Destined Hearts of Mu and Yu (GL) - Chapter 3

When Qin Lao-er spoke with such seriousness, Wei Hanyu’s expression froze. Qin Lao-san’s earlier “sister-in-law” and the red double happiness characters plastered across the windows all pointed to the obvious: the one to be wed was none other than herself—and that immature youth. Wei Hanyu, who had stood unshaken before armies numbering in the millions, now found her composure faltering.

She cast a frosty glance at the two brothers, the chill in her eyes making Qin Lao-er fumble. He rubbed his nose awkwardly, coughed lightly, and said,
“Miss Wei, our Great Chief is a man of both letters and arms, and her appearance is of the finest quality among men.”

As he spoke, his confidence faltered. He lowered his gaze. She was the First Princess of Wei, second only to the throne. Qin Mu, though handsome and unmatched in martial skill, bore the title of a bandit chieftain—a stain that could never be cleansed. How could she, a princess of noble birth, be matched with such a name? And yet, Uncle Bo’s divinations had never once been wrong. Now that Wei Hanyu had come to them of her own accord, they could hardly let the chance slip. Seeing the affection in Qin Mu’s eyes only strengthened their resolve. Thus, the two brothers hatched their plan: once raw rice was cooked into a finished meal, not even the Emperor himself could deny the match.

Their little abacus clattered merrily in their minds—but the only two left in ignorance were Qin Mu and Wei Hanyu themselves.

That night, after settling Wei Hanyu into her quarters, Qin Mu busied herself in the dungeons, interrogating Zhou Hankai. She wanted every detail of his corruption and bribery laid bare, every official connected to him exposed. She worked deep into the night, and by the time she returned to the stronghold, the hour was late.

Just knowing that Wei Hanyu was still there filled Qin Mu with a joy she could not explain. Washing her face in haste, she hurried to see her Sister Hanyu. But the moment she stepped inside, a cold blade pressed against her throat. Meeting Wei Hanyu’s gaze, a chill sharper than steel raced down her spine.

“Sister Hanyu, what are you doing?” Qin Mu asked, unflustered. The cool edge against her neck made her shiver, yet her wide, innocent eyes gazed up at Wei Hanyu with such sincerity that the princess faltered.

Wei Hanyu’s grip faltered. Truth be told, before her stood not a hardened foe, but a boyish youth of seventeen or eighteen, his pale cheek still bearing the faint red imprint of her earlier slap. Her blade hand loosened.

“Release me, and I will not harm you.” she said quietly.

Her eyes flickered away from Qin Mu’s clear gaze. With a sharp clack, she drove the dagger into the table, turned her back, and sat heavily on a stool. Drawing in a long breath, she forced her heart to still. On the battlefield, she could slay without hesitation, but faced with this youth—so like her younger brother in years—her hand refused to strike.

“Sister Hanyu, of course I will see you safely down the mountain,” Qin Mu said gently. “But it is late tonight. Tomorrow, I will have Qin Lao-san prepare a carriage to send you away.”

Wei Hanyu turned, studying her carefully. The sincerity on Qin Mu’s face was not feigned, and for the first time, her heart softened.
“Is this true?”

“Truer than gold and silver.” Qin Mu nodded firmly. She had already reasoned it through: though Wei Hanyu was her destined noble, destiny could not be forced. Their identities were worlds apart, and besides—she was no man. Both women—how could she ruin Hanyu’s life?

In her words, the heavy stone pressing on Wei Hanyu’s heart eased. Seeing her relax, Qin Mu broke into a broad grin.

Wei Hanyu glanced at her. White teeth, bright eyes—there was something disarmingly endearing about that smile. Unconsciously, her lips curved into a faint smile of her own.

“You are truly beautiful when you smile, Sister Hanyu,” Qin Mu blurted.

Wei Hanyu flushed. At twenty-five, all around her had shown only reverence. No one had ever dared praise her so openly.

And though Qin Mu was still young, here they were, alone in a quiet chamber at night. Man and woman, together—it stirred a faint unease in her heart.

But Qin Mu thought nothing of it. In her life, she had never seen anyone so beautiful. If she could look upon her for a while longer, she would not leave.

Just then, a sharp knock sounded at the door. Wei Hanyu’s face tensed again. Qin Mu frowned and called out:
“Who is it?”

“Great Chief, it is I—Qin Lao-er.” His voice brimmed with delight. He had planned to summon Qin Mu, but finding her already there was even better. His heart leapt. There is hope yet.

“What business do you have at this hour?” Qin Mu asked, noticing Wei Hanyu’s brows furrow tightly at the name. Clearly, there was ill feeling between them. Qin Mu decided not to let them meet and questioned him through the door.

“Miss Wei has not eaten all day. I have prepared fine dishes and good wine to bring her.”

“Sister Hanyu, you haven’t eaten?” Qin Mu turned to her, eyes filled with concern.

Wei Hanyu said nothing. The truth was, Qin Lao-er and Qin Lao-san had unsettled her so badly earlier that she had no appetite to speak of.

“Then let me eat with you,” Qin Mu said warmly.

Qin Lao-er entered, pleased to see the two sitting together so amicably. He had the servants lay the food and wine on the table.

“Young Master Qin, do your words still stand?” Wei Hanyu asked, recalling Qin Mu’s earlier promise.

“What words?” Qin Mu blinked, having said so much she could not guess which she meant.

“Tomorrow—you will send me down the mountain.” Her tone cooled, thinking she played dumb.

“Of course they stand,” Qin Mu said with a laugh, straightening her back proudly. Yet when she caught the sly glint in Qin Lao-er’s eyes, suspicion stirred.

She rose, her expression firm.
“Pass word to Qin Lao-san. At dawn, he is to prepare a carriage and send Sister Hanyu down the mountain.”

Qin Lao-er frowned, as though reluctant. Qin Mu’s face darkened.
“I am the Great Chief of Huangming Mountain. What I say must be obeyed.”

“Yes, Great Chief.” Qin Lao-er sighed and bowed, though his gaze lingered on the wine jug.

“Miss Wei, today is our Great Chief’s eighteenth birthday,” he said smoothly. “I hope you will share a cup of wine with him—as a gesture of thanks for her courtesy.”

He poured her a cup himself, smiling.

Wei Hanyu raised it, glancing at Qin Mu. Though a bandit, she bore no ill intent. So like her younger brother in age—innocent and guileless.

“Young Master Qin, thank you for treating me with courtesy. When I return to the capital, I shall not forget the mercy you have shown me.”

“Sister Hanyu, you flatter me.” Qin Mu blushed, raising her own cup. Together they drank, the air between them growing warm and easy.

At some point, Qin Lao-er slipped away, leaving only the two of them in the chamber.

But why had he been so insistent that Wei Hanyu drink? Because the wine was not what it seemed. He had slipped into it a colorless, tasteless herb.

Earlier that day, he had already seen the urgency of Wei Hanyu’s desire to leave, while Qin Mu—sharp in all else—was blind to matters of the heart. All could see her feelings for Wei Hanyu; all but she herself. To let her leave now would mean losing what fate had decreed.

As second-in-command of Huangming Mountain, how could he let such a match be wasted? And so, humming a little tune, he waited for the morning—when raw rice would be cooked into a finished meal, and nothing, not even the Emperor, could undo it.