Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 67

Outside the courtyard, the night was deep, the moonlight reflecting on the lake. A gust of wind passed, stirring ripples that shimmered like scattered silver.

Cold sweat once again dampened Juchen’s neck. Song Mi got up and stepped out, intending to find Xuyang to ask for another set of suitable clothes for her to change into.

Meanwhile, Xuyang had already pulled Mingluan to the table and pinched her cheek first. “You’re something else. Such a huge thing happened, and you didn’t even think to tell me.”

Mingluan had already explained the whole story of how Juchen ended up being taken to Qinfu Garden when Xuyang woke up, so she naturally knew Xuyang was referring to her mistress’s secret affair outside. “The young mistress forbade me from speaking of it.”

“She forbade you, and you just let her act recklessly?” Xuyang pinched a small bump on Mingluan’s cheek before sighing and releasing her. After hesitating for a long while, she couldn’t help but ask, “When did those two start?”

“Right around the time of your wedding, the young mistress inexplicably got involved with him,” Mingluan answered truthfully.

Xuyang’s delicate brows furrowed slightly as she whispered, “Was she forced?”

Mingluan shook her head.

Xuyang pondered repeatedly, her hand trembling suddenly. “When did she take a liking to my uncle? This girl had someone in her heart all along, yet she never breathed a word to me?”

For Juchen’s closest confidante, this was undoubtedly a heavy blow. Recalling Juchen’s words, Mingluan hurriedly defended her, “The young mistress absolutely didn’t mean to exclude you she had her reasons. I remember when they first got involved, she told me it was to repay a debt of gratitude.”

Xuyang frowned deeply. “What debt?”

She and Juchen had grown up together, practically inseparable before marriage. She couldn’t recall any favor her uncle had ever done for Juchen.

“The young mistress didn’t tell me that part,” Mingluan said, lowering her eyes.

Indeed, neither of them had the slightest memory of any prior interaction between the two. But given Juchen’s temperament, there was no reason for her to deceive them.

If she hadn’t been willing, no one could have forced her.

Yet Mingluan often saw her return covered in love bites. Standing by the vanity, Mingluan would do her best to conceal them with powder, unable to help but ache for her mistress, who had given herself to someone without any formal commitment and still had to hide the evidence.

“Though I don’t know what the debt was, it must have been an immense kindness one impossible to repay otherwise. Otherwise, the young mistress wouldn’t have disregarded herself like this. If she wanted to climb the social ladder, there were so many noble sons who adored her over the years why would she have remained indifferent? I think it must have been him who harbored ill intentions first, coveting her for a long time, demanding her body as repayment. The young mistress, bound by gratitude and with no other choice, had no choice but to.”

Before Mingluan could finish, a sudden voice came from outside: “Your Highness!”

Xuyang’s eyes widened in shock as she sat frozen at the table, staring at the door.

The one who had called out, Matron Hong, respectfully pushed the door open for him. Song Mi stepped inside, meeting Xuyang’s gaze. His tone was gentle as he said, “She’s sweating again. Could you fetch another change of clothes?”

His expression was utterly calm, as if he had only just arrived at the door.

Xuyang exhaled silently in relief, smiling gracefully as she agreed. She tugged Mingluan’s hand, signaling her to hurry into the inner room to retrieve the clothes.

Ming Luan stood frozen in place, nearly frightened out of her wits by the mention of “His Highness.” Recalling her earlier disrespectful words “ill intentions,” “covetousness,” “no choice”, any one of them could have condemned her to a gruesome death.

Now, as Xuyang snapped her back to reality, Ming Luan immediately curtsied and fled, determined never to appear before Song Mi again.

Xuyang, worried about Juchen, struggled to restrain himself but eventually couldn’t help asking Song Mi if he could go check on her.

Song Mi didn’t object, strolling back outside. Xuyang personally took the clothes and silently followed behind him.

Song Mi remained composed throughout, responding politely to Xuyang’s casual remarks, a faint, lazy smile lingering at the corners of his lips.

But Xuyang couldn’t shake the feeling that he had heard everything.

Once inside, Song Mi personally brought a basin of hot water and wiped the sweat from Juchen’s forehead again. When his fingers brushed the buttons of her robe, he suddenly paused. After a brief silence, he stood up from the bedside and asked Xuyang to take over, requesting that he help clean her body.

By the time Juchen awoke, daylight had fully broken, the early spring sun casting golden light through the window onto the bed curtains.

She slowly propped herself up, finding the room empty.

Rubbing her forehead, she remembered that the effects of the Binding Spirit Wine should have lasted at least three days, yet she had slept peacefully through the latter half of the night without a single dream.

But the nightmares from the first half were enough to shatter her heart.

Ming Luan was sweeping the courtyard when she saw Juchen push open the door and hurriedly dropped her broom. “Miss, you’re awake!”

Juchen glanced around, realizing she was in the princess’s residence, and frowned as she asked Ming Luan for details. She naturally assumed Xuyang had rushed to the Palace of Longevity and Health to rescue her, her heart uneasy at the thought of him angering the Empress Dowager for her sake. But when Ming Luan revealed that it was Prince Pengshan who had carried her out of the palace, Juchen’s unease dissolved into a vast, bewildering sorrow.

“I owe him again,” Juchen murmured, her heart aching.

She didn’t know how to repay him, nor did she want him to make any more sacrifices for her.

Song Mi had returned to court that morning to report on his duties. No one in the imperial court knew about what had transpired in the Palace of Longevity the previous day. The Empress Dowager acted as though nothing had happened, sitting behind the curtain with a pleasant expression as she praised him for a job well done.

After court adjourned, Song Mi discussed matters with the ministers in the Grand Secretariat until noon, finally finding a moment to rest. Yuan Ruo brought him a cup of hot tea. He skimmed the foam, took a sip, and, without bothering to eat, stood up to head for the princess’s residence.

He wanted to visit Juchen. But as he walked along the palace’s main thoroughfare, he spotted the very person he longed to see, already standing unharmed in the distance, dressed in a newly tailored official’s robe, staring intently at another man’s retreating figure.

Juchen had returned to duty at the Phoenix Pavilion. At a corner of the imperial city, she ran into Yuan Zheng, who had been drunk the night before and slept through until morning. He had just woken up when he received a summons from the Empress Dowager.

They exchanged brief greetings, but with the Chief Eunuch urging him to hurry, Yuan Zheng quickly turned and left.

Juchen watched his back for a long time before turning around only to abruptly meet a pair of deep, mesmerizing eyes.

Song Mi asked, “How are you feeling? Any lingering discomfort?”

Juchen shook her head and thanked him.

With no one else around, Song Mi nodded, then after a moment of contemplation, asked softly, “Are you free tonight?”

Juchen’s hands hidden in her sleeves involuntarily clenched tightly as she lowered her gaze to the hem of her skirt. “I can’t today I still have several tasks left unfinished.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, I’m busy too.”

After a brief silence, Song Mi opened his mouth again, only for Juchen to interrupt: “I might not have time recently at all.”

Song Mi let out a derisive laugh. “Is it that you don’t want to do that with me, or is it simply that you don’t want to see me?”

Yet he hadn’t asked her out for that reason. He merely had a few words he wanted to say to her.

“I truly don’t have time.”

Juchen kept her head bowed, never lifting her eyes to meet his. Her heart felt as though it were being crushed in an iron grip, making it almost impossible to breathe. Gritting her teeth, she secretly let her eyes redden in the angle he couldn’t see.

After an immeasurable silence, a low “Mm” came from above her. The figure standing before her turned and left.

The entire afternoon, Juchen sat at her desk, her mind utterly absent. When Yuan Zheng entered, she was staring blankly at official documents, the ink on the inkstone long dried.

Yuan Zheng glanced at the time it was just the hour for the evening meal and forcibly dragged her from her desk to Taiyuan Tower.

Juchen hadn’t wanted to come out, but Yuan Zheng claimed he had matters to discuss. He led her to a private room on the second floor, insisting she order a few dishes. When the waiter brought tea, pouring it before them before bowing out, Juchen took a sip and asked what he wanted to discuss.

Yuan Zheng looked at her. “Her Majesty the Empress Dowager spoke to me about yesterday’s matter.”

Juchen’s hand holding the cup stilled. Yuan Zheng continued, “A day as husband and wife brings a hundred days of affection. Her Majesty originally wanted to facilitate a happy union, but seeing the current state between Xu Yang and me, she thought you weren’t wrong. It seems you’ve convinced her if we truly can’t make it work, she’s agreed to let Xu Yang and me separate.”

This should have been welcome news, the outcome she’d originally hoped for.

Yet Juchen’s face showed no trace of joy.

“Can you tell me what you said to her?” Yuan Zheng suddenly smiled. “If you could sway Her Majesty, surely you can convince me too.”

Perhaps this was why the atmosphere had grown heavy. Juchen understood better than anyone the sincerity of Yuan Zheng’s feelings for Xu Yang. Even if their current relationship wasn’t harmonious, asking him to agree to a separation was still a difficult choice for him.

“Yuan Zheng, your beginning with Ran Ran was a mistake from the start.”

Juchen took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Since it was a mistake, it should be corrected in time before either of you becomes too deeply mired.”

She began listing all the reasons they were incompatible, as if speaking to him, yet also to herself.

As if persuading him, yet also persuading herself.

Given the chance to live again, Juchen believed she ought to guide them including Song Mi toward a better outcome, rather than letting them circle back to where they started.

Before they invested too much in this marriage.

And before Song Mi… fell in love with her.

Yuan Zheng knew perfectly well that were it not for that accident, he and Xu Yang would never have been possible. She had never wanted to marry him in the first place. She’d originally had a mutual affection with someone else someone who understood her better and was more attuned to her heart than he could ever be.

Previously, he’d had no choice but to obey the imperial decree. Now that there was a chance to let them be together, he ought to bow out gracefully.

Yuan Zheng hadn’t yet cultivated the mental fortitude to remain completely unruffled.

During tonight’s dinner, he had done little more than down cup after cup of wine. By the time the bill was settled and he stepped out the door, he nearly tripped over the threshold, stumbling forward as if about to topple over.

Fortunately, Juchen was beside him to steady him.

Yuan Zheng braced himself against the doorframe, lifting his head with a reassuring smile as he patted the back of Juchen’s hand, trying to ease her worries. But in the next moment, another slender hand suddenly reached out, pulling him firmly away from her grasp.

Yuan Zheng turned in surprise, meeting a pair of icy eyes. He was about to bow in greeting when Song Mi, expressionless, steadied him with a firm grip yet his gaze never once landed on Yuan Zheng, instead fixing on Juchen with a tone devoid of warmth.

“Minister Li, weren’t you supposed to be occupied tonight?”

Juchen stiffened. Yuan Zheng, unaware of the situation, assumed she had neglected official duties and was caught slacking off. He quickly spoke up in her defense, “Your Highness, tonight was my fault I insisted on dragging her out.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Yuan Zheng choked back his words, a weight settling in his chest. There wasn’t a trace of anger in Song Mi’s voice, yet those few clipped words alone were enough to suffocate him.

No wonder even someone as bold and reckless as Xu Yang, that golden child of the imperial family, was so intimidated by him.

Juchen lowered her eyes. “This official merely stepped out for a meal. I was about to return to the Phoenix Pavilion.” She glanced at Yuan Zheng, swaying unsteadily, and paused. “I’ll see him home first, then return to my duties.”

Song Mi didn’t press further, nor did he allow her to escort the drunken Yuan Zheng. Instead, he hauled him straight into his own carriage, taking it upon himself to send him back his entire demeanor as though guarding against some ulterior motive on her part.

Juchen recalled how she had once taken advantage of his drunkenness to lead him straight into her bedchamber. A pang of regret struck her from start to finish, she had never left him with a good impression.

As the carriage rumbled forward, Yuan Zheng offered his thanks. Song Mi sat across from him, cold and detached. After a long silence, Yuan Zheng couldn’t help but brave the oppressive atmosphere to plead Juchen’s case once more, insisting she hadn’t been neglecting her duties it was just that his relationship with Xu Yang had hit a rough patch, and with no one else to confide in, he had dragged her out to listen to his woes.

For once, Song Mi deigned to respond, though his tone gave no hint whether it was idle chatter or genuine concern. “When you and Xu Yang had problems, what was her stance?”

Yuan Zheng sighed. “A-Chen, she supports my decision to divorce Xu Yang.”

A dull ache flared in Song Mi’s chest yet it was hardly unexpected. After a long silence, he turned his gaze to the night outside the window. “Will you go through with it?”

Yuan Zheng’s eyes darkened. “Most likely.”

Song Mi said nothing more, his reflection lost in the heavy night. For a moment, his mind wandered, as if an invisible hand had reached out effortlessly to pluck away the most precious thing he had buried deep in his heart.

Juchen returned to the Phoenix Pavilion, still unable to focus on her work.

Only when the night grew late and quiet did she force herself to skim through the day’s documents.

With a long sigh, she decided she had put on enough of a show. By now, Song Mi surely wouldn’t bother coming to check on her. Just as she rose from her desk, an attendant hurried in with a stack of urgent memorials that needed immediate delivery to the Grand Secretariat.

Juchen bit her lip in frustration but had no choice. Reluctantly, she took the documents and steeled herself as she made her way toward the Grand Secretariat.

She had been praying that the person remaining in the cabinet wasn’t him please don’t let it be him. Just as she reached the doorway, the sound of a cup shattering on the floor echoed from inside.

“Get out!”

A familiar, pleasant male voice rang out. Juchen’s heart sank, and she hurriedly stepped inside. The small chamber belonging to Prince Pengshan was brightly lit by candlelight, and a slender figure, wiping tears from her eyes, rushed out.

When she looked up and saw Juchen, her eyes were red and swollen. Clenching her teeth, she demanded, “Why are you here? Do you like him too?”

Juchen frowned, taking in Feng Zhenzhen’s attire a green robe typically worn by young eunuchs. A memory surfaced in her mind.

In her past life, after the Empress Dowager deposed the emperor, the Feng family had become like grasshoppers in late autumn, with no hope of recovery.

Knowing she would soon be imprisoned, Feng Zhenzhen, unwilling to accept her fate, had once disguised herself as a palace attendant and sneaked into the cabinet at night to drug Song Mi, hoping for a single night of his affection.

Yet he had coldly dismissed her with, “Your Majesty, please maintain your dignity.”

She had abandoned all pride, yet still couldn’t earn even a shred of his pity. This man truly had a heart of stone.

Back then, Feng Zhenzhen, disheartened and in tears, had fled only to run into Juchen outside and ask the same question: “Do you like Song Mi?”

At that time, Juchen had already risen to a high-ranking official position and had been opposing Song Mi for years. After a brief pause, she had chuckled lightly and replied, “Your Highness, please don’t jest.”

Now, Juchen turned and entered the chamber, finding Song Mi leaning quietly against the desk, his eyes lifting to meet hers.

He must have heard their conversation.

Juchen stepped inside, explaining that she had only come to deliver documents.

Taking a few more steps, she noticed a faint flush creeping up his ears. A belated realization struck her, and she glanced back in the direction Feng Zhenzhen had fled. Almost involuntarily, she murmured, “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

Her tone suggested that even if there had been something between him and Feng Zhenzhen, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

Song Mi let out a cold laugh and beckoned her. “Come here.”

His commanding tone left her no choice but to obey. As she approached, a strange fragrance suddenly filled her nostrils identical to the scent she had once encountered in Qin Fu Garden.

Then, without warning, he seized the back of her head, pulling her close until their lips were barely a hair’s breadth apart.

Staring into her wide, startled eyes, Song Mi wondered whether it was the incense or his own heart playing tricks if he could take her now, feign ignorance afterward, and finally have her as he desired.

Would she willingly follow him if he took her virtue?

Would she?

No.

The answer came swiftly, and the grip on her head loosened. He tilted his head back with a bitter laugh, hating how clear his mind remained.

Juchen, held captive, had barely dared to breathe. Only when he released her did she exhale sharply, glaring at him with knitted brows. His ears had turned a deeper shade of red, the flush spreading to the corners of his eyes.

She had rarely seen him like this always so untouchable, so superior. Now, with his eyes tinged red and his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable, he carried an almost earthly allure that stirred forbidden thoughts.

Realizing something was wrong, Juchen quickly helped him to the imperial hospital.

The Empress Dowager was still at Mount Tai, preparing for the grand sacrificial rites. As the only witness tonight, if anything happened to Song Mi and she failed to act, she would have a hard time explaining herself.

Juchen kept vigil by his bedside all night.

When Song Mi regained consciousness, he turned his head slightly and saw her.

For just a brief moment, his gaze softened as he looked at her.

Juchen didn’t let him linger in that state for long. Soon, she rubbed her eyes and woke up, meeting his gaze before hesitantly rising to greet him.

Song Mi smiled. “Did I scare you?”

“Not really,” Juchen coughed awkwardly, her words stiff. “Though Your Highness is detestable, I still believe in your character.”

Song Mi propped himself up with a sigh. “Don’t think of me so highly.”

He was only human. He had desires too.

Juchen retorted, “I never said you were a good man.”

Song Mi chuckled.

He almost wished she didn’t see him as one. What impression could such a label possibly leave in her heart?

Outside, the night was deep and silent. The vast imperial palace was swallowed by thick mist.

In this lifetime, Feng Zhenzhen had disguised herself as a eunuch, repeating her old tricks.

Juchen didn’t answer her question, only saying, “The night is late. If Your Highness has no further business, you should return quickly.”

Of course, she wanted her punished after all, she had dared to drug Song Mi.

But if this royal scandal were exposed, it wouldn’t just tarnish Feng Zhenzhen’s reputation.

This was also why Song Mi had swallowed his anger in his past life. He didn’t want the emperor, already humiliated by the Feng family’s downfall, to be further mocked with the shame of cuckoldry.

After Feng Zhenzhen left in frustration, Juchen hurried inside and asked uncertainly, “Are you alright?”

Song Mi stood by the table and beckoned her again. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Juchen stepped forward. Song Mi cupped the back of her head and kissed her without warning.

Juchen’s eyes reddened as she accepted his unrestrained claim on her lips, lightly pushing him away.

“Unwilling?”

She avoided his gaze, shaking her head. “I’ll close the door.”

Once the study door was locked from the inside, their official robes tangled together and slipped to the floor.

Song Mi pressed her onto the desk where he usually worked. Juchen, sensing an unfamiliar dominance in him, assumed it was the drug’s effect making him so forceful. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Outside, a spring rain began to fall, its patter soft and steady.

Juchen’s dazed eyes fixed on the bamboo shadows swaying against the window lattice, mirroring the rise and fall of her body in his arms.

He lifted her flushed face.

Locked in his deep gaze, she surrendered to the pleasure he gave her, yet a sense of loss lingered amidst their reckless passion.

As his anger dissolved into desire, Song Mi’s mood plummeted after their release.

He set her down, gathered her clothes, and stood to retrieve the belt he had tossed aside.

Juchen adjusted her undergarment, pulling it back over her shoulders. After a long silence, she spoke. “Your Highness, it’s best if we end this between us.”

Song Mi’s movements stilled, his fingers slowly tightening around the edge of the belt.

So, she had finally said it.

If this was about compensation, about repaying a debt she had given him two years of herself. In his eyes, that was more than enough.

After all, he had never dared to hope he could truly have her.

Now, she would finally seek to mend her own regrets.

“Have you thought it through?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.”