Wanqing bid farewell to her elder brother and Qingfeng, accompanied by the two maids Honglian, and arrived at the residence of Prince Ji half an hour later.
“He is in his room. You may go and see him if you wish.”
It was Prince Ji who opened the door, his gaze falling upon the woman who had caused his son to age ten years in an instant. Though she carried an air of noble grace and was a princess of the Great Ming, he couldn’t help but resent her—because of her, his son had sacrificed ten years of his youth and even lost all his inner strength.
Prince Ji had his grievances against Wanqing, but she was still a princess. His son had been his pride, his only pride in life. Yet for her, he had given up everything. Now, he was merely an ordinary man. Though Prince Ji lamented all that his son had lost for her, and though his son now held the prestigious title of Imperial Prince of the Great Ming, higher in status than before, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any joy in her presence.
After a moment of hesitation, he sighed softly and instructed a servant to lead them inside.
“Let’s go.” Sensing Prince Ji’s displeasure and reluctance, Wanqing felt a flicker of irritation. But remembering all that his son had sacrificed for her, she suppressed her frustration and the hostility in his eyes. Softly addressing her two maids, she stepped down from the carriage, took their hands, and followed the servant inside.
“Princess, the Young Master is inside.”
The servant led Wanqing directly to the courtyard where Leng Mingye usually resided. Seeing Qingfeng and Baiyu standing guard at the door, the servant bowed respectfully and withdrew.
“Princess…”
Though Qingfeng and Baiyu were well aware of their master’s feelings for her, they couldn’t help but blame her for his losses. Though his noble title remained, he had lost all his inner strength. Their expressions darkened as they reluctantly stepped aside, turning to softly alert the man reclining inside.
“Qing’er, you’ve come. All of you, leave us.”
Leng Mingye, who had lost both his inner strength and ten years of his youth, lay languidly on the couch, his arm bandaged. Yet at her arrival, his face lit with rare joy. Noticing Qingfeng and Baiyu’s hostility, he smiled faintly and dismissed them.
“Go.”
Though Qingfeng resented his master’s sacrifices for Wanqing and couldn’t understand why he, who had once valued his status and martial prowess so deeply, now seemed indifferent to their loss, he exchanged a glance with Baiyu and reluctantly left.
“You two may leave as well. Leng Mingye, how could you be so foolish? For me, you lost ten years of your youth and all your inner strength. Don’t you regret it? We are cousins, yet you gave up everything for me. You…”
Wanqing observed Qingfeng and Baiyu’s cold expressions but remained composed. After dismissing her maids, she turned to Leng Mingye, her heart aching. Seeing the strand of white hair at his temple, her eyes welled with tears.
“Silly girl, don’t cry. What’s the loss of inner strength and ten years of effort? I can rebuild it all. But without you, I’d be in agony, hating myself forever. If I could have saved you and didn’t, watching you slip away—how could I ever be happy?”
Seeing her rare display of emotion, her usually calm and perceptive eyes now brimming with tears, Leng Mingye felt a pang of sorrow for his own losses, yet his heart swelled with warmth.
He had long consoled himself—what did it matter if he lost his martial prowess? Without her, his life would have been hollow. More importantly, without her, he wouldn’t even be alive today.
As tears spilled from her eyes, he gently took her hand, his gaze earnest.
“But… we’re cousins. How can you—”
Despite his rare joy at seeing her, Wanqing couldn’t ignore the weight of their familial ties.
“Silly girl, have you forgotten? Your uncle said I bear no resemblance to my father—that I look like an old acquaintance of his. Once I clarify this, there will be no barrier between us, right?”
Leng Mingye recalled the moment he pulled her from the lake—her drenched form, her lifeless pallor. Even now, the memory chilled him.
Her usual defiance and wild spirit had been replaced by utter fragility, as if she might vanish with the slightest breeze. Seeing her now, alive and whole before him, he tightened his grip on her hand.
“I know, but… what if it’s not true? I—” Though he spoke lightly, and though she trusted her uncle’s words, doubt still gnawed at her.
“Don’t worry. Your uncle wouldn’t be mistaken. The only difficulty is asking my father. You know how things stand between us. I was once his pride, but now, for you, I’ve lost everything. I…”
Her unease pained him. He squeezed her hand, thinking of his father’s reaction since his return.
“I understand. I truly do.”
Seeing his rare uncertainty, Wanqing’s heart ached. She could only nod tearily, unable to voice her thoughts.
“But rest assured, I will find out. If we’re not related, we can be together openly. Don’t dwell on it. Even if we remain siblings, my heart will still beat for you—unless you reject me.”
Her guilt and fear twisted his heart. Though their uncertain status troubled him too, he met her gaze firmly. With deep affection, he pressed her hand to his cheek, as if the touch alone could soothe her.
“Leng Mingye… why are you so good to me?”
Tears welled again as she looked at him. The question that had haunted her these days finally spilled out—why did he endure so much for her, when she couldn’t even voice her own doubts?
(To be continued…)
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