Chapter Thirty-Five: Stirring of the Heart

When Ye An carried Ye Qianran out of the carriage, the moon was just rising above the willow branches, the night sky scattered with stars. Ye An instructed the servants to fetch Qingfeng, and sure enough, Qingfeng came out personally to greet them. Yet when his gaze fell upon Ye Qianran behind him, he paused, momentarily stunned. Ye An could only smile wryly, "Qingfeng, I'm troubling you again. My sister has been spoiled, and I can no longer persuade her."

Qingfeng frowned, a trace of displeasure in his expression. "Why must you drag your injured body here? How can you be so willful?"

Ye Qianran met his reproachful gaze, her eyes unreadable, staring at him silently. Qingfeng turned to Ye An, "It’s true, the two of us have indulged her too much. We shouldn't have pampered her so in the beginning."

The autumn wind sighed through the air, and Ye Qianran could not suppress a cough. Qingfeng looked at her, frail enough to be swept away by a breeze, and shook his head helplessly, gesturing for Ye An to bring her inside. Ye An half supported, half carried her through the gates.

Candlelight flickered, autumn wind rattled against the window panes. In the chamber, Ye Qianran’s face was pale, her simple white robe embroidered with faint irises, lips pressed tightly together. Cast in candlelight, her fragile sickliness was transformed into a breathtaking beauty. Qingfeng turned aside and instructed a servant, "When the young master returns home, tell him I have urgent business, and he must come to me at once." The servant bowed and withdrew.

Liuyun arrived, carried by the autumn wind. At a glance, he saw Ye Qianran seated in the candlelight, his breath caught, turning lighter. He gazed quietly at her pallid face, his brows knitted, a wave of bitterness rising in his heart. He turned away, and Qingfeng stood and asked, "Why did you return so late today?"

A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained cold, his voice as calm as ever. "The emperor summoned me and my father for important discussion; we were delayed. What did you want from me?"

Qingfeng glanced at Ye Qianran but did not answer, striding out instead. As Ye An passed him, he paused, leaving behind a barely audible sigh.

Ye Qianran pushed herself up from the table, candlelight flickering. Incense smoke curled from the burner on the desk. Behind her, the screen adorned with blooming epiphyllum cast his tall silhouette—cold brows, straight nose, thin lips, a white robe embroidered with elegant bamboo leaves, the lingering aura of cold iron armor about him. This was the man who haunted her dreams and thoughts, the only one she truly loved, and now he stood before her.

She summoned all her strength, step by step, and walked to him. Unable to restrain herself, she embraced him tightly, burying her face in his chest, her voice low, almost a sigh, "I missed you." The words were soft and tender, turning hardened steel into gentle silk.

Her heart was struck as if by something fierce and hot, a muffled pain. Zhuge Liuyun closed his eyes, his handsome brows drawn tight, the heartbeat on his left side shattering like a frozen river breaking apart.

He raised his right hand, but after a moment, let it fall helplessly, a sigh escaping his lips as he called to her softly, "Qianran?"

Nestled in his arms, Ye Qianran nodded, paused, then shook her head.

Zhuge Liuyun put a little distance between them, his usual cool smile gone, his expression unreadable. He looked down at her, eyes full of uncertainty. "Qianran, I am not as good as you think. I'm just an ordinary man, with weaknesses and faults. I get angry when I’m unhappy, withdraw when faced with setbacks, lose my temper when irritated. I'm not as perfect as you imagine."

Ye Qianran looked up at him, her voice low but gentle, "But I love you."

Zhuge Liuyun opened his mouth, but no words came. After a long silence, he sighed, "Qianran, you are still so young. Many things are not as simple as you think."

Her gaze locked onto his handsome face, as if searching for its depths. After a long while, a smile bloomed at her lips, the dimple on her cheek vivid and beautiful. She tilted her head, eyes full of curiosity, "Are you afraid?"

Zhuge Liuyun was momentarily stunned, unable to respond.

Ye Qianran seemed to have discovered a secret. She lifted her head, "You don’t dislike me, do you?"

He pressed his lips together, frowned, still saying nothing.

Ye Qianran would not let him off, her eyes fixed on him, not missing a single expression. "You are afraid I’ll regret it, afraid I’ll be disappointed, because you also love me, isn’t that right?"

Her gaze brimmed with passion and anticipation, though she tried her best to contain it.

Zhuge Liuyun’s slender fingers brushed her temple, slid down her cheek, then lifted her chin, his eyes deep and unfathomable, staring into hers. His voice was low and resonant, "Why me?"

"Hmm?"

"There are so many who love you. Why me? Is it because I rejected you?"

Ye Qianran raised her brows, meeting his gaze without avoidance, her voice warm and resolute. "No." She paused, as if afraid he wouldn’t believe her, repeating, "Never."

Outside, the round moon hung among the osmanthus branches, moonlight hazy, night clouds stretching across the sky. Occasionally, the cry of a nightingale could be heard. Candlelight illuminated two young faces, air gently flowing, breaths audible in the quiet—creating, for an instant, the illusion of eternity.

In the next moment, he pulled her into his gentle embrace, his right hand unable to restrain its tight hold. Ye Qianran remained motionless in his arms, fearing that even a breath might cause him to vanish. She could feel his steady heartbeat, the warmth of his hands around her waist. It felt unreal, beautiful like a dream. She murmured his name, "Liuyun."

Zhuge Liuyun finally abandoned resistance. That single "I missed you," that single "Liuyun," shattered his will completely. He had believed that five years could teach him to conceal all emotion, but his resolve was not so firm after all. Perhaps he could risk it once more—better to try than to give up before beginning.

His deep voice whispered in her ear, with a trace of bewitchment, "Qianran, I cannot promise you anything. I do not know my future, and I carry a heavy debt of sin. I cannot say what kind of future I can offer you. Are you sure that I am what you want?"

As he spoke such uncertain words, his hands around her waist did not relax.

Ye Qianran finally reached up, holding him tightly, her face buried in his chest, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye onto his robe. "I have never loved anyone before, nor do I truly understand what love is. But I want to see you every day. I don’t want empty promises. I don’t know what the future holds, but I am willing to take the risk. So long as I am with you, I fear nothing."

The wind filled the room with the scent of flowers, the screen with blooming epiphyllum swaying in the candlelight. Both wore white robes, like two white butterflies embracing each other. His lips pressed against her silk-like black hair. Outside, old trees unknown to name stood, their green tinged with dusk, colors deep and ripe—autumn would soon arrive.

Since the day she saw him, half a month had passed. Ye Qianran’s health gradually improved; he had not sought her out, nor she him. Though longing burned in her bones, haunting her day and night, she understood clearly—some things could be hurried, others not. Liuyun’s heart held too many burdens that needed time to be settled.

During this period, Qingfeng often visited her, discussing poetry and books, sharing tales of notable figures in the capital—who had married, which official feared his wife, how many wives a certain marquis had taken. The capital was a place of gossip, where good news stayed hidden and bad news spread everywhere. Ye Qianran listened, sometimes smiling. Occasionally, they discussed court politics. Though Qingfeng claimed to dislike officialdom, he was a passionate young man, caring for the country even from afar.

Qingfeng said the imperial policy to reduce the power of the princes was finally settled. The emperor accepted the opinions of Zhang Jing and Zhu Tai: first to curb Qi, Lu, Yan, Zhao, Chu, Qi, and Zhou, leaving Prince Ning and Prince Jingjiang for last. Not only were their armies the strongest, but they had left no evidence for the court to seize upon. The emperor feared acting without legitimate cause, so was cautious, deciding to adopt Zhu Tai and Zhang Jing’s proposal.

Thus, the struggle between the two factions at court ended, and the reduction of the princes’ power entered a proper phase.

Qingfeng said his father had always looked down on Zhu Tai’s pedantic ways. Now that the emperor had accepted their plan, he felt somewhat uncomfortable, but fortunately, his father was not narrow-minded, and after a few days, it passed. He was now busy discussing with the emperor what pretext to use for the reduction of power, and Liuyun bore the heavy responsibility of guarding the capital. Their household seemed to have only Qingfeng idle; even his ten-year-old sister Luoyu laughed at him for being unproductive. He was helpless—if not for attending Ye An’s wedding, he would have left long ago. Now he was left in a sorry state, and blamed Ye An for it, vowing to get his revenge before he left. Ye Qianran always laughed at his childishness, but he paid it no mind. Thus, days passed one after another.

Late autumn, the ninth month, all trees and flowers withered, the autumn wind rustling. In the courtyard, several maples stood with dense crowns, their leaves turning deep red, like clouds beneath the feet of a woman in red, dazzling to the eye.

On windless days, Ye Qianran would bring Juanbi and Luluan beneath the trees to play the zither, her feet crunching dry leaves, the fiery red of the maples sharpening her beauty.

Her brother would sometimes play chess with her, or exchange a few playful words with Luluan. Ye Qianran, ever sensitive, noticed that since Luluan shielded her brother that day, he treated her differently. She thought nothing of it, assuming he was simply repaying a debt. But more often, her brother was busy with wedding arrangements as the date approached, and he had less and less time to visit her.