Chapter 86: Reunion After Three Years

The wide, empty clearing between the mountains was exactly as the shepherd boy described: the Xize River cut through the land, but nothing else remained. The flames of war in years past, the fields littered with corpses, rivers of blood—all had long since vanished under the relentless passage of time. Standing there, Ye Qianran recalled what Qingfeng had said: "During the Battle of Xize, I was in the command tent, Liuyun was on the battlefield. The two armies fought fiercely for three days and nights. The imperial troops suffered a crushing defeat, and Liuyun did not return. I heard from the few soldiers who managed to escape that Liuyun was gravely wounded and had died in battle. I refused to believe it, so I sent people to search the battlefield. All they found was his armor, but no body. I have never believed he was dead."

She, too, refused to believe it—living or dead, she would only believe what she saw with her own eyes. He could not be dead.

Ye Qianran crouched by the river and washed her face with a handful of cool, crystalline water. The refreshing chill eased her heart a little. As she stood up, a wave of dizziness overcame her. She shook her head, thinking it was simply hunger, and paid it no mind. She resolved to endure a bit longer and wait until she reached the next town. But after only a few steps, she collapsed heavily by the riverbank.

A mountain breeze stirred. The indigo peaks loomed and faded among drifting clouds. From afar, the tinkling of silver bells rang out as a young married woman, her hair neatly tied, and a girl of about ten rode slowly toward the river on an ox. The girl sitting in front pointed energetically at the riverbank and shouted, "Sister, look, someone has fainted by the river!" The woman did not even look, but laughed, "A Luo, you’re making things up again. Why would anyone be by the river?"

A Luo tugged at her sleeve. "Sister, look, it’s true! I’m not lying."

The woman glanced in the direction the girl pointed and, indeed, saw someone collapsed by the river. She quickly leapt off the ox and hurried over.

A Luo squatted beside Ye Qianran, biting her finger in puzzlement. "Why did this big sister faint here?"

The woman smiled. "I don’t know either. But she doesn’t look like someone from the village—perhaps a traveler from afar. In any case, we can’t just leave her here. Let’s take her home."

A Luo grinned, "Last time you rescued a big brother, and he became your husband. I wonder what this big sister you’re saving will become—am I right, Sister?"

The woman blushed bright red, but retorted, "A Luo, if you keep talking nonsense, I’ll leave you behind and only take the big sister home."

A Luo covered her mouth and giggled, then helped her sister lift Ye Qianran onto the ox’s back.

The bells jingled; the mountain wind swept by, tossing the girl’s soft dark hair. A Luo led the way, the woman guided the ox, and behind them trailed the boundless beauty of spring.

When Ye Qianran awoke, the setting sun’s rays filtered through the window. She struggled to rise, her body still weak and limbs heavy. Sitting on the bedside, she surveyed the simple, elegant wooden room, faint traces of medicinal fragrance lingering in the air. Her gaze fell upon a young woman in a pale blue dress entering with a bowl of medicine. Seeing Ye Qianran awake, the girl smiled, her voice clear and refreshing like a mountain spring, "You’re awake?"

Ye Qianran gave a feeble smile. "Did you save me?"

The girl smiled, setting the medicine on the table. "I’m a doctor. It’s my duty to heal the sick and save the wounded—think nothing of it." She paused, then continued, "You’ve just woken up and are still weak. I’ve prepared some tonic for you—please drink it." She helped Ye Qianran sit up. Ye Qianran looked up and gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

The woman tilted her head curiously. "You don’t look like you’re from around here. How did you come to faint by the river?"

Ye Qianran set down the bowl and looked at her. The slanting sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the woman’s clear and bright eyes, as innocent as a child’s. Ye Qianran smiled faintly. "I’m from the capital. I suppose I’ve been traveling too hastily these past days and my body couldn’t take it. I’m fortunate to have met you. Thank you for saving my life."

The young woman flushed a little. "All I did was bring you back from the river, nothing more. If you keep thanking me, I’ll be embarrassed." She stood up, paused, and asked, "My name is A Chun. May I ask your name?"

Ye Qianran steadied herself against the table. "My surname is Ye."

A Chun smiled. "So you’re Miss Ye. How coincidental—you’re from the capital, and so is my husband. I’m sure he’ll feel at home meeting you."

At that moment, laughter drifted in from outside. A Chun’s face lit up. "That must be my husband." She ran out, smiling.

Ye Qianran smiled as well and stepped away from the table, but someone lifted the curtain and entered. Her smile froze on her lips, her face going pale and almost translucent. She gripped the table, her fingers and body trembling.

Wei Zhuang!

He stood in the doorway, the beaded curtain swaying behind him. He saw her and was not surprised, as if it were perfectly natural. Then, astonishingly, he smiled—a derisive, mocking smile, laced with inexplicable irony.

Then Ye Qianran heard another voice, gentle as spring rain— the voice that haunted her dreams. "Master Wei?"

He emerged from behind Wei Zhuang, lifting the curtain with a familiar smile on his lips. At that moment, Ye Qianran felt as if lightning had split her in two, her mind going utterly blank.

Liuyun?!

Fate is ever changeable, time ever flowing—we cannot escape the hand that stirs the clouds and summons the rain in this mortal world.

In the courtyard, an apricot tree bloomed brilliantly, its petals fluttering on the breeze. A Chun led the two men into the room, introducing, "This is Miss Ye, from the capital." Then, turning to Ye Qianran, "This is my husband. This is Master Wei, my husband’s friend."

No one spoke; the room was oppressively, unnaturally silent.

A Chun looked from Wei Zhuang to her husband in confusion—why was no one saying anything?

Ye Qianran forced a faint smile. "It’s been a long time."

A Chun’s eyes widened in surprise. Wei Zhuang sneered, "And to whom, exactly, are you saying that?"

A Chun looked from one to the other in bewilderment. Ye Qianran’s smile grew even more strained; for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

Wei Zhuang turned to A Chun, his dark eyes suddenly gentle and harmless—so unlike the way he looked at Ye Qianran. "A Chun, this Miss Ye whom you so fortuitously rescued is not only an old acquaintance of mine, but an old friend of your husband as well."

A Chun’s gaze shifted to Zhuge Liuyun. Ye Qianran, too, looked at his resolute face. After so many years, she had finally found him.

The gentle, refined young man of the past had grown into a mature and composed man. He wore simple blue clothes, his figure lean and tall, and in his dark eyes the passion of old was gone.

Silence descended once more.

No one knew what to say. Should they cry, shake hands, embrace, say "It’s been so long, I’ve missed you"? But their relationship had never been so simple.

Especially now, with A Chun by his side.

And as for Wei Zhuang... there was nothing left to say between them.

Ye Qianran’s heart constricted painfully, her stomach churning with sourness and bitterness. She had never imagined finding him, never imagined he would be married. But now, face to face, there was no choice left. She could say nothing. Confronted with his wife and with the man she had once betrayed, what could she say? Her stomach cramped painfully; she bent double, retching again and again, but nothing came up. All she expelled was the bitterness and pain in her heart.

A Chun hurried over to rub her back, hoping to comfort her, but Ye Qianran pushed her away and ran out, an arrow released from the bow, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere a moment longer.

Zhuge Liuyun gripped the doorframe so tightly his knuckles turned white, his face bloodless. A Chun watched him anxiously. Wei Zhuang’s lips curled in a cold smile. "I’ll go check on her," he said mildly, but as he brushed past Liuyun, he could clearly sense that Liuyun was as taut as a bowstring about to snap.

Zhuge Liuyun reached out to block him. Wei Zhuang glanced at the hand on his arm—dry, slender, strong. "I’ll go," Zhuge Liuyun said.

A Chun suddenly realized there must be secrets between these three—secrets she did not know.

Zhuge Liuyun rushed out.

A peach tree in full, bewitching bloom stood before the door. Passersby could not help but pause to admire it. Zhuge Liuyun looked up along the path stretching endlessly into the distance, but saw no sign of her.

He pressed his hand tightly to his chest, cold sweat beading on his brow.

"Qianran..." At last he called out the name that had haunted his heart and soul.

Wei Zhuang and A Chun stood beneath the apricot tree, their clothes dusted with fallen petals. A Chun frowned and asked, "Sir, won’t you tell me what’s going on?"

Wei Zhuang toyed with an apricot blossom, his gaze calm as water. "Her surname is Ye—Ye Qianran. Surely you’ve heard that name before."

A Chun stared at the apricot blossoms in silence.

Zhuge Liuyun did not return until late. He looked exhausted, grass stains all over his clothes, his expression bleak. A Chun said nothing, quietly bringing him hot water to wash his face and setting out a warm meal on the table. Zhuge Liuyun looked up at her, reached out, and embraced her tightly, burying his face in her lap. He held her as if he would never let go. A Chun bit her lip, gently patting his shoulder. He was always so gentle and composed, but never like this—and even now, not for her sake.

Qianran... Qianran... She remembered that name. She had rescued him from the battlefield, and during the half month he lay gravely wounded and unconscious, that was the name he called again and again.

Later, she had asked him about it, but he never spoke of the past.

So it was that woman after all.