Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 36

In an instant, Juchen’s cheeks flushed crimson, the redness spreading down her neck. Her hands involuntarily curled into tight fists.

She looked up at him pleadingly.

When Song Mi hardened his heart, he could be particularly cruel. With an impassive expression, he began playing with her palm, rubbing it back and forth while saying the most embarrassing things. His gaze, devoid of any desire, remained fixed directly on her.

Under this relentless interrogation, Song Mi remained unshaken while Juchen kept glancing nervously at the door, fearing someone might knock and enter.

Eventually, unable to withstand the pressure of his stare, her lies became increasingly unconvincing until she had no choice but to confess the truth.

“I don’t want Yong’an to appear at the palace banquet four days from now.”

“Why?”

Juchen seized the chance to escape his embrace. “I can’t bear to part with her. I’m afraid she’ll be chosen to marry into Tibet.”

“What does that have to do with your face?”

“Like me, she’s allergic to poppies.”

Song Mi’s heart suddenly sank. Coldly, he asked, “So you planned to apply makeup on her but were afraid the purchased products might be unsafe, so you tested them on yourself first?”

His perception was indeed sharp he had seen right through her motives. Juchen nodded meekly. “Yes.”

Song Mi’s expression grew even colder as he said in a low voice, “If Yong’an marries into Tibet, she’ll be the primary queen consort. Her life might not be worse than it is now.”

Though Yong’an was a princess of Daliang, she was confined to a temple, reciting scriptures and praying daily, living a meager existence with little contact with the outside world. If she remained in Daliang, given her current circumstances, she would likely struggle to secure a favorable marriage, let alone find a man better than those in Tibet.

Song Mi remembered how the Tibetan king had cherished her deeply, and how the later Buzan had fallen hopelessly in love with her, even dismissing all his concubines to win her smile, vowing to remain devoted to her alone.

Yet Juchen planted her hands on his desk and argued urgently, “You might think it’s for the best, but she may not feel the same. If you truly wish someone well, it shouldn’t be based on what you think is good it has to be what she believes is good. Only then is it truly good.”

Leaning over him, she looked down, and for a moment, it was as if they had returned to their past lives, where they often clashed over political disagreements, neither willing to yield.

This time, however, Song Mi didn’t immediately counter her. He watched her frantic expression and fell silent.

Juchen realized she had overreacted. Clearing her throat, she paused before continuing gently, “Just like poppies for you, they’re a soothing remedy, but for me and Yong’an, they’re poison.”

Song Mi studied her earnest eyes and murmured, “Have you asked Yong’an what she wants?”

Juchen hesitated, then shook her head honestly.

But was there any need to ask?

If she had truly been willing to marry, why would she later write to the court, pleading to return home?

Seeing her silence, Song Mi turned and retrieved a draft list of candidates suitable for the marriage alliance. In front of Juchen, he crossed out Yong’an’s birth date.

“Now, no one can force her.” He handed the document to her, and as she took it in stunned silence, he lifted her veil, his thumb gently brushing her cheek.

Juchen’s cheeks flushed crimson as she stood there dumbfounded, clutching the notice. She instinctively knew that Song Mi’s removal of Yong’an’s name was not genuine approval of her opinion, but simply disapproval of her reckless behavior.

His momentary gesture gave her an intensely familiar feeling once before, in his palanquin, he had touched her like this. Just a brief contact, restrained and ascetic, making her think he was teasing her for showing such an unflattering side. When Song Mi lifted her face for closer inspection, his brows slightly furrowed, Juchen only belatedly recognized the tenderness in his eyes. It wasn’t mockery after all, but concern her own dullness had misunderstood.

Yuan Ruo spotted the Minister of Revenue approaching hurriedly down the corridor and gave a sharp cough outside the door.

By the time Wang Zhi entered, Juchen had already moved to the doorway, exchanging polite bows with him before brushing past.

Later, Song Mi specially obtained a box of the finest medicinal ointment from the Imperial Hospital. Pulling Juchen into a secluded corner, he offered it with warm yet teasing lips: “If your face doesn’t heal, you’d definitely avoid me, wouldn’t you?”

Caught in his insight, Juchen blushed fiercely while staring at him with burning eyes. “You wouldn’t want to look at a pockmarked face either.”

“Actually,” he mused, “it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Her heart skipped like a cat’s scratch, ripples spreading. Song Mi folded his hands, studying her intently as if genuinely considering, “Covering your face might be interesting.”

Juchen knew exactly what kind of “interesting” he meant. Thanking him hastily, she turned away resolved not to visit his courtyard until fully healed.

Two days later, when Yong’an came seeking Juchen’s help to plead with the Empress Dowager for inclusion in the marriage alliance candidates, Juchen finally understood Song Mi’s meaning nobody was forcing her.

“Are you truly willing to marry into Tibet?” Juchen asked, gripping her shoulders.

Yong’an shook her head.

“Then why?”

With a soft sigh and smile, Yong’an replied, “Because it’s my best option.”

As Tibet’s king would only accept a legitimate princess of Great Liang’s imperial line and with the current emperor daughterless Yong’an knew her fate since being summoned from the mountain temple.

“But you’re no longer on the list,” Juchen insisted. “If unwilling, none can compel you.”

Again Yong’an shook her head. “Only by going can I bring my mother back from Baoguang Temple.”

Her voice remained clear: “Only as a peacemaking princess can my mother’s status improve. Her health declines yearly in that freezing temple. I want her back in the palace warmth, fine medicines, proper care. I’m her only child, yet invisible. Only through this service can I protect her.”

Juchen’s delicate brows furrowed slightly as her heart sank, suddenly understanding why the Empress Dowager had been keeping Yong’an in the palace all these days. Without saying or doing anything, she simply let Yong’an experience the privileged life of the imperial court, effortlessly making her volunteer for the political marriage.

Juchen asked, “But have you considered that you might regret this decision in the future?”

Yong’an smiled and sighed, “The future, perhaps. But I’m not living in the future or the past I’m living in the present. Sister Juchen, I appreciate your kind advice, but right now, I can’t ignore my mother’s suffering. I must do something for her.”

Just as Juchen always wanted to do things for her, they each had their own motives and reasons.

“What if you’re unhappy after the marriage? What if the Tibetan king passes away? You know according to their marriage customs, you would have to marry his son next. Would you be willing?”

“I…” Yong’an thought for a moment, blushing slightly, “That seems a bit hard to accept. It’s not part of the etiquette I’ve learned.”

Juchen pressed urgently, “But once you’re in a foreign land, many things will be beyond your control.”

After some contemplation, Yong’an replied, “Still, I can’t let possible future hardships make me shrink from present challenges.”

Juchen stared at her intently, “What if it’s certain to happen?”

Her absolute tone seemed to foretell something, making Yong’an pause. In Juchen’s eyes, she saw genuine concern.

Yong’an couldn’t describe the feeling, only that she couldn’t ignore Juchen’s solemn expression now, forcing her to seriously consider the predicament mentioned.

After long thought and frowning, Yong’an finally smiled in acceptance, “Then we’ll face it when it happens. Sister Juchen, we can endure present hardships by dreaming of future happiness, but we can’t use future suffering to bury current suffering.” She paused insightfully, “If suffering is destined in my future, at least let me have peace of mind now. The Empress Dowager is fair in rewards and punishments I believe she’ll treat my mother well.”

Gazing at Yong’an’s dimples, Juchen suddenly recalled standing before Song Mi days earlier, declaring earnestly if you wish someone well, it must be what they consider good, not what you think is good.

Yong’an wasn’t an ignorant child or a senile elder she wasn’t deceived or acting foolishly, but had carefully considered this the best present choice.

This boomerang returned so swiftly that Juchen suddenly felt utterly powerless.

Noticing Juchen’s inexplicable sadness, Yong’an could not foresee the future but clearly felt her care. She stepped forward, grasping her hand, “Sister Juchen, if I’m really chosen, will you miss me?”

“Of course.”

“Then we can write letters, even if they take long to arrive.”

“I’ll wait however long.”

“Promise me then don’t find me bothersome later.”

“How could that be? I want to know if you are doing well. If… if you are not, you can tell me. By then, perhaps I’ll be stronger than I am now, and I’ll find a way to bring you home.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Whether it was Juchen’s earnest expression that instinctively inspired trust, or Yong’an deliberately lightening the mood to avoid sinking into gloom, she curved her lips into a bright smile, her dimples deepening as she sighed in relief. “Then Yong’an won’t be afraid anymore.”

Juchen managed a smile in return. Yong’an linked arms with her and said, “Actually, looking on the bright side, at least I’ll get to see the world beyond these walls.”

Yong’an laughed. “I’ve heard the grasslands have incredibly blue skies, clouds so low you could touch them, and breathtaking scenery. Sister Juchen, have you been there? Is it truly as beautiful as they say?”

Juchen paused slightly. “It is beautiful.”

Yong’an gave her hand a gentle shake and said sincerely, “Then I’d really like to see it for myself.”

When the five-day deadline passed, the palace banquet was held in the Hall of Supreme Harmony that night. The Empress Dowager sat regally upon the jade dais, presenting all eligible royal noblewomen one by one to the King of Tubo.

Several princesses performed their talents before offering wine poetry, song, dance, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

When it was Yong’an’s turn, her cheeks flushed crimson the moment the Empress Dowager called her name. She approached slowly, not daring to meet the imposing Tubo king’s gaze, and kept her head bowed as she said the previous sisters had displayed such extraordinary talents that she wouldn’t presume to show off before experts.

“But I know some magic tricks. Would Your Majesty like to see?”

Baoguang Temple housed the largest orphanage in the eastern capital. Yong’an often helped the abbot care for the children and had even learned a few tricks from a temple patron to entertain them. Today, she performed “The Vanishing Bird,” transforming a white dove into a rose that would flutter onto the Tubo king’s table.

However, she usually performed for children and had never showcased her skills before adults. Miscalculating the distance, the red rose accidentally landed in the hands of Buzan, who stood behind the Tubo king.

Startled by her mistake, Yong’an let out an involuntary “Oh!” which rippled through the hall in waves of light laughter.

Buzan held the flower, his dark eyes fixed on her in silence.

Standing beside the Empress Dowager, Juchen sighed inwardly these two truly had a karmic entanglement.

The Tubo king threw back his head and laughed heartily, thoroughly charmed by this timid, adorable girl. He immediately swept her up into his arms and bowed to the Empress Dowager to propose marriage.

Thus, Yong’an’s path to political marriage was sealed.

Juchen had demonstrated exceptional organizational and accounting skills during disaster relief in Shangdu. Now, standing directly within the Empress Dowager’s line of sight, she was entrusted with preparing Princess Heshuo’s dowry.

Imperial princesses typically received lavish dowries 100,000 taels of silver and 100,000 bolts of silk. However, last year’s poor harvest had left silk reserves insufficient. With new court garments needed for palace ladies and the Empress Dowager’s birthday approaching, demand outstripped supply.

Allocating the remaining silk to Yong’an’s dowry would leave ceremonial events embarrassingly bare.

Juchen had no intention of intercepting silk already allocated to the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau. The Ministry of Rites assumed she dared not slight palace ladies or displease the Empress Dowager, hence her reluctance to be overly generous with the dowry. The Court of State Ceremonial reminded them this matter had been discussed between both nations though not formally written into the treaty, it wouldn’t do for foreign powers to perceive the Liang Dynasty as dishonorable.

Shortchanging the quantities would ultimately bring disgrace, and the one to suffer would still be Princess Heshou.

Just when they all thought Juchen didn’t care about Yong’an’s predicament, she fell silent for a moment before suggesting that the Sichuan military governor, returning to the capital for his annual report, had previously estimated that Rongcheng could produce double the usual amount of silk this year enough to be allocated.

The envoy responsible for escorting the princess to her marriage alliance shook his head. “We cannot wait for the new batch of silk to arrive in the Eastern Capital before setting out northward. That would make us miss the auspicious date.”

Juchen replied, “We can depart first, detour through Rongcheng to collect the new silk, and then proceed north. It would be perfectly timed.”

This had been her original motive when she first allocated the silk to the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau.

She had simply recalled the words Yong’an once shared with her years ago, when they had reunited on the grasslands. Sitting side by side, gazing toward the direction of Daliang, Yong’an had said,
“I’ve never left the Eastern Capital since childhood. I’ve always wanted to visit Rongcheng, my mother’s hometown.”

To requisition the silk locally, this plan required officials from the Ministry of Revenue to accompany them, ensuring the quantities were promptly tallied and supervised.

Song Mi, who oversaw the ministry, spoke up on behalf of his subordinates.

“They’re all too busy. None can be spared.”

The Ministry of Revenue fell into uneasy silence, assuming their superior was disregarding past camaraderie with the Phoenix Pavilion and denying Li Dianji due respect.

But Song Mi immediately added, “I happen to have been invited by the Tibetan king to visit Tubo. I can take on this task along the way.”

The Tibetan king had returned early to prepare for the wedding ceremonies, and Song Mi, having accepted his invitation, was originally supposed to depart with the Tibetan envoy party.

Yet his current plan suggested he intended to bolster Princess Yong’an’s bridal procession instead.

Beyond this, noblewomen to accompany the bride were indispensable. The moment word spread of Song Mi’s participation, noble ladies from prominent families in the Eastern Capital rushed to volunteer so many they were beyond counting.

The Empress Dowager, well aware their interest lay solely with Song Mi, pondered for a long while before glancing at Juchen, seated quietly below.

Head bowed, she was wholly absorbed in drafting a memorial, brush in hand, undisturbed by the commotion.

Recalling Juchen’s past collaborations with Song Mi their c nduct always proper and strictly professional the Empress Dowager noted how naturally Juchen treated him. Unlike other women, she never blushed or flustered in his presence. She addressed issues directly, reported difficulties without hesitation, treating him not as someone to curry favor with but as a long time colleague.

Suddenly, the Empress Dowager found her exceedingly suitable perfect, in fact to accompany her son on this lengthy journey.

She immediately appointed Juchen as the official female representative to escort Yong’an to her wedding.

Years later, when the Empress Dowager reflected on this decision, she truly understood the saying: No matter how vigilant you are, the thief is always within the house!