Waiting for You for a Long Time, But You Haven't Arrived - Chapter 41.1

Ming Yishu shrieked as if she had gone mad

There is a type of person in this world who clearly appears cold-blooded, ruthless, and unfeeling, yet unexpectedly becomes utterly shameless when they decide to pester someone.

Ming Yishu not only failed to push the other woman away but was forcibly pinned in her embrace, unable to move—like trapped prey, stripped of all dignity and freedom.

She felt a profound sense of powerlessness.

Jiang Qionghua would never learn how to treat people as equals or how to love sincerely. That woman was a thoroughbred madwoman, a haughty ancient ruler. More than a thousand years of time and space stood between them; their logic and thoughts could never align. They… should never have been together.

Ming Yishu had long since abandoned the idea of trying to find common ground. She lacked the ability to civilize a noble from a feudal background into a gentle, ordinary lover—especially one with such a crazed and paranoid temperament.

She could not do it.

She no longer wished to be entangled with her.

“Jiang Qionghua, I am tired,” Ming Yishu said weakly, unable to break free. “I beg of you, please let me go. I don’t want to go back and continue this mutual torment.”

Jiang Qionghua’s expression turned terrifyingly dark, a premonition of an approaching storm.

Ming Yishu continued, “If you want to be angry, then be angry. I know you have a foul temper. If I return with you, it won’t be good for you to constantly suppress it in front of me. It must be exhausting to pretend. If you allow me to leave, there will be no one left to provoke your anger at every turn.”

“My temper is very good,” Jiang Qionghua lied against her conscience. “I have reserved all my good temper for you. As long as you return with me, I can go a lifetime without being angry with you. Whatever you say is right; I will listen to you. If you think I am pretending… then I can pretend for a lifetime.”

“There is no ‘lifetime’ left between us. I will not stay in this place any longer,” Ming Yishu said. “Jiang Qionghua, my life is reaching its end, so it matters little if I tell you this—Ji Zijun and I come from the same place. Where we are from, lovers without ‘official status’ can part at any time. If one person truly wishes to leave, according to the law, the other cannot forcibly restrain them.”

Jiang Qionghua’s grip on Ming Yishu tightened unconsciously. The more she heard, the colder her heart became, as if she were walking through wind and snow in thin clothes—cold and lonely. Previously, she hadn’t known of Ming Yishu’s past; she had only thought there was some connection between her and Ji Zijun. Now, hearing from Ming Yishu’s own lips that they came from the same place, she felt even more adrift.

It turned out that the entanglement between Ming Yishu and Ji Zijun was not merely what it seemed on the surface. There were many things, akin to gods, ghosts, and metaphysics, that she, Jiang Qionghua, had never heard of.

She was like an outsider, consistently excluded by the two of them. When Ji Zijun—or Tang Guangjun, as he was then—betrayed and deceived her, he must have been able to do so with such ruthlessness only because he never considered her one of his own kind.

Jiang Qionghua inexplicably thought of the merchants who came to the capital from remote regions. Those people were always so slick and treacherous when cooperating with others, yet they reserved their rare sincerity for their fellow townsmen. They shared a homeland, and their hearts were exceptionally close, leaving no room for outsiders to intervene.

“So, as long as she is here, you will never listen to my words, correct?” Jiang Qionghua looked down at Ming Yishu, her tone gradually filling with murderous intent.

Ming Yishu frowned—the woman still hadn’t listened to a word she said, focusing instead on something irrelevant.

This person was as headstrong and opinionated as ever, never considering Ming Yishu’s thoughts or words, blindly suspicious and finding fault with everyone.

“At this point, is there any need for suspicion?” Ming Yishu let her hands drop, exhausted. “I have said it before: I do not want to be caught in the struggle between you two any longer.”

“Fine, I know. It is all her fault.” Jiang Qionghua held Ming Yishu tightly, her cheek pressed against the other’s face as if she wanted to crush her into her embrace. She coaxed in a low voice, “I do not blame you. All the fault lies with her. If she didn’t exist, we could still return to the way we were at the beginning.”

We can’t go back, Ming Yishu thought.

But she could not reason with an abnormal madwoman. It was obvious that Jiang Qionghua couldn’t hear her; it was as if saying “no” would cause the woman to snap instantly. A quarrel would be a minor issue; if this person lost her mind, things wouldn’t settle until blood was spilled.

Ming Yishu fell silent.

“I searched for you every day, and I haven’t closed my eyes for a long time. But I dare not close them; whenever I do, I have nightmares. I dream that you will never return. Every time I think of it, my heart feels as if it’s being twisted by a knife,” Jiang Qionghua said. “Your health is poor, so do not run about. I have brought Xuan Ji to treat your illness. In the future, even if Ji Zijun dies, there will be medicine for your heart condition. It won’t take long for you to recover, and you can stay by my side forever.”

Xuan Ji interjected at the appropriate moment, “When the Chancellor was searching for you to bring you home, she had me follow her at all times, fearing you might be injured on the way.”

Jiang Qionghua had planned thoroughly, and as she suspected, Ji Zijun was no good at all, having indeed forced Ming Yishu to take poison.

She had fought that person for many years; they had long ago gauged each other’s capabilities. She was no longer the young girl of sixteen years ago. Now, she would not show mercy; once she acted, it would surely take Ji Zijun’s life.

This land was her domain; this era was her world. She could cover the sky with one hand and snatch a life back from the King of Hell.

Anyone she marked for death would certainly not survive until dawn.

She wanted Ji Zijun dead!

Ji Zijun wanted to use Ming Yishu to pressure her, so she would feign falling for the trap. Since this was a game of chess, there had to be a back-and-forth.

Jiang Qionghua looked out of the carriage with a sinister expression, mocking the fact that the person was still using the same shoddy tactics from six years ago. People change—so what if Tang Guangjun could not be killed? No manner of ghosts or gods could block her resolve to kill her opponent.

“I have found sorcerers with supernatural abilities; Ji Zijun will not return to life so easily. Rest assured, I will not allow her to use those lowly methods to provoke you again. No one will disturb us in the future.” Jiang Qionghua did not even look at Xuan Ji inside the carriage. Disregarding everyone, she leaned down, pinched Ming Yishu’s chin, and kissed her heavily. “Go nowhere. Wait for me here for the duration of two sticks of incense.”

Ming Yishu looked at Xuan Ji blankly, confirming that there was indeed another person present. However, the white-haired, white-bearded divine physician was playing deaf and mute, averting his gaze and pretending he had seen nothing.

Ming Yishu hadn’t expected her to suddenly act out and kiss her in front of others. That kiss lacked any sense of lust; to put it bluntly, it was like a large dog she once owned suddenly lunging to lick her face when she came home—clumsy and forceful, filled with raw emotion.

By the time she regained her senses, Jiang Qionghua had already stepped out of the carriage and was heading toward the Kang Manor with a group of subordinates in a whirlwind of activity.

After Jiang Qionghua left, Xuan Ji instinctively stood guard at the carriage exit. “Lady, do not move about. I just gave you medicine to neutralize the effects of the poison. This process takes time. If you move too much, residual poison may remain in your body.”

Jiang Qionghua was deeply suspicious, so she acted with meticulous care. Currently, the person guarding her was certainly not just this doctor; there were likely many eyes watching outside the carriage. Ming Yishu understood this and knew she could not leave.

She nodded silently in response.

After an unknown amount of time, Ming Yishu suddenly heard a great commotion outside. The scent of blood permeated the night; even inside the carriage, she could smell the heavy odor of gore.

She had been in this ancient world for six years, yet she still could not adapt to a civilization that killed people at the drop of a hat. In this setting, class hierarchy was starkly apparent; there was no difference to the nobility between killing a human and killing a bird. Perhaps the people here were used to it and thought nothing of it—some would even go to the marketplace to watch a beheading for entertainment.

But Ming Yishu could not stand it. Every time she encountered a scene of bloodshed, she would break out in a cold sweat. Regardless of whether the death was gruesome, the sight of a fellow human’s corpse filled her with grief and terror.

Back in the real world, seeing a dead animal by the side of the road would make her feel uneasy for a long time, let alone the current situation where she was witnessing people being killed with her own eyes.

Waves of nausea and heartburn washed over Ming Yishu; she couldn’t help but want to gag.

She clutched her chest, unable to escape the metallic stench of blood no matter what she did.

The time for two sticks of incense passed, and the noise outside finally lessened. Ming Yishu closed her eyes to soothe the panic in her heart. Only after sensing that everything had gone quiet did she open them—what met her eyes was a hand lifting the curtain, its fingers stained with blood.

Jiang Qionghua did not enter the carriage. Instead, she stood outside, looking at her with great joy. “Yishu, I have captured her. Come and see.”

This joy was real and intense, exactly how the wolf cub, Heyi, looked when it came to boast of its achievements to Ming Yishu—eyes shining brightly, looking ecstatic.

Ming Yishu looked at Jiang Qionghua. The woman stood before her, wild and domineering, her beautiful face splashed with blood. Behind her was a mass of dark-clad soldiers with drawn swords, lined up with this woman at their head, all silently waiting for their Chancellor.

This beautiful yet cold-hearted official of power looked at her without blinking. The sky had turned dark, and the soldiers had lit torches. The flickering flames cast a shimmering light in Jiang Qionghua’s eyes; her gaze was like a lake under the moon that could reflect a person’s shadow, and it was filled entirely with her.

“You…”

Ming Yishu did not know how to comment or how to speak.

Jiang Qionghua was dressed magnificently in a deep green robe with gold-woven lapels and intricate head ornaments. The blood splattered across her did not look out of place at all; instead, it seemed like an even more vivid embellishment, accentuating her aura of power.

Ming Yishu looked at her face. A smear of blood began below Jiang Qionghua’s dark pupil, trailed past the corner of her mouth, and reached her chin. Every time she smiled, the blood formed an arc, lending her an air of obsessive madness.

This person looked like a glamorous ghost who had just harvested a life—proud, triumphant, coming to her to boast of her deeds.

Blood was splattered on her profile, and a drop had landed on the bridge of her nose. On her high nasal bone, it looked like a peach blossom beauty mark. Jiang Qionghua lowered her chin and looked up at her with a smile, her thick, long eyelashes unable to hide the triumph in her eyes.

Too mad.

Truly a madwoman.

“Come—”

Jiang Qionghua reached out her other, clean hand to help her down from the carriage. Her gaze shifted freely, and the gold filigree earrings she wore swayed with her movement.

Ming Yishu’s life had always been beyond her own control. She was forcibly taken to see Ji Zijun. Although she had a vague sense that Ji Zijun’s end would be grim and had prepared herself mentally, when she actually witnessed the scene before her, she was still so stunned her soul nearly left her body.

Ji Zijun had been captured and was held in the courtyard of the Kang Manor. Beneath her feet were bundles of dry wood pointing toward the sky, and she was tied to a stake as if being sacrificed in some ancient ritual. Her black hair had been cut, and the long tresses hung over her face… but that was not the most important thing. The most important thing was… when that person lifted her face and the night wind blew her hair aside, it revealed a face covered in blood, and a mouth that had been sewn shut with thick thread.

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