Chapter 458: Eternal Night, Sleeping Beauty

Jin Ling, Yumin Fang.

In Jia Cong's main house, candlelight glowed brightly; a round table inlaid with marble was laden with sumptuous dishes and delicacies.

Beside Jia Cong sat Qin Qin Keqing and Qu Qu Hongxiu; the three toasted each other in quiet sips, exchanging casual daily chatter, their mood warm and harmonious.

These past days, Jia Cong had completed all major matters in Jin Ling, and his life had grown leisurely and easy.

In his daily time, he either stayed with the two in Yumin Fang, or visited Zou Min'er's wounds in Mingze Alley.

Until the day before, the imperial reply from Emperor Emperor Jia Zhao arrived in Jin Ling; tomorrow, Jia Cong would set off to return to Love Shenjing to report.

Today's small banquet in the main house was a farewell feast hosted by Qu Qu Hongxiu and Qin Qin Keqing for Jia Cong.

Each of them carried countless feelings of reluctance, yet in each other's presence, they dared not show it on their faces.

In this world, parting calls only for Du Kang wine—how much more so when three sit together, that peculiar sweetness and ambiguity seeming to make the wine even more fragrant.

One pot of wine was quickly drained; the atmosphere at the table grew softer, sweeter, more fragrant.

Both Qu Qu Hongxiu and Jia Cong had trained in martial arts since childhood, their bodies strong, their liquor capacity excellent.

But Qin Qin Keqing was a delicate lady of the inner chambers, never touching wine; yet with Jia Cong's departure imminent, she set aside her reserve, and after three rounds and five or six cups, her fair cheeks flushed crimson, her starry eyes half-lidded with drowsiness.

In the end, she could no longer sit upright, slumping softly against Jia Cong, unconscious.

Qu Qu Hongxiu's spirits remained high; with departure imminent, she spoke in low, tender tones, as if she had endless words for Jia Cong.

She went to help Qin Keqing to the bed for rest, then resumed drinking and talking with Jia Cong.

Outside the window, night deepened; all sounds faded, save the continuous chirping of autumn insects in the courtyard.

Qu Qu Hongxiu suddenly said: "Congdi, after the New Year you'll be of age—perhaps this time you return to the capital, your family will arrange a marriage for you."

"Sister Xiu, why bring this up?"

"Didn't Miss Seeing Yingchun's letter mention the imperial marriage proposal? Clearly, in your household, you've reached this point."

"You still want to keep me company and ease your boredom—but once you're betrothed, you'll have no eyes for me. You leave now, and I won't know when you'll return."

Jia Cong heard the tremor in her voice, the sorrow and loneliness in her tone; suddenly, alcohol surged in him, and he mumbled bold words.

"What nonsense—without you beside me these past years, I wouldn't be where I am today. Am I really so heartless?"

Qu Qu Hongxiu drained her cup, snorted, and said: "You're the kind who always charms girls—today Qin Miss, tomorrow Zou Miss, someday you'll surely become a heartless rogue…"

Qu Qu Hongxiu spoke these words because she had heard from Jia Cong of Zou Min'er's plight, and knew he had used the Xinchun Su Zhou branch to forge her identity and even secured her a residence in Su Zhou.

Jia Cong had told her that Xu Xu Qiniang of Xinghua Alley's Yao family wine shop, and many officers of the Jin Ling Zhongche Office, had all seen Zou Min'er.

Since Zou Min'er had faked her death to escape, if she wished to live peacefully in the future, she could not remain in Jin Ling—any slip might let Xu Xu Qiniang uncover the truth; only relocating her securely was safest.

Qu Qu Hongxiu also knew that two days ago, Zou Min'er had departed for Su Zhou to settle, and that this little rascal had personally escorted her out of the city.

Though her heart burned with jealousy, disliking Jia Cong's attention to other women, Zou Min'er's tragic circumstances moved her deeply, so she pretended not to notice—yet whenever she thought of it, anger still stirred within her.

Jia Cong, seeing her in the candlelight—drunk, languid, softly troubled, eyes like silken threads, exquisitely beautiful—felt his heart thump wildly.

Qu Qu Hongxiu, noticing Jia Cong staring blankly at her, already seven or eight parts drunk, scowled playfully: "Why are you looking at me like that, little rascal? Up to no good again."

Jia Cong, eyes glazed with drink, gazed at Qu Qu Hongxiu's lovely face and said: "Sister Xiu, did you use rose-scented rouge today?"

Qu Qu Hongxiu bit her lip, guiltily reproaching: "You… what are you up to now?"

The half-full pot of wine on the table was suddenly knocked over; wine spilled across the tabletop, filling the room with its rich fragrance.

Beneath the flickering candlelight, their shadows gradually embraced, breathing hurried and intoxicated, arms wrapped in soft, poetic warmth, lips near fragrant necks.

Qu Qu Hongxiu's voice, faintly ashamed and annoyed: "Congdi, don't do this—again you're acting up. Next time… you won't get me to wear rouge again."

…

Dawn, the east faintly whitening.

Qin Qin Keqing awoke, and as she tried to rise, a splitting headache from the hangover struck her; her delicate brows furrowed, and she collapsed helplessly back onto the bed.

She sensed the bed felt unfamiliar—the canopy was pine-smoke green, not the ivory-white gauze of her own room.

Suddenly she realized: this was Jia Cong's bed. Yesterday, she had passed out and slept in his room; her heart pounded like a drum, her body half-melted.

Hearing even breathing beside her, she discovered Jia Cong was sleeping right beside her, snoring soundly; her heart trembled, and she couldn't help reaching out to touch his face.

Then she felt something strange in her arms; when she looked closer, her face flushed crimson—Jia Cong's right hand had been buried inside her robe, gently holding her.

Qin Keqing, overwhelmed with shame and weakness, lost in tender longing, noticed the red lip mark and fragrance on Jia Cong's lips; she felt a faint surprise, leaned in to sniff—it wasn't hers.

At that moment, she noticed another oddity on the bed, nearly screaming aloud.

She saw Qu Qu Hongxiu sleeping beside Jia Cong, her long hair disheveled, her cheeks still flushed, lovely as a rose, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, intimate beyond words.

Qu Qu Hongxiu's small jacket buttons had been undone halfway, revealing a sliver of snowy silk embroidered undergarment, her pale skin glowing, curves rising and falling, exquisite forms half-revealed.

Last night, they had toasted Jia Cong's farewell, all three drunk, and somehow ended up sleeping in the same bed—had they done anything…?

She bit her red lips, gazing at the sleeping Jia Cong, at the warm hand in her arms—well, he was hers eventually; let him do as he pleased.

Qin Keqing, blushing, gently pulled Jia Cong's hand from her robe—but the motion woke Qu Qu Hongxiu beside him.

Sensing the change, she sat up in alarm, seeing Qin Keqing's beautiful eyes wide with fear fixed on her.

Qu Qu Hongxiu's face burned crimson; she wished she could vanish into the floor. Frantically, she fastened her buttons, covering her slender figure, yet Jia Cong still slept peacefully.

She felt a pang of fear—thankfully, this little rascal had poor liquor tolerance; last night he'd drunk far too much, clinging and roughhousing with her, probably passing out from drunkenness.

Otherwise, all three of them having done something… they'd never face anyone again.

Thinking of this, Qu Qu Hongxiu's heart swelled with shame and anger; she moved to grab Jia Cong's ear—only for Qin Keqing to block her.

The two exchanged glances, hearts trembling, limbs weak, cheeks flushed, fleeing the room in silence.

…

Jin Ling, Taiping Gate.

A gentle breeze brushed the face, willows swayed tenderly.

Today was Jia Cong's day to leave Jin Ling; since he would pass through Su Zhou to pick up Zhi Shao and Master Sister Miao Yu before returning to the capital, he did not travel with Guo Lin.

He passed through Taiping Gate; Qu Qu Hongxiu and Qin Qin Keqing saw him off, their soft words and tender farewells finally ending in parting.

When Jia Cong rode away on horseback, the carriage by the roadside lingered long, the curtain gently lifted, revealing two radiant faces like blooming roses.

Watching the dozen horses gallop into the distance, Qin Keqing could not hold back her tears.

"Sister Xiu, do you think he'll ever come back?"

Qu Qu Hongxiu comforted her: "Don't worry—Congdi values loyalty and has always kept you close. When he gets the chance, he'll surely return to Jin Ling to see us."

She thought of last night's drunkenness, the absurdity of sharing a bed, the embrace in sleep—her cheeks flushed again.

Jia Cong's strikingly handsome face rose before her, stirring her heart further.

Suddenly, that familiar face, inexplicably, reminded her of the portrait she kept hidden—long-standing doubts, unbidden, drifted back into her mind.

That time Jia Cong told her that Xu Xu Qiniang, supposedly a secret sect heir, had become a core officer of the Jin Ling Zhongche Office.

And the Jin Ling Du family, who once conspired with the secret sect to incite rebellion in the south…

Jin Ling, the Du family, the secret sect, and her Congdi—behind all of this, some obscure, unclear connection seemed to linger.

But no matter who Jia Cong truly was, to Qu Qu Hongxiu, it made no difference—years of shared hardship had made him the most important, most intimate person in her life.

Back then, in that dark cave, when the blazing fire illuminated them, from the moment their eyes met, their fate was sealed.

…

After parting from Qu Qu Hongxiu and Qin Qin Keqing, Jia Cong galloped on, his thoughts heavy, his heart hollow.

He had ridden less than half a li when he saw Liu Linjiang Xian, the second branch steward of the Zhen family, already waiting by the roadside on horseback.

Seeing Jia Cong appear, he rode forward and said: "Lord Lord Weiyuan, my third lady knew you'd return to Love Shenjing today. Since the family's mourning is not yet complete, she could not come herself. She sent me to see you off."

"She said your achievements in Jin Ling will surely earn you the Emperor's favor and rewards upon your return to the capital."

"The Zhen family is still under suspicion; a public send-off in the city would draw attention and invite slander, so she asked me to wait for you outside the city."

Jia Cong smiled: "Your lady truly has thought of everything."

Liu Linjiang Xian produced a brocade box and said: "This is the third lady's parting gift. She says she will never forget your help, and wishes you a safe journey."

Jia Cong saw inside the box a snow-white jade hairpin without a frame, exquisitely carved from a single piece of premium mutton-fat jade.

Also inside: a pale moon-white robe with subtle floral brocade, and a silver-silk belt inlaid with jewels—all everyday attire, refined and noble, thoughtful in their detail.

His heart stirred slightly—Great Zhou inherited Tang and Song traditions; a woman gifting a man a hairpin carried an unusual meaning.

An old poem from previous dynasties: "I comb my fragrant cloud-like hair; you tidy your dark locks. No one speaks for a thousand li—your cap is a pledge of love."

Zhen Zhen Fangqing's gift of hairpin and robe could not be mistaken for an ordinary farewell token.

Jia Cong recalled Seeing Yingchun's mention of the imperial marriage proposal—he had known nothing of it until he received her letter.

But the proposal originated from the Zhen family; Zhen Zhen Fangqing must have known…

…

Jin Ling, west of Taiping Gate, Fuzhou Mountain.

On the southern slope, many graves had been built; this place, with clear waters and green hills, was a favored burial ground for many wealthy families of Jin Ling.

On the lush, grassy slope, a beautiful, slender young woman carried incense, candles, and paper money, followed by a girl of seventeen or eighteen, walking among the graves.

After searching a stretch of the graveyard, the young girl suddenly cried: "Madam Xu, I found Zou Miss's grave—here it is!" Since the matter of Zhou Zhou Zhengyang had been settled and the Jin Ling Water Supervision case closed, and Jia Cong had now left Jin Ling…

The Zhongche Office officers previously dispatched to riverside prefectures—including Zhang Wu, Wu Mai, and others—had all returned to Jin Ling.

Xu Xu Qiniang had worked alongside Zou Min'er; from Jia Cong, she learned Zou Min'er was buried on Fuzhou Mountain, and today she came with Wu Mai to pay respects.

At Zou Min'er's grave, they found another mound beside it; the tombstone bore the name of Zou Min'er's mother.

Both graves were meticulously cleaned, no weeds at their edges—clearly someone had visited and swept them recently.

Before Zou's mother's tombstone lay a bouquet of vivid red flowers, shaped like lilies; though most petals had withered, they had clearly been placed there only days ago.

Wu Mai gazed at the clean, orderly graves and sighed: "Lord Lord Weiyuan truly is a romantic soul—even before leaving Jin Ling, he remembered to sweep Zou Miss's grave."

Zou Min'er's death by assassination at Qingyin Pavilion had spread throughout Jin Ling; rumors of her romantic affair with Lord Lord Weiyuan Jia Cong had become a popular, scandalous topic in the streets.

Young girls like Wu Mai were especially drawn to such tales of handsome scholar and beautiful maiden, a tragic ending—especially when both were people they knew.

So, seeing the two graves freshly swept and adorned with fresh flowers, she imagined romantic scenarios—Jia Cong, about to embark on a long journey, still making time to visit the graves of his beloved late companion.

Xu Xu Qiqiang seemed to lack the tender sentiments of a young girl like Wu Wu Maiqiao.

She paid little attention to the freshly swept graves of Zou Min'er and her mother, but fixated intently on the flowers before Zou Madam's tomb.

She pointed to the flowers before Zou Madam's tomb and said, "Wu Maiqiao, do you know what these flowers are?"

Wu Wu Maiqiao tilted her head, glanced once, and said, "They're bright red and quite lovely—I don't know their name, but the Earl of Lord Weiyuan certainly has thoughtfulness; he even places flowers at the grave when sweeping it."

Xu Xu Qiqiang's gaze flickered and said, "These are called Yi Nan Cao. In Jiangnan, women hoping for a son place this flower in their bedrooms to invite auspicious fortune."

Yi Nan Cao has another name: Qiu Xuan Cao Hua."

Wu Wu Maiqiao listened, intrigued, and laughed, "It's clearly a flower, yet called by the name of grass—and not just one name! How amusing. Xu Shopkeeper, you're surprisingly well-versed in plants."

Xu Xu Qiqiang said, "I'm not especially skilled with plants—I only know this Qiu Xuan Cao well. I'm from Wukang in Huzhou; even three-year-olds in my hometown know this grass."

Wu Wu Maiqiao, curious, asked, "Why is that?"

Xu Xu Qiqiang gazed at the withered Qiu Xuan Cao before Zou Madam's tomb and said, "Because in the late Tang dynasty, a great poet from Wukang composed a poem called 'The Traveler's Ballad.'"

'Qiu Xuan Cao grows on the courtyard steps; the traveler journeys far from home. The loving mother leans by the gate, yet sees no Qiu Xuan Cao bloom.'

This poem is known throughout Wukang; nearly everyone can recite it."

Wu Wu Maiqiao listened, utterly baffled. Born into poverty, she could barely read a few characters—poetry and verse were entirely beyond her.

When Xu Xu Qiqiang suddenly recited poetry, Wu Wu Maiqiao was even more confused, understanding not a word.

Xu Xu Qiqiang seemed merely to be chatting idly and did not continue speaking with Wu Wu Maiqiao; instead, as she burned paper money for Zou Min'er, she stared blankly at her tombstone.

There were still words she had not told Wu Wu Maiqiao: in Jiangnan, Qiu Xuan Cao Hua symbolizes a mother's tender love, and is always offered by children to honor their mothers.

Even if Jia Cong was deeply devoted to Zou Min'er, it was understandable that he swept Zou Madam's grave while visiting Zou Min'er's.

But he would never place Qiu Xuan Cao Hua before Zou Madam's tomb.

The only person in this world who would do such a thing is Zou Madam's sole child—Zou Min'er. But Zou Min'er had already been assassinated at Qingyin Pavilion; her grave lies right before us.

Xu Xu Qiqiang gazed at Zou Min'er's tombstone, and a chill rose in her heart…

…

Su Zhou, He Guang Fang.

This was an ordinary neighborhood within Su Zhou, nestled beside the central district, quiet yet peaceful amid the bustle.

Jia Cong walked through the ancient, rustic alleyways of the neighborhood.

That morning, upon arriving in Su Zhou, he had sent Jiang Liu with nine firelock personal guards to settle into a city inn.

He himself went to visit Zou Min'er's residence.

Zou Min'er's residence in Su Zhou had been specially arranged by the Su Zhou branch of Xinchun Company.

Given Zou Min'er's unique status, her dwelling could not be too noisy or crowded, yet needed to be convenient for daily life and close enough for the Xinchun branch to monitor.

He instructed Wang Dequan, who managed the Su Zhou branch, to procure and set up only the finest furnishings and supplies in Su Zhou.

A few days earlier, Jia Cong had seen that Zou Min'er's injuries had largely healed and she was no longer weakened by travel.

He dispatched capable staff from the main branch to escort Zou Min'er and Lingguan to Su Zhou for resettlement.

Zhang Zhang Youpeng, seeing Zou Min'er had fully recovered, wished to return to the Divine Capital; Jia Cong asked him to stop by Yangzhou to treat Lin Lin Ruhai, who was unwell.

Zhang Zhang Youpeng not only agreed immediately, but, true to his healer's compassion, departed for Yangzhou that very day.

Jia Cong was greatly pleased—it relieved one of his burdens—and he could later inform Lin Daiyu upon returning to the capital, easing her mind.

…

After walking through streets and alleys for a long while, Jia Cong entered a narrow lane and stopped before a charming little courtyard gate, gently tapping the door ring.

Soon, footsteps approached, and someone peered out through the door crack.

The gate opened, and Jia Cong saw Lingguan, her face bright with joy, eyes sparkling, beautifully charming.

"Third Master, we've been waiting for you!"

Lingguan took his hand and led him into the courtyard.

After passing through the gate, Jia Cong turned the screen wall and saw Zou Min'er dressed in a simple cloth gown and jacket, her long hair wrapped in a printed cloth, sweeping fallen leaves from the courtyard.

Her slender hands gleamed, her figure graceful, strands of hair stirring gently—she looked like a modest, unadorned woman, refreshingly lovely.

A young maid, about Lingguan's age, was sprinkling water where Zou Min'er had swept, to settle the faint dust.

The noble daughter of Jinling or the peerless musician of Qingyin Pavilion seemed gone; only this woman, washed clean of worldly dust, remained.

This scene left Jia Cong momentarily entranced.

Zou Min'er heard footsteps, looked up, and met Jia Cong's gaze—something tender and deep seemed to bind their eyes together.

The early autumn sun, brilliant and warm, bathed them in quiet radiance, casting two overlapping shadows.

Jia Cong asked, "When you left Jinling, your waist was still stiff—how are you doing such chores now?"

Zou Min'er smiled, swaying her slender waist before him, spinning lightly; her skirt flared like a water lily opening to the light, dazzlingly beautiful.

"When I left the capital, Doctor Zhang said I was fully recovered, but lying in bed so long had stiffened me. Doing light chores daily will loosen my waist."

Jia Cong noticed the young maid sprinkling water, standing beside Zou Min'er, curiously watching him—her features delicate and shy, radiating childlike innocence.

"Where did this little maid come from?"

Zou Min'er smiled, "She's a new servant purchased by the Su Zhou branch. Her name is Shuang He. Manager Qu specifically arranged for her to serve me—please thank him for me when you see him."

Jia Cong recalled that night drinking with Qu Qu Hongxiu, when she had scolded him for flirting with girls—yet in the end, she softened, thinking of things he hadn't even considered.

That night, Jia Cong stayed in Zou Min'er's courtyard. After dinner, night had fallen.

Lingguan, with Shuang He, cleared the dishes, glanced at Jia Cong and Zou Min'er, then pulled Shuang He out of the main room.

She knew that after she and Third Master left, Zou Min'er would be alone in Su Zhou; future meetings would be rare—they must have private words to share.

Inside the main room, Zou Min'er glanced at Jia Cong, her cheeks faintly flushed, and took from beside the bed a half-finished long robe, holding it against his shoulders.

"You're leaving now—when will I see you again? I want to make you a robe. I've never done this before; my stitching is crude—don't you dare mock me."

Jia Cong laughed, "How could it be crude? It already looks fine."

"I don't know when I'll return to Jiangnan, but Xinchun Company has a flying-feather message station in Su Zhou—visit often. If you have anything to say, send me a letter; I'll receive it in two or three days."

Jia Cong watched her smiling, holding the unfinished robe, circling him to measure it; her graceful silhouette, her soft, intoxicating fragrance, slowly enveloped him.

Beneath the golden candlelight, her lovely face was extraordinarily radiant; her curved, upturned lashes cast quiet shadows upon her eyelids.

She smiled, "The sleeves seem a bit too long."

Jia Cong saw her take scissors and thread, and began sewing under the candlelight; he sat beside her, watching her work—like an ordinary husband and wife in the mortal world.

Deep night, the chamber silent—they both knew their time together was few; tomorrow, they would part, separated by a thousand li.

Jia Cong had often seen Qingwen sewing for him; he noticed Zou Min'er's stitching was far more awkward.

"Ah!"

Zou Min'er softly cried out, her left index finger pricked, a tiny bead of crystal blood welling.

Jia Cong, moved by her clumsy needlework, felt a pang of sorrow, took her hand, and placed the pierced finger in his mouth.

When Zou Min'er had nearly died from her wounds, even the intimate acts of removing her clothes and changing her dress had been done by Jia Cong himself—they had long since shed all reserve.

To others, such gestures might seem intimate; to him, before Zou Min'er, they were natural.

Her slender hand, like jade, fingertips soft and smooth, seemed to hold unspoken emotion.

He looked up and saw tears glistening in Zou Min'er's eyes, her face flushed crimson as she gazed at him.

That night, she worked by candlelight until the moon hung high, adjusting the robe until it fit perfectly; Jia Cong stayed by her side the entire night.

At midnight, Lingguan rose and found the guest room dark, but the main room still lit; through the window, two faint figures leaned close.

She suddenly blushed, her heart racing, and ran back to her room, pulling the covers over her head.

The next morning, Zou Min'er helped Jia Cong comb his hair and dress, then fastened around his waist the tiger-patterned jade belt he had chosen years ago at Zi Yun Pavilion.

Warm, bright morning light streamed into the bedroom; the plum-blossom jeweled gold hairpin in her coiffure reflected dazzling brilliance—as if time itself had paused.

Countless fates in this world are like morning flowers and morning dew—briefly radiant, yet fleeting; too swift to nurture growth—what must depart cannot be kept… (End of Chapter)