Chapter Seventy-Seven: Only If It’s You

Stubborn as Weishao Qingyu was, she could never quite understand why, after Feng Jinye’s birthday banquet that day, she felt so wronged in the Prince of War’s residence...

Later, Weishao Qingyu realized it was probably because she’d gotten lost...

To be lost in the Prince of War’s residence was truly embarrassing, especially since she’d walked a long way, with Feng Jinye foolishly trailing behind her. This added to her frustration. At fourteen, she ought to still be at an age where it was acceptable to cry. The thought alone reddened her eyes...

In the Yu Tower of the Prince of War’s residence, Weishao Qingyu gazed at Feng Jinye, her eyes overlapping with those of the bewildered boy from before, the one who had confessed he didn’t know how to cheer her up. “Let me tell you the story once more, so we can reclaim all our memories...”

“Would you prefer the ocean or the sky?” Weishao Qingyu asked with a gentle smile.

Feng Jinye went straight to the rocking chair and sat down, answering, “Either is fine.”

Weishao Qingyu smiled faintly. Hypnosis as a form of therapy was now something Feng Jinye had mastered effortlessly...

In her recollection, Feng Jinye was once more by the little lake that day...

Weishao Qingyu pushed away Feng Jinye’s hand as he tried to wipe her tears. “Liar...”

Feng Jinye froze for a moment—when had he lied? Weishao Qingyu turned her head away, ignoring the confusion on his face...

“Ye Eleven,” Feng Jinye called. Ye Eleven appeared, and in less than a quarter of an hour, brought the female shadow guard Feng Jinye had embraced earlier to shield from assassins...

Weishao Qingyu frowned at the female shadow guard, glanced at Feng Jinye, then turned to leave, but was caught by him...

“She truly is a shadow guard. I did not lie,” Feng Jinye explained with some difficulty.

Weishao Qingyu, suddenly annoyed, retorted, “That’s not what I meant. You lied! If I say you lied, then you did!”

Feng Jinye’s mind went completely blank...

“You’re hurting my hand!” Weishao Qingyu interjected, breaking his train of thought...

Feng Jinye slowly released her wrist, but, not wanting her to escape, ended up clutching her sleeve instead...

Weishao Qingyu paused. Was this... was he now feeling wronged himself?

“You go back on your word!”

“You promised to treat me well, to spoil me. Have you ever done so? Do you know how far I walked and how tired I was? I’ve never walked so much before. You’re nothing but a fibber, not to be trusted!”

She had been lost for at least an hour, and Feng Jinye had simply followed behind her while she wandered aimlessly through the Prince of War’s residence. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became...

Most infuriating was that, with Feng Jinye shadowing her, Banqiu and Dongnuan didn’t dare show themselves...

Feng Jinye stared dazedly at Weishao Qingyu’s puffed-up, angry little face, his heart a tumultuous mix of emotions, and finally said, “Yes... I was wrong.”

“If you know you’re wrong but don’t change, what use is admitting it?” Weishao Qingyu chided.

For a moment, Feng Jinye was at a loss for words. How had he not changed? He couldn’t turn back time and carry her on his back...

With this thought, Feng Jinye tentatively asked, “Miss Weishao, if you’re tired, shall I carry you back?”

Weishao Qingyu looked up at him, silent for a long while, then nodded reluctantly...

In the State of Liyue, autumn was scarcely felt; the weather remained stifling through August and September, and as soon as October passed, winter set in. Feng Jinye’s birthday fell on the third day of the first winter month, and on that very day, snow fell in Yue City...

Snowflakes drifted down, and Feng Jinye, dressed in a dark red cloud-patterned cloak for his birthday, removed it and draped it around Weishao Qingyu’s shoulders...

They walked in silence...

Weishao Qingyu lay on his back, awkward at first, but as Feng Jinye walked on, her thoughts drifted...

She’d heard that the emperor’s throne was so high so that, even seated, the emperor remained above all standing ministers—so it was in Liyue.

Weishao Qingyu had seen so many people in Yue City; women always trailed several steps behind men...

Feng Jinye, a prince of the realm, had actually carried her simply because she said she was tired...

And wasn’t he supposed to be wary of assassins? How could he trust her so easily?

Feng Jinye was somewhat troubled, mistakenly believing her unhappiness stemmed from anger, not realizing she was simply tired. Did she truly not care about the banquet incident, nor the persistent rumors about him taking a consort?

Remembering his earlier explanation, Weishao Qingyu, brimming with jealousy, muttered, “The Prince of War’s female shadow guard is quite pretty...”

Feng Jinye paused at her words; Weishao Qingyu continued to mutter, “You are, after all, the only prince of Liyue. Isn’t it normal for purple swallows and golden orioles to throw themselves at you? It’s hardly surprising to be surrounded by buzzing bees and fluttering butterflies, is it?”

She pouted, waiting for his response...

Feng Jinye’s lips curved; he let out a soft chuckle...

Weishao Qingyu frowned. “Do you like those at the banquet, skilled in poetry, song, and the four arts?”

Before Feng Jinye could reply, she slipped off his back, pointing to a nearby maple tree stripped bare by winter. “Look over there...”

Pulling him closer, she gazed at the snowflakes on the branches. “This is ‘As if overnight, the spring breeze has come, and thousands of pear trees blossom.’”

Feng Jinye’s gaze lingered on her slender hand holding his, momentarily stunned, and he nodded absentmindedly...

She continued, “I think, among the arts—poetry ranks first!”

Then, turning to him with earnest eyes, she declared, “So, your future princess consort need only recite poetry, isn’t that right?”

Feng Jinye’s eyes brimmed with laughter. He gently pulled up the hood of her cloak and nodded slowly. “Only if it’s you, is it right!”

Her cheeks flushed, and though she turned away with a smile, the rosy hue could not be concealed...

She muttered softly, “Isn’t that a bit unfair?”

“Hmm?” Feng Jinye asked, puzzled.

Feigning composure, Weishao Qingyu said, “I should go back now...”

Having taken but a few steps, she returned, “I don’t know the way. You’ll have to see me out...”

Feng Jinye couldn’t help but laugh. He escorted her to the gates of the Prince of War’s residence, waiting until Dongnuan and Banqiu appeared before he stopped.

“Um, your birthday today...” Weishao Qingyu said shyly, “they said...”

She’d originally intended to bring a gift to the banquet, but according to propriety, a lady could not freely present gifts to a man...

With a soft laugh, she reached out and pinched the corner of Feng Jinye’s robe at his waist. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Happy birthday!”

Banqiu and Dongnuan both widened their eyes in surprise: their new mistress was certainly different!

Weishao Qingyu smiled as she turned to join Banqiu and Dongnuan. Dongnuan came up to her and casually said, “My lady, you mentioned that tomorrow you’d like to try the new cakes at Wanlai Snow. Qingsummer and Xuechun are there tonight, preparing everything...”

Weishao Qingyu nodded, then glanced back at Feng Jinye, not at all bothered that Dongnuan had revealed her plans to him...

Since the Mid-Autumn Festival, when Weishao Qingyu had been struck by a poisoned dart, Feng Jinye had been investigating the culprit. Just as she’d guessed, the poison dart had been released by Miss Liu Er—then known as Lu Yanran.

Feng Jinye had yet to take action against Lu Yanran, for when investigating Miss Liu Er, he uncovered a vast web of intrigue. The poison on the dart left no trace, and it turned out Prime Minister Liu was connected to the state of Xiyan—Xiyan’s spies had infiltrated Liyue for many years, implicating even the Duke of Lu’s residence...

After Feng Jinye’s birthday, the Prince of War’s shadow guards spent nearly two months rooting out the spies from Xiyan, but the Prince of War’s residence had yet to make a move...

It was now New Year’s Eve. At the palace banquet, Feng Jinye once more petitioned for an imperial marriage and received the edict he had requested from the emperor several months prior...

On the eve of the New Year, the quiet winter streets, Feng Jinye leisurely guided his horse, heart alight with joy over the marriage edict granted at the palace banquet...

Regrettably, he could not see her at once...

Since his birthday, Weishao Qingyu had gradually become part of his life, meeting Yunming, Feng Qingxuan, and the newly recovered Huangfu Chen. They often gathered at Mingke Residence, but as year’s end approached, their meetings became rare...

Not until the second day of the New Year did Feng Jinye finally see Weishao Qingyu—but that day ended unpleasantly...

“Graceful as jade, dashing and elegant, handsome and outstanding, exceptionally talented, with looks rivaling Pan An...” Because of these words, Feng Jinye returned to the Prince of War’s residence in a huff...

Hardly had he left when regret crept in; after not seeing her for days, he shouldn’t have quarreled with her...

But, thinking it over, she wasn’t wrong. He knew Lin Yichu had passed the imperial exams—he truly was exceptionally talented. If he ranked among the top three in the palace examinations, he’d be even more so. Then he’d be graceful, dashing, handsome, and as famed as Pan An...

Weishao Qingyu, meanwhile, returned to her residence, realizing Feng Jinye disliked her praising another man. Tomorrow, she’d have to praise him and win him back!

On the third day of the New Year, the day of her coming-of-age ceremony, she stood awkwardly by the red-corridored window of the Weishao General’s residence and blurted, “Feng Jinye, you are brilliant and exceptional, spirited and upright, valiant and heroic, a true man of fervor and integrity...”

Five phrases—just as she’d used five to praise another the day before...

Feng Jinye, wholly unprepared, was overjoyed. “Is that all?”

In that instant, gazing into his eyes, Weishao Qingyu felt bewitched. She stammered, “A youth as graceful as the wind—a heart’s true desire...”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Feng Jinye pressed his lips gently to hers...

Weishao Qingyu’s eyes widened in shock, unable to respond until he released her. Dazed, she asked, “You... are you... making it official?”

Feng Jinye gazed at the girl before him, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin, as if to confirm she was real...

His heart surged with emotion. These past days, he had always been cautious, fearing that a moment’s carelessness would cause him to lose her—never had he felt such pure joy as now...

Feng Jinye nodded softly. “Yes, it’s official. My Princess Consort.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “Happy birthday, my Princess Consort.”

Lost in thought, Weishao Qingyu realized that when Feng Jinye said “mine,” it was not “this prince’s”...