Knowing the Warmth of Southern Tea (GL) - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Nan Nuan decided to take the waterway. For her own safety, she arranged for the hidden guards to continue traveling toward Qingzhou by carriage. By splitting the party into two routes, she hoped to reduce the probability of an ambush. She even hired decoys for the waterway, dividing them into three separate paths.

Beyond avoiding ambushes, this strategy also kept a certain distance between her and those following her. Although she knew some of them bore no ill will, she simply didn’t like it. Nan Nuan held a general sense of malice toward the men of the world.

As soon as Wen Cha boarded the boat, she felt dizzy. Some people’s constitutions are simply prone to seasickness—natural-born landlubbers.

“Wen Cha, are you feeling any better?” Nan Nuan asked with concern. Wen Cha’s state was not good. Back in the carriage, she had been lively and noisy, insisting on lying her head on Nan Nuan’s lap, but now she was as wilted as a dying plant.

Wen Cha’s face was pale, and even her smile lacked its usual brilliance. “Nuan Nuan, don’t worry… I’m just a bit dizzy… and I feel like vomiting, that’s all.”

Wen Cha felt like she was experiencing what pregnancy might feel like; she decided she never wanted children in this lifetime. It was truly disgusting. This sensation of needing to vomit but being unable to was the ultimate torture.

Rongrong entered the cabin from outside, carrying a bowl of black medicine for Wen Cha. Wen Cha took it and drank it down, ignoring the bitterness in her haste to suppress the urge to throw up. After Wen Cha drained the bowl, Nan Nuan took it from her.

Though she had drunk the medicine, the nausea only intensified.

“I’ve added something to help you sleep. You should get some rest; by the time you wake up, we’ll be there.” Rongrong took out a handkerchief to wipe Wen Cha’s mouth. She hadn’t expected Wen Cha’s seasickness to be exactly like her Senior Sister’s.

“Okay.” Wen Cha also felt that sleeping through the dizziness was better than enduring it. Within moments, she fell fast asleep.

“Are you worried, Madam?” Nan Nuan asked, seeing the furrow in Rongrong’s brow. She picked up the medicine bowl and carefully traced the patterns on its surface.

“Yes. Miss Nan might not understand, but a mother always frets about the children left at home when she travels.” Looking at Wen Cha made Rongrong think of Xingyue. She wondered how Xingyue was doing and if she was eating properly.

Who says that the heart of an inch-long blade of grass can ever repay the light of the spring sun?

“Miss Xingyue is independent, composed, lively, and adorable. As a mother, you must eventually let your child face the wind and rain alone,” Nan Nuan said with a smile. In truth, Nan Nuan envied Xingyue for having a mother who constantly worried about her. She wondered if her own mother, were she still alive, would worry about her and her brother in the same way.

Rongrong nodded. As a mother, hearing others praise her child made her happy, but she understood Xingyue’s flaws even better. “That may be so, but I still can’t set my heart at ease. If Xingyue had even a third of your wisdom, Miss Nan, I would be content.” A mother does not seek for her child to be prominent or wealthy, only for them to be safe and happy.

Many parents in the world hope for their children to become “dragons and phoenixes” (highly successful). While this is a form of pressure, it is also a beautiful wish. But Rongrong was different; she sought no such grandeur, only peace. This was her own form of open-mindedness.

“You may call me Nan Nuan, Madam. You are so wise; I am sure Miss Xingyue understands your heart,” Nan Nuan flattered. However, she secretly believed that “the stiffest tree is the first to break” and “the tallest tree in the forest is the first to be destroyed by the wind.” Nan Nuan felt Xingyue might not find easy peace; the girl was too uninhibited and prone to being hurt by others. Furthermore, while some saw the Imperial Court as a whirlpool to be escaped, others were like rats seeing grain, flocking toward it.

Rongrong smiled but said nothing more. Silence fell over the room. Rongrong felt an underlying unease. This anxiety didn’t stem from uncertainty about the future, but from a specific worry for Xingyue. Perhaps it was because this was the first time she had been away from Xingyue since the girl was born.

Rongrong tried to console herself with this thought. She hoped it was a mere illusion and that no accidents would occur. She didn’t realize that some words become prophecies, and some premonitions are startlingly accurate.

Even less did she expect that some people had still not given up on trying to kill her child.

Zhuang seemed to have a similar premonition. Alone on a small skiff, he looked toward Bingzhou and ultimately decided to let go. A child must grow up eventually, no matter the cost.

If the cost was of one’s own making, so be it—but if it were someone else’s scheme…

…

Xingyue was still living freely in Bingzhou, unaware of her parents’ worries. Even if she had known, it likely wouldn’t have affected her. Xingyue had always been fearless, meeting soldiers with generals and floods with earth.

The conspiracy against Xingyue had begun; the gears of fate turned relentlessly.

…

Meanwhile, in the Capital, Nan Wei was still contemplating the road ahead. On the chessboard before him, black and white pieces intertwined. He suddenly remembered the day he played against the Crown Prince. A flower petal drifted onto the board. Nan Wei picked it up and sniffed it, only to find it had drifted in the wind too long and lost its fragrance.

The bitter winter had passed and early spring had arrived, yet a chill remained in the air.

Dong Yi silently replaced the cold tea on the table with hot tea. Nan Wei stared at the petal, lost in thought.

“Gather the blossoms while you may; do not wait until there are no flowers to break the branch,” Dong Yi’s voice came from behind him.

“Yes… gather them while you may,” Nan Wei murmured, still unable to make a final decision. Schemes and plots—how should he choose? Seeing Nan Wei lost in confusion once more, Dong Yi said nothing further.

Young Master, no matter what decision you make, the outcome will not change.

Dong Yi had followed Nan Wei since he was young. Bought as a maid for the Nan household, she was a chess piece planted at his side. The Crown Prince had been setting this board for so many years; how could he let go now?

The Young Master possessed the wisdom of a demon, but he was far too indecisive. In this world, how can one achieve anything if they are always looking over their shoulder?

At times, Nan Wei was not as cold-hearted as Nan Nuan, nor as decisive as the Crown Prince. But it was exactly this Nan Wei who deserved to be treated with tenderness. How could anyone easily let go of someone who could choose not to do certain things or say certain words, yet did them for the sake of others, even if it meant getting hurt themselves?

And who wouldn’t want to pull such clear moonlight into their arms?

Nan Wei didn’t know Dong Yi’s thoughts, but he knew he was being too hesitant. Yet, “one knows not where love begins, but it grows ever deeper.”

How can some things be severed just like that? From the time he was chosen as A-Che’s study partner as a child until now… many years of affection…

He remembered the A-Che of the past—small and cute. A-Che couldn’t compare to Nan Wei, who was precocious. Nan Wei had treated being a study partner as a mere job, acting quite perfunctorily toward the little “dumpling” Crown Prince. The Prince was naturally mischievous and hated studying.

When the Prince made a mistake, the study partner suffered. Nan Wei had his palms whipped. He only remembered the little dumpling crying as he apologized and applied medicine to his wounds. From that day on, the Crown Prince never made another mistake in his studies…

Perhaps it was then that Nan Wei decided to protect him.

Nan Wei was not born weak. It was during a state banquet one year when he was pushed into icy water. His body was ravaged by the cold, and he could never again practice martial arts. This was the truth the world believed. But if one were pushed into water and rescued immediately, how could their body be so ruined?

That year, someone wanted to kill A-Che. It was Nan Wei who forced A-Che to swap clothes with him…

Later, A-Che’s mother was framed. Before she died, she entrusted A-Che to him…

Do not speak of the past; perhaps he was getting old. Otherwise, why would he be reminiscing so much?