The room’s window was open, allowing the moonlight to stream in, accompanied by a gentle breeze. The lights flickered like a reflection of a starry river.
He Sui’an watched as Qi Buyan leaned down to kiss her. Their shadows slowly intertwined on the floor. She lay there while he braced himself on either side of her, their lips and tongues moving gently against each other.
The silver ornaments in Qi Buyan’s hair, still damp from his bath, fell onto He Sui’an, carrying his unique fragrance. The sensation of the ornaments brushing her skin caused her to shiver.
He was lost in this moment.
Their lips met, licking and sucking, unable to control the moist exchange.
Unknowingly, a wave of passion spread. Qi Buyan bent his back deeper, kneeling on the floor, kissing He Sui’an with a sense of reverence and longing.
—
The golden gong rang out, heralding a radiant morning.
He Sui’an usually woke up around the hour of Chen (7-9 AM), but because she had gone to bed late last night, she was still asleep past the hour of Si (9-11 AM), sprawled out on the bed, her sleeves and skirt all in disarray.
Her entire dress was full of wrinkles from her restless sleep. While asleep, she would rub her nose, scratch her face, then her wrist, kick her legs, and turn over before continuing to sleep.
Qi Buyan was already fully dressed, sitting in a chair in the room, polishing his bone flute.
The poisonous creatures had returned to this place.
The red snake coiled on the windowsill, looking like a red flower from afar. The black snake rolled on the floor, the slender silver snake crawled back to Qi Buyan’s boots, coiling around them like silver chains.
Meanwhile, the purple spider climbed up the beam, spinning white webs to catch the passing mosquitoes and insects, leisurely moving over to enjoy its meal.
After the purple spider finished its meal, He Sui’an woke up.
She sat up.
The black snake glanced at He Sui’an’s messy hair, then slithered back under the table.
He Sui’an sat on the bed, dazed. Sometimes, right after waking up, she liked to empty her mind and stare blankly for a moment. She was in such a state now.
Qi Buyan finished polishing his bone flute and hung it back on his belt.
He stood up.
The sound of his silver ornaments brought He Sui’an back to her senses. She climbed out of bed, washed her face and mouth, noticing her long skirt was wrinkled from sleep. She tried smoothing it out with her hands, but it remained wrinkled, so she gave up.
He Sui’an hadn’t styled her hair into a butterfly bun for a while. She went to the mirror, took out some new ribbons, and started doing her hair.
In the mirror, He Sui’an’s face bore a few noticeable sleep lines.
Her skin was very prone to marking.
He Sui’an walked over to Qi Buyan and yawned, “I’m ready.”
They went out for breakfast every day, and today was no exception. The inn’s business had picked up a bit, and when He Sui’an went downstairs, she saw several guests at the counter requesting rooms.
The innkeeper, beaming, collected their payment and called for a servant to escort them upstairs. As He Sui’an passed these guests on the stairs, she felt their gazes fleetingly brush over them.
She turned to look back.
The guests followed the servant up to the second floor, chatting and laughing, without another glance in their direction, making He Sui’an feel she might have imagined it.
She still wanted to eat stuffed steamed buns, so she went to the same shop as yesterday, ordered two baskets, found a seat, and waited for the owner to bring them. Suddenly, Qi Buyan looked towards a spot across the street.
The buns arrived, and He Sui’an used her bamboo chopsticks to place one in his bowl.
Qi Buyan was still looking across the street.
“What’s wrong?” He Sui’an put down her chopsticks and followed his gaze.
Across the street, there were many people, including a young girl in a white dress playing at a mask stall. The owner, seeing that she was just looking and not buying, assumed she had no money and told her to leave.
But she refused to go.
Jiang Xuewan held a mask she really liked, muttering incoherently. At first, the owner tried to persuade her nicely, but soon lost patience and demanded she put the mask down and leave.
The owner couldn’t understand Jiang Xuewan’s ramblings, and Jiang Xuewan couldn’t fully understand the owner’s words, except for being told to leave.
She turned to go.
The owner suddenly yanked her back, “What’s wrong with you, trying to steal?”
No sooner had he said this than someone tossed some silver fragments onto the stall and grabbed the owner’s hand that held Jiang Xuewan: “I’ll buy the mask for her.”
“Okay, okay,” the owner, whose hand was nearly crushed, quickly agreed.
The one who bought the mask was a man with ugly burn scars on his face, primarily on the left side, with the right side still intact, showing handsome features. It made people think it was a pity for such a face to be ruined.
The man dressed very modestly, blending into the crowd, making it hard to discern his identity. He had a sturdy, upright physique, clearly a person who had practiced martial arts for many years.
Jiang Xuewan seemed not to recognize the man, but since he had helped her, she wasn’t as afraid.
She hugged the mask, remaining silent.
Ah Xuan looked at Jiang Xuewan with a complex expression.
Jiang Xuewan thought for a moment, fumbled in her sleeve, and took out a piece of candy, placing it in his hand, stammering, “Thank you.”
Thank him?
Ah Xuan clenched the candy in his hand. If she were clear-headed, she would probably only want to kill him to avenge her family. Before the defeat of Weicheng, he had been sent there by Liu Yan to annihilate the Jiang family.
When he arrived in Weicheng, it was still before the agreed-upon date for Liu Yan and the Hu people to attack the city, so Ah Xuan stayed in Weicheng for about ten days, during which he met Jiang Xuewan.
As the daughter of General Jiang, Jiang Xuewan embodied her father’s demeanor.
She was extremely spirited.
The first time they met, Jiang Xuewan was riding a horse and wielding a whip in the streets of Weicheng. Her blue and purple riding attire highlighted her figure, and her long ponytail swayed behind her. Her face was unadorned, yet she looked striking.
Ah Xuan stood in the marketplace when a runaway horse galloped towards him, trampling over stalls. The sound of its hooves was deafening. If he didn’t move, he would be hit and possibly killed.
Although his martial skills were high, allowing him to avoid the horse successfully or even kill it, he hesitated.
Just as Ah Xuan was about to act, Jiang Xuewan, in her riding attire, galloped up and dismounted, grabbing the reins of the runaway horse and pulling it back.
She wrapped the reins around her hands several times. Despite the rough reins chafing her skin red, she only increased her grip, using all her strength. The horse dragged her a few steps, her boots leaving marks on the ground.
Ah Xuan’s intention to kill the horse slowed.
In that critical moment, Jiang Xuewan stopped the frenzied horse.
Its hooves raised high just a step away from Ah Xuan, then stamped down, leaving deep imprints and kicking up dust, scaring the onlookers.
He looked up.
Jiang Xuewan handed the reins to a pursuing servant and saluted Ah Xuan, “Sorry, this is my horse. I apologize for startling you.”
Her voice was loud and clear, cutting through the market’s noise and reaching Ah Xuan’s ears.
As the dust settled, Ah Xuan and Jiang Xuewan’s eyes met. In the faint sunlight, the spirited girl, standing in her boots, shone brighter than the sun over Weicheng.
Ah Xuan couldn’t look away.
Jiang Xuewan approached him.
Her eyes held a hint of guilt, unaffected by the burn scars on his face. She asked, “Are you hurt?”
Ah Xuan said no, and Jiang Xuewan relaxed. She wanted to ask a few more questions, but a servant came forward, “Miss, the General is looking for you.”
“I understand.” Jiang Xuewan mounted her horse and quickly rode out of the market.
As the market returned to normal, Ah Xuan continued to stare in the direction Jiang Xuewan had gone, standing still. He had heard the servant’s words, and Weicheng had only one General, General Jiang.
So, she was General Jiang’s daughter.
From that day on, Ah Xuan found himself involuntarily inquiring about Jiang Xuewan, learning many things about her. He discovered that she was amiable, took after her father, and loved riding and archery.
He would follow Jiang Xuewan secretly, watching her smile, watching her deliver foals, and watching her help the hungry citizens of Weicheng.
In just a few short days.
Yet, Ah Xuan felt as though he knew her well.
However, on the night of Weicheng’s fall, Ah Xuan still followed orders to exterminate the entire Jiang family.
Snow was falling heavily, and Weicheng was strewn with corpses. In front of the Jiang residence, the ground was soaked in blood. He held a blood-stained sword, threw a torch inside, and in an instant, the entire Jiang residence was engulfed in flames, buildings collapsing.
His subordinates found Jiang Xuewan and were about to kill her with a single sword strike when Ah Xuan stopped them, just as Jiang Xuewan had stopped the runaway horse that day in the market. He couldn’t bear to see her die so tragically.
Ah Xuan could never forget the way Jiang Xuewan looked at him that night—full of loathing and hatred.
She wished she could tear him apart and drink his blood.
Jiang Xuewan trembled all over.
It was unclear whether it was from the pain or the anger and sorrow of losing her family.
As a citizen of the Great Zhou, how could they betray their country and collude with the Hu people to attack Weicheng, causing the deaths of so many soldiers and civilians? To cover up their betrayal, they wiped out her entire family. Jiang Xuewan hated them to death.
Surrounded by the corpses of her relatives and loyal servants who had accompanied her for years, all brutally killed.
Jiang Xuewan’s eyes were bloodshot.
She screamed hysterically, “I’ll kill you all! I’ll kill you all!”
Two of his subordinates held Jiang Xuewan tightly. She was forced to kneel in the blood-red snow, looking utterly wretched, shouting with all her might, her former heroic demeanor completely gone.
Ah Xuan’s hand holding the blood-stained sword trembled.
He couldn’t bear to look into Jiang Xuewan’s eyes or face her overwhelming desire for vengeance.
The fire at the Jiang residence grew larger, scorching the sky. In the end, Ah Xuan raised his sword and stabbed in Jiang Xuewan’s direction. The two subordinates holding her fell, clutching their throats in disbelief.
Ah Xuan had killed the two subordinates who knew Jiang Xuewan was still alive, wanting to spare her life.
Those subordinates were Liu Yan’s men.
They would undoubtedly report this to Liu Yan.
Ah Xuan knew that the only way for Jiang Xuewan to survive was for him to kill them.
Jiang Xuewan didn’t appreciate it—how could she? He was the one who led the massacre of her entire family, killing her loved ones. Trembling, she picked up their swords and used all her strength to stab him.
Unfortunately, Ah Xuan’s martial skills were superior to Jiang Xuewan’s, and she was utterly exhausted. In the end, her sword was knocked away, and she was knocked unconscious, with her acupoints sealed.
Ah Xuan planted a Gu in Jiang Xuewan.
Having followed Aunt Cui for many years, he had numerous Gu worms she had refined. Only one of them was suitable for planting in her.
After planting the Gu in Jiang Xuewan, Ah Xuan secretly placed her in a safe location, then returned to the Jiang residence to confirm there were no other survivors. He then led his men back to Chang’an and never saw her again.
Until today.
Ah Xuan saw her in the streets of Chang’an.
oh, my tragic lovers 💔