Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 69

She remembered to eat and sleep, her abilities undiminished from years past.

With outstanding political achievements, she made a name for herself in Qiancheng in just half a year, her reputation reaching even the ears of the Governor of Yuzhang.

When the governor came down for an inspection, he specially commended her and generously hosted a banquet, inviting her to attend.

Juchen still had case files to review that evening, so she bowed politely and tactfully declined.

Governor Luo had no choice but to approach her, clearing his throat. “This isn’t just a casual gathering. I do have something I’d like to discuss with Magistrate Li.”

“Governor, please speak freely.”

“I will soon be heading to the capital to report on my duties, coinciding with Prince Pengshan’s birthday. Having long admired His Highness, I wish to express my regards but I’m unsure what he favors. I have heard that Magistrate Li once served under him and even accompanied him in escorting Princess Heshuo to her wedding. Surely you must know a little about his preferences? I came specifically to seek your advice.”

The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he finished speaking, and Juchen froze as if struck.

Under Governor Luo’s intense gaze, she lowered her eyes and replied softly, “Prince Pengshan… is not old.”

“Ah, yes, my mistake.” The governor paused, then forced a smile. “I’ve prepared some antique ink treasures and curios, but I’m uncertain whether he has a particular preference jade, perhaps, or porcelain?”

“He doesn’t like any of those.”

Her answer was so absolute that it struck him as odd. “Have you given him such gifts before?”

“No.”

She had merely seen many antiques in Ciyou Villa, but they were mostly decorative pieces she had never seen him handle them. Perhaps it wasn’t that he disliked them, but that he simply had no time. When he did have time, he spent it with her.

Juchen smiled faintly. “I only heard as much.”

But there was one thing she was certain of.

“These gifts are too extravagant. He is a man of integrity and may not accept them.” Her voice was calm. “If you truly wish to give him something he would take, simple, modest offerings would suffice.”

“Wouldn’t something too simple seem disrespectful?”

“He has seen far too many fine things. No matter how valuable your gift, to him, it may be nothing special. Local specialties from Yuzhang would be better at least they’re something he hasn’t encountered in the capital.”

Governor Luo looked enlightened. “Anything else? Does His Highness have any particular likes or dislikes?”

He liked red.

He liked fishing, riding, traveling, and gazing upon grand mountains and rivers.

He didn’t like sweets. Other than that, he was not picky he ate whatever was given to him and was easy to please.

He loved animals. Though his archery was unmatched, he never attended royal hunting feasts. She had once thought he was deliberately holding back, concealing his skills, but in truth, he simply disliked hunting small creatures.

He played the qin beautifully, was skilled at chess, and his painting was exceptional though his calligraphy was a bit messy, it was still good.

He could hold his liquor well but never overindulged. His drinking manners were impeccable, and so was his sleeping posture. Every time she drifted off in his arms and woke to find him still there, she would look up and feel as though she were gazing upon a painting of a slumbering beauty.

Perhaps she should have asked him to paint a portrait of himself for her.

“As for the rest, I’m afraid I don’t know.” Juchen smiled gently.

Yet when Governor Luo casually picked out a few local specialties in Qiancheng to take back to the capital, Juchen lingered by his side, carefully selecting each one.

Governor Luo was deeply grateful and noticed a unique thoughtfulness in her selections that set her apart from others.

Out of appreciation, he offered, “If Magistrate Li has any blessings you’d like to convey, I could deliver them for you?”

He had expected her to be delighted every choice she made seemed so meticulous, as if she were hoping to bring joy to the recipient.

Her gaze did indeed pause for a moment. After a flush of pink, her face paled, and she laughed self deprecatingly, “No, that won’t be necessary. A minor official like me sending him gifts would seem too obsequious, out of place.”

Her excuse sounded perfectly reasonable, yet upon closer inspection, it made no sense at all.

To outsiders, the two of them shared some rapport. It would be entirely appropriate for her to send him birthday wishes through someone else.

Prince Pengshan never held birthday banquets, nor did he appreciate others using the occasion to send him gifts. Juchen had witnessed his unmistakable annoyance before. Two years ago, fearing she might displease him, she hadn’t dared mention it. Instead, before his visit to the Ciyou Retreat, she sneaked into the kitchen, pretending to be a cook, and made him a bowl of longevity noodles.

She was truly terrible at cooking. Golden milk cakes were already the limit of what she could manage under the Empress’s pressure. The noodles had accidentally turned out too salty, but he didn’t seem to mind just furrowed his brows slightly and finished them.

He really was easy to please.

Last year, having grown slightly closer to him, she couldn’t resist bringing it up. Their eyes met, and he teased, “Magistrate Li wants to give me a gift too? Then I want the moon from the sky.”

Juchen promptly shut her mouth, silently grumbling to herself. When it was her birthday, he had politely asked what she wanted and fulfilled her wishes.

Yet when it came to his own, he was being hypocritical.

On the day itself, during a rare break from duties, he summoned her to the Ciyou Retreat. In broad daylight, he drew the bed curtains.

By the time the young woman was pleading for mercy, he wrapped her in a blanket as autumn rain began to patter outside.

Drops gathered on the eaves, forming rivulets that cascaded down. The retreat was serene and secluded. He piled memorials by the bedside, leaning against the headboard with one arm around her and the other handling official documents.

She admired his unflappable composure, nestled against him as she wove a hair ribbon for him.

He usually tied his hair up with a crown, but occasionally left it loose, fastened only at the ends a look she found pleasing and gentle.

Her nose grew increasingly sore, her eyes warming with unshed tears.

Juchen forced her eyes wide open, refusing to blink as she escorted Governor Luo out of the city. On her way back, perhaps from straining her eyes too much, her vision suddenly blurred.

She rubbed her eyes, but when she opened them again, her gaze remained unfocused, almost oblivious to the path ahead.

Shaking her head, she repeatedly rubbed her eyes along the way, her mind wandering until she misstepped and stumbled.

Inside the yamen, Mingluan had prepared dinner when the gatekeeper urgently knocked, panting as he informed her that the magistrate had fallen into the water.

Mingluan immediately dashed out into the dim evening, rushing to the lakeside just as Juchen climbed ashore. Drenched, wrapped in a cloak, her skirts dripping, exhaustion overwhelmed her the moment she reached land. Staggering, she simply sat down.

She thought she might rest there for a while, but Mingluan rushed over, bending down to embrace her shoulders.

Juchen looked up, her vision now clear again. Seeing Mingluan’s reddened eyes, she quickly reassured, “Don’t panic. I wasn’t trying to drown myself I just wasn’t paying attention and fell in.”

Juchen explained to Yan, “I can swim, as you know. I swam up on my own. It’s just that my clothes were wet, and it wouldn’t have been proper to come ashore immediately, so I floated by the bank for a while, which might have made it look like I’d fallen in.”

She remembered someone disliked others seeing her drenched, so she had waited until someone threw her a robe before coming ashore.

Juchen’s gaze was earnest, not the least bit evasive, clearly speaking the truth. Yet her face was as pale as paper, her long hair dragging on the ground, the water droplets from her temples falling onto Ming Luan’s sleeves.

The cold dampness seeped through her skin, spreading to the depths of her heart.

Ming Luan wasn’t comforted in the slightest. Her lashes trembled, and she couldn’t hold back any longer, softly voicing the question that had been weighing on her heart: “Did that person abandon you after taking advantage?”

Juchen’s expression froze. She lowered her head. “I was the one who ended it.”

Ming Luan sorrowfully bowed her head as well, embracing her and hoarsely scolding, “Miss, are you an idiot?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the fear she’d felt on her way here burst forth like floodwaters, transforming into rebukes that poured out unchecked. Forgetting all decorum, she held Juchen tight and called her an idiot three times in a row. This was the first time Juchen had ever been scolded by her, and she sat there dumbfounded, stiff for a long moment before she began to ponder Ming Luan’s words.

Was she an idiot?

In Ming Luan’s eyes, of course she was.

Ming Luan didn’t know why Juchen had left him, but in all the stories she’d read, any girl who had the chance to climb the social ladder would go to any lengths to keep her man’s affection. Some even claimed they didn’t care about status while secretly carrying his child, only to show up at his doorstep later.

Yet her mistress was so painfully honest, letting herself be used for two years without gaining anything in the end.

She’d had so many chances to demand he take responsibility.

She had, after all, loved him.

The autumn lake water was bitterly cold. Though Juchen was clearly shivering, she seemed to have been holding herself rigid all along. Ming Luan held her close, trying to impart some warmth.

Juchen was still dripping cold water, and Ming Luan thought staying by the lakeside in the chilly wind wasn’t wise. Just as she was about to help Juchen up, two scalding droplets suddenly fell onto the back of her hand.

With a soft plop, someone’s shoulders trembled.

Ming Luan felt as if she’d been burned. Then she heard a slightly choked whisper from the figure in her arms, “Ming Luan could you do me a favor?”

There were still many passersby concerned about the magistrate nearby. Not wanting others to see her in this state, Juchen buried her face completely in Ming Luan’s embrace.

Mimicking Juchen’s composure, Ming Luan shielded her with her arm and asked softly by her ear, “What is it?”

“Could you send someone on horseback to intercept the governor’s procession for me?” Juchen kept her head down, tears glistening beneath her lashes as she choked out, “I want to send him a birthday gift too. Can you ask him to deliver it for me?”

This year, Prince Pengshan’s birthday coincidentally fell during the period when many officials were returning to the capital to report on their duties.

The prince’s residence was bustling with activity, visitors coming and going like a school of fish.

In previous years, Song Mi would usually have the guards close the gates to politely decline visitors. But this year, he opened his doors to receive guests especially the various provincial governors. As the chief official of the prefecture level region, he extended his regards to each of them with the same three impartial questions: “How is the climate in your area cold in winter, hot in summer?” “How many county level jurisdictions are under your administration? Are they all doing well, or are any facing difficulties?” And finally, he would casually inquire about one of the counties, asking about local conditions and the officials there.

When it was Governor Luo of Yuzhang’s turn to enter, Song Mi deliberately reached out to help him up from his kneeling salute.

Since arriving in the capital, Governor Luo had heard rumors that the Prince of Pengshan had been overwhelmed with duties in recent years and had grown noticeably thinner. Now, touching his icy fingertips, he realized the rumors were indeed true.

Song Mi ordered tea to be served. Taking advantage of the initial pleasantries, Governor Luo urged him to take care of his health.

Song Mi nodded and proceeded with his routine inquiries. Governor Luo answered each question carefully and appropriately, but at one point, overcome with curiosity, he dared to steal a glance at the prince’s face.

Seated in the place of honor was a man whose beauty seemed almost otherworldly, yet his expression was as calm as still water, revealing no emotion whatsoever. It was as if he were merely asking out of formality, indifferent to any of their responses.

Governor Luo even suspected that the moment they turned to leave, Song Mi would forget everything they had just said.

Picking up his teacup after Governor Luo answered the second question, Song Mi lowered his gaze and asked, “The Qiancheng you mentioned earlier is the scenery truly as beautiful as they say?”