Chapter 94: Revenge

Ye Qianran woke to the gentle patter of rain outside the window. Wei Zhuang was absent from her side. She rose, dressed herself with care, and noticed a letter on the table. Opening it with faint curiosity, she recognized Wei Zhuang's elegant handwriting: "You woke. I truly wish to see your current appearance. Three years ago, you departed from me in this manner, and now I shall leave you in this way. Beyond those words, everything last night was false. I shall cherish those words forever, for I know I can never speak to anyone thus again." Beneath it lay the divorce letter she had once written: "Each shall wed and marry separately, bound by a hundred years of strangers."

The paper drifted down like autumn leaves.

The rain grew heavier.

Qingfeng met Wei Zhuang on the winding path up the mountain. He advanced beneath an umbrella through the veil of mist and sudden downpour, his dark robes stark against the shadowed emerald peaks. Wei Zhuang offered a polite nod, yet his stride did not falter. As their shoulders brushed, Qingfeng glanced back and could not resist asking, "Mr. Wei, where is Qianran? Was she not with you?"

Wei Zhuang whirled around, eyes locking onto him before drifting to the serpentine mountain trail lost in the hazy rain. It struck him as if awakening from a dream, an endless dread flooding his senses. He cast aside the umbrella and fled upward in a frantic dash.

Qingfeng watched his silhouette vanish into the swirling mists, bewildered.

Wei Zhuang reached the small courtyard, rain streaming from his collar in steady drips. The room stood empty as when he had departed, yet she was gone. His letter lay crumpled on the floor.

He turned and stepped outside. She had to be on the mountain. If she remained here, he would find her.

Without pause, he knocked sharply on A Chun's door.

Zhuge Liuyun opened it beneath his umbrella, stunned by the disheveled, drenched man before him. Wei Zhuang had no regard for past grievances; his sole desire was to locate her. He would grant anything if it meant finding her again. He had already lost her once three years past; he could not lose her twice.

Zhuge Liuyun shook his head. "She is not here."

"She is not here."

Terror swelled within him, boundless. He turned once more and searched the village lanes, but her form eluded him. Wei Zhuang slumped to the ground like a shattered bone, powerless.

Her lingering scent filled the room, yet she had vanished.

The heavens stretched vast and desolate. He bolted out again and hurried to the rear of the house. Behind the house rose an apricot tree, encircled by thickets of purple yang flowers. Rain-soaked butterflies danced upon the vibrant blooms.

At once, Wei Zhuang glimpsed the faint purple silhouette curled beneath the tree, arms wrapped tightly around herself, apricot petals scattered at her feet. He approached slowly, kneeling before her. He watched in silence.

Ye Qianran lifted her gaze and struck him across the face. Wei Zhuang reached for her embrace, only to be shoved away. Resentment boiled from her core. She struck him relentlessly, wildly, each blow fueled by fury and tears that mingled with the rain soaking the earth. Wei Zhuang cupped her face and kissed her fiercely, a torrent of shared hatred and unforgiving passion. Neither had spared the other, nor circled around the other.

He held her face and kissed her with unrelenting force.

His cold cheek brushed hers and settled upon her warm neck. Wei Zhuang drew her close, eyes shut, tears escaping in silent rivulets.

She was drawn into his arms. Her fists battered his back with growing weakness until they clasped each other tightly. Tears were precious, fragile gifts. He held her; she held him, as the rain intensified.

This instant born of three years' separation revealed to me the anguish of abandonment. You finally comprehend my reluctance to depart.

We have at last learned mutual understanding in this love.

Never betrayed.

Ye Qianran sat upon the bedside, his hand enclosing hers. Wei Zhuang gazed up at her, eyes luminous, voice low and tender: "Shall we wed, my dear?"

Ye Qianran lowered her eyes in silence.

Wei Zhuang kissed her hand. "It shall be our marriage, known to all that you are my wife. Marry me, will you?"

Ye Qianran met his eyes, beholding the fervent light within and the steadfast resolve beneath.

Wei Zhuang continued, "Reflect deeply before replying. Regardless of your answer, I hope you will not regret this."

"I accept. Let us marry." Ye Qianran spoke without hesitation, no longer needing to ponder.

Wei Zhuang smiled softly, fingers still intertwined. "Have you considered it fully? No regrets?"

Ye Qianran clasped his hand. "I am twenty this year. I know my desires and my fears. What I lost three years ago, I refuse to relinquish again. Even should the outcome disappoint, even if one day you cast me aside, I wish to try."

Wei Zhuang embraced her gently.