Chapter Fifty-Five: She Is Qingxuan

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The scorching sun hung high in the sky. The little girl’s round cheeks, flushed from the relentless heat, resembled those of a wild rabbit as she scampered to sit outside Feng Jinye’s study.

With a scroll in hand, Feng Jinye listened to the soft, persistent voice of a child. He was troubled and muttered to himself, “I wonder if my elder brother likes grapes?”

He had already heard young Feng Qingxuan bounding joyfully over, clearly full of excitement, deliberately stopping outside his study to “agonize” over this supposed dilemma.

In the courtyard, their father was busy hoeing the soil to plant vegetables, while their mother suggested growing fruit. Little Feng Qingxuan wanted to plant grapes.

Princess Yuan approached, gently wiping the sweat from Feng Qingxuan’s brow with her sleeve, her voice tender: “Mother remembers, your brother doesn’t care much for grapes…”

Feng Qingxuan pouted, casting a pitiful gaze toward Feng Jinye, who was emerging from his study.

“Plant a tree so the little wild rabbit can climb!” the youthful Feng Jinye said with a hearty laugh.

Feng Qingxuan’s eyes brightened. “Brother, is there a tree that bears fruit, something you can eat and climb at the same time?”

“An apricot tree,” Feng Jinye replied. Of all the fruit-bearing trees, the apricot was the first to come to mind.

“I think there are a few old apricot trees behind Marquis Qinbo’s manor. Tomorrow, I’ll fetch one for you!” As he spoke, Feng Jinye playfully tapped Qingxuan’s hair bun with his scroll.

Feng Qingxuan pouted and tried to block her brother’s hand, but after a few taps, her hair came completely undone. Enraged, she hopped up and chased after Feng Jinye.

“Mother, brother’s bullying me!” Unable to catch him, Qingxuan immediately put on a show of fake tears to complain.

“Then hit him back!” Feng Jinye stopped at her words, letting his sister strike him as she wished.

Feng Qingxuan, exasperated, knew that no matter how hard she hit, her brother wouldn’t even frown.

“Hmph, I hope the sister-in-law you marry in the future bullies you terribly, over and over again!” she grumbled resentfully.

Feng Jinye had no desire for a future brother-in-law who would bully his own sister. He nodded, coaxing her, “Very well, if your brother ever bullies you again, just tell your sister-in-law to teach him a lesson!”

From that day forth, during the sweltering summer nights, Princess Yuan would fan little Qingxuan to sleep, and Feng Jinye would always overhear the soft, endless conversation between Qingxuan and their mother about which young lady would best suit her brother.

Elsewhere, “Meiji” fainted into Yun Ming’s arms. Without hesitation, Yun Ming carried her into Qinglan Courtyard. Feng Jinye watched the two figures disappear, and was just about to follow when—

A weak voice, belonging to Weishao Qianyu, called him back: “Feng… Jinye…”

Qianyu was gravely injured. She gritted her teeth and managed to stand for a moment, sweat beading on her brow.

Feng Jinye turned back, lifted her up, paused to glance at the room behind him, then made for Zhiyu Tower.

Weishao Qianyu trembled with pain, her body frail. Enduring the agony, she wrapped her arms around Feng Jinye’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder, whispering to reassure him, “She… is just ill…”

“You still… shouldn’t see her now…” Weishao Qianyu furrowed her brows, closing her eyes, unable to say more.

Feng Jinye’s scattered thoughts gathered at once. Turning on his heel, he arrived at Zhiyu Tower.

Watching her struggle for breath on the bed, every tiny gasp cut at his heart.

Qianyu’s mind was in turmoil. That call of “Brother Yun Ming” was from Feng Qingxuan’s lips. She was Qingxuan—Yun Ming, Feng Jinye—surely, they all understood now.

Qianyu was filled with regret; why had she not recognized her sooner? She had even worn that plum blossom hairpin. Remembering this, silent tears slid down her cheeks.

What exactly had happened to Qingxuan?

She dared not imagine—not even a little.

Feng Jinye, choking up as he looked at her, knew she was grieving, but didn’t know how to comfort her.

“I’m only hurting now. You have to stay with me—you’re not allowed to leave!” Qianyu spoke with a touch of petulance.

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Qianyu didn’t want Feng Jinye to comfort her just now, nor did she want him running off to Qinglan Courtyard.

Her mind raced, but she forced herself to stay calm. Qingxuan needed her. Feng Jinye needed her.

Irritated, Feng Jinye snapped, “Where’s Doctor Leng?”

Qingxia and Xuechun paced anxiously. Dongnuan, limping, hurried in. “Your Highness, the princess is injured at her side. Even if Doctor Leng came, I doubt he could help…”

After a while, Qianyu felt somewhat better, guessing that Qingxuan’s kick must have struck a sensitive nerve, causing her excruciating pain.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a dislocated rib. There’s no need for such a fuss,” Qianyu said, calmest of them all.

“Qingxia, fetch some ice for a cold compress…” Eyes closed, she continued, but was interrupted by Feng Jinye.

“No!” he objected. “Bruises are always treated with heat, never cold!” He was adamant. Doctor Leng had warned repeatedly she couldn’t endure chills. How could she have ice in this cold weather?

“Fine,” Qianyu sighed. “Give me your hand.”

“I need to rest a while. You mustn’t leave.” She grasped his hand, pressed it to her cheek, and closed her eyes as if to sleep.

But sleep was the last thing on her mind—her thoughts were full of Feng Qingxuan.

When Yun Ming had sent her to Qinglan Courtyard, he must have suspected something. That final “Brother Yun Ming” was because Yun Ming had stood before Qingxuan to protect her, making her feel safe.

Clearly, Qingxuan was severely lacking in a sense of security, which was why she split herself into two personalities for self-protection.

Qianyu was puzzled. If that was the case, Meiji alone should have sufficed to protect Qingxuan. Why, then, did Mianyin exist as well?

There was no doubt that Feng Qingxuan, Meiji, and Mianyin were all connected. Could the dual spirits of Meiji be the reason for the disappearances of Huangfu Chen and Feng Qingxuan?

All signs pointed to Twilight Pavilion.

When Imperial Physician Leng was dragged into Zhiyu Tower, he saw Princess Zhan resting with her head on Prince Zhan’s palm, while the prince paid him no mind, leaving him at a loss.

Qingxia gently drew Qianyu’s hand over and placed it on a brocade handkerchief, pressing a finger to her lips to signal the physician to remain silent as he took her pulse.

After examining her, the physician pulled Qingxia aside. “Miss Qingxia, Her Highness is in severe pain. Here are some painkillers—if she can’t bear it, give her one. I’ll return to the herb garden to gather some medicinal plants to make a poultice. She must stay in bed—no unnecessary movement!”

Qingxia nodded, memorizing every instruction.

Feng Jinye, weary at heart, listened outside as Doctor Leng issued his orders, then picked up a cloth to wipe the cold sweat from Qianyu’s brow.

Opening her eyes, Qianyu looked at him and said, “She is Qingxuan…”

It is human nature to resist when a loved one is diagnosed with a terminal illness.

Qianyu had considered that perhaps Meiji’s dual spirits were not so simple, that maybe it was all a trap, that Meiji was only feigning madness, or that perhaps someone else could also split off a personality as Feng Qingxuan.

If that “Brother Yun Ming” had been arranged by Twilight Pavilion, then the reaction when she was attacked was something that could not have been faked.

“Qingxuan…” Feng Jinye’s voice was hoarse. He met Qianyu’s eyes and asked, “Why would she try to kill you?”

Qianyu paused—after all, he still did not trust her enough.

She swallowed her bitterness, pulled his hand free, and said, “I don’t know.”

She closed her eyes again and instructed, “Xuechun, go to Qinglan Courtyard. If… if Princess Xuan is asleep, light some calming incense and ask Prince Yun to come here.”

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Xuechun accepted the order, a little confused—her mistress seemed angry again.

When Yun Ming arrived, he failed to notice the tension between Qianyu and Feng Jinye. He called anxiously, “Qianyu.”

Seeing her still in bed, he suddenly remembered her injury from earlier and asked with concern, “Are you alright?”

“I’m not dead yet,” Qianyu replied flatly.

Feng Jinye’s heart twisted. He stood, pulled the quilt up to Qianyu’s chin, and left only her head exposed.

Unable to bear it, Qianyu propped herself up against the headboard.

“My injury isn’t serious. I can confirm she is Qingxuan…” Qianyu said quietly.

Yun Ming, flustered from the day’s events, echoed her words. “The moment I entered Qinglan Courtyard, she was clutching her head. I didn’t see her face, but in that instant, I just knew… she was Qingxuan.”

Qianyu felt even more guilty for not having recognized her at first.

“Why has her appearance changed?” Feng Jinye asked coldly.

“Didn’t Nanny Wen say that Twilight Pavilion replaces old assassins with new ones? Does that include changing their appearance?” Qianyu shook her head, unable to believe it.

Feng Jinye clenched his fist tighter, unable to imagine all the suffering Feng Qingxuan had endured.

Qianyu fell into thought again. “Meiji appeared yesterday. I suspect Twilight Pavilion intends to remake Qingxuan into the original Mianyin…”

Yun Ming frowned. “But why would Twilight Pavilion choose Qingxuan to become Mianyin?”

“We don’t have the answer to that.” Qianyu shook her head.

“I…” Qianyu drew a breath, gathering her strength. “Right now, our top priority is treating Qingxuan!”

Her rare moment of resolve was almost shattered by the way the two men stared at her, wide-eyed.

“As family of the patient, we must remain optimistic…” she began, but couldn’t ignore the way Yun Ming and Feng Jinye were looking at her. “What is it?”

“Qianyu, are you saying Qingxuan can be cured?” Yun Ming asked, stunned.

“She… can…” Qianyu nodded.

She looked at the hope shining in Feng Jinye’s eyes, but the words caught in her throat.

It would be a long, arduous process, perhaps a lifetime.

Qianyu banished the thought and moved to the heart of the matter. “I suspect Qingxuan has suffered two traumatic events, just as I was struck speechless after witnessing the massacre in the Weishao household as a child—it’s a form of self-protection.”

“Qingxuan’s way of protecting herself was to split into another person, or to create someone to shield her. That’s my theory, but only Qingxuan knows the true reason…”

“The reason I think she may have suffered two traumas is because she’s split into two people…”

“I need you both to tell me everything you know about Qingxuan, from her childhood to now,” Qianyu said, turning her gaze to Feng Jinye.

“You can be selective…”

“For now, I recommend environmental therapy—creating a living environment in which Qingxuan feels safe and happy. For example, planting an apricot tree in her courtyard.” Qianyu knew about the apricot tree; those were surely the happiest days for Feng Jinye and his family…