Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 32

The moment Xuyang pushed open the door, the room fell into complete silence.

Juchen and Song Mi were each seated at separate tables in their own corners, engrossed in their respective tasks, barely exchanging a word not even a single glance.

Juchen kept his head lowered over the documents, his eyes closing briefly in silent embarrassment at an angle no one could see.

“Uncle,” Xuyang greeted respectfully.

Song Mi looked up expressionlessly and responded with a calm acknowledgment.

“May I take A-Chen out for a meal?” Xuyang inquired.

“Go ahead.”

A faint smile touched Xuyang’s lips. Upon hearing this, Juchen stood up properly, organizing the case files on the desk before politely asking her to wait a moment as he hurried into the inner archives.

Left idly standing outside, Xuyang wandered over to Song Mi out of boredom and glanced at the documents on his desk.

She suddenly burst into laughter. “Uncle, were you mentally fishing again?”

Song Mi raised a puzzled brow at her.

Xuyang turned the name card on his desk around. “The characters on this card are upside down.”

Earlier, Juchen had reacted so abruptly that he knocked over the draft papers on Song Mi’s desk.

With a faintly amused expression, Song Mi beckoned Xuyang closer, picked up a brush, and drew an elephant’s trunk on a blank scrap of paper.

“Guess what animal this is,” he asked.

Xuyang frowned slightly. “An elephant. They have them in the royal menagerie.”

Song Mi sighed. “So you do recognize it.”

The way he sighed, paired with the strange look on his face, gave Xuyang an inexplicable but strong sense that she was being teased.

That feeling lingered well into the night, gnawing at her until she couldn’t help but corner Lin Zongbai at the chessboard and demand to know what his good friend had really meant.

After hearing the whole story, Lin Zongbai rubbed the bridge of his nose and chuckled. “He was calling you tactless.”

Xuyang was even more confused. Even if she had caught her uncle slacking off during duty, he didn’t seem like the petty type.

Lin Zongbai didn’t elaborate further, simply gathering the chess pieces while glancing at the night outside the window. “Princess, it’s late.”

Xuyang arched a brow dismissively. “One more game.”

As she reached for the cloud patterned stones in the basket, Lin Zongbai lightly blocked her hand with his folding fan, frowning. “Do you really intend to stay here any longer?”

“Why not? I paid for it.”

“You paid to drink here.”

“Then how much would it cost for you to play chess with me?”

“I’m the proprietor here, not a performer for hire.”

Xuyang pouted. “I wasn’t asking for anything improper.”

Lin Zongbai exhaled a half laugh, half-serious remark. “I’m afraid Yuan Zheng might come after me with a blade.”

Xuyang scoffed. “He wouldn’t. His mother wrote to him about taking a concubine he’s busy with that.”

The mention of a concubine struck an unpleasant chord. Lin Zongbai’s fingers tightened slightly around the chess basket as he lifted his gaze, silently studying her. Yet no matter how long he looked, he couldn’t discern how she truly felt about the matter.

Despite Xuyang’s usual cheerful and carefree demeanor, royal children were born with the ability to conceal their emotions. If she didn’t want someone to know her thoughts, no amount of scrutiny would reveal them.

Seeing him fall silent, Xuyang didn’t press further. Instead, she turned and headed to the main hall, sitting behind a beaded curtain to enjoy the stage performances, drinking and indulging in the revelry.

Lin Zongbai neither agreed to accompany her nor left, instead remaining in a corner on the second floor. As the crowd gradually dispersed, Xuyang slumped over the table, her slight drunkenness making her drowsy until her eyes involuntarily closed.

Faintly, she sensed a familiar figure approaching. Then, a delicate fleece blanket was draped over her slender shoulders.

Lin Zongbai gently tucked the blanket around her. By the time he finished, Xuyang had half opened her eyes, gazing at him blankly for a moment before calling out without hesitation, “Brother Zongbai.”

Lin Zongbai’s pupils constricted slightly, his fingertips gripping the blanket turning pale.

Given Xuyang’s status, she shouldn’t have casually addressed others as “brother.” But as a child, she had always insisted she would marry Senior Brother Lin when she grew up, so she saw no harm in secretly calling him that perhaps he would even dote on her more because of it.

Thus, whenever she wanted something, her favorite tactic was chasing after him while calling “Brother Zongbai.” Sometimes, though, she would address him this way for no particular reason, simply to get his attention.

Meeting her eyes that shimmered with fragmented light, Lin Zongbai felt his chest grow heavy. He repeatedly dug his fingertips into his palms, maintaining his composure for a long moment before forcing a stiff smile.

“Your Highness, it’s time to go home.”

The Tibetan envoy arrived safely in the Eastern Capital on the last auspicious day of the first lunar month.

On the third day, a banquet was held at the Northern Imperial Gardens. Early in the morning, Juchen arrived at the garden gates on behalf of the Empress Dowager to assist the female members of the envoy in entering and seating.

After welcoming the main guests, she waited until Princess Yong’an arrived before leaving, solely to guide her inside.

As always, Yong’an greeted everyone with a smile, but for Juchen someone more familiar to her her smile was especially genuine, radiating heartfelt joy at their reunion.

The Empress Dowager had sent someone to fetch her from the mountain temple and ordered the Imperial Wardrobe Department to dress her meticulously.

Clearly unaccustomed to such heavy brocade garments, Yong’an moved somewhat clumsily as she lifted the carriage curtain.

Juchen considerately stepped forward to help her alight, then bent down to straighten the train of her dress.

Having spent most of her time in the temple, Yong’an rarely attended such grand occasions and couldn’t help feeling somewhat nervous. As they walked slowly along the waterside, two white lions in the rare animal garden by the shore noticed their passing and suddenly approached the cage bars, baring terrifying fangs.

Yong’an clutched her chest, momentarily shrinking back in fear.

Juchen took her hand reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid they can’t get out. There are trainers in this garden too.”

Yong’an took a deep breath and nodded. Worried she might remain fearful, Juchen deliberately walked ahead of her. After a few steps, she glanced back to find Yong’an curiously staring at the two white lions.

Juchen couldn’t help an inward chuckle. “Your Highness, let’s take our seats first. Later, I’ll bring you back to see them properly. There are many beautiful spots in these gardens I can show you around all of them.”

Yong’an paused, then said softly, “Sister Juchen, please don’t call me ‘Your Highness,’ or refer to yourself as ‘this subject,’ alright?”

Juchen nodded in acknowledgment. A quiet, gentle “Yong’an” successfully earned her two faint dimples from the young girl.

The banquet was held in a pavilion beside the archery range. Upon reaching the third floor, Yong’an and Juchen went behind the beaded curtain to pay respects to the Empress Dowager. Following the elder’s instructions, they knelt before her.

The third floor was reserved for distinguished guests of the diplomatic mission. Seated at the two tables nearest the Empress Dowager were the Tibetan King’s mother and sister. Juchen served as interpreter for Her Majesty, demonstrating quick reflexes and delivering translations that were both accessible and engaging, enabling nearly seamless communication throughout.

Yong’an listened nearby, casting admiring glances at Juchen, unaware that the very first book on the Tibetan language in Juchen’s life had been authored by none other than Yong’an herself after she departed for the grasslands as a political bride.

As the ladies conversed merrily at their tables, ripples of commotion suddenly spread through the surroundings. The Empress Dowager turned toward the sound to see numerous noble daughters unconsciously drawing closer to the beaded curtains.

In the archery field ahead, a strikingly handsome man appeared dressed in a dark, narrow cut robe with blue trim, a slender silver threaded belt at his waist, and black boots. He strode unhurriedly toward the target.

Juchen did not even need to look forward. The collective flutter of hearts around her told her exactly who had arrived.

Song Mi was not one of the court selected martial officials meant to participate in the archery display, so he had no obligation to take the field. Yet here he was, positioning himself before the target, bow drawn, clearly intending to compete with the martial officials present.

Originally, he had not changed into archery attire, having been content to sit idly in his wide sleeved robes at the pavilion. But after hearing the imperial edict read aloud where the Emperor bestowed ceremonial wine for ministers of both nations to drink together he watched as the Tibetan envoys and Liang’s selected archers entered the field. A Tibetan envoy under their king took aim with a crossbow, staring at the target for a long moment before releasing an arrow that struck dead center. Yuan Zheng followed almost without pause, drawing and firing an arrow that pierced straight through the bullseye.

The Liang officials observing erupted in cheers. Song Mi’s brows furrowed slightly as he fixed his gaze on Yuan Zheng’s tall, slender figure before the target, and suddenly, a competitive spirit stirred within him.

Without hesitation, he too released an arrow like a meteor chasing the moon piercing clean through the center.

Instantly, the surroundings erupted with music and thunderous war drums.

The Empress Dowager caught sight of her familiar son’s figure and couldn’t resist having the beaded curtains parted. A group of dashing young men stood laughing and chatting on the field. The pavilion being high, she couldn’t hear their words, so she patted Juchen’s shoulder, instructing her to lean over the railing to listen and report back.

Juchen had already been frustrated by her low seat, craning her neck to catch mere glimpses of the events below. At the Empress Dowager’s command, she quickly rose and obligingly moved to the railing.

As if sensing something, Song Mi glanced back and spotted a delicate figure appearing above the pavilion. Turning forward again, he drew his bow and fired another arrow this one aimed directly at Yuan Zheng’s target, knocking the previously embedded arrow clean out.

His shot came swift as lightning, wild and unrestrained. Juchen’s breath caught. She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but the act seemed charged with an inexplicable, simmering provocation.

Yet in her recollection, Yuan Zheng hadn’t ever offended him, had he?

A brief silence fell over the field. Song Mi paused as if just coming to his senses, his handsome face showing belated confusion as he looked at Yuan Zheng. “Oh, was that yours?”

Yuan Zheng’s expression stiffened momentarily, at a loss for how to respond.

It was the Tibetan King who first grasped the situation, saying amiably, “Could the Prince have mistaken it for one of ours?”

They were indeed engaged in a competition of archery skills between the two nations. In the hearts of the strength-admiring grassland people, such contests naturally brooked no concessions.

Song Mi rubbed the tip of his nose and waved his hand with a laugh. “Like the dragon king’s temple being flooded by his own waters I’ve made a fool of myself before you all.”

The Tibetan king showed a faint smile and shook his head. The envoy stepped forward, clapping in admiration, while Yuan Zheng suddenly understood and joined in with a few cheerful words of his own.

As a pillar of the Great Liang court, Pengshan Wang naturally had to display his prowess appropriately before foreign envoys. But actually shooting the arrows of the Tibetan envoy would inevitably create an atmosphere of tension.

Shooting Yuan Zheng’s arrows, however, was just perfect.

Cheers erupted once more from the surroundings.

With a slight curve to his lips, Song Mi turned his head again unconsciously, only to find the familiar silhouette by the railing had vanished.

He paused momentarily, scanning carefully until he finally spotted her figure on the second-floor staircase.

Upstairs, a group of noblewomen from Great Liang were leisurely placing bets on which military official would emerge victorious that day.

Unexpectedly, with Song Mi now participating and the upcoming contests of hundred-pace arrow shots and blindfolded willow shooting, the ladies hastily opened another round. Empress Feng Zhenzhen secretly removed a dazzling phoenix hairpin from her hair and sent a maid to quietly place a bet on Song Mi.

Xuyang, witnessing this from nearby, gave a cold laugh before heading upstairs to fetch the Empress Dowager.

Her beloved youngest daughter told her about the betting downstairs and how she hadn’t brought anything valuable, hoping for her mother’s support. Amused by her daughter’s lively account, the Empress Dowager grew curious about who the people of Great Liang considered their finest archer.

Accompanied by Juchen and others, the Empress Dowager descended to find not only Song Mi and Yuan Zheng as the crowd’s top favorites but also Feng’s bet the birthday gift hairpin from the emperor.

The Empress Dowager saw through Feng Zhenzhen’s lingering feelings for Song Mi as clearly as if looking in a mirror, yet she had been unable to oppose the current emperor’s insistence on making Feng his wife.

With a dark expression, the Empress Dowager retrieved the hairpin herself.

“The empress’s phoenix pin symbolizes her position. How can it be wagered so carelessly?”

A thin layer of sweat formed on Feng Zhenzhen’s palms as she prepared to shift blame onto the maid, claiming the servant had stolen the hairpin to place the bet.

The Empress Dowager gave her no chance to explain. “Do you no longer want this position?”

Feng immediately dropped from her bow to her knees.

Juchen glanced back at Xuyang, noticing the slight upward curve of her lips, and realized she had manipulated others to eliminate her rival.

Though not entirely honorable, Xuyang was indeed clever.

Unfortunately, upon hearing of the Empress Dowager reprimanding the empress, the emperor rushed up from the golden hall below. Despite knowing Feng was at fault, he spared no effort in defending her, even fabricating a claim that he had permitted her to place the bet.

The Empress Dowager’s expression darkened, but ultimately, for the sake of the emperor’s dignity and the day’s grand banquet, she let the matter drop.

The foreign envoys’ wives upstairs, hearing the commotion, began showing interest in coming down to investigate. Not wishing to embarrass the nation before outsiders, the Empress Dowager returned to the third floor with a smile, guiding them all back to their seats.

The emperor escorted Feng back to her place. Before descending, he pressed his thin lips together and flicked Xuyang’s forehead where she hid behind a pillar.

Xuyang let out a small animal like whimper, frustrated by her brother’s infatuation clouded judgment.

Seeing Juchen still present, Lu Yun seized the opportunity to ask if she would like to place a bet as well.

Xuyang overheard their conversation and deliberately raised her voice to provoke Madam Feng sitting behind the beaded curtain. She announced she would place a bet on her uncle and even persuaded other ladies to support him too, boldly promising to mention every girl who bet on Song Mi to him personally.

Then she pulled Juchen aside and urged her to bet on Yuan Zheng.

“This way we’ve got both sides covered at least we won’t lose out.”

After a moment’s silence, Juchen nodded in agreement.

Ultimately, in the blindfolded willow shooting contest, Song Mi narrowly prevailed by drawing his bow left handed.

The Dowager Empress was delighted and summoned him through her attendant Pei, declaring she would reward him.

By then, Xuyang had already returned from downstairs to the Dowager’s side, basking in her favor. She spared no effort in singing her uncle’s praises and casually mentioned their betting game how she had instantly staked all her assets on his victory and faithfully listed every lady who had backed him.

“Weren’t you throwing around my assets?” The Dowager chuckled, tapping Xuyang’s nose playfully.

Giggling, Xuyang buried her face in the Dowager’s lap. The corners of Song Mi’s lips lifted slightly as he subtly inquired about the remaining bets including Juchen’s.

Xuyang recounted them all, concluding with: “Achen bet on Yuan Zheng.”

Song Mi’s faint smile gradually straightened. His gaze swept the banquet hall, finding no trace of her, while downstairs on the archery field, Yuan Zheng was conspicuously absent too.

What, had she rushed to comfort him the moment she saw his defeat?