Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 38
38
The night was serene.
A crescent moon hung in the sky, its faint light mingling with the soft glow of lanterns to dispel the darkness. The peach orchard within the imperial palace bloomed with the vibrant colors of spring. People dressed in various luxurious robes sat cross-legged on cushioned mats, low tables laden with fruits and pastries scattered across the lawn in small clusters.
This was a banquet specially arranged by the Emperor for Jiang Ciqing. It was said that after she inherited her title, there had been no formal ceremony, nor had she announced it to others. She had simply carried on quietly for months.
For instance, those who gathered around Xu Fusheng that morning still referred to her as “Master Jiang,” fully aware of her ennoblement but lacking any real sense of its weight. They continued addressing her as they always had.
Thus, His Majesty personally summoned her from seclusion and ordered his subordinates to organize this banquet in the palace for her.
The sight made many envious—who had ever seen the Emperor take such pains for a vassal? Even the princes who had differentiated as Alphas had never received such treatment.
Now, well into the banquet, the Emperor, whose health had been declining, had retired early. After a few cups of wine, the guests shed their usual restraint, becoming relaxed and carefree.
Since the banquet was for Jiang Ciqing, everyone had tacitly donned the ancient Chu-style robes they hadn’t worn in ages. However, accustomed to simpler, more practical attire, they found the elaborate, slightly restrictive garments somewhat uncomfortable.
Some, more casual, simply shed their outer robes and tossed them aside. Others, more mindful of appearances, left their wide robes half-open, letting the breeze tousle them.
Xu Fusheng was no exception today. She wore a flowing, wide-sleeved, cross-collared gown, and, on a whim, chose a rarely worn moon-white dress. Pale pink peach blossoms fluttered down, landing on her spread-out skirt, soon forming an elegant little scene.
She hadn’t dressed up deliberately, merely pinning her silvery hair, smooth as silk, into a simple updo with a wooden hairpin, revealing a slender neck. The delicate veins beneath her fine skin were faintly visible, like the lightest stroke in a meticulous ink painting. Her half-lowered eyelids fluttered slightly, obscuring the ruby-red eyes that shimmered like rippling water.
The Eldest Prince, seated beside her with his wife, turned his head during their cheerful conversation. His gaze lingered briefly on her delicate profile before he quickly turned away, pretending it was unintentional.
The Omega beside him seemed to sense something, glancing at him before casting a sidelong look at Xu Fusheng.
Liang Ankai chuckled as if amused by someone’s jest, using his wide robe as cover to gently take his wife’s hand in reassurance. He fell silent, simply smiling as he watched the others chat.
Xu Fusheng pretended not to notice, resting her forearm on the low table, propping her cheek with one hand while lazily holding an enamel wine cup in the other. Her relaxed, idle posture conveniently blocked the view from beside her.
No one noticed this small undercurrent, and the atmosphere remained lively. Those who lingered long in the court were all sharp and quick-witted, trading topics back and forth with ease, their laughter growing louder.
Until a sharp, childish giggle pierced through.
The conversation paused, and all eyes turned toward the sound.
There stood the star of the banquet, Jiang Ciqing, dressed in the same red robe with golden kylin embroidery from the morning, standing beneath a peach tree. Her raised chin was sharp and graceful, her high ponytail swaying in the breeze. The person who had been said to have matured in just a few months now exuded a youthful air, her bright black eyes reflecting the falling peach petals.
But the crowd’s attention wasn’t on her—it was on the little girl perched on her shoulders. The child, about five or six years old, was adorably delicate, with a lively charm. Her small feet in an apricot-colored horse-face skirt dangled playfully as she stretched out her hand to reach for the peach blossoms.
Her chubby fingers brushed against the petals but couldn’t quite grasp them, prompting the anxious little girl to urge, “Sister, Sister, lift me higher!”
Jiang Ciqing, initially worried the child might fall if she squirmed too much, had hoisted her onto her shoulders. But seeing she still couldn’t reach the desired blossom, she said in a low voice, “Don’t wiggle.”
Then, wrapping her hands around the girl’s waist, she lifted her higher with steady strength. Her wide sleeves slid down, revealing a slender, porcelain-white wrist adorned with a thin red cord, the faint blue veins beneath her skin standing out strikingly.
The little girl, startled by the height, covered her eyes with her hands, while the children gathered around gasped in surprise.
Pale pink petals fluttered down, shaken loose like a gentle rain.
A warm, clear laugh rang out, followed by a loud call: “Little one, hurry and grab that flower you wanted!”
The girl, now dazed, lowered her hands and realized she was higher than the unreachable branch. Her eyes curved into delighted crescents as she plucked the flower.
“Sister, I got it!”
Jiang Ciqing responded softly, gently setting her down. Perhaps because she was dealing with a child, her tone was much softer than usual. Smiling, she said, “Are you satisfied now, little one? No more tears?”
Upon closer inspection, the girl’s eyes and nose were still red, as if she’d just had a good cry.
The child, shy under the gaze of her peers, recalled her earlier wailing and buried her face in Jiang Ciqing’s leg to hide.
The surrounding children burst into teasing laughter, the naughtier ones even circling around to make faces at her.
The little girl, clutching her peach blossom and stomping her feet in frustration, clung even tighter to Jiang Ciqing’s leg.
Jiang Ciqing laughed along, her usually cool and distant demeanor softening. Her brows relaxed, like a frozen lake thawed by the spring breeze. Compared to her usual polite smiles, her laughter now was far more genuine and carefree.
“No laughing!” the indignant little girl glared up at her, her voice carrying a fierce yet adorable edge.
Jiang Ciqing couldn’t help but pat her head, her smile softening though amusement still sparkled in her eyes. She coaxed gently, “Alright, alright, no more laughing. You got the flower you wanted—still mad?”
The girl huffed, her cheeks puffed out, already showing a hint of playful petulance despite her young age. She clung tightly to Jiang Ciqing’s leg, glaring at the other children until they stopped laughing.
“You’re quite the fierce little thing, aren’t you?” Jiang Ciqing teased lightly, not stopping her but indulging the child’s attempt to assert herself using her as a shield.
She thought to herself that children were indeed strange—ignoring the petals scattered on the ground, fixated on the highest blossom on the branch, crying when they couldn’t reach it. Jiang Ciqing, hiding under the tree, had been driven half-mad by the noise and stepped in to help, only to find herself stuck with this clingy little rascal.
“Alright, little one, they’ve stopped laughing. Your turn to smile,” she said, bending slightly and sliding a knuckle down the girl’s nose, her tone indulgent.
The girl broke into a grin, her dimples deepening, exuding an innocent charm.
Drifting clouds veiled the crescent moon, the distant mountains reduced to faint outlines. Occasionally, the faint bark of dogs echoed from afar.
Xu Fusheng looked away, noticing the group had shifted topics and resumed their lively chatter.
A young Alpha remarked with a laugh, “The Prince of Huai’an seems to really like children.”
Someone nearby added, “I recall the Prince of Huai’an has always been kind to kids—much gentler and more patient than with adults.”
A confidant of the Fifth Prince suddenly chuckled, teasing, “Maybe the Prince of Huai’an prefers them young.”
The surrounding crowd, all differentiated adults, understood the implication and burst into laughter.
The Fifth Prince joined in, chuckling, “That’s quite possible. I recall Miss Chu is a year younger than Ciqing, isn’t she? Petite and lively, very charming.”
He turned to the Eldest Prince, asking, “By the way, Brother, why isn’t Miss Chu here?”
Liang Ankai pursed his lips, unwilling to respond. His wife spoke up instead, smiling, “I heard she made some mistake and was confined to her home by Old Master Chu.”
Seeing the Eldest Prince ignore him, Liang Anmu’s smile faded slightly. He replied coolly, “Is that so? That’s a pity.”
As the mood threatened to cool, the Third Princess laughed and chimed in, “At the last autumn hunting ball, Ciqing and Miss Chu were so close—surely wedding bells are near?”
Someone quick-witted picked up, “I’ve never seen the Prince of Huai’an so close to any Omega except Miss Chu. I’d say it’s almost certain—soon!”
“Who knows what Old Master Chu was thinking? The Emperor himself arranged this banquet for the Prince of Huai’an, and he locks his granddaughter at home.”
“Exactly! I bet the Prince’s low spirits today are because Miss Chu isn’t here.”
The atmosphere grew lively again as everyone chimed in.
Xu Fusheng remained silent, lowering her head to sip her wine.
She vaguely recalled being three years older than Jiang Ciqing.
Liking those younger than her?
She tugged at the corner of her mouth, catching snippets of conversation nearby.
Something had happened—now the little girl was clinging to Jiang Ciqing’s wrist, looking up at her with pleading eyes.
Jiang Ciqing was a soft touch for such gestures. If someone tried to force her, she’d shut them down coldly. But who could resist a cute child’s teary pleas, tugging at your hand?
Her tone softened further as she explained gently, “This red cord was a gift to me. I can’t give it to you.”
Xu Fusheng’s hand trembled, amber wine splashing out, wetting her fingertips.
The girl’s lips quivered, her round eyes brimming with tears again.
Why was she crying again?
Jiang Ciqing, inexperienced with children, was at a loss. Squatting to the girl’s level, she laughed helplessly, “What’s with you, little crybaby? Always tearing up.”
Looking herself over, she realized she hadn’t brought much today. The red cord on her wrist and the ring on her pinky weren’t hers to give. The Hetian jade pendant at her waist seemed suitable, so she unhooked the cloud-patterned clasp and tied it to the girl’s waist.
She muttered with a wry smile, “You’ve got me beat, kid. I’m out here working and spending—total loss.”
The girl blinked, tears sliding down her cheeks. But when she looked up, her eyes sparkled with mischief, no trace of sadness left.
“Little trickster,” Jiang Ciqing said, straightening the girl’s clothes. She could see through the child’s ploy but indulged her anyway.
“Hey…” The girl stepped forward, giggling, and tucked the peach blossom she’d picked behind Jiang Ciqing’s ear, saying in her sweet, childish voice, “This is my return gift.”
Jiang Ciqing raised an eyebrow. Her features, sharper and more defined than most women’s, carried a neutral elegance. The peach blossom at her temple didn’t look out of place—it softened her edges, adding a touch of delicate allure.
She didn’t remove it. There was no need to embarrass the child, and in Nanliang, there was an old custom of gentlemen wearing flowers in their hair to celebrate spring’s arrival. It was just a bit early in the season—nothing significant.
The girl clapped her hands, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “There! We’ve exchanged tokens now.”
Jiang Ciqing froze, not quite catching her meaning, but the girl continued, puffing out her cheeks and declaring solemnly, “You have to wait for me to grow up.”
“What?” Jiang Ciqing was even more confused.
“A betrothal token! You have to wait for me to grow up and differentiate as an Omega.”
What in the world?
Jiang Ciqing hadn’t expected her casual gesture—effort, a jade pendant, and now her person—to lead to this. She laughed helplessly, “How’s this a betrothal? Do you even know my name? You don’t know anything and you’re proposing to me?”
The girl replied matter-of-factly, “Jiang Ciqing. I heard someone call you that, and they said you’re an Alpha.”
“Well, I don’t know your name.”
“Qin Yun’er. You can call me Yun’er,” the girl said, tugging at her sleeve, her soft voice tinged with a lingering babyish charm, every word sounding like a playful plea.
Jiang Ciqing couldn’t bring herself to refuse outright. Teasingly, she said, “How many people have you said this to, Yun’er? You sound awfully practiced.”
The girl put on a serious face, “Only to you! I’m very loyal. My mama says you only get one wife in life.”
“Oh?” Jiang Ciqing drawled, nodding, then continued, “What about that boy who was holding your hand earlier?”
“I’ve already divorced him!” the girl declared boldly. “From now on, you’re my only fiancée.”
Jiang Ciqing doubled over laughing, pinching the girl’s chubby cheeks. “You little heartbreaker.”
Her playful scolding carried no real anger, drifting over to where Xu Fusheng sat. She lowered her eyes, unsure what kind of wine this was—it stung her hand. The night breeze lifted her loose hair, dispersing the scent of agave at her neck.
In a secluded, winding path, Jiang Ciqing walked along the cobblestones, her steps light, a trace of her earlier smile lingering.
She hadn’t expected much from this banquet. Liang Ji, playing the role of a benevolent elder, had feigned anger to coax her into attending, though it left her inwardly irritated.
Yet, she hadn’t anticipated meeting such an amusing child, using every obvious trick to cling to her, insisting on “going home” with her. Jiang Ciqing had laughed, cajoled, and finally returned the girl to her mother.
She recalled the child’s background—her father was a low-ranking, idle scholar-official who’d gotten a rare chance to attend the banquet, bringing his wife and daughter to see the world. A clean family, unremarkable in the Emperor’s eyes. If she had the chance later, she might visit that spirited little girl.
Thinking of the child’s earnest promises about the future, Jiang Ciqing couldn’t help but smile.
Until someone stepped out from the shadows, the hem of a white dress fluttering with her steps, carrying the distinct, rich scent of agave.
Jiang Ciqing’s steps halted, her smile vanishing. Her cold eyes narrowed, and the air grew heavy and oppressive.
The other person ignored her icy demeanor, stepping forward and closing the distance.
Jiang Ciqing retreated a step without hesitation, avoiding the approaching figure.
Xu Fusheng took another step forward.
Jiang Ciqing retreated again, her brows knitting tightly as if avoiding something unclean, unwilling to let even their clothes brush.
Xu Fusheng advanced again.
Jiang Ciqing kept retreating.
The uneven cobblestones tripped her slightly, but her steps didn’t slow. Surrounded by peach trees, she didn’t look back, sidestepping as if she’d anticipated it.
How could Xu Fusheng let her escape? Done playing this chase, she grabbed Jiang Ciqing’s wrist and slammed her against a peach tree.
Crash!
The slender tree shook, branches rustling, and petals rained down in a brief, dazzling storm.
Neither paid attention to the scene. Jiang Ciqing raised a hand to push her away, but Xu Fusheng was faster, seizing her other wrist and pinning it above her head.
Jiang Ciqing’s expression grew colder, and she raised a knee to strike. Xu Fusheng didn’t let go, dodging and mirroring the move, pressing her knee hard against the inner thigh—a spot often overlooked but excruciating when targeted.
Jiang Ciqing struggled, grunting in pain.
Xu Fusheng raised an eyebrow, not only refusing to ease up but pressing harder.
Sweat beaded on Jiang Ciqing’s forehead, but she refused to show weakness, clenching her jaw and enduring the pain, her eyes icy.
Xu Fusheng’s lips curled, petals falling onto her hair and lashes. Her shimmering eyes watched Jiang Ciqing with interest, like a red-eyed Persian cat toying with a mouse.
The wrist pinned against the rough bark was slender, the red cord twisted, fingers curling slightly, pale even in the dark.
In a good mood, Xu Fusheng leaned in softly, her voice teasing, “This palace hasn’t yet congratulated Lord Huai’an on your title. What gift would you like? I’ll have it prepared.”
Her cool body warmth seeped through their clothes.
Jiang Ciqing remained unmoved, muscles taut, standing rigid against the tree. Her jawline was sharp as a blade, and she spat out coldly, “No need for Your Highness to trouble yourself. Aside from forging blades, I have no interest in anything.”
In the distance, drunken laughter grew louder, raucous in the night.
The position was taxing—her raised arm and awkwardly lifted leg strained her endurance.
Xu Fusheng’s gaze flickered to the peach blossom in her hair, tapping it lightly before smiling. “True, with so many Omegas vying to shower you with gifts, why would you care for mine?”
Jiang Ciqing frowned, snapping, “Mind your words, Your Highness. Don’t speak so ambiguously.”
Pausing, she warned coldly, “If others overheard and mistook us for having some unclear relationship, wouldn’t that be troublesome?”
As her words fell, the crescent moon emerged from the clouds.
Xu Fusheng didn’t anger but laughed softly, leaning closer until her breath grazed Jiang Ciqing’s ear. Playfully, she said, “Mistake what? I thought we already had an unclear relationship.”
She continued, “I recall Lord Huai’an hasn’t answered me yet. Lovers? Or bedmates to ease your ruts?”
“Nothing!” Jiang Ciqing cut her off, pausing before turning her head to dodge the approaching lips, her eyes filled with clear resistance. She warned coldly, “Please conduct yourself with dignity, Your Highness.”
“What, now that you have two new sweethearts, you’re afraid to get close to me? Worried someone will get jealous?” Xu Fusheng’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, her tone carrying a threat. As an S-class Omega, used to being pampered and indulged, she loathed being defied.
When Jiang Ciqing dodged, she pressed closer, her warm breath lingering at her ear. Her elbow “accidentally” brushed the peach blossom, knocking it to the ground.
Her gaze dropped, satisfied only when the flower mingled indistinguishably with the others.
“Please stop spouting nonsense, Your Highness.” Jiang Ciqing said, her frown deepening, turning back with a cold expression, stepping back to draw a clear line. “There is nothing between us.”
That was Jiang Ciqing—aloof yet passionate. If she cared for you, she’d indulge you endlessly, always keeping you in her thoughts. But if she saw you as a stranger, she’d wear a polite mask, pushing you away with distance. If more resistant, she’d draw a firm boundary, staying far away to avoid trouble.
Xu Fusheng froze, her gaze wavering like shattered moonlight.
Footsteps rustled faintly in the distance.
Jiang Ciqing’s eyes narrowed. Seizing the moment of distraction, she shoved Xu Fusheng away, ignoring the pain.
The white dress flared, and Xu Fusheng stumbled back, her loose hair falling further in the breeze. Even in disarray, her beauty carried a fragile charm.
Stunned, Xu Fusheng didn’t resist, standing still.
The Alpha didn’t care what she was thinking. She quickly smoothed her robe, brushed off the petals, and bent to pick up the fallen peach blossom, carefully blowing off the dust before tucking it into her chest.
To an outsider, one might wonder if this was a mere flower or a treasure, so carefully did the Prince of Huai’an treat it.
As the footsteps grew clearer, Jiang Ciqing strode off without hesitation, leaving the path behind.
Xu Fusheng turned, watching her slender figure, her high ponytail swaying, her spine straight like young bamboo—unyielding, impossible to break.
Under the peach tree, Xu Fusheng stood dazed, petals falling onto her skirt. The moonlight remained cold and pure, draping her shoulders like silver gauze.
The night deepened, the air growing colder. The petal-strewn lawn was coated in silvery frost, exuding a biting chill.