Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 51

51

The sudden clap of thunder shattered the silence in the room. Purple lightning streaked across the sky, rooting itself like tree roots in the clouds. White light illuminated the dim room, and the sky, tired of the endless drizzle, unleashed a torrential downpour.

Perhaps it was healing—her shoulder wound itched incessantly, as if a thousand ants were crawling across it.

Xu Fusheng couldn’t help but want to scratch, but the person beside her sensed her intention. Their fingers tightened, pulling her closer.

Beads of sweat burst under the pressure, turning into sticky glue that bound them tightly together.

To distract herself from the maddening sensation, Xu Fusheng tried to focus on something else—perhaps the “tomorrow night” agreement Jiang Ciqing had proposed.

It wasn’t that she was deliberately avoiding it, but talking about it inevitably dragged up too much: the upheaval of her childhood, the experiences of her escape, the tedious and lengthy stories of surviving in the barbaric lands, and her memories of Jiang Ciqing.

These weren’t things she could explain in a short time. Many memories were even blurry to her, so how could she recount them clearly to someone else?

Jiang Ciqing held her, not pressing, just quietly waiting.

Thus, Xu Fusheng remained silent for a long while before speaking slowly, her voice mingling with the occasional thunder, as lonely as the rain tonight.

Her childhood memories were like yellowed, damp pages of a book, filled with oppressive gloom. The seemingly prestigious Chuxiang Prince’s Mansion was, in reality, feared and restricted by the emperor.

Even now, Xu Fusheng could recall her father’s face, full of unfulfilled talent, unable to be expressed. He was clearly sober and rational, yet he had to feign drunkenness and dejection every day.

Back then, Xu Fusheng didn’t understand. She only knew that her father was disagreeable when drunk—either wailing and making a scene or vomiting and passing out. So, she often hid his wine jars, hoping he’d stay sober to write, read, or play the flute for her.

Looking back, Xu Fusheng realized how spoiled and willful she had been. No wonder her mother always scolded her. But her father doted on her endlessly, never angry, always indulging her whims, carrying her on his shoulders and calling her his “darling daughter.”

She was anything but darling.

If sparing Jiang Ciqing was due to her familiar black hair and black eyes, what drew Xu Fusheng to her was the temperament reminiscent of her father.

Though their features were entirely different, both shared a similar melancholy, cloaking themselves in a gentle, courteous shell while exuding an underlying, suppressed despondency. They were like weary souls who had tasted all the world’s bitter wines, living without hope yet forcing themselves to endure in this world.

Only when playing the flute did they dare reveal a hint of unrestrained wildness, like licking sugar off a blade—wounded yet willingly savoring it, clinging to their last breath.

Xu Fusheng had learned from them the cruel jest of fate: to grant someone boundless talent but no room to wield it, to break their spine and extinguish their hope, then watch them live on like walking corpses.

Perhaps such torment made for a more interesting story.

But Xu Fusheng never imagined that, despite her father’s state, the Chuxiang Prince’s Mansion could not escape its fate of being slaughtered.

Oil was poured, fires were set, and the emperor’s trained assassins moved with practiced ease. A flash of silver, a falling blade, and another body collapsed.

The nanny who raised her, the maid who taught her to weave flower ropes, the always-smiling guard who lifted her high—all fell, their lifeless eyes filled with unwillingness.

Her parents shielded her in their arms. Her father, as always, indulged her, even in such a moment, covering her eyes with his robe and whispering, “Darling, don’t look. It’s just a dream. You’ll wake soon. Don’t be afraid.”

But she knew all too well, her hand gripping his sleeve so tightly it left crescent-shaped marks in her palm.

Until the chaos outside abruptly stopped, and someone burst through the door.

Xu Fusheng closed her eyes in terror, thinking her end had come. But her father let out a sigh of relief, his tone familiar and warm, like greeting a long-lost friend: “You’ve finally come.”

“It happened so suddenly…” The voice was clear and steady, like a spring striking stone, but her father interrupted before they could finish.

“I know,” her father said calmly. “Who could’ve predicted Liang Ji would strike so suddenly?”

Xu Fusheng peeked out and saw a hundred black-clad guards, their faces and forms concealed, bl00d dripping from their sharp blades. The leader had rare black eyes, calm and unshaken even in such chaos, as if nothing could move her.

Xu Fusheng tilted her head, thinking. Despite her excellent memory, she had no recollection of this person her father knew so well.

No one spoke. The sounds of shouting and crackling flames were blocked outside, leaving only their conversation and rapid breathing in the room.

“Take Fusheng and go,” her father said.

“And what about you?” The person stepped forward, their voice urgent.

“If Liang Ji doesn’t see my body with his own eyes, he won’t rest. As for Fusheng… there’s a dead maid in the mansion of similar age. If her face is disfigured, Liang Ji won’t care about a child.”

The person refused to yield, their voice cold. “Then we’ll do the same—find a body that looks similar…”

“Liang Ji isn’t a fool.”

“I can’t just watch you die here.”

Xu Fusheng looked up at her father, her pleading eyes begging him to agree with this person.

“Even if we escape, Liang Ji will never stop hunting us. Where could we hide? The other two kingdoms? They’d love nothing more than for the so-called ‘legitimate former dynasty’ to vanish, making their own positions more secure.”

Xu Fusheng had never seen her father speak like this, his face—similar to hers yet far more pale and desolate—etched with the resignation of one who had seen the truth.

He gave a bitter smile and continued, “Don’t tell me about your back mountains, or I’ll laugh at you.”

The person gripped their sword hilt tighter, their rigid spine suddenly slumping.

They were both clever, having foreseen this moment when the chaos began. But she was unwilling to give up, while the one facing death accepted it with clarity.

“Enough. I don’t need to see under your mask to know you’re making that sour face of yours. If Fusheng can live, I’m already content,” he said, waving a hand. His feigned ease faded, replaced by heaviness as he gripped his wife’s hand.

Xu Fusheng felt his trembling clearly and clutched his sleeve, as she had when begging for sweets as a child, ready to plead with her spoiled stubbornness.

But he pulled her hand away, his voice firm: “Father knows you’re smart. This time, you can’t be willful. Go with them obediently.”

Her young eyes, still brimming with innocence, glistened with tears. She wanted to beg him to come with her, but he said, “No crying. No nonsense. You must live well.”

It was the first time her father had spoken to her so sternly.

And so, the unusually precocious child stifled her sobs.

—Boom!

Purple lightning flooded the confined space. The Omega’s unconscious grip was like a painful punishment, nearly crushing the other’s finger bones.

Jiang Ciqing neither stopped her nor made a sound, as if she weren’t the one in pain. Instead, she held Xu Fusheng’s hand tighter, her palm resting on the slender, soft waist that seemed as fragile as a flower stem, carefully pulling her closer.

The rain poured harder, pounding down relentlessly. Who knew how many flowers would be ruined tonight? Jiang Ciqing didn’t care—her only concern was the one in her arms.

A cool dampness touched her shoulder. Jiang Ciqing pretended not to notice, only patting Xu Fusheng’s back gently in comfort.

Until Xu Fusheng broke free from the torment of her memories, burying that page deep in time.

They both understood: some wounds don’t become badges of honor or tales for drunken nights. They only tear open and fester in the dead of night, reminding you that you remain the powerless, helpless weakling you always were.

They huddled on a wide, intricately carved wooden bed. Despite the vast space behind them, they clung to a cramped corner, like two wounded beasts licking each other’s wounds for comfort.

Realizing she’d gripped too hard, the Omega hurriedly loosened her hold, but Jiang Ciqing caught her hand, holding it firmly in her palm.

The tongue-tied Alpha didn’t know sweet words, only expressing her presence in this way.

“A’Ci…” Xu Fusheng murmured softly, without particular meaning, just feeling the urge to call her name.

“Xu Fusheng,” Jiang Ciqing replied, her voice gentle, calling her name with deliberate care, syllable by syllable.

And so, the endlessly falling Xu Fusheng felt caught by a steady net.

The rest of her story was brief, summed up in a few words: she was carried away by the black-clad person, protected by others as they fled the capital.

That person said they couldn’t leave the capital for long, that Xu Fusheng’s silver hair and red eyes made her a glaring target. The other two kingdoms wouldn’t accept her, so they sent guards to escort her to the barbaric lands, protecting her as she grew.

Trying to distract her from the memories, Jiang Ciqing interjected with a puzzled tone, “The black-haired, black-eyed person you mentioned—was that her?”

Xu Fusheng nodded, explaining, “When she carried me away, I glimpsed a few strands of black hair.”

“Nanliang… black hair, black eyes…” Jiang Ciqing frowned.

Black hair and black eyes weren’t common in Nanliang. And Xu Fusheng said this person led only a hundred guards to break through the royal assassins’ encirclement and save her, indicating immense strength—not some ragtag group, but likely a family with deep roots. As far as Jiang Ciqing knew, the only noble family in Nanliang with such power and black hair and eyes was her own Jiang family…

The truth dawned on her, and she exclaimed in shock, “Was it Mother?!”

No wonder her mother was so familiar with this matter.

Jiang Ciqing suddenly understood, her thoughts racing further. The Jiang and Li families had stayed hidden all these years, clearly familiar with the Chuxiang Prince yet deliberately keeping their distance…

She blinked, looking down at Xu Fusheng.

Her beautiful peach-blossom eyes were tinged with red, veiled with the mist of the rain outside, like a fragile petal adrift in it.

And so, the little dog gently caught that petal. Her trembling lashes made Jiang Ciqing even more cautious, trying to shield her from this violent, unending rain.

The Omega’s slightly raised chin finally stopped pretending to be strong, accepting the gentle comfort.

The memories that followed were less painful, recounted in a calm tone.

Their early days in the barbaric lands were far from smooth. They underestimated its dangers. Back then, the barbaric lands were far less stable than after Xu Fusheng’s rule. Outlaws formed groups, carving up the scarce safe zones.

Xu Fusheng’s group, with their refined equipment, was like a herd of fat sheep entering a wolf pack. Theft, robbery, and all manner of vile tactics came at them relentlessly.

Neither Nanliang, Dongxia, nor the Jiang and Li families could intervene here, and contact was cut off. Xu Fusheng’s group fought alone.

Inevitably, they lost many people, but it forced the sheltered child to grow up fast, learning to exploit the conflicts between factions to protect her group.

They rested briefly for a few years, even seizing a safe territory, becoming a notable force in the barbaric lands—at least no longer prey for all.

Until Xu Fusheng differentiated into a top-tier Omega. Who could resist the allure of a top-tier Omega? Conflicts reignited, escalating into the largest battle the barbaric lands had ever seen.

Even Xu Fusheng’s group, strengthened over years, was but a drifting leaf in this chaos. She even prepared to offer herself to the strongest Alpha to protect the others.

But no one expected the conflict to trigger a beast tide. The so-called powerful factions crumbled, swept away in the indiscriminate slaughter. None of Xu Fusheng’s guards survived, and even the borders of the three kingdoms were affected, making it harder for them to interfere in the barbaric lands later.

This catastrophe left Xu Fusheng utterly alone but also crowned her the Queen of the Barbaric Lands.

Her final words were drowned by the rain, and the room fell silent, save for their heavy breathing.

The quilt was pulled up, but the spring chill seeped through the gaps until the cramped space was warmed again.

Jiang Ciqing had many questions but was tongue-tied, afraid of upsetting Xu Fusheng further or unsure where to begin.

She opened her mouth and finally asked the most pressing question: “When did you realize that person was my mother? Did they tell you?”

Having decided to tell all, Xu Fusheng was candid. “No. Father told them that if I differentiated into an Omega, they should let me live anonymously, and there was no need to bring up the past.”

“Later… even when I had the power to seek revenge, they couldn’t tell me anymore.”

No wonder her mother felt safe letting Jiang Ciqing go to the barbaric lands alone, hiding the past to avoid using it to pressure Xu Fusheng. With the Jiang family’s guards, Jiang Ciqing would be safe, even unmarked. But her mother hadn’t expected them all to perish…

Jiang Ciqing fell silent, recalling the weathered face in the mountains, and said, “Changjie misses his father.”

Xu Fusheng’s voice was heavy. “After this, I’ll arrange for them to be buried in their homeland.”

“Good.” Jiang Ciqing replied, without much sorrow. Perhaps due to the Jiang family’s teachings, she had taken up their mantle, ready to die for them at any time, just as others were willing to sacrifice for the Jiang family.

They had long prepared for the lack of news from those sent out. Now, the focus was on compensating the surviving bloodlines.

“When did you recognize me?” Jiang Ciqing asked, frowning in confusion, not understanding why Xu Fusheng knew but didn’t explain.

At this, Xu Fusheng grew slightly guilty, her gaze flickering before she said, “I wasn’t sure at first, just had suspicions. After submitting to Nanliang, I kept investigating until I was certain.”

Jiang Ciqing knew the matter was delicate and didn’t press, only saying, “And you still bullied me…”

Xu Fusheng laughed, her watery peach-blossom eyes glinting with a hint of menace, though her tone remained gentle: “Jiang Ciqing, I thought you knew what happens to those who betray me.”

She knew, of course. Xu Fusheng couldn’t tolerate traitors, and Jiang Ciqing was the only one still alive.

Feeling guilty, Jiang Ciqing swallowed and gave a sheepish smile. “I… I had my reasons.”

Xu Fusheng raised an eyebrow. When she first learned of Jiang Ciqing’s whereabouts, she had considered capturing her and exacting brutal revenge. But upon discovering Jiang Ciqing’s connection to the black-clad person, she only tested her a few times after entering Nanliang. Jiang Ciqing pretended not to know her and acted stubbornly…

As an Omega used to being adored, how could Xu Fusheng not be furious? Jiang Ciqing had tricked her into marking her, then vanished for three years, and now acted cold and distant. Xu Fusheng gritted her teeth, nearly driven mad by her.

When she finally confirmed Jiang Ciqing’s identity, she worried the Jiang family was no longer the same.

Jiang Ciqing had hidden herself too well: the few guards during the assassination attempt, her frequent feigned illnesses, her pretense of incompetence during the autumn hunt, and her staged affection with Liang Ji. All these made Xu Fusheng wonder if the Jiang family had abandoned the past, choosing to retreat to Zhushan and serve the royal family.

Later, Xu Fusheng distanced herself from Jiang Ciqing, both resenting the Jiang family for forgetting the Chuxiang Prince’s Mansion and wanting to honor Jiang Ciqing’s wish to cut ties, sparing the Jiang family from further involvement.

But Xu Fusheng overestimated her own detachment. Despite Jiang Ciqing’s coldness, she couldn’t help drawing closer, until that moment in the alley when Jiang Ciqing mentioned the past. Xu Fusheng was both panicked and overjoyed to learn the Jiang family hadn’t abandoned the cause—Jiang Ciqing simply knew only fragments of it, leading to what followed.

“A’Ci…” Xu Fusheng called with a half-smile.

Jiang Ciqing sensed danger, blinking and inching back. “W-What?”

“How did I not know you were so good at pretending?” Her familiar, lilting tone rose at the end, almost like praise.

Jiang Ciqing grew even more timid, her voice weak. “I… I didn’t know the full story. You never asked.”

“How was I supposed to ask? Hm?”

“Well… I’d have told you clearly.” Jiang Ciqing said, her brows drooping as she tried to defend herself.

Xu Fusheng gave a cold laugh, suddenly recalling how, days ago, she tried to visit Jiang Ciqing in Zhushan but was blocked by a group of people…

“Your Jiang family guards are quite efficient, aren’t they?”

To spare Jiang Ciqing worry, the Jiang guards had kept the interception secret. Now, the oblivious puppy didn’t know why Xu Fusheng was suddenly praising them but sensed it wasn’t good. She stammered, “They’re… alright, I guess.”

Alright, huh…

Xu Fusheng ground her sharp canines, then leaned down and bit Jiang Ciqing’s protruding collarbone in one swift motion.

A bolt of purple lightning crashed down, and Jiang Ciqing let out a pitiful cry: “Ow, ow, ow! Stop biting! I was wrong!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Her tearful pleas were drowned in the rain. The guard outside glanced toward the room, then turned back with an unreadable expression.

As expected of our master—even injured, she’s still so formidable.