After the Alluring Beauty Was Forced into a Political Marriage - Chapter 35

In the year Shen Lianzhi turned nineteen, the war between the Great Zhou and the state of Xia raged like a wildfire. The Xia army’s offensive was fierce, driving the Zhou forces into a steady retreat. The Emperor of Zhou was so consumed by fury that he coughed up fresh blood, nearly departing this mortal coil.

The concubines in the rear palace wept day and night, and the Empress Dowager fell ill from worry. It was June, yet the once flourishing Imperial Garden withered overnight, leaving only scattered petals and desolation. In the Penglai Pond, the lotus flowers that should have been in full bloom remained tightly shut, their emerald leaves yellowing at the edges. Disturbed by these ominous signs, Princess Royal Huayang personally invited the abbot of Qingshan Nunnery to perform a ritual, but the abbot only shook his head in silence.

Months later, Zhou suffered a crushing defeat, losing two strategic cities. The Emperor sent a letter of peace, and the then living Great Chanyu, Suhe, proposed a marriage alliance to halt the war. Thus, the Emperor was forced to endure the pain of sending his only princess, Lianzhi, to the Great Xia.

By then, winter had arrived. Snow began to fall over the city of Chang’an, yet, miraculously, the lotus flowers in the Penglai Pond bloomed. At that time, Lianzhi was leaning against Lu Jingce, reading a book and yawning repeatedly. As he turned a page, Xiao Anzi rushed in, gasping, “Your Highness! My Lord, something incredible has happened! The lotus flowers in the Penglai Pond have bloomed!”

Lianzhi glanced at the charcoal heater in the hall and giggled. “Xiao Anzi, what nonsense are you talking? It is snowing outside; how could lotuses bloom?”

“It is true! It is really true!”

Lianzhi was about to tease him further when Lu Jingce, sitting beside him, spoke. He reached out to take the crumpled book from Lianzhi’s hand and said gently, “The blooming of lotuses is a good omen. Lianzhi, would you like to go see? It is better than falling asleep over your books, hm?”

Lianzhi’s face flushed. He and Lu Jingce followed Xiao Anzi toward the Penglai Pond. Lotus flowers blooming in the depths of winter was unheard of. The news spread like wildfire through the palace, and soon a crowd gathered by the pond to witness this rare marvel. When the palace servants saw them, they bowed and dispersed.

Lianzhi leaned against the white jade railing, peering into the pond. Indeed, stalks of lotus stood tall and elegant in the water, their leaves a vivid, succulent green. He turned and tugged at Lu Jingce’s sleeve, exclaiming excitedly, “Brother, look!”

Snow fell upon the pink petals; it was a sight of peerless beauty. Lianzhi’s heart hammered in his chest. He reached out to pluck a twin lotus flower that was closest to him, but it remained just out of reach. He leaned most of his body out over the railing, but he still could not touch it.

As Lianzhi fretted, he suddenly felt the air beneath his feet. Someone had lifted him up. Lianzhi turned his head. “Cousin?”

“Do not be afraid,” Lu Jingce said with a smile. “Go ahead and pluck it. I will not let you fall into the water.”

Lianzhi beamed and reached out, successfully snapping the stem. But before he could be pulled back behind the railing, he felt the grip on his waist loosen. He began to tumble toward the pond. “Ah!”

He flailed his arms and squeezed his eyes shut. Just as he thought he would plunge into the freezing water, a strong force jerked him back safely behind the railing. He heard Lu Jingce’s mischievous laughter. “See? I told you I would not let you fall.”

“Hah, hah,” it took Lianzhi a long moment to steady his racing heart. Angry at his cousin for teasing him, he glared at Lu Jingce, refused to speak, and turned to walk away.

“Lianzhi? Do you not want this lotus anymore?”

Shen Lianzhi kept walking, not giving him a single glance.

“Lianzhi? Lianzhi?”

Shen Lianzhi snapped back huffily, “I do not want it!”

The man behind him paused and was silent for a long time. Thinking Lu Jingce had stopped following, Lianzhi hesitantly stole a look back. Lu Jingce was standing right behind him, cradling the lotus in his arms, a faint curve on his lips as if he had expected the turnaround.

“You can be angry, but you still cannot bear to leave me, can you?” Lu Jingce asked softly.

A thin blush crept over Lianzhi’s face. He twisted his fingers together, hiding them within his wide sleeves. Lu Jingce did not miss the nervous gesture. With a low chuckle, he stepped forward and placed the twin lotus in Lianzhi’s arms. Lianzhi looked up at him, and Lu Jingce recited a verse, “Plucking lilies in the South Pond during autumn, the lotus flowers rise above one’s head; I lower my head to play with the lotus seeds, seeds as clear as the water.”

His gaze, as clear and shallow as moonlight, fell upon Lianzhi. Lianzhi’s face burned even hotter. Lu Jingce placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look up. “Lianzhi, do you know what kind of poem this is?”

It was the “Xizhou Melody” from the Southern Dynasties; it was a poem of courtship. “Lotus seeds,” lianzi, was a homophone for “pitying or loving the child,” lian zi. Lianzhi’s breathing grew shallow, and his heart beat like a drum. He dared not imagine if his brother felt the same. But before he could clear his muddled thoughts, his lips were covered. It was a shallow, gentle kiss, as fleeting as a dragonfly skimming the water. Lu Jingce gazed at him softly, saying nothing more, but everything he wanted to say was in that kiss.

On that day, when snow fell and lotuses bloomed, Shen Lianzhi finally gained what his heart desired.

Shen Lianzhi lay beside Shiqin Bari, staring up at the dark roof of the tent. His mind was consumed by the painting Lu Jingce had tucked into his sleeve before leaving, and by the memories of the past. He covered his face with his hands. He remembered the thrill, the vows, and every single detail as if it were happening now. His heart beat so violently that the wolf tooth pendant hanging against his chest rose and fell. The sharp tip of the tooth pricked his skin; it was a stinging pain that felt like a punishment or a warning.

Lianzhi sighed and turned to look at Shiqin Bari one last time. He then carefully moved the arm that was draped across his belly. He was incredibly cautious, but Shiqin Bari seemed to sense something; his brows knitted slightly, and his breathing hitched. Lianzhi froze, holding his breath. After waiting for a long time and seeing no further movement, Lianzhi finally felt safe. He sat up quietly, parted the bed curtains, and slipped off the couch. He dressed in the dark, took one last look at the bed, and crept out of the Royal Tent.

Without alerting anyone, he found his horse by the starlight. He patted its head. “Subuda? Subuda?”

Subuda tossed its head and snorted. Knowing it was awake, Lianzhi mounted the horse and flicked the whip. “Jia!”

He was on edge the entire way, fearing he would be discovered. Fortunately, he was now familiar with the path from the court to Mount Utuken. Since the distance was short, he arrived quickly.

“Lianzhi,” Lu Jingce’s voice rang out through the thick night. Shen Lianzhi dismounted and landed right in front of him. Lu Jingce’s lips curved slightly. He reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair at Lianzhi’s temple. “Why are you alone? Xiao Anzi,”

“I am alone,” Lianzhi said.

Lu Jingce’s hand froze in mid-air, and the smile on his lips faded. He looked down at Lianzhi, his gaze turning as dark and heavy as stagnant water; it was gloomy and terrifying. Yet, because he was shrouded in shadows, the night hid the sinister obsession in his eyes.

“Why, Lianzhi?” Lu Jingce asked in a low voice.

Shen Lianzhi looked away, his heart twisted with pain, but he had no words to answer. Lu Jingce took a deep breath, his hands trembling at his sides. He stared at Lianzhi’s slender neck, and for a moment, he felt an impulse to choke him. His own heart felt as though a sword had pierced it.

How did it come to this? Lu Jingce thought. How did it come to this? Shen Lianzhi, who had revolved around him since the age of eight, who never defied him, his sweet Lianzhi, how could he betray him? How could he choose that barbarian over him? Why?

Lu Jingce could not understand. For the first time in his life, he felt the weight of powerlessness. “Where is Shiqin Bari better than me?” he asked hoarsely. “Did you not hate the grasslands? Did you not hate him? Why, after only half a year, has your heart turned toward him?”

Lu Jingce leaned down slightly, looking into Lianzhi’s eyes with equal sorrow. “Did I not tell you to remember? You were meant to marry me. Now I can take you away. I can make us one again. Come back with me, and we will be as we were before. That is how it was meant to be!”

His eyes were bottomless; they were a vortex threatening to pull Lianzhi in. Lianzhi looked at him, feeling his very soul tremble. The beast he had been forced to lock deep within his heart began to grow restless, roaring and lunging at the gates. Something was about to break free. Lianzhi instinctively took a step forward.

Lu Jingce reached out his hand. “Do you not know? In this world, only your brother truly loves you and is good to you. Lianzhi, Lianzhi, be good. No one will love you more than I do. Come back to me. You are my Khatun. You must stay by my side forever.”

Perhaps the night was too dark for Lianzhi to see clearly. In his mind, the faces of Lu Jingce and Shiqin Bari flickered back and forth. Two invisible, forceful powers tore at him. Lianzhi began to cry. “Brother, but we cannot go back to the past.”

From the moment he stepped into the bridal sedan for the peace marriage to Great Xia, everything was destined. It could not be overturned. He could not. In this life, he was destined to be Shiqin Bari’s wife, the Khatun of the grasslands.

Lu Jingce was silent for a long time. Then he stood tall and looked at Lianzhi with a gaze like a sharp blade, carving out Lianzhi’s heart. “Is it that we cannot go back? Or is it that you are unwilling?”

Shen Lianzhi broke into uncontrollable sobs. Lu Jingce looked at him and let out a long sigh. He stepped closer. “Lianzhi has grown up. He no longer wants his brother.”

“No, that is not it,” Shen Lianzhi shook his head, weeping. “I did not say I did not want you.”

Lu Jingce leaned down and pressed his cool lips against Lianzhi’s forehead; it was a trembling kiss that filled Lianzhi with fear. It felt as though something was slipping through his fingers, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not grasp it. Lianzhi instinctively grabbed Lu Jingce’s arm. Lu Jingce moved his kiss from the forehead to the lips.

Lianzhi knew he should pull away, but his feet felt rooted to the spot. Lu Jingce’s hand supported his lower back. Shen Lianzhi was shaking. “Brother, I, ah!”

Before he could finish, an arrow pierced the wind, flying directly toward the embracing pair. Lu Jingce’s eyes sharpened, and he pulled Lianzhi aside just in time. Lianzhi turned his head sharply and froze, his face turning deathly pale.

The man standing behind them was tall, his hair tied high. His face was handsome and arrogant; it was undeniably a striking appearance, but at this moment, it sent a chill down the spine.

It was Shiqin Bari.

It was Shiqin Bari!

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