Chapter 117: I Only Want You

Feng Jinye allowed Weishao Qianyu to lean against him, gently patting her back as he whispered soft words of comfort: "Don't be afraid, Qianqian, I am here."

Feng Jinye had never seen Weishao Qianyu in such a state. His heart ached with an intensity that left him feeling utterly helpless and deeply unsettled.

"Qianqian, it was only a dream..."

He continued to murmur soothingly, though he had no idea what she could have dreamt that would leave her so profoundly disturbed.

Cradled in his arms, Weishao Qianyu felt the lingering terror of the dream, yet she could not understand its source. In the past, while being treated for poison at Wanlai Snow, she had dreamt of the burning of the Weishao estate and the murder of her mother; even then, filled with rage and grief, she had not felt this same overwhelming sense of sorrow and impotence. This realization frightened her.

Through tear-blurred eyes, she looked up from his chest, wiped away her tears, and fixed her gaze upon him, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Do you remember the words you spoke when you requested the marriage decree at the palace banquet three years ago?" she asked.

In her dream, a city had been draped in red silk—clearly a grand wedding celebration—yet it had filled her with a sense of inconsolable heartbreak. After much thought, she concluded the most likely scenario was that Feng Jinye was to marry another woman. She lived in fear that this was a prophetic dream.

Upon hearing her question, Feng Jinye was momentarily stunned. Had she dreamt of him taking another wife? Unable to bear her distress any longer, he made a solemn vow: "Qianqian, in this life, there will be only you."

Hearing this, Weishao Qianyu felt tears well up again. She nodded, gave a soft "Mm," and buried her head back in his chest, murmuring, "Feng Jinye, in truth, I do not understand poetry or the arts."

Feng Jinye nodded silently, listening as she continued. He had never truly believed her when she claimed ignorance of literature, much like the time at the Prince Zhan Estate when she claimed she could not even read his name.

"The poems and verses I recite so readily—I merely memorized them by rote," she explained, sensing his skepticism.

Feng Jinye gently stroked her hair and chuckled softly. "It matters not. As long as my princess is you, that is all that matters."

Weishao Qianyu recalled that winter night at the Prince Zhan Estate, beneath the branches covered in the season's first snow, when she had asked him, "It is enough if your future Princess Zhan can recite a few poems, isn't it?"

So, he had remembered his answer from that day. A faint smile touched her lips.

As her emotions gradually steadied, she continued to whisper, "Feng Jinye, you know I have never cared for empty promises; I prefer things that are real."

Feng Jinye nodded with a gentle smile—a rare, warm expression that helped cast away the last of her panic and unease.

"Jinye, I do not want the stars or the sea. I only want you."

Her voice remained as melodic as ever, and Feng Jinye pulled her closer. Her simple, unadorned words never failed to make his heart race with unexpected intensity.

Weishao Qianyu drifted back to sleep in his arms, while Feng Jinye stared blankly at the window, watching the sky slowly turn white with the coming dawn. Her dream had left him unsettled as well.

The next morning, Weishao Qianyu rose earlier than usual. Turning her head, she saw Feng Jinye still reading by the window, just as he had been for the past few days. The memory of last night’s dream remained vivid. As her rationality returned, she carefully pondered the city from her vision. She felt as though she had been there before, but she could not place it. Moreover, she was notoriously bad with directions; unless she was physically standing in a place, she could never distinguish between the various streets in her mind.

If this were a prophetic dream, what could possibly drive Feng Jinye to take another wife?

She considered the possibility that separating her from him had always been Xuanyuan Ran's goal. It was highly likely that Xuanyuan Ran would resort to machinations to force her departure, perhaps even orchestrating a situation where Feng Jinye was compelled to marry another.

She shook her head, banishing the thought, and resolved to have a serious talk with him today.

As she shifted, Feng Jinye sensed she was awake. He remained still, waiting for her to come to him as she had the previous days, but she did not move. Putting down his book, he rose and walked to the bedside. Seeing him approach, she reached out, asking him to carry her up: "Hold me..."

A curve formed at the corners of Feng Jinye's mouth as he lifted her and personally attended to her morning grooming.

"You know how to do this?"

Sitting before the vanity, she watched in disbelief as he styled her hair. He shook his head, though his hands did not stop. Before long, Qingxia entered with breakfast, only to find her master’s husband styling her mistress’s hair in a masculine fashion.

Feng Jinye set down the comb, scrutinizing his handiwork.

"Time for breakfast."

Weishao Qianyu smiled and nudged him toward the table. She thought to herself that if she ever learned how to style a "Returning Heart" bun, she would do it for him one day—it was a pity she did not know how.

"Feng Jinye, let us go find Senior Mei Ji today..." she said, handing him a bowl of shredded chicken porridge.

Feng Jinye paused, then nodded. "Very well."

He understood her unspoken intent. She must have realized that the Twilight Pavilion had only released her because they feared he would declare war on them to get her back. It seemed likely that Xuanyuan Ran’s next move would be to control Yue Capital, thereby seizing the entire Liyue Kingdom, and setting himself in direct opposition to Feng Jinye.

By seeking out Mei Ji, Weishao Qianyu intended to recover the woman's lost memories. As the saying went, to know one's enemy is to ensure victory. At present, they knew far too little about Xuanyuan Ran.

The past few days had been so peaceful that one could almost forget the blades and frost they were destined to face. After breakfast, they went to the Xuanying Pavilion to find Mei Ji.

Mei Ji seemed to have anticipated their arrival and went straight to the question she had once asked Feng Qingxuan: "You are not of the Xuanyuan clan; why do you possess the technique of the Captured Eye?"

Her tone held a clear note of caution. Weishao Qianyu had considered this herself. She looked at Feng Jinye, who had never once asked her about it. Not wanting to lie to him, but feeling differently toward Mei Ji, she pointed at Feng Jinye and said, "He taught me!"

Mei Ji was rendered speechless; it was obvious that Weishao Qianyu was talking nonsense.

"It is natural for you not to trust me, but do you not trust Feng Jinye?" Weishao Qianyu asked with a faint smile.

Mei Ji pondered this. Seeing her hesitation, Weishao Qianyu explained, "I am only guiding you to remember on your own. I will not interfere. If you feel any resistance during the process, you may wake up at any time." She paused before adding, "Perhaps we should set other matters aside and start by trying to remember your original name, shall we?"

Mei Ji looked at her and finally nodded.

"Good. Let us sit over there, chat for a while, and relax..."

Weishao Qianyu spoke softly. Feng Jinye knew that she had already begun.

"Have you ever been to Guanlin City?" she asked in a casual, conversational tone.

Mei Ji shook her head.

Weishao Qianyu nodded. "There is a beautiful little forest outside the west gate of Guanlin City. One day, I should have Qingxuan and Jinye take you there for a visit..."

She knew that the small bamboo grove Mei Ji lived in provided her with a sense of familiarity and safety, which would make it easier for her to relax. Nevertheless, it took nearly an hour before Weishao Qianyu finally brought Mei Ji’s thoughts back to the past.

Thirty years ago, in the courtyard of an ancient family estate, there stood a century-old banyan tree. An old man was training three young girls in swordplay beneath its branches.

"Stand straight!" The old man’s whip cracked, striking the ground beside the girls.

The three young girls glanced at one another and stiffened, standing tall. Soon, the old man departed. Xuanyuan Yuan immediately slumped, collapsing onto the ground, while Xuanyuan Ran remained standing, her posture rigid.

Mei Ji felt as though she were floating in the air, watching this familiar scene. She was surprised to see that Xuanyuan Ran and Xuanyuan Yuan looked exactly alike.

"Xuanyuan Yuan..."
"Xuanyuan Ran..."
"They are twin sisters."

Outside of her consciousness, Mei Ji answered Weishao Qianyu’s questions.

Weishao Qianyu paused, glanced at Feng Jinye, let out a soft breath, and continued to guide Mei Ji deeper into her memories.

Xuanyuan Yuan sat slumped on the ground, complaining, "I’m exhausted. Grandfather is truly impossible. Can’t he wait until my sister and I are grown and have recruited a son-in-law to learn the Xuanyuan sword techniques?"

"Young Mistress, please get up quickly. If the Clan Head returns and sees you like this, you will be punished!" Mei'er said with a hint of anxiety.

"Let him punish me. I am truly tired..." Xuanyuan Yuan said dejectedly.

"Don't try to persuade her, Mei'er. Eldest sister will never change. When she grows up and finds a husband, it will be fine," Xuanyuan Ran said.

"Exactly, exactly," Xuanyuan Yuan agreed immediately.

"Sister, are you not afraid that if your martial arts are poor when you become the Clan Head, your husband will seize the Xuanyuan family from you?" Xuanyuan Ran asked.

Reminded of this, Xuanyuan Yuan felt there was some truth to it and stood up, straightening her posture.

Xuanyuan Ran was busy talking to her sister and failed to notice their grandfather returning for another patrol. A whip cracked, aimed directly at Xuanyuan Ran’s back. Xuanyuan Yuan stared in shock as the whip descended. Her body moved faster than her mind; she turned, hugged Xuanyuan Ran, and curled her back. A sharp "crack" echoed as the whip landed on Xuanyuan Yuan instead.

The ten-year-old Xuanyuan Yuan let out a wail, crying as if the world were ending.

"Grandmother! Grandfather is hitting A-Yuan!!!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

The elderly Clan Head’s majesty vanished in an instant, and he scrambled to cover Xuanyuan Yuan’s mouth, desperate to stop her from crying.