north of the city,” Chujiu replied.

“Send the shadow guards to search there.” With that, Feng Jinye rose abruptly. “Today, you’ll accompany me to Mingke Residence!”

Chujiu was startled—clearly the prince wished to search in person.

“Go select some tea,” Feng Jinye added, trying to sound casual, then paused. “Bring the maid as well.”

At Mingke Residence, Feng Jinye took a window seat on the second floor, gazing outside. He asked Chujiu, “What’s that place across the street?”

Qingxia was startled; she knew the prince frequented Mingke Residence but hadn’t expected this question.

“My lord, that’s a pastry shop called Evening Snow,” Chujiu replied respectfully.

Evening Snow—the Duke of Lu had mentioned it yesterday. Feng Jinye recalled the duke bringing pastries to placate Tailscoop Qianyu. He turned to Qingxia. “Go buy a few of the ones your mistress likes.”

Qingxia shivered in the cold, sweat breaking out on her back. In her heart, she prayed: Miss, please come back soon and save me!