Chapter Forty-Two: A Barrel of Jealousy Overturned
A hug can release a hundred and twenty percent of stress, so, would you allow it?
Wei Spoon's Gentle Voice thought she ought to explain: that hug depended on whom you embraced, and also, who saw you being embraced.
The men in black had surrounded them just as Feng Jinye was leaving; the interval was brief, but in those few moments, Feng Jinye had already returned, now standing at the far end of the corridor, quietly witnessing the scene of the embrace…
Wei Spoon's Gentle Voice patted Huangfu Chen’s shoulder, signaling him to let go, and said, “I’ll keep Luo Yanqing here for now. If she tries to harm me, it’ll give us more chances to make contact!”
For safety’s sake, Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice knew she had to leave; lingering further might ruin Huangfu Chen’s plans and delay rescuing Feng Qingxuan and finding Yun Ming’s antidote!
After more than half a year, she finally had news of Huangfu Chen and Feng Qingxuan. Impatient, she hurried toward the Prince of War’s residence—she had to tell Feng Jinye!
She didn’t pause for a moment, flying like the wind to Listening Wind Pavilion, only to be stopped outside by Chu Jiu: “Princess, the prince has left the residence, he’s not at Listening Wind Pavilion!”
“He’s not back yet?” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice was puzzled; Feng Jinye should have returned from her family’s estate by now. She asked, “What about Night Eleven?”
“Princess, Night Eleven follows the prince everywhere,” Chu Jiu said, a bit disgruntled—just days ago, she’d made their prince wait all night. He muttered, “If the prince isn’t here, Eleven naturally isn’t either!”
“Then wait for Feng Jinye to return, and tell him I have news of Qingxuan, ask him to find me,” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice understood Chu Jiu was upset on Feng Jinye’s behalf, but she didn’t mind, issuing her instructions calmly.
Chu Jiu replied half-heartedly, “Alright…”
He’d barely finished the word when he realized he must have misheard: “Princess, what did you say just now?”
“I have news of Qingxuan!” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice confirmed, knowing Chu Jiu, who had served the Prince of War for years, was naturally very concerned about Feng Qingxuan.
“What! Princess, do you mean you have news of Lady Xuan?” Chu Jiu exclaimed, immediately growing anxious…
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice nodded, replying, “Yes.”
Chu Jiu hesitated, unsure if he should go find their prince for her…
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice caught the flicker in his eyes. “Is Feng Jinye here or not?”
“Princess, you’ve really pushed the prince to his limits this time!” Chu Jiu shook his head helplessly. “Night Eleven isn’t with him, the prince hasn’t returned.”
“He hasn’t returned?” Anxiety tightened in Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice’s chest; Feng Jinye must have stormed off to Maple Woods in anger. “Then wait for him to come back, and tell him to find me.”
She returned to Zhi Yu Pavilion, exhausted, lying in the rocking chair, pondering the men in black from earlier.
If today’s attackers truly came at Luo Yanqing’s behest, then her plan to go to Xiao Yu Manor had to be postponed. Luo Yanqing had hired assassins from Twilight Pavilion to kill her, which gave her an opportunity to reach Huangfu Chen.
Qingxuan had been taken by Twilight Pavilion—very likely targeting Feng Jinye! The day had been so hectic she hadn’t even managed to ask Huangfu Chen where the military tally was kept.
And Feng Qingxuan—when had she been taken, and was she safe?
Her mind was a tangled mess. She wanted something to eat, then remembered Qingxia and Dongnuan were at the Duke’s residence, Xuechun had been left behind on the road, but with Huangfu Chen around, Xuechun would be fine.
Just as she rose, deciding to look for that silly girl Xuechun first, the door swung open and Xuechun entered, face drawn, crying out, “Miss…”
“What’s wrong? Is it because I didn’t wait for you?” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.
“No, Miss!” Xuechun stammered, closing her eyes to recount what happened: “I saw Young Master Huangfu hugging you!”
“Oh.” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice paid little mind to Xuechun’s alarm, responding indifferently.
“I knew you’d react like that.” Xuechun shook her head and continued, “Miss, give me ten taels of silver and I’ll tell you something that’ll absolutely shock you!”
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice suddenly paused, startled. She spoke slowly: “Feng Jinye saw it too?”
Xuechun nodded like pounding garlic. Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice sighed, murmuring her headache, “Feng Jinye…”
“Sigh…” She gazed out the window; the snow had stopped, but it was colder outside.
“Forget him. Go back to the Duke’s residence and tell Qingxia and Dongnuan to return, and have Aunt stay there for now,” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice said, her mind in turmoil.
Xuechun nodded, first stopping at the kitchen to cook her a bowl of chicken porridge, then set off toward the Duke’s residence…
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, her mind repeatedly picturing Feng Jinye dressed so thinly tonight—he must have left in a hurry, even Chu Jiu hadn’t managed to warn him.
Finally, she couldn’t resist any longer, threw on a cloak, and hurried to Listening Wind Pavilion…
Qingxia and the others weren’t there. Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice, her hair loose, left Zhi Yu Pavilion and arrived at Listening Wind Pavilion, where Chu Jiu still waited outside—clearly, Feng Jinye hadn’t returned.
Frustrated, she turned and ran out of the residence. The gatekeeper watched her approach from afar, slowly opening the grand gate of the Prince of War’s residence…
Feng Jinye, clad in dark, simple robes, stood tall a hundred meters away, watching as Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice, her ink-black hair cascading like a waterfall, rushed out.
She stopped outside, watched Feng Jinye return smelling of wine, and suddenly was furious, wishing she could slap him right then!
Feng Jinye stared, dazed, at the person before him, suspecting he must be drunk…
He wanted, under the influence of a little wine, to pull Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice into his arms, but he knew she’d see through it—he wasn’t drunk at all, though he didn’t know where this impulse came from. Not being drunk was its own torment.
Seeing Feng Jinye motionless only made her angrier. She strode up to him, grabbed his sleeve, and dragged him toward Listening Wind Pavilion…
With a fierce air, she brought Feng Jinye back, instructing Chu Jiu, “Tell the kitchen to prepare ginger soup to dispel the cold.”
Listening Wind Pavilion had kept the lights burning, waiting for Feng Jinye’s return. As soon as Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice sat him down, she noticed the wound on the back of his hand.
She glared at him, took the wine bottle, and poured it directly over his wound. Then she opened the drawer, pulled out the golden wound medicine, picked up a handkerchief, dried the traces of wine from his hand, habitually blew gently on the wound, and finally dusted it with medicinal powder…
Still angry, she looked at Feng Jinye and asked, “Do you have anything you want to say?”
Feng Jinye was deeply frustrated. He had so much he wanted to say, so much to ask, but didn’t know how to begin. He shook his head.
“Then let me spell it out for you!” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice said indignantly.
“You’re angry because I schemed against you! But think about how I schemed—using that letter, right?” She was full of conviction, speaking with clarity.
“Let me ask you: do you think I should suspect you’re my father’s killer, plot revenge, or avoid your pursuit?” She had guessed Feng Jinye’s thoughts, and continued, “But I didn’t. That means I trust you. Yet you have your doubts, which means you don’t trust me!”
“If you believed in me, none of this would have happened!” Her own voice faltered, wounded. That letter had existed because Feng Jinye trusted her, but now, the fact was, he no longer did.
Feng Jinye felt her words had some truth. Perhaps it was her past attempt on his life always before his eyes—he really did lack sufficient trust in her.
He recalled that time at the Duke’s residence, questioning her, unable to stop the suspicion that hurt her without him even realizing it.
Feng Jinye was deeply remorseful. He said, “I’m sorry.”
“There’s another matter.” Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice felt this was even thornier.
“I’ve told you before, my relationship with Huangfu Chen is just like yours with Feng Qingxuan.” She wasn’t sure whether Feng Jinye would believe her; today’s incident was a grave matter in ancient times.
Bracing herself, she laid her position bare: “That embrace—I don’t know how to explain it to you. But if you mind, or don’t believe me, then you may divorce me…”
She hadn’t finished her sentence when a sudden crash sounded—the jade wine bottle on the desk shattered instantly…
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice suddenly remembered why she’d never dared smash that wine bottle when drunk before—it was made of white jade. If she broke one, Xuechun would nag her for a lifetime!
She stared at the shattered bottle, still recovering, when Feng Jinye, with a swift motion, shattered everything else on the desk…
She looked upon his fury. He’d never lost his temper with her like this before. Turning away, she fought back tears…
Feng Jinye saw her reddened eyes, his heart twisting in pain. He reached for her hand, only to have it pushed away…
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice didn’t want to argue anymore, turning to leave…
Feng Jinye rushed forward and pulled her into his arms from behind, pleading, “Don’t go!”
Silence lingered for a long time before she finally heard Feng Jinye’s hoarse voice at her ear: “I’m jealous to the point of madness. Watching him embrace you, I wanted to kill him, but I don’t even have the right to push him away!”
“I envy him. I wish I could be him!” he murmured again.
Wei Spoon’s Gentle Voice paused, turned around, and wrapped her arms around his slender waist, saying, “You’re impossible, do you know that?”
Feng Jinye was briefly speechless, gazing at her in confusion.
“If you became Huangfu Chen, where would I find my Feng Jinye?” She looked into his deep eyes and smiled gently.
The words “my Feng Jinye” made his heart, which had been gloomy all night, tremble—suddenly it was as if flowers had bloomed, banishing all his sorrow…
His hands shook as he pulled her head into his chest, and he called out softly, “Gentle Voice…”
“Gentle Voice…” At last, he spoke aloud the name he’d whispered in his heart countless times. Joy blossomed there, and he couldn’t help but caress her hair, cherishing her beyond measure…