Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 39

The young Emperor looked haggard. He took a memorial presented by a minister, and his sallow face instantly went blank. “Sir Wei has defected to the Prince of Zhao?”

Before the minister could answer, terror filled his starkly defined eyes. His hand seemed to lose all strength, and the memorial slipped to the floor. “Is there a mistake? How could Sir Wei defect to the Prince of Zhao? What good would that do him?”

Having said this, as if he had found his anchor, he abruptly stood up and glared at the minister, muttering to himself or perhaps seeking agreement, “He already helped me ascend the throne. What could he want that he cannot have? Siding with the Prince of Zhao offers no greater benefit. Why would he do something so absurd?”

As he spoke, his voice grew fainter. The minister quickly nodded in agreement. “It is indeed incomprehensible. Sir Wei is a man so indifferent to fame and fortune that he would even give away the position of Chancellor. What could he possibly gain by assisting the Prince of Zhao?”

The minister showed a look of confusion, but it was clear this was not the time to dwell on it. “But Your Majesty, Sir Wei has indeed defected to the Prince of Zhao! After the Grand Princess Puyang’s passing, various regions under the Princes of Zhao and Jin have successively raised banners of rebellion, accusing Your Majesty of being unvirtuous and cruel for killing a senior relative. The urgent task at hand is to quell this rebellion!”

The minister spoke with righteous conviction and earnest persuasion, but the Emperor seemed to have lost his soul. He stared blankly and said, “Could it be that because of the Grand Princess’s death, Sir Wei has come to hate me…”

Never had a dream been so real.

The scenes in the dream were as if she were witnessing them in person; even the expressions on the dream figures’ faces were clearly visible before her. Puyang knew it was a dream, but she could not wake up, no matter how she tried.

The scene shifted rapidly.

On the city walls of Luoyang, Wei Xiu sat alone on the ramparts, dressed in a thin blue-green robe and holding a sword. Before her, banners lay fallen, and swords and arrows were scattered about. The city wall was pitch-black, the aftermath of a great fire. Faintly, the groans, screams, pain, and despair of countless people seemed to linger over the ramparts.

A general in armor strode to her side.

Puyang had never seen this man before. He was spattered with bl00d that had congealed from crimson to blackish-red, and even his face bore a scab of dried bl00d.

“Master Wei returns, Luoyang falls. Zhou Qi congratulates you, Sir, on avenging your great hatred!” The general spoke crisply, his words filled with reverence.

From the general’s words, it seemed Sir Wei’s wish for revenge had been fulfilled. Yet her expression was one of utter emptiness—no joy, no satisfaction. It was as if the very conviction that had kept her alive had been lost.

The general, worried, called out in a low voice, “Sir? We should enter the palace city now.”

Wei Xiu remained deaf to his words, as if she had heard nothing. She gazed ahead. The city of Luoyang had lost its former prosperity. Wounded soldiers were everywhere, and as far as the eye could see, there was only scorched earth. Who could have imagined that not long ago, this had been a paradise where the people lived and worked in peace?

She gazed into the distance, as if searching for something. After a moment, she finally gave up, her face showing remorse and reminiscence.

The general stayed by her side for a while, but he had urgent duties. After a moment, a soldier came to summon him away.

Wei Xiu was left alone. The cold wind billowed, filling and swelling her sleeves. Her usually neat hair was in disarray, and her entire being had lost its spirit, becoming withered like a person in their twilight years. Puyang’s heart ached to see it, but there was nothing she could do.

After a moment, Wei Xiu lowered her head and looked at the sword in her hands. She gripped the hilt with her right hand and slowly drew it. The blade’s edge was sharp, glinting with a cold, silvery light.

She murmured to herself, “My wish has been granted, yet I feel no joy. I have sought this my whole life, yet everything has come to naught. If only I had arrived a step sooner…”

Her words trailed off into choked sobs. A tear slid from her dry eyes and fell onto her lapel. She raised the sword, placed it against her neck, her expression as lifeless as death itself. She closed her eyes and murmured, “I will repay Your Highness with this life.”

The moment her voice fell, bl00d splattered across the ramparts.

A thick mist of bl00d filled the air, seeming to stain even Puyang’s pupils with Wei Xiu’s bl00d. The bl00d was scalding hot, but in a short while, it would grow cold as her life faded away.

Puyang’s eyes flew wide with terror. A desperate scream was caught in her throat. She forgot it was only a dream. The moment the sword cut into Sir Wei’s neck, the sky seemed to press down, dark and heavy. She felt as if her very soul would shatter with that single stroke. She tried desperately to scream.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” A soft, anxious voice called by her ear.

Puyang’s eyes snapped open, staring fixedly ahead.

“Was Your Highness having a nightmare?”

Puyang stiffly turned her head to look at the person who had spoken.

It was her handmaiden.

She was awake.

It was a dream.

The heart that had been suspended in her chest finally settled. Puyang let out a weak sigh of relief. Her body, waking from the dream, gradually came back to life, and she was filled with thankfulness. The dream had been terrifyingly real; she had been both an observer and a participant. When Sir Wei took her own life, the bl00d had felt as if it had splattered on her own face. While motioning for the handmaidens in the hall to withdraw, she subconsciously reached up to touch her cheek. Her fingers came away wet with tears.

Puyang felt a chill run through her entire body.

The next day was the first of the month. The Emperor led the various princes and ministers to the Circular Mound Altar to offer sacrifices to Heaven, leaving Puyang with no official duties in her residence.

She ordered people to keep an eye on the residence of the Prince of Donghai and planned to place someone inside to watch Xiao Dewen closely.

This was not a difficult task. Who would think to be wary of the nine-year-old Imperial Grandson, a prince who had just lost his father? The security in his residence was surely not too strict. Puyang had also gathered a number of people over the past half-year who could now be put to use. Furthermore, she still remembered the few capable eunuchs around Xiao Dewen, and she could try to make contact with one or two of them.

This matter took up the better part of her day. Ever since waking from that dream last night, Puyang had been uneasy, and a stifling feeling still weighed on her chest.

What she had seen in the dream must have been the situation after her death in her previous life.

What Sir Wei had said last night matched the scene in the dream. Her words and actions were entirely consistent. From the moment Puyang saw Wei Xiu on Mount Mang, she knew she was the same Sir Wei from twelve years later. But never before had she felt so clearly and profoundly that she and the woman from twelve years in the future were one and the same person.

But Puyang felt an inexplicable unease. At the time, when she heard Sir Wei say she would follow her to the underworld, she had been deeply moved and found it rather sweet. Perhaps Sir Wei was not entirely indifferent to her. Otherwise, why make a vow to follow her in death?

But when she actually saw Sir Wei take her own life in the dream, she felt that it would be fine for her to be down there alone. Why must Sir Wei’s life be forfeit?

With this thought, Puyang wanted to see Wei Xiu. Before, she had felt affection, and though she was shy, annoyed, and angry that Sir Wei did not reciprocate, she could temporarily set aside her personal feelings, prioritize the grand cause, and plan for the long term. But after this dream, Puyang was now determined to have Wei Xiu.

At the same time, Puyang’s heart felt as if it were being scratched by thousands of ants. She wanted to know why Sir Wei would go to such lengths for her. Coming to her rescue before she drank the poison—even though she was a step too late, she had done her best. Puyang had never blamed her for being late, especially since they belonged to different factions. But why did she defect to the Prince of Zhao afterward? Was it because the letter she wrote was sent to the lands of Zhao? And why did she kill herself after avenging her hatred? Was the “Your Highness” she mentioned at the end referring to her?

In her past life, Sir Wei had indeed often called her “Your Highness.” And “a step sooner” did seem to refer to the matter of her drinking the poison.

But they had not had much interaction back then, let alone the master-subordinate relationship of this life.

What exactly had happened in between? Or was there something she had failed to notice?

Puyang was desperate for answers, but there was nowhere to find them.

She hurried to the small courtyard, only to find Wei Xiu was not there. A servant in the courtyard came forward to report that Sir Wei had gone out for the day.

Puyang glanced at the sky. Seeing it was almost dusk, she decided to wait for Wei Xiu in the small courtyard.

She waited until just before the evening meal.

In winter, the days were short and the nights long. The sky had darkened before the hour of Shen had even passed.

Puyang held a teacup, kneeling under the eaves. The small courtyard looked no different from when she had first had it built, but upon closer inspection, it seemed to have been imbued with Wei Xiu’s unique disposition.

If Sir Wei agreed to be her consort, perhaps this place would also carry her own aura.

Puyang thought idly until she saw Wei Xiu appear at the courtyard gate.

Wei Xiu had gone to her residence in the capital today.

She needed to keep abreast of court affairs and contact the forces she had planted in various regions, so she naturally had a group of people at her disposal. Today was the first day of the new year, so she went to the residence to distribute New Year’s gifts to her subordinates, thus marking the passing of the year.

When she returned to the small courtyard, she saw Puyang waiting for her. Wei Xiu thought for a moment but couldn’t recall any matter that would require Her Highness to come see her today. A flicker of curiosity arose in her heart.

The moment Wei Xiu appeared, Puyang stood up. She waited for her to draw near before exchanging pleasantries.

The two entered together. Before they had even settled down, someone came to report that the evening meal was ready.

Wei Xiu took the initiative to invite her. “If Your Highness has no other engagements, why not stay for the meal?”

Of course she had no other engagements; she had already waited an hour to see her. When Wei Xiu offered the invitation, she readily and happily accepted. Last night’s dream had been too real, too harrowing. Puyang felt that even if they said nothing and did nothing, just looking at Sir Wei a few more times would be good.

After the evening meal, the two sat in the hall, drinking tea and chatting idly.

Wei Xiu tilted her head to look at Puyang, a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Why is Your Highness so melancholy today?”

To say melancholy wasn’t quite right. Since entering, the princess had said very little, yet she clearly looked like she had something to say, frequently signaling with her eyes.

“I had a dream last night,” Puyang said.

Wei Xiu made a gesture of invitation, indicating she was willing to hear the details.

“That dream…” Puyang found it hard to continue. In the dream, she had died, and Sir Wei had taken her own life—it was truly inauspicious. There was no benefit in speaking of it. Puyang simply sighed and told a lie. “That dream was very much to my liking. In it, Sir Wei married…” Wei Xiu’s eyebrow twitched. In a moment of panic, Puyang immediately compromised and changed her words, “…took me as your consort.”

“Dreams are often the opposite of reality,” Wei Xiu said heartlessly.

“But there are also times when dreams come true.” Puyang’s smile was radiant. “Why don’t you consider that what I think of by day, I dream of by night.”

Just a few days ago, her feelings had been kept subtly in her heart. How could she declare them so openly today? Wei Xiu was hesitant. She placed her hands on her lap and said in a subdued tone, “Xiu’s legs are inconvenient. How could I burden someone for a lifetime?”

Puyang didn’t pause for even a second. “It’s what I long for.”

If they were together, she would not die by drinking poison in this life, and Sir Wei would not die by her own hand on the city ramparts. Puyang’s gaze grew fervent. She could almost feel the biting cold wind on the ramparts, feel Wei Xiu’s warm bl00d splashing on her face. She already liked her, and Sir Wei knew it. So why should she hide it any longer? It was better to fight for it boldly.

Puyang smiled and repeated, “I’ll let you burden me.”

Author’s Notes:

Why are you all saying in unison, “Don’t torture the princess, torture Xiu Xiu,” or, “Don’t torture the princess, as a compromise, torture Sir Wei”?

I won’t even ask why torturing the princess, after a discount, becomes torturing Sir Wei.

It’s just the first time I’ve seen everyone so united. Is it because Sir Wei looks like she can take a lot of torment?