Destined Hearts of Mu and Yu (GL) - Chapter 50

Qin Mu had been under Suzha’s angry glare for some time, and when she heard those words, she froze completely. Her mind worked quickly, and her hand brushed against the bedding beneath her. Luxurious, refined, unmistakably the quilt of a princess. Realizing she had been lying on the princess’s bed, Qin Mu felt as though she were sitting on pins and needles, her whole body itching to escape.

When Princess Qin Ling turned away to give orders to her maids, Qin Mu seized the chance to rise. But the moment she moved, pain shot through her leg so sharply that her face twisted up, cold sweat running down her forehead. She collapsed heavily back onto the bed, clutching her injured foot and crying out.

Looking up, she saw Qin Ling watching her with an amused gaze. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Flustered, afraid of arousing suspicion, she forced a foolish smile and muttered, “I… I just wanted to relieve myself.”

Her blush deepened when Qin Ling leaned in closer, her strange fragrance drifting across the space between them. With a faint smile, she said, “Then let me help you.”

Goosebumps prickled across Qin Mu’s neck. She instinctively shuffled backward until she was pressed against the wall, nowhere left to retreat. She threw up her hands. “I… I don’t have to anymore.”

“No longer?” Qin Ling arched a brow, her smile deepening with implication.

“Truly… no longer,” Qin Mu stammered. Her face paled, her heart pounding. Are all desert women this bold? she thought. Though she herself was a woman, no one here seemed to notice or care, and they certainly didn’t bother with rules about propriety. The more she thought about it, the more terrified she felt—and angry at her leg for being so badly injured. Is Sister Hanyu worrying about me right now? The thought tugged painfully at her chest. She wanted to escape, but judging from Qin Ling’s eyes, she would not be allowed to leave so easily.

Just then, the smell of roasted lamb drifted into her nose. It was so rich and tempting that all her thoughts stopped. Looking up, she saw palace maids setting down a table full of dishes. Her mouth watered so much she nearly drooled onto the bed. She quickly swallowed, embarrassed, then hopped on one foot toward the table. With a plop, she sat cross-legged on a felt mat, grabbed a lamb leg, and tore into it without shame.

Only after filling her stomach did she notice the chill crawling up her back. She turned her head and found Qin Ling quietly watching her, like a predator observing its prey. Qin Mu shivered.

More maids entered, carrying buckets of water to the screened area in the corner. Soon came the sound of splashing. One maid bowed. “Princess, the bathwater is ready.”

Qin Ling nodded and dismissed them. She walked slowly to Qin Mu’s side. The mention of a bath stiffened Qin Mu’s whole body. If the princess is going to bathe, shouldn’t I step aside? she thought in panic. She quickly stood on one leg, bowed, and said, “Princess, thank you for your hospitality. If fate allows, we shall meet again. For now, I take my leave.” She hopped a step before Qin Ling caught her by the collar.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I am from Wei,” Qin Mu said, puffing out her chest. “Naturally, I must return to Wei.”

Qin Ling smiled. “And how exactly do you plan to return?”

Qin Mu faltered. Her gaze dropped to her injured leg, and her confidence crumbled. Even if she ignored the distance—hundreds of li of harsh desert—her foot alone would never hold out.

“This is the heart of the desert,” Qin Ling said lightly. “Do you plan to hop all the way back?”

Her words struck like a bucket of cold water. Qin Mu’s shoulders sagged. She wanted desperately for Qin Ling to send her home, but the woman’s sharp gaze told her that was impossible. Thoughts of Sister Hanyu’s gentle smile and warm embrace filled her mind, and her eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Go on. Take a bath,” Qin Ling said suddenly, pointing toward the screen.

Qin Mu blinked, startled, but when she looked again, Qin Ling was already holding out a set of desert garments. Her voice was oddly soft, almost sisterly. “In the desert, wearing Wei attire is far too conspicuous. Change into these.”

Qin Mu nodded quickly. “Oh… alright.” She snatched the clothes, turning her face away the moment Qin Ling’s eyes met hers. Don’t be swayed by a moment’s kindness, she told herself. She isn’t a good person.

Hopping to the water, she stripped off her outer robe—then froze. The golden armor Sister Hanyu had given her was gone. She checked again and again. It was truly missing. Panic surged. Not only was that armor a precious gift, but if anyone had removed it, they might have discovered her true identity. She broke into a cold sweat but forced herself to stay calm. It’s too late to panic. Just wash first.

She bathed quickly, scrubbing away dirt and bl00d, then donned the rough desert clothes. Feeling cleaner and lighter, she returned to the hall.

There sat Qin Ling on a felt mat, plucking a qin. The melody was long and lingering, carrying the vast loneliness of the endless sands. Qin Mu closed her eyes and almost felt the desert stretching around her, empty and desolate. When the music stopped, silence filled the chamber. Qin Mu gave an awkward laugh, the night suddenly feeling unbearably long.

Again the music rose, but now it was gentle, like a breeze over a stream. Qin Mu’s eyelids grew heavy. Before she realized it, she had fallen asleep at the low table.

When she awoke, sunlight streamed through the hall. She sat up in a panic and checked her clothes—intact. She exhaled in relief, scolding herself for being careless enough to fall asleep here. Looking around, she saw the chamber empty.

The moment her injured foot touched the ground, pain shot up and she cried out. At once, maids rushed in. “Young Master Wei, you’re awake? The princess left orders. Give you this.” One offered her a crutch. “She said the weather is fine today. You may walk outside.”

Qin Mu brightened immediately. She hadn’t been outside in days. Taking the crutch, she hobbled out.

Beyond the palace, the sky stretched a brilliant blue, but below was only endless yellow sand, not a speck of green. She quickly pulled up her scarf to cover her nose and mouth. Glancing at the sun, she tried to gauge Wei’s direction, but her heart sank. Qin Ling had been right—this was the desert’s center, hundreds of li from Wei.

She tilted her head and saw a hawk soaring freely in the sky. A pang of envy struck her. If only I had wings, I’d fly straight back to Sister Hanyu.

Her thoughts broke when horsemen rode past. They headed toward a corral ringed by cheering tribespeople. Curious, Qin Mu hobbled closer and saw within the enclosure a magnificent stallion, its muscles taut, its eyes wild with defiance. One rider after another tried to mount it, only to be thrown down.

Suzha appeared, shouting, “I’ll do it!” He spat into his hands, seized the reins, and hauled himself onto the horse. The beast thrashed, rearing so high Suzha nearly toppled. He grabbed its mane, yanking harshly, and kicked its sides. The horse shrieked in pain.

Qin Mu’s chest tightened. She loved horses—such a fine steed deserved better than cruelty. Without thinking, she picked up a stone, channeled her strength, and flung it. Smack—it struck Suzha’s hand. He yelped, loosening his grip. The horse jerked its head, and Suzha tumbled to the ground, rolling miserably through the dust.

Qin Mu clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. But then the horse, furious, charged toward Suzha. The crowd scrambled to pull it back, but its rage could not be calmed. Just as it was about to trample him, an arrow whistled through the air, piercing its neck. Bl00d spurted, and the beast stumbled, nearly collapsing.

“Run!” a cold voice commanded.

Suzha scrambled away, pale as ash. Qin Mu followed the arrow’s path—and saw Qin Ling, bow in hand, her eyes fixed on her. Qin Mu’s stomach dropped. She must have seen me throw the stone.

She tried to slip away, but Suzha grabbed her collar, his furious face filling her vision. “You treacherous Wei rat! You made me fall, didn’t you?”

Feigning innocence, Qin Mu said, “General Su, your riding is poor. Why blame me?”

“You dare mock me?” he roared, drawing a blade. “I’ll cut you down to avenge my brothers!”

Qin Mu squeezed her eyes shut, stretching out her neck in defiance. But then a calm voice cut through. “Enough.”

Opening her eyes, she saw Qin Ling step forward, pulling her behind her.

“Princess, why protect a Wei?” Suzha demanded, teeth clenched in fury.

“Kill him, and will your brothers return?” Qin Ling asked coldly. She stepped aside, leaving Qin Mu exposed. Suzha’s eyes burned red. He raised his sword—then flung it away with a growl, stomping off in frustration.

Qin Mu exhaled dramatically. “Princess, because of me, you’ve quarreled with your men. Hardly worth it. Better you lend me a good horse, and I’ll ride back to Wei.”

Her hopeful gaze met Qin Ling’s. But the princess only smiled faintly, stepped close, and brushed her fingers against Qin Mu’s earlobe—where the silver ring still hung cold. Qin Mu stiffened, every hair on her neck rising.

“You are mine…” Qin Ling murmured.

Qin Mu’s heart skipped. Before she could respond, a guard entered. “Princess, the horse’s wound is too deep. It won’t survive.”

Qin Ling’s expression did not change. “Then put it down. End its suffering.”

A chill spread through Qin Mu. Her eyes drifted to the longbow in Qin Ling’s hand, recognition dawning. That bow… She’s the desert army’s commander.