Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 46

That afternoon, Juchen found herself alone once more in the government office’s study. She spread out a sheet of white paper larger than the desk with a paperweight, dipped her brush in ink, and sat there the entire afternoon without lifting her head for even a moment.

As dusk approached, the setting sun gradually sank below the horizon. The fading light streamed through the gaps in the window lattice, casting a golden veil over the young woman at the desk.

Juchen finally raised her head, noticing the changing hues outside the window. Only then did she realize how tired she was. Frowning slightly, she set down her brush, tilted her neck, and stretched her shoulders.

A slender, elegant hand appeared beside her its palm broad, fingers wrapped around a white porcelain cup. The cool pallor of his skin nearly blended with the cup’s rim, resembling a half opened jade fan.

Song Mi placed the water before her eyes. Juchen, mid stretch, met his gaze, and her hands froze in midair. After an afternoon of focused tranquility, her heart began to pound wildly at his sudden appearance.

Fortunately, this man was a master of composure. Having worked alongside him for so long, Juchen had absorbed some of his unflappable demeanor if nothing else, she couldn’t afford to lose to him in poise.

Seeing her straighten up, Song Mi lightly tapped the side of the cup with a bent finger and said calmly, “Have some water.”

Juchen nodded politely, offering a dignified smile as she obediently took the cup.

Song Mi glanced at her briefly, noting the faint tremble of her lashes.

Suppressing a flicker of amusement in his eyes, he naturally leaned down to examine the drawing on the desk. “What are you working on?”

As he bent over, his figure loomed over her, his presence almost tangible.

His expression was utterly relaxed. When Juchen turned her head, her lips nearly brushed against his throat.

She held her breath for a moment, subtly shifting away as if by accident.

Clearing her throat, she replied composedly, “The Lu River embankments are repaired every year, yet the floods never cease. I believe flood control should adapt to local conditions focusing on diversion rather than obstruction, given the Lu River’s terrain. So, I sketched a rough plan for water management, hoping to offer some inspiration to the engineering office.

Though I’m not sure if it’ll be of any use.”

In her first year as Jiangyang County’s deputy magistrate, Juchen abolished the archaic tradition of “River God marriages.” For the next two years, she dedicated herself to improving the Lu River’s water systems, tirelessly surveying the riverbanks day and night. She frequently consulted with the engineering office by candlelight, eventually excavating ten channels to divert water for irrigation fundamentally resolving the region’s flood woes.

Song Mi studied the drawing for a long while. Juchen had deliberately kept it rudimentary, as if it were merely a novice’s practice exercise. Though he could not discern the seasoned expertise hidden within, the layout of the channels revealed the wisdom of a young woman who cherished the people as her own.

His gaze shifted back to her. “I thought…” He trailed off, then changed course. “Don’t you want to punish them?”

Juchen paused, understanding the unspoken question behind his hesitation.

Softly, she replied, “Those who deserved death are already gone.”

Song Mi still remembered that day when he suggested to the burly men binding the brides that the River God might have developed a preference for male companions. Juchen, listening nearby, burst into hearty laughter. He had assumed that, given her advocacy for gender equality and her passionate nature, she would relish the idea of retaliating in kind dragging more of those men who treated women’s lives as worthless to their graves.

“While it’s true they’re despicable for believing rumors and abetting evil, spreading rumors to punish them would make us no different from those demonic monks,” Juchen pondered for a moment before speaking earnestly. “Changing ‘brides’ to ‘grooms’ still means destroying families and taking lives. Forced marriages leave fathers and brothers grief stricken if it were the fathers and brothers taken instead, wouldn’t the brides be equally devastated? Where is the vengeance in that for them?” She sighed deeply. “Respecting life isn’t about men or women it’s about people.”

Lost in lament, Juchen unwittingly slipped into her old, compassionate tone.

As the words left her lips, she suddenly realized how much her lengthy discourse resembled her past self-preaching at him, just as their arguments often began with each trying to convince the other.

Wary, she glanced up to find Song Mi gazing intently at her, his striking eyes sharp yet shadowed with unreadable depth.

Just as she disliked his domineering ways, she knew he hated when she acted as if she held all moral high ground. Swallowing hard, she scrambled for a way to smooth things over until he reached out and gently patted her head.

“You’re right.”

His warm hand lingered atop her hair. Stunned, she stared blankly until the smile in his eyes reached his lips, confirming his sincerity rather than mere courtesy.

Perhaps because Li Juchen of their past life always addressed him with arrogance and pointed barbs, Song Mi had mistaken her stance assuming her seemingly balanced advocacy for equality masked a bias favoring women.

Hearing her heartfelt words today, he finally understood: she was truly fair minded. It was simply that so few women reached her station, and out of duty, she spoke for them.

And she didn’t hate men she might just have hated him. This conclusion left Song Mi uncertain whether to laugh or cry.

Unaware of the desolation seeping into his imperial eyes, Juchen, soothed by his gesture, brightened. Leaning forward, she rolled up the blueprint and handed it to him with a radiant smile. “Your Highness, could you deliver these plans for me? I fear they might not take them seriously if they come from me.”

After a pause, Song Mi said, “But if they prove effective, this could be a monumental achievement for public welfare worthy of court recognition. By letting me present them, aren’t you surrendering the credit?”

In their past life, Chancellor Li would never have yielded such glory to the Prince of Pengshan.

“Then consider it my tribute to you,” Juchen replied playfully. “Once we return to the capital, don’t forget to promote me, Your Highness.”

Song Mi gazed into her clear, shimmering eyes, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “But you’re a direct subordinate of the Shoukang Palace, your official position falls under the Imperial Household Department. I can’t promote you at most, I can put in a good word for you in front of Her Highness.”

Juchen naturally hoped for his favorable words. After all, a single remark from him before the Empress Dowager could outweigh ten from others. But if he were to praise a woman, the situation might become complicated. Given the Empress Dowager’s sharp intuition, Juchen couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t pick up on the nature of their relationship from Song Mi’s casual remarks.

If she were misunderstood as using her charms to gain favor, she wouldn’t be able to clear her name even if she jumped into the Yellow River.

Juchen furrowed her delicate brows and coughed lightly. “I’d prefer to earn Her Highness’s recognition through my own abilities. How about offering me some other benefit you can directly give?”

Song Mi raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

Juchen pressed her thumb to her lips, lowering her head in thought before a small smile appeared. “How about you paint a portrait for me? I think you’re exceptionally skilled at capturing people.”

“Whose portrait?”

There was an unexpected hint of guardedness in his question, as if wary of something. Juchen flushed slightly, pursed her lips, and replied softly, “Mine.”

The tension in Song Mi’s brow eased as he took in the faint blush on her cheeks. His eyes flickered before he agreed with a smile.

Just then, Yong’an, acting on someone’s request, lightly knocked on the door and called for Juchen, only to find her uncle inside as well.

Seeing their composed expressions, it seemed the events of the previous night had been put behind them. Yong’an smiled in relief and ushered Li Niang inside.

Li Niang had come specifically to express her gratitude for their life saving kindness that day. She bowed deeply, preparing to kneel, but Juchen supported her, refusing the gesture.

Wiping the moisture from her eyes, Li Niang gently explained that she’d learned from the constable’s wife how Juchen had particularly enjoyed the flower and fruit wine the night before, drinking several cups. Li Niang’s family produced some of the finest wine in the county, and she had brought several jars from her cellar. “It’s nothing valuable, but I hope you won’t disdain it.”

With that, she turned to fetch the wine. Worried she might struggle alone, Yong’an followed to find guards to assist her.

Juchen had just regained her composure when Li Niang’s words instantly dragged her back to the previous night flooding her mind with the memory of drunkenly pulling someone into a corner to demand a kiss.

She hastily waved a hand before her eyes, cutting off the unbearable recollection, then feigned calm as she asked Song Mi, “Are you confiscating this wine too?”

Song Mi glanced at her. “Do you want me to?”

Juchen lowered her gaze, unusually self-reflective. “You should.”

Yet, recalling her drunken defiance the night before, Song Mi felt it wouldn’t do to be too authoritarian. Meeting her halfway, he said, “Then we’ll store it at the Ciyou Villa. If you want to drink, come find me there.”

Unexpectedly, Juchen muttered under her breath, “How is that any different from walking into a trap?”

“What did you say?”

Juchen averted her gaze and stepped away from the table, calling toward the door, “Li Niang, is the wine heavy? Let me help you carry it.”

Outside the government office, Li Niang’s gratitude ran deep she had brought a full cartload of eighteen wine jars. Juchen helped her unload them from the oxcart one by one, until the guards carried them all inside.

Dusting off her hands, Juchen noticed the guards had already entered. Li Niang glanced at her, cheeks flushing, and pulled her aside.

The furtive gesture suggested she had something private to say. Juchen listened patiently as Li Niang gazed at her delicate face and whispered softly, “That night, by the river I saw.”

“What?”

“You and the prince, by the water.”

The rest of her words were cut off as Juchen clapped a hand over her mouth.

Juchen couldn’t see her own expression, but the burning heat rising in her cheeks told her she was blushing even harder than Li Niang.

Li Niang waited obediently until Juchen released her before murmuring in her ear, “I don’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to tell you. The reason I came in the afternoon is because this morning, I took these wines to the Temple of the Wine God and asked for a blessing of ‘everlasting happiness.'”

Everlasting happiness no wonder the jars were arranged in two rows of nine.

“You and the prince are a perfect match. Don’t worry, the Wine God has promised me he’ll watch over you.”

Juchen hadn’t forgotten how the people of Jiangyang had once praised her in her past life only to later revile her and smash her statues. But she also wouldn’t forget the sincerity and warmth in this young girl’s eyes. In this moment, her blessing was genuine.

“Sister, when you and the prince marry, remember to tell me. I’ll provide all the fruit wines for the celebration.”

Juchen knew she should explain Song Mi had never promised to marry her. From the start, he had made it clear he wouldn’t.

But after a moment’s hesitation, seeing no one around, she leaned closer to Li Niang and curved her lips into a smile.

Softly, she replied, “Alright.”

Late that night, in the quiet alleys of Jiangyang, where only the occasional bark of a dog broke the silence, every citizen shared the same dream.

They dreamed of a woman in the green robes of a county official, carrying bowls of green bean soup as she worked tirelessly by the canals. She had dug ten waterways in Jiangyang, each named after a bride once sacrificed to the River God Yuanyuan, Xiaocui, and Ling’er.

After the irrigation system was built, floods ceased, and harvests flourished year after year. Then she widened the mountain roads, allowing Jiangyang’s fine wines to flow outward, turning the town into a true city of wine. The people lived in peace and prosperity.

The next morning, they awoke and spoke of the dream in hushed wonder, stunned to find they had all seen the same vision. Some took it as a divine revelation.

They rushed to the government office, demanding the construction of the canals. Yet none could recall the exact layout of the waterways from the dream.

Just as they were at a loss, someone turned and spotted a large hydraulic diagram posted on the screen wall opposite the office.

The crowd exclaimed in unison, “That’s it!”

Upon closer inspection, the only signature on the map read: “A Good Person.”

They exchanged bewildered glances, falling into silence. A quiet uncertainty settled in their hearts was the peace and prosperity in their dream a gift from the gods, or the work of human hands?

At this moment, the female county magistrate from their dreams was already riding a tall steed, advancing into the desert steppe.