Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 59

Song Mi felt as if his heart had been pinched. A flash of white light seemed to split through his mind. His eyes widened slightly, and the curve of his lips gradually straightened under her embrace. The hand resting on her waist loosened slightly due to a spasm.

Juchen, afraid of falling, lightly scratched the back of his neck with her fingertips before tightening her hold. Song Mi’s expression remained unchanged, but beneath his ribs, his heart trembled as if her fingers had grazed it then slowly clenched.

After a long silence, Song Mi finally spoke, only to realize his voice had gone hoarse. “What did you just say?”

Juchen pressed against his chest and asked, “Was it really that bad to drink?”

Her question sent a tremor through his heart. “You when did you remember?”

After a long wait with no response, he realized Juchen had fallen asleep in his arms.

Her warm breath brushed against his neck, heavy with the scent of alcohol and the faint fragrance of white orchid, seeping insistently into his senses.

Juchen rarely got drunk, yet Song Mi seemed to witness it every time. While her drunken behavior wasn’t exactly refined, she had one rare quality honesty.

When drunk, she never seemed to lie. Even something as audacious as wanting to punch him had been voiced without hesitation.

Holding her steadily in his arms, Song Mi’s mind was in turmoil. Amidst the chaos, her every word from earlier echoed relentlessly in his ears.

She had not mistaken him. She had been talking about him about how he refused to let her touch his face, how he had tampered with the wine, how a drop of his bl00d had once stained her dress, making her think he must have been in pain.

He really had written her a letter.

And at the end of it, he had earnestly asked if she would marry him.

The letter he never sent she had received it ten years after he left.

Song Mi stood frozen for a long moment, his heartbeat gradually accelerating as realization dawned.

He laid her down on the bed and glanced up. The bronze mirror reflected the handsome face of a man, his expression as composed as ever yet the tips of his ears were tinged with a faint blush, spreading upward until half of each ear burned red.

So, she had known all along. That he loved her.

Song Mi gazed at her sleeping face for a long while, suddenly understanding why she had fled in panic after their one night together.

Right now, he, too, felt the urge to step outside and collect himself.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains.

Juchen once again experienced the misery of a hangover, her temples throbbing painfully. Propped against the pillow, she gnawed at her thumb, struggling to recall what had happened after Song Mi carried her inside last night.

Her mind was blank emptier than that drunken night in her past life.

After fruitless deliberation, she gave up and rose like a wandering spirit, only to realize she was completely naked beneath the covers.

The door suddenly creaked open. Juchen hastily pulled the blanket up to her chest as Song Mi stepped in, impeccably dressed, carrying a tray of breakfast.

“Awake?”

“Mhm.”

Setting the tray down, Song Mi glanced at her and explained, “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to dress you. You insisted on sleeping like this last night.”

“I insisted?” Juchen repeated, voice strained.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Song Mi handed her the clothes discarded at the foot. “You insisted on stripping and lying in my arms.”

This was what happened after Juchen woke up from her nap. Her drunkenness always came in two stages after sleeping it off, she’d usually start acting out.

For a fleeting moment, Juchen almost thought there was less teasing in his tone today compared to usual. But his expression remained unreadable as ever.

“Just lying down?” she asked.

Song Mi glanced at her and was about to answer when Juchen instinctively sensed danger. She covered his lips with her hand, “Alright, you don’t need to say anything.”

His brows furrowed slightly. Truth be told, he had not taken advantage of her last night. Though she had unconsciously clung to him in her drunken state, he’d surprisingly resisted the temptation to exploit the situation.

They had simply slept side by side.

But given how he was perceived in her eyes, even if he told the truth, she probably wouldn’t believe him anymore. Song Mi sighed quietly to himself.

After dressing with her back turned to him, Juchen sat at the table for breakfast. Noticing her tired state, Song Mi asked if she would like some tea to refresh herself.

Juchen nodded. As Song Mi prepared the tea by the stove, making casual conversation, she responded naturally without noticing anything amiss.

Looking out the window suddenly, Song Mi asked, “What year is it now?”

Juchen answered without thinking.

Song Mi nodded. “Two more years until Luohé’s decennial Magpie Bridge Festival.”

Juchen paused her chopsticks mid air, calculating he was right.

A smile surfaced as she reminisced, “We’ll surely see countless couples gathering secretly by the river then, praying for the Magpie Fairies’ blessings.”

The eastern capital’s Luohé River hosted a spectacular phenomenon every ten years, on February 10th at dusk, flocks of magpies returning from their winter migration would rest along the banks. Their formations would curve across the sky like an arched bridge connecting both shores.

Bathed in golden sunset reflections on the river, this rare spectacle took on divine significance. Locals believed it signaled the descent of Magpie Fairies blessing lovers’ unions, hence establishing the festival. When the day came, the entire riverside would glitter with lanterns and fireworks.

Juchen had witnessed it once an unforgettable sight.

“This time, I’ll stake out my spot from afternoon to catch the first glimpse of the magpie bridge,” she said eagerly. Last time she had arrived too late, only seeing the dispersed resting flocks, yet even that had taken her breath away.

Watching her propped chin and dreamy expression, Song Mi recalled their first accidental meeting during the festival. It was when the Liang Dynasty had just emerged from war. As news of victory reached the capital, magpies’ joyful cries had accompanied the city’s gradual revival.

Countless trips to Luohé, yet that was the first time Juchen’s busy figure had paused by its waters.

Song Mi, who was beside her at the time, teased, “Minister Li, have you never seen the Magpie Bridge before?”

Juchen shot him a glance. “Not as long lived as you, with such broad experience. No one took me to see it as a child, and the last time the Magpie Bridge appeared, I was still in Jiangyang.”

That year was the eighth year of the Zhiyuan era after the Empress’s ascension, twelve years before the present day.

Before this, Juchen had never seen the Magpie Bridge.

But now, she clearly remembered the scene from that day.

The last lingering doubt in Song Mi’s heart gradually dissipated under her nostalgic gaze, replaced by a heartbeat that quickened bit by bit, pounding like a drum.

The sound of boiling water interrupted his thoughts. Song Mi poured the hot water into the tea bowl, stirring it with a tea whisk, using the rhythmic motion to calm his excitement mixed with a hint of fluster.

He couldn’t be blamed for being momentarily speechless. Anyone realizing that the delicate body they had enjoyed for so long housed the very person they had yearned for over the years would surely find their mind blank at first.

Excitement, tinged with a trace of awkwardness, swirled within him.

The excitement was self-explanatory; the awkwardness stemmed from the fact that despite the pure affection in the letter he had written her, his actions toward her in this lifetime bore no resemblance to innocence whatsoever.

The more Song Mi reflected, the more he recalled how thoroughly his worst tendencies had been laid bare before her within those bed curtains.

He couldn’t help but cough dryly.

Unaware of this subtle probing, Juchen not only remembered the beautiful scenery of the Luo River that day but also recalled another crucial matter.

She fixed her sparkling eyes on him and said earnestly, “When the time comes, if you’re free, let’s go see it together by the Luo River, alright?”
The year Song Mi died was when the Magpie Bridge appeared.

In that dim dungeon, they shared three cups of wine together. The first two toasted to their decades of rivalry, to their time as opponents and sworn enemies. Only with the final cup did he fall silent for a long while before looking toward the faint light outside. “What a pity this year’s Magpie Bridge won’t be seen.”

Thinking he remembered how she’d once lamented missing the full process of the bridge’s formation, Juchen lowered her eyes, a smile playing at her lips as she clasped her hands and raised her cup to him. “Then I’ll have to trouble you to take an extra look for me.”

He didn’t nod then, merely clinked his cup against hers with a wistful sigh.

“If there’s another life.”

Later, when the new Emperor announced her death to the world before secretly releasing her from the dungeon, Juchen appeared before the Luo River in a hooded cloak. Staring blankly at the magnificent Magpie Bridge, she finally understood his sigh of regret had been for himself.

Under Juchen’s intense gaze, Song Mi’s brief silence was broken by a flicker of reminiscence in his eyes. Curving his lips, he simply said, “Alright.”

Juchen cheered in delight, but before she could react further, Song Mi had already risen from the table and come before her, offering the teacup.

Juchen thanked him softly. Meeting her clear, beautiful eyes, Song Mi took a quiet breath, clenched his fist slightly, and had just begun to say “I….” when the door was suddenly knocked.

Xuyang had come around the corridor early. Seeing Juchen’s figure seated inside through the open window, she pushed the door open unceremoniously and barged in.

Song Mi hadn’t yet figured out how to confess or how to calmly acknowledge her, and now being interrupted again, he could only swallow his words and silently return to the tea table.

His mind had long wandered far away, giving him an air of detachment so much so that he even ignored Xuyang’s questioning. Juchen’s delicate, lotus like face remained pale for a long moment before she gradually realized, from Xuyang’s calm expression, that she had mistaken the man sitting at the table for the young courtesan she had groomed.

Instantly, Juchen dispelled the fear and panic of being caught in an affair and instead shot Song Mi a look of admiration.

Casually answering Xuyang’s question for him, she said, “He just improvised a tune last night. I didn’t expect you’d find it passable.”

Xuyang nodded and sat down beside Juchen. “I remember his qin skills weren’t this good before. Seems like you’ve trained him well. Honestly, the way he’s ignoring me with such indifference it almost feels like my uncle is right in front of me.”

“Isn’t that right?” Juchen forced a dry laugh.

Xuyang studied him again, this time with more scrutiny. Song Mi noticed her gaze this time and met it expressionlessly. It was unclear whose royal demeanor faltered first, but Xuyang only knew an inexplicable unease had crept into her heart.

Tactically diverting her gaze through conversation, she leaned toward Juchen’s ear and asked bluntly, “So, you tried him last night how was it?

With just him, do you think we can take down Feng Zhenzhen?”

Her voice was not particularly loud, but she made no effort to hide it either. In her eyes, he was merely a pawn in her scheme.

Juchen coughed several times in alarm, her eyes darting nervously toward the tea table to gauge his reaction. In a hushed voice, she said, “I think he’s still lacking. Maybe we shouldn’t use this move yet.”

Xuyang frowned. “Lacking? In what way? His mannerisms or his performance in bed?”

Juchen: “…” Ancestors above, could you please not speak so loudly?

A pair of icy, penetrating eyes had already swept over from across the tea table.