Waiting for You for a Long Time, But You Haven't Arrived - Chapter 7

This is a play centered around her

Jiang Qionghua dragged the person away, her eyes bone-chillingly cold, her movements brooking no argument, practically pulling the other party forward.

If it were anyone else being treated this way, they would have likely stumbled long ago, but Ming Yishu did not. Though her steps were less steady than usual due to the abrupt pull, she showed no sign of distress.

Her sleeves and skirt hems fluttered in the wind, like an immortal riding the wind and returning, following closely behind Jiang Qionghua. She didn’t seem to be walking, but rather lightly and gracefully drifting with the breeze.

She neither cried nor made a fuss, simply following the person tightly.

It wasn’t until Jiang Qionghua’s temper was extinguished by the cold winter that she gently squeezed the other’s fingers in return: “Aunt.”

Jiang Qionghua’s chaotic fury was cleared by this soft call.

As if someone had awakened her from a nightmare, Jiang Qionghua no longer held her so tightly, but lessened her grip, turning her head calmly to glance at Ming Yishu.

Even now, amidst such haste and urgency, the person before her remained (serene and pristine). Just one look was enough to have one’s soul captured by this beauty. Her gaze was silent and clear, always making it hard to continue blaming her.

Ming Yishu called out again: “Aunt.”

Jiang Qionghua was silent, then responded: “Hmm.”

Ming Yishu knew the other party’s anger had subsided somewhat and that she could now listen to her words, so she briefly explained the misunderstanding from earlier.

Jiang Qionghua turned her head to glance at the archers lying in ambush along the city wall path and said faintly, “It was my fault. Don’t take it to heart.”

Ming Yishu was somewhat surprised. She had merely been explaining just now and hadn’t hoped that the other party would feel guilty. She hadn’t expected to receive such a soft word.

Although it was just a light phrase, her heart still warmed.

“Aunt, are we leaving the palace and returning to the manor?” Ming Yishu’s gaze remained fervent, meeting the other party with complete cheerfulness. She took out the jade flute she had been carefully hiding, and opened her mouth with joy, “Yishu received the jade flute bestowed by Aunt today and is overjoyed. I really want to play it for Aunt to hear.”

Only after she said this did Jiang Qionghua condescend to look at the jade flute—she had long forgotten when this happened. Among ornaments and beautiful objects, she detested jade the most, so she must have just casually given an order back then to find a way to dispose of the item.

Jiang Qionghua, self-assured as an elder, found Ming Yishu’s somewhat naive and childish words utterly boring.

Jiang Qionghua perfunctorily acknowledged her, then looked ahead. They had already walked into the deep, narrow passage. This place used to be the only path out of the palace. The gray walls stood tall and silent, easily giving rise to dark thoughts.

She recalled that she had cornered Tang Guangjun right here, driving a sword through his heart and pinning him firmly to the ground.

Jiang Qionghua walked slowly closer, stopping on the familiar brick ground.

She looked down contemptuously, as if she could still see the bloodstains from six years ago, so red, so vivid and beautiful.

Beside her was Ming Yishu’s voice, but Jiang Qionghua, trapped in her memories, couldn’t hear it clearly. The sound seemed to be separated by misty clouds, hazy and indistinct, constantly lingering by her ear.

Annoying.

As the voice got a little closer, Jiang Qionghua impatiently raised her hand, attempting to ward off something, but her finger knocked something else instead. The object felt cold and solid, and with a wobble, it fell to the ground.

Jiang Qionghua glanced at it; it was nothing, just a jade flute.

“Why didn’t you hold it steady, did it fall so easily?” Jiang Qionghua frowned, not intending to dwell on the matter. But just as she finished speaking, she suddenly noticed that Ming Yishu’s face beside her was pale, as if this was not just a simple jade flute, but something precious.

This girl was always so delicate. She treated anything Jiang Qionghua gave her as a treasure. Yet, despite being given the best food, clothing, and amenities in the world over the past six years, she still hadn’t broadened her perspective.

Seeing her bend down to pick it up, Jiang Qionghua felt a slight disdain: “Don’t pick it up…”

This time, Ming Yishu didn’t listen to Jiang Qionghua. She had only wanted her aunt to see the exquisite craftsmanship of the jade flute, and hadn’t expected the other party to raise her hand and strike it down.

It was her fault for not holding it steady.

Ming Yishu’s heart was desolate, filled with an unclear mix of regret and something else. Her eyes were blank as she stared at the jade flute buried in the snow, harboring a flicker of hope as she reached out to sweep the snow away and search.

This path was considered remote now, so there was accumulated snow, and the palace servants who swept the snow hadn’t fully cleared it. The jade flute had fallen into the snow and was hidden, requiring her to search through the snow by hand.

“I told you not to look for it.” Jiang Qionghua was waiting to force Chu Qing to watch a performance, and she didn’t want to be interrupted by this trivial matter. She reached out again to pull Ming Yishu’s arm, but saw the other stubbornly searching in the snow. Her pale white hands were stained with icy snow, frozen until they lost all color.

Jiang Qionghua: “Are you even listening to me? It’s just a jade flute. Why are you treating it so seriously?”

Ming Yishu seemed to snap back to reality. She said in a low voice, “It was a gift from Aunt, I don’t want to lose it.”

So that was the only reason.

Jiang Qionghua waited helplessly for her to search, looking around above, and finally catching sight of Chu Qing.

The archers on the high walls of the passage had all been replaced with her own subordinates. Chu Qing could only watch such a drama with wide eyes—the archers would feign an ambush with arrows, and Ming Yishu would surely rush forward to protect her without hesitation.

She wanted her to see, to watch with her own eyes how the daughter of a former acquaintance would risk her life for her, the enemy.

Jiang Qionghua noticed Ming Yishu’s hand, which was in the snow, suddenly stiffen, as if she had touched something. She asked, “Found it?”

She had found it.

But…

Ming Yishu’s hand was already numb from the cold, but when she touched the fragments of the jade flute, she felt a bone-piercing chill.

The jade flute was shattered.

“Jade is cheap and easily broken, truly not worthy of notice.” Jiang Qionghua said, “If you haven’t tired of playing with new things, I’ll have someone make you a new one another day.”

No—

Ming Yishu slowly shook her head, her spirits low. She thought, it’s not like that. Jade objects all possess a spirit. Even if another perfectly identical jade flute were made, it would never be the original one.

“Although jade is fragile, it can be preserved for thousands of years, and its brilliance will remain undiminished even after a millennium.” Ming Yishu could no longer force a lighthearted smile. She could only press her lips together, forcing out a look of disappointed struggle. “Jade can hold sentiment for tens of thousands of years.”

Yet, it shattered just like that.

Listening to her words, Jiang Qionghua felt that the person before her was talking nonsense. Historical records hadn’t been kept for thousands of years, yet her tone suggested she had witnessed it.

Jiang Qionghua didn’t want to discuss these vague principles with a junior. She clasped her hands behind her back and gave the signal for her subordinates to act.

“Let’s go back.” Jiang Qionghua took the fragments from Ming Yishu’s hand and casually tossed them to the side. “Don’t hurt your hand.”

Ming Yishu’s hand felt lighter. She reluctantly watched the place where Jiang Qionghua had tossed the jade flute fragments.

—It was at this moment that the sound of rushing air whistled through.

The attendants Jiang Qionghua brought with her had been briefed beforehand. Seeing this situation, they cooperated knowingly. They skillfully drew their swords, cutting down the arrows that were not particularly fierce.

Anyone skilled in martial arts could tell that the rain of arrows was sparse and weak, carrying no real force. Even with the advantage of high ground, it couldn’t pose any threat to the Prime Minister.

But Ming Yishu didn’t know this.

This was a grand play centered around her, specially designed for her.

Therefore, when the first person cried out “Ambush,” she immediately put aside her earlier melancholy and tightly grasped Jiang Qionghua’s hand.

This was no time for sorrow and self-pity, she knew. Amidst the arrows, she followed Jiang Qionghua without hesitation, while simultaneously diverting her attention to the arrows whistling through the air.

She couldn’t let Aunt get hurt.

This seemed to have become her instinct. The entire purpose of her transmigrating into the book was based on the person before her; the other party had to be safe and sound.

But… why… were Aunt’s attendants so far away?

Although the rain of arrows was manageable, Ming Yishu still felt something was wrong. In the films and TV shows she had seen, when a master was ambushed by assassins or archers, the attendants behind them would surround them as cover, using their bodies as shields to tightly protect their master.

Although this method was inhumane, it was consistent with ancient times.

Ming Yishu looked around and saw that only she was by her aunt’s side. Even Bo Lu was far behind, not stepping forward.

Thinking of this, Ming Yishu dared not relax any further, staring intently at the rain of arrows, afraid of injuring the person she was holding.

“Don’t be afraid, Aunt.” Ming Yishu was still a little scared, seeing such a scene for the first time, but she still chose to walk behind Jiang Qionghua, hoping that she could see any incoming arrows fastest.

“I’m not afraid. You are the one shaking.”

Jiang Qionghua had seen all kinds of scenes. The people she had killed with her own hands could stack up along this entire path. She even felt like laughing because Ming Yishu, this junior, was actually comforting her in return, gripping her hand tightly.

Was she truly protecting her with such devotion?

Jiang Qionghua walked forward without focusing on her steps, while appreciating Ming Yishu’s slightly panicked eyes.

They were truly beautiful.

So delicate, yet capable of showing an unyielding, resilient side.

Ming Yishu had no time to look at Jiang Qionghua’s expression, or she would have met a gaze that was scrutinizing and mocking. She was only observing behind her, while nervously paying attention to the archers on the high wall.

It was precisely because of her intense focus and seriousness that she was the first to notice when Chu Qing quietly took out a crossbow from her large sleeve.

The incident was sudden. None of the archers around Chu Qing, the attendants beneath the high wall, nor even Jiang Qionghua, saw it—the Empress, suppressed for years, aimed a dark strike at Jiang Qionghua below, carrying her absolute hatred.

With the advantage of high ground, the crossbow bolt shot down rapidly. Ming Yishu’s pupils trembled, and she instinctively wanted to push the person she was protecting away.

But she quickly realized she had made a mistake. She had never done anything similar, and trying to push the person away was already difficult to achieve. She could only use her slight body to take the crossbow bolt for her aunt.

Fortunately, she succeeded. After all, protecting one person didn’t require much difficulty; tightly embracing the person was enough.

As the crossbow bolt pierced her body, Ming Yishu smiled with relief.

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