Destined Hearts of Mu and Yu (GL) - Chapter 4

At the wine table, Wei Hanyu and Qin Mu conversed with unfeigned delight.

Wei Hanyu was a woman who cherished talent. As they spoke, she quickly discerned in Qin Mu a mind set apart from the ordinary—keen, incisive, with a breadth of vision rare among men. If only such a youth could one day serve the court, she thought. When war with the Xiongnu flares again, the army would never lack for a formidable general. Yet in Qin Mu’s words, she faintly sensed a resistance to leaving Huangming Mountain. It seemed a waste, but this unplanned detour from Hangzhou, which had brought her here and introduced her to Qin Mu, was already a fortune in disguise.

As their talk flowed, Wei Hanyu raised her cup.

“Young Master Qin, I have one request.”

“Sister Hanyu, you mustn’t be so polite. Speak your mind,” Qin Mu replied at once, lifting her own cup in return. Seeing the faint furrow in Wei Hanyu’s brow, she straightened her back and thumped her chest with boyish bravado.

“Whatever matter Sister wishes, so long as it lies within my reach, I will never utter the word no.”

Wei Hanyu lifted her gaze, teeth grazing her lip in hesitation. At length, she spoke.

“Tomorrow, when I descend the mountain, may I take Zhou Hankai with me?”

Qin Mu’s hand stilled, the raised cup slowly lowered. For any other matter, she would have gladly gone through fire and water for Wei Hanyu. But Zhou Hankai… Her sigh was heavy.

“Since his appointment as Prefect of Hangzhou, Zhou Hankai has committed countless crimes. If I were to hand him over, would it not be releasing a tiger back into the wild? How could I face the people who have trusted us all these years?”

Wei Hanyu’s lips curved faintly. If Qin Mu had agreed too lightly, she would have dismissed her as weak of will. Yet this firm refusal stirred a deeper admiration within her.

Qin Mu lifted her eyes once more. The wine had painted Wei Hanyu’s cheeks with a delicate flush, her gaze hazy, her smile soft as mist. For Qin Mu, it was enough to unsettle her soul, her heart pounding violently, shattering the principles she had sworn to uphold.

“I—If you truly wish to take him, then… take him.”

Wei Hanyu’s eyes lingered on the shy tilt of her head, the way she dared not meet her gaze. He was unexpectedly endearing. She let out a soft laugh.

“I do not seek to shield Zhou Hankai. He is enmeshed in a larger case. To end him now would be far too merciful.”

“Do you truly mean it?” Qin Mu’s eyes lit with admiration, her very gaze sparkling like stars. Indeed, the famed Princess Wei could never be one to aid the wicked. Qin Mu’s esteem for her deepened all the more.

“Rest easy. Once the case is broken, Zhou Hankai will suffer the punishment he deserves.” Wei Hanyu’s voice was calm, her nod firm.

“You are indeed as the world says—decisive and wise.”

Overcome with fervor, Qin Mu reached for her hand. Their fingers brushed—a transgression in itself. But having grown up among rough brigands, Qin Mu felt no impropriety. Instead, she marveled at the softness beneath her touch, sighing.

“Your hands are truly delicate and soft, unlike ours, rough from the wilds.”

Wei Hanyu’s heart gave a startled thrum. She quickly drew her hand back. And yet, whether from wine or from some unnamed warmth, the words—though bold, though edged with flirtation—set her bl00d stirring, heat rising in her cheeks.

Qin Mu’s gaze clung to her. In the wavering glow of candlelight, her beauty was like a painting alive. Thirst burned in Qin Mu’s throat. Her eyes drifted helplessly to the curve of Wei Hanyu’s lips, crimson and tempting.

“Sister Hanyu,” she whispered, leaning closer, “this morning, when I stood near you, I caught your fragrance… it was just like my mother’s. So very comforting.”

Wei Hanyu’s laugh broke the tension, her embarrassment scattered. Mischief glimmered in her eyes, a sudden urge to tease. She let Qin Mu draw nearer, brushing back her hair as she said lazily:

“Are you saying, then, that I am as old as your mother?”

“No, not at all!” Qin Mu flushed crimson, waving her hands in panic. But Wei Hanyu’s alluring smile left her tongue tied, her throat dry. Her thirst was not for water, but for the lips before her.

Drawn by instinct, Qin Mu leaned closer, her thoughts in chaos, until at last her trembling lips brushed against Wei Hanyu’s.

Her heart thundered like a drum of war. She had tasted tender fish, smooth tofu—but never lips so soft, so pliant, carrying the faint fragrance that was uniquely Wei Hanyu. A hum escaped her throat. She pressed closer, unwilling to let go.

Wei Hanyu could have pushed her away. She did not.

Instead, she discovered for the first time how intoxicating a kiss could be. She let herlinger, let her hold her, her arms circling her slender waist.

The table became an obstacle. Together, stumbling, breathless, they moved toward the bedchamber. A candle was brushed; red wax dripped like tears across the floor. The light dimmed, shadows thickened, until all that remained was heat, breath, and the sound of two hearts pressed close.

***

When Qin Mu next woke, the sun was already high.

Her head throbbed as she sat up. She was in her own chamber, the silence heavy. Pressing her temples, she tried to recall the night before. But each effort brought a sharp ache, as though needles pierced her mind.

“You’re finally awake.”

A cool, clear voice drifted from the doorway. A woman in violet robes entered, her beauty striking, though marred by a vivid red birthmark across her cheek. This was Qiuchan, the stronghold’s famed healer, disciple of the Ghost Valley master himself, brought here by Uncle Bo at no small price.

Though she could not raise the dead, there was little illness beyond her skill.

Qin Mu leaned against the bedframe, half-lidded eyes still chasing memory. Qiuchan stepped forward, taking her wrist.

“Qiuchan, what are you doing?”

“Taking your pulse,” she replied with a languid glance. When she had assured herself there was no grave harm, she relaxed. But seeing Qin Mu press her temples in pain, her voice softened.

“Qin Mu, if you cannot recall what happened last night, do not force it. You’ll only wound yourself.”

Qin Mu frowned. She remembered drinking with Wei Hanyu, remembered her laughter… beauty in the glow of candlelight. And then—nothing. The harder she grasped for it, the sharper the pain.

Qiuchan, seeing her reddened eyes, placed a hand over hers.

“Breathe. Slowly. In… and out.”

Qin Mu obeyed, and the turmoil eased. Yet as her thoughts steadied, Wei Hanyu’s name surged in her heart. If I cannot recall… perhaps she can tell me.

Yet the moment she stood, a chill swept through her body. Looking down, she saw with horror that she was bare. Her cheeks flamed scarlet, and she dove back beneath the covers, casting a mortified glance at Qiuchan—who only watched with a teasing glint in her eyes.

The healer chuckled. “Little imp. What part of you have I not seen before? And now you blush at me?”

“That was when I was younger. Now it’s different,” Qin Mu mumbled, her face aflame.

Indeed, Qiuchan had known her secret from the beginning—that she was not a boy at all, but a girl in disguise. From her first fever, to her first awkward steps into womanhood, Qiuchan had been like an elder sister.

Now, she tossed clothes onto the bed. “Dress yourself. If anyone sees you like this, no one can shield you.”

Qin Mu dressed in haste. Once her hair was bound, the image of a refined young man returned. She made for the door, only for Qiuchan to roll her eyes.

“Don’t rush. The one you’re so eager to see—she left at dawn.”