Chapter 80: Farewell Before the Expedition

For the first time in his life, Feng Jinye began to doubt his own decisions as the Prince of War, wondering if it had been a mistake to arrange the engagement with Weishao Qianyu so early. He did not fear that she would not wait for him, nor that he might not return; his only dread was that if he failed to come back, he would ruin her life. Even worse, if he did not return, yet she still waited for him! Feng Jinye was utterly confident he could conquer all the cities of Xiyan, but the one thing that gave him pause was the Poison Palace in the imperial capital. Not even the slightest risk would he allow to gamble with Weishao Qianyu’s life.

What Feng Jinye did not know was that when Weishao Qianyu had said, “Thinking of marrying come winter…” what she almost blurted out was “thinking of winter’s warmth,” but she decided to hide the truth from Qingxia and changed it to “marrying” instead. In truth, Weishao Qianyu was plotting how to reach the border, considering threatening Dongnuan and Banqiu to guide her.

The next morning, Weishao Qianyu arrived early at the Prince of War’s residence, only to find that Feng Jinye had slept in the study. The room was heavy with the scent of alcohol. She frowned—was Feng Jinye indulging in drink now because he feared he would not have the luxury once the campaign began? “Drunkard!” she scolded as she stood before him.

Feng Jinye lifted his eyelids, glanced at her blearily, then closed his eyes again, reaching out to pull her tightly into his arms. In that drowsy moment, he thought he was still dreaming; but when he pulled her close, he felt the undeniable reality of her presence.

“It’s real… Qianyu…” he murmured—uncharacteristically—burying his face in the hollow of her neck. At last, a sense of peace stole over him, and he drifted back to sleep.

Weishao Qianyu guessed that Feng Jinye had not slept well the night before. She remained perfectly still, letting him hold her as he caught up on his rest. Yet as she herself began to doze, Feng Jinye’s eyes opened again. Two sleepless nights had left exhaustion etched into his features.

Feng Jinye had never been so torn. If he married her before he left, and then perished, she would be left a widow for life. But if he did not marry her, and something happened to him, would another man one day hold her as he now did? The campaign was imminent; if she waited for his return, he could not bear to make her endure that lonely vigil. But if she did not wait, he could not bear to let her go.

Apart from these tangled, unresolvable thoughts, a profound reluctance filled his heart. In two days, he would depart.

Having been held so tightly for so long, Weishao Qianyu began to grow restless. She turned around, her charming smile bringing her face close to his. Feng Jinye laughed softly. Only in her arms could he momentarily set aside all his worries and regrets.

He habitually stroked her hair, not expecting her to open her eyes just then. “You’re awake…” she murmured sleepily. In a flash, her gaze cleared, and seeing his sharply defined features so close, she abruptly turned away, coughing lightly before getting up. “I’ll… I’ll have Qingxia make something gentle on the stomach…”

At her words, Feng Jinye realized his stomach did feel uncomfortable.

Weishao Qianyu knew well that his mood had been off lately. Soon, she returned with a bowl of porridge that Qingxia had prepared and sat beside him with unusual tenderness. “Let me feed you,” she said softly.

Feng Jinye froze, turning mechanically to look at her, as if to confirm he’d heard correctly. She had already brought the spoon to his lips. He gazed at her, and she arched a brow, signaling him to eat.

Since the death of his parents, no one had served him food, let alone fed him porridge. Under her persistent gaze, he finally opened his mouth and swallowed the spoonful she offered.

“You’re not used to me being gentle, are you?” Weishao Qianyu murmured. “Well, after this porridge, shall we spar?”

Feng Jinye chuckled. “Feeling diligent today, are you?”

She nodded.

“Give it here; I’ll feed myself,” he said, eager to finish quickly.

She shot him a glance but ignored him, calmly continuing to feed him.

He was perplexed.

“If you gulp it down, it’ll hurt your stomach. If you eat slowly, it’s good for you. If I don’t feed you slowly, Qingxia’s porridge is wasted!” she scolded lightly.

Feng Jinye’s lips curled into a smile. Even if the wine had not let him sleep, at least it had dulled his mind a bit.

Today, Weishao Qianyu had indeed come to spar with him; her talk of fighting was no joke. When he’d finished the porridge, she made him rest a while before they began their sword practice.

“I think just training like this is dull. Let’s have a real match!”

No sooner had she spoken than, without warning, she drew her sword with a sharp clang and thrust at him. As he retreated, Feng Jinye frowned, “I’ve told you, beginning a duel with this move makes it easy for your opponent to knock your sword away.”

Weishao Qianyu smiled, pressing him back as she replied, “But I’m fighting you, not someone else. Would you really strike my hand?”

He had no choice but to back up beneath the maple tree. With a quick movement, he dodged her attack. In the sunlight, her smile shone as brightly as the glint off their blades.

After exchanging positions, Feng Jinye watched her—so spirited and radiant, her laughter dazzling beneath the sun. For a moment, he was lost in thought. She seized the opening and launched three consecutive attacks in quick succession. He felt she had improved greatly of late and seemed determined to win today.

He parried easily, breaking her sequence, at which point she frowned and decided to resort to trickery. Her final move came from behind, but he anticipated it, blocking with his sword. Unexpectedly, she dropped her weapon halfway through and charged straight at him.

Caught off guard, he released his own sword, which clattered to the ground. In a flash, she leapt onto his back, resting her head on his shoulder. Producing a dagger from her sleeve, she tapped his cheek with it and, in a pitiful tone, whispered, “Will you throw me off?”

He went rigid, feeling her pressed against his back, utterly impudent. She continued, “If you dare throw me…”

Before she could finish, he seized her wrist, using practiced strength to pull her into his arms. She anticipated this, and with her free hand produced another dagger, grinning as she tapped his cheek again.

Seeing her so full of mischief, his heart raced uncontrollably.

When he neither moved nor spoke, she pouted, “Don’t be angry.”

She had barely finished when he lowered his head and kissed her.

Her cheeks flushed. As she slipped from his embrace, she couldn’t resist asking, “Does this mean I won?”

He nodded. It seemed she always won.

She beamed with delight. Ever since that match, she wore a perpetual smile. She remembered how, when she had first arrived at the Prince of War’s residence, she’d boasted she could serve as a shadow guard and protect him. Feng Jinye had always thought her playful, but had promised that if she could defeat him, he would accept her into the women’s shadow guard camp.

Today, he had admitted her victory in person—giving her a legitimate reason to go to the border.

That day, Huangfu Chen had already departed for Guanlin City with the supply convoy. Over the next two days, Feng Jinye would be in the western military camp, making final preparations for the campaign.

The next time Weishao Qianyu saw Feng Jinye was the very day he set out for war.

The drums of battle thundered, the soldiers and horses stood ready.

Before the hour of Chen, Weishao Qianyu arrived at the western city gate, expecting to see fluttering banners, rolling drums, and tens of thousands of troops assembled. But when she arrived, aside from the swirling dust raised by the warhorses, not a familiar face was in sight. The army had already departed.

A wave of loneliness washed over her. Hadn’t they said they would leave after the hour of Chen? Hadn’t he asked her to come see him off?

“It was Lord Eleven who told us the army would depart after the hour of Chen…” Dongnuan realized aloud.

Without a word, Weishao Qianyu turned away, feeling a sudden emptiness in her heart.

Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves rose behind her.

Through the dust, she saw Feng Jinye rein in his horse a hundred paces away and dismount.

“Master, it’s the Prince of War!” Dongnuan exclaimed, turning to look.

With tears in her eyes, Weishao Qianyu turned to see Feng Jinye dismounting. Though it was a day for farewells, he looked for all the world as if he were returning.

A moment ago she had been angry, but now all she wanted was to run to him.

Feng Jinye, a hundred paces away, was her elegant young man, the one her heart yearned for.

He frowned at the swirling dust and stopped, but she ran toward him.

When she reached him, he simply asked, “Why did you come early?”

She answered with a punch to his chest.

He sighed, catching her wrist to examine her hand; sure enough, her right pinkie was bright red. Clad in armor, the pain from her punch was all hers.

“Did you leave before dawn because you didn’t want me to see you off?” she asked.

He nodded, gazing at her. In that instant, he felt an urge to take her with him.

But how could he bear to let her suffer, to face danger?

“I thought you’d just leave without a word,” she said.

On the road, he had truly considered leaving without saying goodbye.

She seemed to see through him. “If you had left without a word, I would have…”

Before she could finish, his kiss silenced her. He did not want to hear any more “what ifs.” None of them mattered compared to what he desired in this moment.

The kiss lingered. Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, “I have to go now…”

She nodded but did not let go of his hand.

“You…” She wanted to say something, but swallowed it, then finally instructed, “If you get hurt, no matter how small the wound, take care of it, understand?”

She had already asked her father, Dongnuan, and Banqiu about the dangers Feng Jinye would face as a commander, and what precautions he should take. But she knew, whatever she had learned, he already understood it all.