Chapter Five: Unaware of the Bitterness of Longing (Part One)

On the day Gu Qiuci was sacrificed alive, not a single tear was shed by the people he had devoted his life to protecting, nor by the sovereign to whom he had sworn unwavering loyalty. In that moment, it was as if the world had forgotten all he had done; he became a villain marched to the gallows, and the realm rejoiced at his demise.

Yet the only person who wept for him was someone whose name he never even knew—a sorrowful and lamentable thing.

—

When it came to beauty across the land, there was none to rival the third princess of Northern Xiao, Shen Xiruo; her allure was unmatched among the five kingdoms, and thus her marriage prospects drew great attention.

As for her talents, she excelled in every refined art—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, and song—and even the palace’s most esteemed musician admitted defeat after hearing her play “Drunken Splendor.”

And yet, despite such beauty and noble birth, the princess remained unwed. It was not for lack of suitors, but rather that she herself had no wish to marry, and in recent years her temper had grown increasingly eccentric, frightening away even the most eligible young men.

The most notorious incident was when she broke the leg of her foremost suitor, the legitimate second son of Duke Yu.

Broken? That terrified her many admirers, and they all retreated, abandoning thoughts of winning her hand—some became betrothed elsewhere, some took wives of their own.

This left the Emperor of Northern Xiao deeply troubled. He had tried, in roundabout ways, to broach the subject, but the princess would always reply with a single, unwavering “I do not wish to marry,” and speak no further.

When the princess passed her nineteenth birthday, the emperor could wait no longer. Was it that those seeking her hand were not accomplished enough? Very well, he would find a truly outstanding young man.

After careful observation, his gaze settled on Xue Yunqian, the famed young Minister of Rites, and the more he considered, the more satisfied he became.

Xue Yunqian was brilliant and capable; he was already designated as the next prime minister. The only issue was his age—twenty-six—but being older meant he would know how to cherish his wife. Had he not spent years in mourning and thus missed the usual time for discussing marriage, the emperor, already advanced in years, would never have had the chance to “snatch such a bargain.”

So, the emperor summoned Xue Yunqian to the imperial study, dismissed the attendants, and, with great affability, rambled on for a while before finally getting to the point with a beaming smile.

“My loyal minister!”

The young man, upright and dignified as a pine in winter, bowed deeply. “Your servant is here.”

The emperor stroked his beard and eyed Xue Yunqian, feigning casualness as he asked, “You have completed your mourning, have you not? Is there a lady who has caught your eye?”

Xue Yunqian replied, “I believe state affairs must come first, and personal matters can wait.”

“Excellent, excellent! You are indeed the virtuous minister of Northern Xiao, and I am greatly comforted.” The emperor nodded, his tone unchanged. “And what, my loyal minister, is your opinion of Princess Xiruo?”

At last, Xue Yunqian sensed something amiss and answered with care, “The princess is accomplished and virtuous, and her beauty is exceptional.”

The emperor studied Xue Yunqian, this time abandoning subtlety for directness. “Would you be willing to marry the princess?”

Xue Yunqian nearly agreed out of reflex, but restrained himself, his hand clenched into a fist within his sleeve.

“The princess’s status is exalted. What merit or virtue have I to deserve such an honor? I dare not even think of it.”

The emperor’s smile faded, a hint of annoyance crossing his face. “So, my loyal minister, are you refusing?”

Xue Yunqian forced a bitter smile and bowed his head. “The princess soars above like a phoenix of the heavens—she should be matched with a dragon among men. I dare not presume.”

For a moment, the emperor could not decide whether to be angry or not, and so he waved Xue Yunqian away.

Leaving the imperial study, Xue Yunqian rounded a corner and caught sight of Shen Xiruo lurking furtively behind a pillar.

Unconsciously, a smile crept onto his lips and he strode quickly toward her.

“Xue Yunqian!” Shen Xiruo beckoned.

“Princess.” Xue Yunqian bowed.

She glanced around to be sure they would not be overheard, then drew him aside and whispered, “I heard my father wanted to betroth us today. How did you answer?”

Seeing her so anxious, as though she dreaded marrying him, Xue Yunqian felt both bitterness and a mischievous urge.

“If His Majesty commands, how dare I refuse?”

“You!” Shen Xiruo stamped her foot, glancing at the distant guards to ensure no one was watching, and exclaimed, “How could you agree to that?”

Clad in pale yellow palace robes, her anger made her look like a butterfly deprived of nectar. Xue Yunqian could not tease her further and hastened to reassure her before she lost her temper.

—

“I was only teasing you. I didn’t agree.”

“Truly?” Shen Xiruo’s eyes lit up, like one glimpsing light in the darkness or a desperate soul grasping their last straw—humble and resolute, an expression he knew he would never possess.

Xue Yunqian gazed at her hair, wanting to reach out but withdrawing timidly.

“This time I could refuse, but if one day His Majesty’s will is unyielding, what then? His decree would leave no room for appeal.”

Shen Xiruo lifted her gaze to the distance, and after a long silence, she spoke softly, “If I cannot refuse, then only death remains.”

“You…” Xue Yunqian clenched his fists, then slowly relaxed, giving a wry smile. “Is your world truly filled by him alone?”

It was but a single meeting, and yet… just a single meeting—how had it become her destiny?

For the sake of a man she had met only once, she came to loathe all beneath the heavens, even herself.

She despised the ignorance and ingratitude of the world, and hated that, princess though she was, she could not save him.

When Shen Xiruo was thirteen, in the fifty-seventh year of the Zhao Moon era, she first encountered that brilliant young gentleman—Gu Qiuci, the crown prince of Baixi.

That year, at her father’s grand birthday celebration, envoys from every nation came to offer congratulations, and as the most favored princess of Northern Xiao, she was naturally present at such a feast.

Restless from palace life, she had pestered her second elder brother to let her accompany him in welcoming the delegations.

Amid the crowd, she spotted at a glance the young man who seemed to shine with his own light—brows like distant mountains, with an ethereal air. It was then she learned what it meant to be “struck at first sight,” and from that moment on, all others paled in comparison and seemed dreadfully dull.

The banquet was lively beyond compare, with hundreds gathered in the palace, tables laden with delicacies and spirits, and throngs of singers, dancers, and musicians. The sounds of pipa, flute, zither, and laughter rose and fell in endless waves.

Envoys presented their gifts and blessings, and as the crown prince of Baixi, Gu Qiuci made his own congratulatory speech. All eyes were drawn to him—how could they not be, when he was a prodigy seen but once in a thousand years?

Every expression, every smile of his, was etched into Shen Xiruo’s heart.

The noble ladies whispered about the breathtakingly handsome young man, and even the palace maids cast him admiring glances. For once, even Shen Xiruo, who never touched wine, indulged in cup after cup of strong spirits.

“Ru’er, do not drink so much. Just look at your face…”

“Ah?”

Prompted by her second brother, Shen Xiruo belatedly reached up to touch her cheek.

So hot!

“Escort the princess back to her chambers and see to her care.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Supported by her maid, Shen Xiruo left the banquet.

Passing through the imperial gardens, she saw Gu Qiuci alone in a pavilion, quietly sipping tea. In that moment, he was nothing like the dazzling figure at the feast, but instead as serene and still as a painting, too beautiful to disturb.

Ordinarily, Shen Xiruo would have known better than to intrude, but that night was different—the effects of the wine had overwhelmed her.

Waving her hand, she dismissed her maid and staggered over.

The maid dared not truly leave, and so followed at a discreet distance.

Sensing someone approach, Gu Qiuci set down his tea. Rising, he was met by a waft of wine and, turning, saw a girl with hazy eyes, flushed cheeks, and a silly smile, lunging toward him.

He frowned and nimbly stepped aside, causing her to tumble to the ground instead.

“Princess!” The maid hurried over, bowed to Gu Qiuci, and hastily helped the princess up.

Gu Qiuci waved them off, and the maid quickly led Shen Xiruo away.

—

The next day, the Baixi delegation set out for home, with the Emperor of Northern Xiao and his sons seeing them off.

When Shen Xiruo awoke, it was already mid-afternoon.

Though her memory was blurred, she distinctly recalled seeing Gu Qiuci in the imperial garden the night before; all else was lost to her.

From that day forward, she thought of him constantly, her affection growing ever deeper as time passed. Just hearing his name brought a smile to her lips.

But fate is fickle. A year later, plague broke out and could not be contained. Shen Xiruo never saw Gu Qiuci again—she only received word of his sacrifice.

So, their first meeting was also their last farewell.

—

Xue Yunqian, seeing her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, knew she was thinking of that man and said no more.

That night, curled on her bed, she did not sleep.

At dawn, her dearest second brother pushed open her palace doors and came to her bedside.

Seeing she had not slept, and that her cheeks still bore the traces of tears, he felt a pang of sorrow.

He gently stroked her hair and spoke softly, “Ru’er.”

Hearing Shen Xinan’s voice, all the emotions she had held back through the night burst forth. She threw herself into his arms and wept bitterly.

Shen Xinan patted her back, his heart aching. “You are always so strong in front of others, but only with me do you show this side. What do I owe you, hmm?”

At his words, she stopped crying, wiped her tears on his sleeve, and hoarsely asked, “Didn’t Father say you wouldn’t be back for another five days?”

“Yesterday was his death anniversary. I was worried about you, so I returned early. But still, I was too late.”

Shen Xiruo pouted, pulled away, and fiddled with her fingers. “Second brother, were you afraid I’d make a scene in the palace?”

“No, not make a scene—throw a tantrum, more like! Hahaha!” With that, Shen Xinan dashed away.

“Second brother, you dare tease me? Just wait, I’ll make you pay!” She chased after him, barefoot.

The siblings tumbled and laughed in the courtyard, startling the birds from the trees.

“All right, all right, I surrender!” Shen Xinan gasped for breath, begging mercy.

“Then I’ll let you off for now.” She settled onto the sandalwood swing.

Shen Xinan did not idle either, pushing her gently.

“Second brother.”

“Hmm?”

“In front of others you’re the model of dignity and refinement, but with me you’re never serious.”

“And aren’t you the same? Ru’er, we’re family—there’s no need to hide our true selves.”

Shen Xiruo nodded in agreement. “That’s true. By the way, have you found the great shaman from Ling Mountain?”

Had it not been for that accursed shaman and his manipulations, would her beloved Gu Qiuci have died so young? That debt, she meant to settle.

“No. I’ve searched all five kingdoms and found no trace.”

“The people say he has become immortal, but I don’t believe it.”

“Nor do I. If such a treacherous man could ascend to immortality, then Heaven truly is blind.”

“Where could he be hiding?”

Suddenly, Shen Xinan leaned close and whispered, “Ru’er, let’s pay a visit to the Pavilion of Infinite Emptiness.”

—

Three days later, Shen Xinan and Shen Xiruo quietly left Northern Xiao, galloping swiftly toward Mount Buzhou.