After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 19

The next day was the Qixi Festival.

In Da Chen, the Qixi Festival, also known as the Qiqiao Festival, followed the customs of the former Chu state. The palace maids took down the silk lanterns from the eaves and hung up glass lanterns, also making various delicate pastries from flour and lard.

Zheng Zhiyi was inside, munching on pastries while practicing her calligraphy, while Qun Qing led a group to inspect the South Garden.

The flowers in the flower beds had all been neatly transplanted, and a few had already formed tender buds.

The existing flowering trees were trimmed in an orderly manner, their branches adorned with bright red flowers, resembling a tree full of pomegranate blossoms, vibrant and captivating. One cicada held a twig and said, 

“When the time comes, we can hang our wish notes here, and it will be complete.”

Seeing that the palace was well-decorated, Qun Qing asked, 

“Have the invitations for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince been delivered?”

Lan Yue suddenly looked dispirited. 

“Do we still need to send them? I just passed by the Luanyi Pavilion, and it was already brightly lit and beautifully decorated inside. His Highness must have made arrangements to accompany Princess Bao’an already. Sending the invitations… we’d just look like clowns.”

Qun Qing thought for a moment and said, 

“Let’s send one anyway.”

She entered, dipped her brush, and began writing the invitation. Before she knew it, several people crowded around to see, completely blocking her light.

The hopeful gazes of everyone made Qun Qing feel even more pressure, as her handwritten invitation would hardly have any miraculous effect.

Last Qixi Festival, Li Xuan and Chancellor Meng had a very unpleasant argument regarding the appointment of the Crown Princess, which made them lose interest in meeting Yang Fu.

She could only gamble, hoping that this matter hadn’t changed.

After handing the invitation to Lan Yue, Qun Qing took a lantern and went out to retrieve the wish notes hanging from the trees.

She disliked the feeling of passively waiting for results and was used to doing something else to distract herself.

Today, as the palace celebrated, lanterns were added by the curved pond, and when night fell, the area was illuminated with a shimmering glow. With the hundreds of lanterns held by the palace maids, the view from afar resembled a galaxy on the ground, a truly delightful sight.

However, many were gathered at the pond’s edge under the large weeping willows to collect their wish notes, chatting in groups, creating a cacophony of voices.

For a while, Qun Qing listened to the commotion around her, with people complaining that the officiating priest was late and then suddenly cheering because a new official had taken over the role. She couldn’t see the officiating priest from afar or hear the distant sounds, so she could only follow the crowd, stopping and going.

Feeling the breeze by the riverside and letting her mind wander was a luxury for Qun Qing. As she thought about it, she loosened her collar and let the cool river breeze tousle her hair and penetrate her thin garments.

After walking a hundred steps, she could finally see the pavilion where the officiating priest sat, the place for collecting wish notes.

Following the customs of the former Chu state, the officiating priest was usually an official of the sixth rank or higher who would take turns to help the palace maids by using their valuable writing skills to craft wish notes, hoping for good fortune.

The palace maids, who rarely had opportunities to interact with outside gentlemen, found it fresh and exciting.

At this moment, Qun Qing overheard them gossiping again: 

“The ladies of the palace are already at the front; each one is violating regulations by asking for three or five wish notes. Look at that palace maid next to Lady Lu, she won’t stop talking to the officiating priest.”

“They don’t care about the lives of those standing behind them; my legs are swelling from standing so long.”

“Just bear with it; who told you she’s from the favored consort’s palace?”

As Qun Qing moved a few steps closer, the surroundings suddenly became quiet.

The officiating priest’s figure became clear; he was a young scholar, exuding elegance like jade. The palace maids all stared at him, not wanting to make any noise and leave a bad impression.

The closer she got, the clearer his features became, evoking a breathtaking feeling. The surroundings were so quiet that only the sound of the river breeze blowing the bells could be heard, tinkling softly.

Suddenly, Qun Qing’s steps came to a halt.

She recognized who it was!

Instinctively, she wanted to leave the line, but the palace maids behind her had already crowded in, and just then, the officiating priest raised his eyes several times, his gaze sweeping over her as he continued talking to the maids in front. Aside from her cold sweat, everything around remained unchanged.

Qun Qing thought to herself, on that day when the bamboo curtain was lifted, he had only glanced at her. Today, he was in different attire, and with the darkness settling in, was there a chance that Lu Huating wouldn’t recognize her at all?

With this thought, Qun Qing stepped forward, lantern in hand, to approach Lu Huating.

The silk lantern on the table illuminated the floral embroidery on Lu Huating’s official robe. Rarely dressed formally, he appeared extraordinarily handsome, almost ethereal.

He did not raise his head, casually gathering the notes on the plate. After a moment, he smiled and said, “Miss, you must tell me which palace you belong to.”

Qun Qing realized for the first time that they had fallen into a mutual silence; he was waiting for her to introduce herself.

Being evasive would raise suspicion, so Qun Qing replied, “Qing Xuan Pavilion.”

Lu Huating’s hand paused momentarily. Fearing he hadn’t heard clearly, she raised her voice slightly: 

“In the palace of Crown Prince’s consort, Zheng Liangdi.”

Upon hearing this, Lu Huating set aside the dark purple note meant for the consort and drew a green note instead. 

“What wish does your esteemed master have?”

Qun Qing had thought this through on the way and boldly declared, 

“To know each other and make a heartfelt promise as husband and wife.”

Lu Huating’s pen paused again. It was unclear whether he, like the courtiers, found it impossible to imagine how the wild and free Zheng Zhiyi could ever “know and promise” the Crown Prince, or how they could be “of one heart.”

But Qun Qing did not blush at all. Making a wish requires boldness.

The river breeze was strong, puffing out several lanterns and sending the notes on the plate fluttering. Lu Huating’s right hand, gripping the brush, was wrapped in heavy plain silk, and when he applied force, faint bloodstains showed through. The wind whisked one of the notes onto the silk, smudging the wet ink in an instant.

Qun Qing watched him coldly, realizing he was still injured from the day he caught the blade bare-handed, unable to handle the strain.

If it were someone else, Qun Qing would have rushed to help press down the paper. But this was Lu Huating; she stood still. He used his left hand to grab a paperweight, pressing down the note, quickly crumpling the smudged one, and pulled out a fresh sheet to rewrite, showing no signs of fluster. 

“Miss, please wait a moment.”

Qun Qing quietly watched him write, her gaze drifting to his face.

During this time, Prince Yan faction must have been in turmoil. As the chief advisor, Lu Huating could still calmly enter the palace for duty, which showed his inner strength.

She had never seen Lu Huating display panic or despair. Today, she could not observe any signs of defeat on his face either.

Qun Qing’s heart was in turmoil.

She hoped for the Prince Yan to be ousted, yet she wanted to bet on Lu Huating’s victory; that way, she wouldn’t have to complete the dangerous task.

The jingling sound by her ear was grating, interrupting her thoughts. The river wind not only swayed the wind chimes but also dimmed the light within the lantern.

As she could no longer clearly see the characters, Qun Qing couldn’t help but raise the lantern in her hand, casting light onto the note.

The light illuminated Lu Huating’s fingers, making them appear glazed.

As the paper suddenly brightened, his pen paused once more.

Qun Qing looked up, searching for the source of the sound. A copper coin, roughly tied with cotton thread, was hanging from the crossbeam of the pavilion, its jingling coming from the clinking of the coins.

A hand with distinctly defined fingers took down the wind chime.

Qun Qing turned her head abruptly. Lu Huating had stood up from behind the table at some point and was holding the wind chime in his hand. He raised it slightly, looking up at it with a somewhat teasing expression: 

“A small skill, thanks to Miss’s kindness.

Lu Huating’s gaze suddenly shifted from the wind chime to her face. Seeing the stiff expression on Qun Qing’s face, his smile brightened, colder, like a sword glinting in the dark: 

“Take it, it was meant for you.”

Saying this, he folded the wish note and the wind chime together and handed them to her.

Qun Qing lowered her eyes to count the coins; there were exactly ten, ringing in her mind like thunder.

—That’s still three golden pearls and ten coins owed to me.

—I don’t like owing anyone. Which palace are you assigned to? Someone will deliver them one afternoon.

He had recognized her long ago, merely teasing her, and he had also figured out where she was stationed…

“Qun Qing! Qun Qing!” At that moment, she heard someone calling her name. 

“His Highness has arrived; he really has come…”

It was Lan Yue’s voice.

Originally, Lan Yue didn’t know where Qun Qing was, but she was so excited that she had told every palace maid she encountered, 

“His Highness has come to Qing Xuan Pavilion.” 

The others, seeing her like a madwoman, voluntarily parted the crowd, allowing her to spot Qun Qing among the maids.

Lan Yue squeezed through the crowd into the pavilion and, hearing the complaints from behind, saw Qun Qing holding a string of coins. Upon raising her head, she bumped into Lu Huating’s face, momentarily stunned. 

“Did you get the wish note? What are you doing?”

“This gentleman’s wind chime fell; he asked me to tie it back up for him.” 

Suddenly, Qun Qing tossed the lantern into her arms, and amidst gasps of surprise, stepped onto the railing to reattach the wind chime, wrapping it tightly several times.

When Lan Yue arrived, Qun Qing had spotted someone in the crowd.

Shou Xi.

Shou Xi was a servant beside the Crown Prince, standing by the riverbank, coldly staring in her direction. It was unclear how long he had been watching, or if he had seen Lu Huating stand up solely to take down the wind chime for her.

As a palace maid beside the Crown Prince, having ties with the chief advisor of the Prince Yan faction was a significant taboo. Even returning the items wouldn’t necessarily clear her name.

Jumping down, Qun Qing took Lan Yue’s hand and walked away. Lan Yue couldn’t wait to share her joy with Qun Qing: 

“…The moment you wrote the invitation, the prince arrived. Are you some kind of oracle? What kind of immortal art can you do?”

Qun Qing’s mind was in chaos. Lan Yue’s words sounded broken and intermittent, but amidst the clattering sounds, Lu Huating’s voice penetrated her ears, clear and cool like the night dew.

He was helping the palace maids behind him write wishes, yet he echoed Lan Yue’s words: 

“What’s so unusual about seeing the future? Just look at her face; she was born under the sign of a green snake.**”

** green snake: It may also imply a sense of vulnerability, as relying on a “green snake” could symbolize a delicate or risky situation. 

Qun Qing shut her eyes, feeling once again that chilling sense of being cornered.

You’re the snake; you’re poisonous.

The night was cool, with a bright moon and scattered stars. The prayer officials had worked late into the night, finishing the last of the wish papers. The riverside, though bustling earlier, now felt empty, not a soul in sight.

Jian Su helped Lu Huating gather up the ink and leftover papers. 

“Master, have you achieved what you wanted? Will the princess help us?”

Sitting behind the desk, Lu Huating stared at the blood-stained cloth in his hands. 

“Almost.”

“The prince despises anything related to gods and Buddhas. If he finds out you convinced the military official to welcome the Buddha’s relic, it could cause chaos,” Jian Su warned.

“He despises it? Do you think Prince Yan’s residence is in any position to bargain now?” Lu Huating responded coldly.

“You’re right,” Jian Su sighed. 

“The prince has no power left, and we’re the ones asking him to stay. But after all, he is a prince. Can the Emperor really ignore their bond?”

Mist hung over the dark water in front of them. Lu Huating tugged at his collar. 

“I feel dizzy.”

“Of course, you do! That blade was poisoned! You haven’t rested, let alone healed properly. How can your body take this?” Jian Su whispered.

But Lu Huating wasn’t talking about physical dizziness. He felt weary, as if power itself was like a thick ink he had once waded through, only to find himself dragged back into it.

“The river wind is damp, and our robes are thin. The prince’s residence is like a house made of paper, ready to collapse under pressure,” Jian Su said softly. 

“Since you’ve already passed the message to Consort Lu, why not take a break and return home? You’ve written hundreds of wish papers, yet the hand injury will take long to heal.”

Lu Huating lightly played with the wind chime and murmured, 

“I want to see her one more time.”

Jian Su was startled. “Who?”

Lu Huating pulled out a copper coin from his sleeve, tossing it onto the table. It clattered, spinning and bouncing before finally coming to rest, like a cold, final answer.

Jian Su stared at the coin in silence.

The woman who decided life and death with a toss of a coin… the one who kills in dreams.

“It’s said that scholars from Longnan, when rushing to take exams, must travel many mountain roads without sleep. To stay awake, they place a small green snake in their bags,” Lu Huating explained. 

“The snake never sleeps, and neither does the person.”

Jian Su frowned. 

“So… did Master meet her?”

Qun Qing looked lively today. Under the light, her face glowed like snow, and her eyes sparkled with life. In just a few days, she had even been promoted.

Lu Huating smiled faintly, the breeze carrying away his exhaustion. 

“I feel much more awake now.”

“Then, are you still planning to kill her?” Jian Su cautiously picked up the coin and placed it in a box.

“She has information I need,” Lu Huating replied lightly. “But even with a knife at her throat, she wouldn’t say a word.”

“If it’s just secrets you want, there are easier ways to get them. Why resort to killing?” Jian Su whispered something into Lu Huating’s ear, causing him to fall silent.

“She seems innocent—it was just a dream, after all. What if the dream meant the opposite?”

“Are you softening so quickly?” Lu Huating asked, glancing at him with a complex expression. 

“In that dream, four out of eight of you died at her hands.”

Jian Su’s smile faded.

—

The clock chimed, and Qun Qing couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts jumped between the fortune paper written by Lu Huating, the night she spent at Qing Xuan Pavilion with Li Xuan, and Shou Xi’s cold stare.

The door creaked, and Lan Yue hurried in from her duty outside, pulling Qun Qing up and thrusting a candle into her hands. 

“Qun Qing, hurry and serve the prince the lamp! Maybe you can find a way to leave the palace.”

Qun Qing sat up, confused. 

“A way to leave the palace?”

“I told the prince I had a stomachache and swapped shifts with you. While you’re on duty, irritate him just a little,” Lan Yue gestured, “and he’ll kick you out.”

Lan Yue figured if Li Xuan had kicked Qun Qing out once before, he could do it again. 

With the prince resting just outside, Qun Qing hesitated but, seeing the opportunity, took the lamp anyway.

Inside the tent, Li Xuan lay wide awake, his mind occupied with thoughts of Zheng Zhiyi’s behavior that day.

Normally, she clung to him like sticky candy, always fawning over him. But today, her gaze held something different—fear and discomfort. During their meal, she hadn’t said a word, and they sat in silence afterward, each absorbed in their own world. When Li Xuan noticed Zheng Zhiyi reading, he leaned over to ask her about it, but she quickly stashed the book away and buried herself in the bedding.

Curious, Li Xuan pulled out the book after she slept. It was nothing more than a book on palace rules. 

Li Xuan had once disliked her, resenting the way fate had tied them together. His upbringing, however, kept him from showing that disdain openly. Over the years, despite their differences, even a cat or dog could evoke some warmth, and similarly, some of his sharp resentment had faded. Now that he held power and Zheng Zhiyi had become a favored consort, she could no longer bind him in the way she once did. 

He didn’t care much for her but had no desire to make things difficult either. Zheng Zhiyi was too young and naive; he thought of her more like a pet—someone to be cared for but kept at a distance. Their last confrontation had happened because she’d spoken too harshly.

Seeing her frightened now, Li Xuan thought about pulling the blanket over her, but Zheng Zhiyi quickly dodged, wrapping herself tightly in the quilt and retreating to the far corner of the bed. He recalled how she had once begged him to consummate their marriage, and a pang of discomfort hit him. The changes in Qing Xuan Pavilion felt unsettling.

Li Xuan watched her sleep, her snores rumbling loudly. She had been busy all day in the flower garden, planting her favorite pink fan roses with Lan Yue, completely exhausted.

As Li Xuan struggled to rest, a loud crash suddenly broke the silence outside.

Qun Qing stared at the shattered candle holder, her mind racing. She recalled Lan Yue’s words—perhaps this was the “opportunity” Lan Yue had spoken of to help her leave the palace. After a brief pause, she crouched to pick up the broken pieces, but just as she did, the bed curtains were lifted.

A pair of pale feet appeared on the carpet, and Li Xuan stood over her, his eyes cold. This was the third time he had seen Qun Qing.

Meng Guan Lou’s words echoed in his mind: 

“The Prince Yan faction’s dark guards… Wen Su… not even a single earring left behind.”

Li Xuan’s gaze lingered on Qun Qing’s hair, then dropped to her earlobe. She wasn’t wearing earrings, only a sharp, gleaming silver needle piercing through her ear.

“Serve the lamp,” Li Xuan commanded, his voice icy.

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