Waiting for You for a Long Time, But You Haven't Arrived - Chapter 11

“You must not betray me. I want you to swear a poisonous oath.”

Holding the medicine bottle, Ming Yishu felt a sudden, sharp pang of palpitations before she could even take the pills. She lacked even the strength to open the stopper.

The bottle slipped and rolled away as her vision darkened and her strength failed.

The wound on her back began to burn and sting—perhaps because the medicine applied earlier was starting to take effect. In her weakened state, Ming Yishu failed to notice that Jiang Qionghua had already stepped inside.

The bottle rolled until it hit the hem of Jiang Qionghua’s dark green, gold-embroidered skirt. She leaned down and picked it up.

Ming Yishu leaned against the lacquered crescent table, her thin shoulders trembling slightly as she suffered through the bout of illness. She didn’t know where the bottle had gone; the furniture before her was a blur, and she could only fumble blindly in the opposite direction.

Jiang Qionghua followed her silently. The servants behind her did not enter, and the attendants originally in the room had been quietly ushered out, leaving only the two of them in the vast hall.

Naturally, Ming Yishu could not find the medicine, as it remained clenched in Jiang Qionghua’s palm. The pain grew so severe that after a few steps, she was forced to stop and support herself on the corner of a lute table.

“Does it hurt that much?”

The voice rang out abruptly from behind. Startled, Ming Yishu instinctively tried to recoil, her slender fingers accidentally brushing against the fine strings of the guqin, producing a discordant jangle.

“Open your mouth.”

Jiang Qionghua had never known such pain and could not truly empathize. She poured out a pill, stepped forward to embrace Ming Yishu from behind, and with a forceful motion, tilted her chin back to feed her the medicine.

Driven by a restless irritability, Jiang Qionghua was far from gentle.

Ming Yishu, first startled and then coerced into taking the medicine, felt the pill catch in her throat. Because her mouth had been forced open so abruptly, she nearly choked.

Jiang Qionghua’s fingers brushed against her soft lips. Once the medicine was administered, she took out a handkerchief and wiped away the traces of lip rouge she had touched.

As the lingering vibrations of the lute faded, Ming Yishu’s heart gradually calmed. She regained her senses, realizing her aunt had just fed her a dose.

Usually, she needed three pills. Since this episode was particularly severe, she should have increased the dosage.

“I am in a foul mood and wished to see you.” Jiang Qionghua sat directly in the armchair in Ming Yishu’s room, pulling the girl toward her and signaling for her to sit on her lap. “Is your injury better?”

Ming Yishu had intended to take more medicine, but the interruption sent her heart racing—though the palpitations themselves had eased slightly. In her lethargy, she abandoned the thought of more pills.

It wasn’t like years ago. Combined with the unspeakable thoughts hidden in her heart, Ming Yishu was thin-skinned and awkward; she didn’t know where to put her hands and feet, let alone dare to obey the command to sit on the other’s lap.

She remained standing where she was, speaking softly: “I am grateful for Aunt’s concern. The injury is much better.”

Jiang Qionghua added: “And the palpitations?”

Ming Yishu: “The pain has stopped.”

“Good.” Jiang Qionghua nodded. She didn’t let her continue standing there like a fool; instead, she reached out, wound her arm around the girl’s willow-thin waist, and pulled her into her lap. “Then stay and talk with me.”

Ming Yishu’s face flushed instantly. She blinked her lashes with practiced restraint and rested her hands awkwardly on the other’s shoulders.

“Very well. Please speak, Aunt. Yishu is listening.”

Jiang Qionghua enjoyed touching Ming Yishu, but not as one touches an equal. It was more like stroking a cherished object—petting wherever she pleased without regard for the other’s feelings. Ming Yishu’s waist was so slender it could be spanned by a single hand, and its curves were perfectly alluring. Jiang Qionghua traced those contours from bottom to top, appreciating them inch by inch.

Ming Yishu waited a long time for her to speak, forced to endure the ticklish sensation. Her waist was sensitive, yet that was exactly where the other woman chose to linger, kneading and caressing the area as if unable to let go.

It was an agonizing sensation, yet it didn’t quite feel like an insult.

It was a delicate, complicated feeling. Ming Yishu knew the Prime Minister held no “special” feelings for her; she saw her merely as a junior. Even while performing such intimate and discordant actions, Jiang Qionghua’s eyes lacked even a glimmer of the affection found between lovers.

Ming Yishu dared not hope for more. In her chaotic dreams of the past, she had longed for even a morsel of love from this woman. Even the slightest sign of it would have sustained her joy long after waking.

But extravagant hopes do not come true. Ming Yishu thought that even if her wish were to nearly manifest, the look in the other’s eyes would still lack love—it would be a cross of lust and ambition, but never love.

If she hadn’t resisted that night and had followed the other’s lead, the woman still wouldn’t have acknowledged any emotional bond.

At this thought, the flutter of excitement at being touched turned into sorrow. She bitterly allowed herself to be toyed with, not daring to resist and unable to bring herself to struggle. No matter how ticklish it was, she felt she had no right to interrupt.

Jiang Qionghua loosened her grip, somewhat surprised. This time, the girl was remarkably disciplined, showing no sign of wanting to pull away.

“Why so obedient tonight?” Jiang Qionghua instinctively doubted her intentions, asking half-jokingly, “Have you done something behind my back?”

Ming Yishu’s expression faltered. She remembered her teacher’s parting warning; the matter at the dungeon had likely been exposed.

So, her aunt hadn’t come tonight just because of a “mood”—she had come to interrogate her.

Having witnessed this woman’s methods of interrogation, Ming Yishu felt a surge of fear, even though she trusted that the woman wouldn’t hurt her.

Her voice dropped, sounding slightly hoarse: “Why would Aunt think that?”

“Are you wearing incense? You smell wonderful.” Jiang Qionghua buried her face in the girl’s chest, inhaling deeply and unceremoniously, as if playing with a cat. “I like this scent. You should use it more often.”

Ming Yishu hadn’t used any incense. She didn’t know where the fragrance came from. At this moment, she couldn’t care about such things; under the weight of her nerves, her body stiffened instinctively, and she said nothing more.

thoughts “What are you afraid of?” Jiang Qionghua noticed the girl’s body stiffening. Dissatisfied, she gave the girl’s waist another squeeze. “Relax.”

How could anyone relax? Had it been anyone else under Jiang Qionghua’s overwhelming pressure, they would have collapsed long ago.

Jiang Qionghua seemed entirely unaware of how terrifying she was. Her aura of innate authority made the surrounding atmosphere feel suffocating. Every sentence she uttered was a query, yet it felt like dark, heavy clouds pressing down before a storm, making it difficult even to breathe.

Ming Yishu could not relax.

“You are not allowed to be disobedient.” Jiang Qionghua reached up to stroke Ming Yishu’s waterfall of silken black hair, while simultaneously pressing the back of her head with a firm hand, forcing her to meet her gaze. She said, “You can be wicked, you can act recklessly, you can even do any evil deed as long as it has my consent—but you must never disobey me or betray me. Even if you wanted to enter the palace right now and slit Chu Qing’s throat, I would indulge you.”

The guillotine in her heart dropped. Ming Yishu’s heart sank to the bottom. She finally knew where the strange atmosphere of the night originated: her aunt had indeed traced the trail back to her.

But Ming Yishu did not regret it. Grand Marshal Yang was a crucial, loyal official; he could not be killed. Killing him would cause a chain reaction of trouble for her aunt. As a “transmigrator” into this book world, her mission was to help Jiang Qionghua. She could not stand by and watch her step toward destruction by making the wrong move. She saw things clearly; over the years, using Ji Zijun’s influence, she had done much. She knew the worst-case scenario if Grand Marshal Yang died—it would eventually threaten her aunt’s life.

As long as there was even a shred of possibility, she didn’t dare gamble.

It wasn’t just the fear of failing her mission; she was more afraid of losing the person before her.

Though Jiang Qionghua was not considered a “good person” in the eyes of the world, Ming Yishu loved her—a blind, personal love. She valued Jiang Qionghua’s life and safety more than the woman did herself.

For so many years, Ming Yishu had indulged in the dream the other had woven. Her eyes and heart were full of this woman; she saw her in the present, held her in her heart, and longed for her in her dreams.

Ming Yishu’s fingers curled slightly on the other’s shoulder, wrinkling the fabric. They were so close that, as they locked eyes, Ming Yishu felt a desperate urge to shield that scrutinizing gaze and kiss her lips instead.

She wanted to see if those lips and that tongue were as biting and cold as her heart.

But Ming Yishu didn’t dare. Her surging emotions had been suppressed for years. Many thoughts had taken root and grown in the depths of her soul, yet she never dared to act on them.

Jiang Qionghua could not decipher her gaze. It was too complex—at first glance, it seemed calm, yet paradoxically, it was filled with a heavy, profound emotion.

It was impenetrable.

“Swear to me. Swear that in this life and the next, you will never betray me again.” Jiang Qionghua seemed to have found a reason to soothe her own mind, so she pressed her impatiently. “As long as you swear it, I can be happy.”

Ming Yishu would never abandon Jiang Qionghua, so she asked, “Does Aunt want me to swear a poisonous oath?”

Jiang Qionghua was briefly pleased by the question. “You may.”

“Very well.” Ming Yishu did not hesitate, offering what was, to her, the most lethal curse possible: “Yishu will never betray you. If I break this word—may I never find the one I love in this life; may we be parted forever, never to be reunited.”

“…”

Jiang Qionghua fell silent for a moment and rubbed her brow. “Change it. I don’t like this oath.”

Ming Yishu replied bitterly, “Aunt, this is the most poisonous oath there is.”

If she failed to keep her word, then nothing would have meaning anymore. If she chose to betray Jiang Qionghua, she would fail her mission; the lover she wanted most would become a stranger, and she would lose her ultimate love.

Ming Yishu truly could not think of an oath more cruel than this.

Jiang Qionghua did not push her too hard and eventually relented. “So be it.”

“Unless Yishu dies, this oath will never be fulfilled,” Ming Yishu said, before adding another line: “No… even if I should meet an unfortunate end, I will not break my word.”

Support Waiting for You for a Long Time, But You Haven’t Arrived