Destined Hearts of Mu and Yu (GL) - Chapter 8

Yet again, Qin Mu caught Wei Hanyu’s hand. Hanyu made to pull away, but felt something slip into her palm.

At that moment, the monks of Wanguo Temple arrived to receive her. With measured grace, Wei Hanyu exchanged courtesies. When she turned again, Qin Mu had vanished. She glanced around—only a sea of dark heads met her eyes, a surging crowd pressing forward, and her guards struggling to keep order.

“Princess, are you searching for someone?” asked Qi Yan, Qizhong’s junior, noticing her hesitation at the sedan.

Wei Hanyu drew back her gaze and, regaining composure, followed Qizhong into the temple. In her palm, the paper note was damp—whether from Qin Mu’s nervous sweat or her own tight grip, she could not say. When she finally found a moment to unfold it, the ink had blurred, yet Qin Mu’s fine hand could still be read:

“Sister Hanyu, I’ll be waiting in the west wing chamber.”

Hanyu’s lips curved into a cold smile. With a flick of her wrist, she cast the note aside, the motion brisk and unhesitating.

***

In the west wing chamber, Qin Mu had already donned a monk’s robe, hair bound beneath a cloth to conceal her identity. She waited anxiously, but Wei Hanyu did not appear. Time pressed on—the blessing ceremony neared its end. If she lingered, it would not be Hanyu who arrived, but soldiers.

Just then, Qin Lao’er’s signal sounded from outside the courtyard, urging her to leave at once. Reluctantly, Qin Mu turned toward the rear door.

It creaked open. Afternoon sunlight spilled through the cracks, gilding the chamber in gold. And within that light, Wei Hanyu stood—like a vision, radiant and untouchable.

Qin Mu’s heart leapt. She rushed forward, reaching for Hanyu’s hand, only to have it shaken off without mercy. Hanyu had not intended to come at all; but after much turmoil, she decided to hear what Qin Mu wished to say. Her voice was cool as frost.

“Speak. Why summon me here?” She kept her eyes distant, refusing Qin Mu’s gaze.

“Sister Hanyu… I missed you. I only wished to see you.”

Qin Mu’s brow furrowed as she spoke, her eyes fixed on Hanyu’s face. Her voice was soft, tremulous.

The words struck, and Hanyu’s heart wavered. Meeting Qin Mu’s eyes—seeing the bitten lip, the tears trembling there—she felt her own resolve soften. How she hated this about herself: her heart could never resist gentleness. With a quiet sigh, she drew a handkerchief from her robe, thrust it toward Qin Mu with feigned disdain, and said coldly,

“If you miss me, then say so. Why weep?”

Qin Mu lowered her eyes, clutching the handkerchief, gazing up with pitiful sweetness. In a childish tone, she murmured,

“Hug me.”

Goosebumps prickled along Wei Hanyu’s arms. She arched a brow, voice biting.

“Now that is too much.”

But Qin Mu’s expression shifted at once. Like turning a page, her grief vanished; she lifted the handkerchief to her face and breathed deeply with delight.

“It smells so sweet.”

A flush rose to Hanyu’s cheeks. She would never admit it aloud, but Qin Mu was indeed the stone that rippled her calm waters—always stirring waves where none should be.

Another signal call echoed outside. Qin Mu knew it was Qin Lao’er, urging her again to withdraw. Reluctantly, she tucked away the handkerchief, casting one last, longing glance at Hanyu.

“Sister Hanyu, last time you left without a word, but you left Zhou Hengkai behind. I’ve brought him to you—he’s tied beneath the old locust tree in the rear courtyard, drugged and unconscious. He won’t wake for some time.” She lingered on Hanyu’s face, unwilling to turn away.

Yet as Qin Mu prepared to leave without another word of that night, anger flared within Hanyu’s chest.

“You would just leave like this?” she demanded.

“Sister  Hanyu… is there more you wish of me?” Qin Mu turned back, her eyes wide with hope. Of course she longed to remain. But she knew the princess’s maids and guards were confined in the east wing; soon the patrol would return, and all would be discovered.

“Must I speak it first?” Hanyu’s eyes burned with reproach. Was Qin Mu truly so dull—or only feigning?

“What… what more could I say?” Qin Mu asked blankly.

“You never once thought of marrying me?” The words bit out between clenched teeth. She was the princess of Wei, yet here she was, saying aloud what should never be said. Too many rejections in her life had driven her to this humiliating moment.

“Sister Hanyu, I never dared think so far.” Qin Mu gave a rueful laugh, shrugging helplessly.

Her reply struck like a slap. Hanyu’s eyes turned icy, her voice sharper still.

“Of course. You are a woman—how could marriage be spoken of at all?”

Qin Mu froze, stunned. How could Hanyu know her secret? Did she believe Qin Mu had deceived her—that was why she was so cold?

“Sister Hanyu, I never meant to hide it from you. I—” Qin Mu began, desperate to explain.

But Qin Lao’er burst in through the back door, panicking in his face.

“Chief, the soldiers have reached the gates. If we don’t go now, it will be too late!”

The sight of him stoked Hanyu’s fury. She recalled their voices that night, the two of them in perfect accord, and felt her anger blaze. She had not cared to hear Qin Mu’s excuses—she only wished for her to face her deeds boldly. But now, with Lao’er’s intrusion, it seemed rehearsed.

“Qin Mu, you are a bandit. I am of imperial bl00d. From this day on, we are strangers. Do not appear before me again.”

She pushed open the door and swept out. At once, a host of guards surged in, surrounding her protectively.

“Protect the princess!” the captain shouted.

Hanyu glanced coldly at Qin Mu. Rage swelled hotter, though Qin Mu’s gaze was bewildered, almost innocent. With a flick of her sleeve, she snapped,

“That one—she is the rebel of Huangming Mountain. Seize her.”

Qin Mu stood motionless, dazed, her eyes never leaving Hanyu’s face.

The guards closed in. Qin Lao’er dragged her backward in retreat. Blades flashed as steel met steel—Lao’er parried desperately while the guards pressed forward. Qin Mu, however, did not raise a hand, her stance one of surrender.

The captain’s sword gleamed as he thrust straight for her.

From a distance, Wei Hanyu’s voice rang cold:

“Take her alive.”

At once, the captain drew back his blade, striking with his fists instead. Qin Mu took the blows silently, stepping back with each strike, never raising a hand in defense.

“Foolish beyond measure.”

Hanyu’s fingers tightened on her robe, knuckles white. The captain, mistaking her words as rebuke for him, redoubled his strength, raining fists and kicks upon Qin Mu.

“She doesn’t even fight back. Just bind her!” Hanyu’s voice, sharp with suppressed anger, finally cut through the chaos.