Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 43

43

Last night, a heavy rain fell, and the lingering spring chill made a sudden comeback. Cherry blossoms scattered across the mountain, and the stone steps held puddles of water, reflecting a cloudless, clear blue sky.

Inside the gray-tiled, white-walled temple, covered in patches of mold, stood a clay Buddha statue. Due to the general lack of faith in Nanliang, offerings were pitifully scarce. The monks in the temple were all gaunt and emaciated, surviving only on the blessings of the 50,000 souls lost in last year’s war and the cherry blossoms now blanketing the mountain. This allowed a handful of visitors to make the trek up the mountain each day.

“Ciqing…”

The silver-haired woman in an apricot-white qipao turned her gaze at the sound of her name. Her strikingly alluring eyes, tinged with cherry blossom pink, rivaled the vibrant blooms covering the mountain. Standing there with a carefree smile, she drew the attention of every Alpha, who, despite the Buddhist chants in their ears, couldn’t help stealing glances at her.

“Lord Liu…”

Xu Fusheng’s gaze drifted away, perhaps bored by these mundane people who didn’t know how to appreciate the flowers. They came to this place yet still engaged in mutual probing and pretense, dragging their trivial matters before the cherry blossoms.

The muddy ground, soaked by rain, was inevitably slippery, but with fallen petals mixed in and trampled by boots, it carried a fresh scent—a blend of mud and cherry blossom fragrance.

Tilting her head in thought, Xu Fusheng realized the only thing missing was the sound of Jiang Ciqing’s shakuhachi flute.

Unfortunately, Jiang Ciqing was still chatting idly with Liang Anchen. Perhaps due to past events that sparked a strong sense of crisis in her, Liang Anchen clung to Jiang Ciqing the moment she saw her. From the moment they started climbing the mountain to entering the cherry blossom grove, her mouth never stopped.

Even Jiang Ciqing, a woman of few words, was forced to talk the entire way, her voice growing slightly hoarse.

“Ciqing…” Another call came, this time marveling at the mountain scenery. An outsider might think it was some Omega trying to flirt with her beloved, awkwardly fishing for conversation. Fortunately, the Third Princess was better than those shy, fumbling girls—at least her words weren’t hard to respond to.

Xu Fusheng frowned slightly, looking down at the fallen cherry blossoms. A perfectly intact petal lay before her, glistening with water droplets, making it appear even more delicate. A strand of hair slipped from her loosely tied low bun.

An Alpha standing nearby thought she was lamenting the fallen flower and hurriedly stepped forward to pick it up, offering it to her with both hands.

Perhaps with the intention of matchmaking, Liang Anchen had invited a group of young, handsome, and elite Alphas from prominent families to join them. Jiang Ciqing hadn’t had a moment’s peace the entire journey, and Xu Fusheng wasn’t faring much better, having to deal with even more suitors than her companion.

She didn’t take the flower, instead raising her round fan to cover half her face and chuckling softly. It was an ordinary gesture, yet it was utterly captivating.

The young nobleman, accustomed to seeing beautiful people, flushed red and stammered, “I… I was too forward… I saw Your Highness staring at the flower, so I thought… I forgot it had mud on it.”

In his panic, his words came out jumbled, as if his tongue had been stung by a bee.

Xu Fusheng didn’t mind, still smiling warmly. Her peripheral vision unintentionally caught a glimpse of a slender figure. The two women had somehow moved on to a new topic without a moment’s pause, and Xu Fusheng’s smile faded slightly.

The young nobleman, thinking she was annoyed, immediately rolled up his sleeves, intending to climb a cherry blossom tree to pick the cleanest flower from its branches for her.

Xu Fusheng only smiled, neither encouraging nor stopping him. Her upturned eyes were like silver hooks, tugging at the heartstrings of those around her.

Sure enough, the others nearby were drawn back to her, and the Third Princess teased her younger sister with a laugh.

Jiang Ciqing, meanwhile, looked away, tilting her head to gaze at the cherry blossom trees.

She wasn’t surprised by the nobleman’s uncharacteristic behavior, unbecoming of his family’s dignity. Xu Fusheng always had that bewitching charm—making refined young masters bend to pick flowers for her, willingly climb trees at their own risk, or even causing the usually cold and detached to weave dreams of a false future.

Xu Fusheng was likely a seductress born to ensnare others, seemingly affectionate yet truly heartless.

The young woman tilted her head to the sky, her sharp jawline clear and striking. Her clear eyes held a childish stubbornness, and her green robe swayed in the wind.

Not far off, the commotion continued. The people under the tree laughed and directed, “Qi Shang! Over there! That one’s pretty!”

“I think the one at the top on the left is stunning—perfectly shaped and glistening with dew.”

“No, no, look at the two flowers stuck together in the middle. Don’t they have the charm of twin lotuses? That’s the most unique.”

“Cherry blossoms are already clustered together. What’s so special about two stuck together? Better to pick the branch at the very top…”

Qi Shang, standing on the century-old cherry blossom tree, found all their suggestions reasonable. He reached left, glanced right, and hesitated for a long time before finally gritting his teeth and reaching for the highest branch…

—Thud!

“Qi Shang!”

His boot slipped on the moss in a crevice of the bark, and he fell. The crowd didn’t react in time to catch him, and he crashed into the mud, splashing water and staining his white clothes with dirt.

Jiang Ciqing turned back, startled.

The group froze for a moment before rushing forward to help him up.

But Qi Shang’s face crumpled as he shouted, “Ow, ow, ow! Don’t pull me up yet!”

The person grabbing his hand quickly let go and even stepped back.

Qi Shang lay on the ground, his face contorted in pain, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as if enduring immense agony.

The crowd’s expressions grew more serious, their fists clenched, but none dared to approach again.

Qi Shang was the youngest and most cherished son of the current Minister of Justice. If anything happened to him in their presence, even though his father, aligned with the Third Princess, wouldn’t openly retaliate, their families would surely face consequences for appearances’ sake.

“Qi Shang, rest a moment before moving. Did you injure a bone?” The Third Princess stepped forward, crouching down with a tone of anxious concern. He was, after all, the son of one of her key supporters. If something went wrong, it could strain her relationship with her allies.

“Hiss…” Qi Shang tried to move and sucked in a sharp breath.

The onlookers grew even more hesitant to touch him.

After a long pause, Qi Shang managed to shift slightly. The fall wasn’t from a great height, but his leg had landed on a sharp rock buried in the ground, causing excruciating pain.

With no mood left to admire the flowers, Liang Anchen sent someone to the nearby temple to borrow a stretcher. Several people carried Qi Shang to the temple.

Those who had been hovering around were distracted by other matters, and Jiang Ciqing finally got a moment to breathe. Unconcerned by the others’ worries—since she hadn’t been the one giving reckless instructions and the Minister of Justice couldn’t touch her—she was the most relaxed of the group, trailing behind slowly.

Her downcast eyes casually swept over the scene and landed on the slender ankle beneath the qipao. The delicate skin revealed faint veins.

Jiang Ciqing averted her gaze, her fingers curling as if she could still feel the round bone pressing into her palm, much like its cold, unyielding owner.

The temple’s abbot had some medical knowledge and, aware that these were influential figures he couldn’t afford to offend, hurriedly had Qi Shang carried to his room. After a thorough examination, he concluded that Qi Shang had a cracked shinbone.

Once the abbot applied herbal medicine, the Third Princess sent someone down the mountain to deliver a message. They would stay in the temple for the night and wait for Qi Shang to recover slightly before having servants carry him down the next day.

This news left the group disheartened but resigned. After all, their reckless instructions had led to Qi Shang’s injury.

These pampered nobles were unaccustomed to the temple’s hardships. The guest rooms were damp, moldy, and furnished only with creaky wooden beds. Even after the servants tidied them, they still reeked of poverty. Fortunately, the abbot mentioned a few natural hot springs in the back mountain, which eased their frustrations. They decided to endure the night for the sake of the cherry blossoms and hot springs.

When Xu Fusheng came to her senses and looked around, the green-robed figure was gone. Her brows furrowed slightly, and after a quick word to the Third Princess, she stepped outside alone.

—Dong!

A dull bell tolled in the distance. The red sun, previously perched on the treetops, was beginning to set. The already quiet temple grew even more desolate, filled with the scent of burning incense.

After asking a young monk, who said Jiang Ciqing had requested a cup of water and then headed to the main hall, Xu Fusheng had a general direction and walked unhurriedly toward it.

—Dong!

Another bell rang as Xu Fusheng ascended the stone steps. The half-open lattice door, riddled with insect holes, revealed the clay Buddha and a monk kneeling on a cushion inside. The person she’d been searching for stood nearby, incense smoke curling upward, blurring everything within. Though only a short distance separated them, it felt like another world.

Inside, the monk struck a wooden fish, the crisp yet steady sound resonating rhythmically. The green-robed figure stood still, her cool, distant eyes lowered, carrying an air of unexpected piety.

For some inexplicable reason, Xu Fusheng didn’t push the door open. Instead, she hid behind it, unconsciously gripping the wooden lattice.

In Nanliang, monks didn’t care about gender or secondary gender, believing all things to be empty. Most unmarked individuals, after growing disillusioned with the world, entered the Buddhist path. When their bodies were gripped by periodic heats, they refused suppressants and instead spent nights alone in their rooms, chanting sutras to reflect on their desires.

Xu Fusheng wasn’t particularly devout, but she couldn’t help feeling a trace of admiration. She knew how agonizing and difficult it was to resist one’s instincts during such times.

Inside, Jiang Ciqing showed no impatience, waiting quietly by the side.

Xu Fusheng’s brow furrowed, a hint of unease stirring in her heart.

When the final sutra ended, the monk spoke hoarsely about his past.

He had once been a wealthy young man in Nanliang, fortunate enough to differentiate as a low-grade Alpha. Though his aptitude was average, he was the only Alpha in his family in a century, so he was doted on endlessly, given everything he desired. Thankfully, this didn’t turn him into a spoiled wastrel.

The monk paused, looking up at the Buddha and clasping his hands to chant “Amitabha,” as if repenting for his reckless youth.

“…If I hadn’t met her, I might have simply followed the path laid out for me, inheriting the family business, with a wife and children, counting coins on an abacus every day,” he said with a bitter smile. Decades of studying Buddhism hadn’t fully eased the knot in his heart.

But fate is often cruel, and smooth paths are rare. The wealthy young man fell for a noblewoman, a doomed love. Thinking he could defy fate, the Alpha eloped with the Omega noblewoman to a poor, remote village. They married and marked each other in secret, believing they could be together forever. But reality wore them down, and the pampered noblewoman eventually couldn’t endure it and returned home.

“Marking?”

Jiang Ciqing repeated the word. This was why she had come to the hall. A young monk had mentioned that a senior monk here, unlike them, was an Alpha who had marked an Omega. For reasons unknown, the mark had somehow been undone, though it left his glands damaged, freeing him from the torment of heats for life.

He shook his head with a bitter smile. “I don’t know why it happened. When I returned home alone, unable to wait for her any longer, I found my parents had passed away, and the family’s wealth had been seized. With nothing left to tie me to the world, I came to the mountain and took refuge in the Buddha.”

“Then one day, the pheromone bond etched into my flesh and bl00d suddenly vanished. I thought…” He paused, skipping over the thought.

“I made a trip down the mountain and saw her. She had remarried and was living happily.”

As his words fell, the wooden fish sounded again, heavier than before, each strike like a question.

Jiang Ciqing’s brows lowered, her deep, lake-like eyes flickering with complex emotions.

She had come out of curiosity after hearing the story, not expecting to uncover such a past. Touching her nose, she still couldn’t make sense of it—how could a mark simply break?

She exhaled slowly and thanked the monk with a slight bow. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t find answers. After all, she relied on this mark to carry out her plans, and her curiosity was just a passing whim. It was the first time she’d heard of such a rare occurrence on the Imperial Star.

Seeing the monk chanting sutras as if in repentance, Jiang Ciqing softened her expression and left quietly. As she stepped out, she caught a faint whiff of wine and paused, instinctively looking to the side.

Xu Fusheng stood with her arms crossed, smiling brightly at her. She didn’t even bother hiding that she’d been eavesdropping, standing openly in Jiang Ciqing’s view.

The young woman froze, a flicker of guilt passing through her for no reason. Her cold tone softened as she said, “Why are you here?”

“What? Is the great Huai’an King the only one allowed to wander this vast place? Such authority,” Xu Fusheng teased with a playful smile.

Jiang Ciqing frowned immediately. “Go wherever you want.”

With that, she stepped over the threshold, intending to stride away.

“Is that so?” Xu Fusheng chuckled, shifting half a step to block her path.

The curve of her qipao brushed against Jiang Ciqing’s collar, and a flash of panic crossed the young woman’s delicate face. She stepped back quickly, her voice cold. “What does Your Highness mean by this?”

“Didn’t you say I could go wherever I wanted?” Xu Fusheng glanced up at her, her peach-blossom eyes shimmering with allure, enough to melt anyone else’s resolve.

Jiang Ciqing looked away and stepped to the side.

Xu Fusheng laughed and moved again.

Jiang Ciqing dodged, and Xu Fusheng followed.

The young woman’s jaw tightened, her eyes frosting over as she warned, “Please let me pass, Your Highness.”

“And if I refuse?” Xu Fusheng wasn’t annoyed, her mood seemingly bright. “What will you do, my lord?”

She was clearly taking advantage of Jiang Ciqing’s inability to do anything to her.

Jiang Ciqing’s brows knitted tightly, her spine straightening like unyielding bamboo. “I thought I’d made things clear with Your Highness.”

Xu Fusheng didn’t get angry, her voice still carrying that lilting, teasing tone as she countered, “And did I agree?”

What a shameless rogue!

Jiang Ciqing’s face darkened. “Please step aside, Your Highness.”

“I won’t—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Ciqing pushed her aside forcefully. The Alpha’s calloused fingers gripped the Omega’s shoulders, like an inescapable cage, pushing her to the side.

An Omega, so used to being adored, had never faced such humiliation. Especially when Jiang Ciqing quickly withdrew her hand and wiped it on her robe, as if she’d touched something filthy and feared contaminating herself.

“Your Highness can go wherever she pleases.”

Before the Omega could erupt in anger, Jiang Ciqing strode down the steps, leaving only a slender silhouette in her wake.

Xu Fusheng clenched her teeth.

Inside the hall, the sound of the wooden fish mingled with the chanting of sutras, uninterrupted. Outside, a gust of wind swept up fallen petals, swirling around the silver-haired woman’s slender ankles before reluctantly settling to the ground.