Ch 29: When the Wild Goose Returns

Did she mistake him for someone else?

Could it really be that there were two people in this world who looked exactly the same?

But Steward Bai was already introducing him:
“This is Chang Bai, from the palace.

All the servants in this new courtyard, except for the few who followed His Highness from the past, were assigned by His Majesty from the palace. All were carefully chosen by Chang Bai himself. Madam can rest assured.”

Chang Bai.

Even if there were two people in the world who looked identical, they wouldn’t have the same name.

It was him.

Qing Yan glanced at the dark-colored eunuch robes on Chang Bai’s body and lowered her gaze slightly.

Though she was surprised, Chang Bai was a thousand times more shocked than she was.

He could not put into words the storm surging inside him.

A blaze surged in his eyes—like the crimson of her wedding dress that day, the inferno that lit up the sky that night, the blood on his young master’s body, and the burning red in her eyes as she leapt off the cliff.

Unbelievable. And a deep, unrelenting pain.

Even though a year had passed, the agony carved into his heart remained vivid and fresh.

“Chang Bai, aren’t you going to greet the Madam?”
Steward Bai gently reminded him.

Chang Bai snapped back to reality, though his gaze never left Qing Yan’s face.

Was it her?

Or not?

Madam?

At last, Chang Bai returned to the present.

This “Madam” was from Tao Country—the famed Princess Huachao, Shi Lingwu. She was the Princess Consort of Prince Zhan, sent in a political marriage. For the next six months, she would be his mistress.

This “Madam” was much more full-figured than Qing’er had been.

His Qing’er had been delicate and thin, her hands bony and dry from years of laundry and chores.

This woman, however, had a pair of light violet eyes—strange and noble.

“Chang Bai greets the Madam,”
he said, eyes still fixed on Qing Yan’s light purple irises.

Qing Yan bit the tip of her tongue, then met his gaze with a bright smile. In a slightly deeper tone than usual, she said,
“I’ll be relying on you both to take good care of things.”

Chang Bai tilted his head slightly, trying to discern her voice.

Qing Yan shifted her gaze naturally to Steward Bai and asked in a gentle tone,
“Steward Bai, how is the renovation of Prince Zhan’s residence coming along?”

“Madam, all is going smoothly. But it will take at least half a year to complete before the move.

Until then, you’ll be staying here—so the courtyard must still be comfortable.

I’ve discussed it with Chang Bai—he’ll see to any repairs or changes you’d like here, while I focus on the main residence’s renovation.”

“As expected of Steward Bai—so thoughtful.

But this place is only for half a year. Prince Zhan’s residence will be our long-term home.

I was thinking of taking a look there myself. Steward Bai, come with me.”

Steward Bai agreed.

Qing Yan stood and walked forward with elegant steps. As she passed by Chang Bai, she didn’t look at him at all.

Once she had passed, Chang Bai raised a hand slightly as he stared at her back.

Qing’er had been just that tall too.

“Madam.”
Chang Bai called out.

Just as Qing Yan stepped over the threshold, the water-red hem of her skirt swayed lightly.

She took a deep breath, turned around gracefully, and asked,
“Yes?”

Chang Bai composed himself and replied in an even tone:
“Spring has arrived—it’s a perfect time to plant flowers.

Even if this place is temporary, half a year is not short.

If you’d rather not be troubled with renovations, we can skip the major adjustments. But when it comes to the flowers, Madam should make the decision.

There’s a sizable flower garden—why not take a look now, and decide what to plant, so I can pass on the orders?”

Qing Yan hesitated, but Sui’er smiled and said,
“Madam, Chang Bai has a point.

Let’s take a look at the garden first and then head to Prince Zhan’s residence.”

Qing Yan didn’t want to appear too deliberate. She nodded and agreed.

Though this residence wasn’t as grand as Prince Zhan’s future estate, it had still been gifted by the Emperor—and was far from modest compared to most noble homes in the capital.

Qing Yan silently made her way to the garden, eyes fixed ahead, doing her best to appear normal and not give herself away.

She hoped that these violet eyes of hers would be enough to prevent Chang Bai from recognizing her.

The gardeners working the flower beds respectfully stepped aside and bowed.

Chang Bai observed Qing Yan’s expression closely and asked,
“Does Madam have a favorite flower?”

Qing Yan turned her face to the side and asked Steward Bai with a smile,
“What kind of flowers does Prince Zhan like?”

Steward Bai replied apologetically,
“His Highness has never said.”

“Oh—”
Qing Yan furrowed her brow slightly, her expression tinted with a trace of disappointment.

“Then just plant whatever flowers used to grow in Prince Zhan’s residence here too.”

Chang Bai added,
“There are seven gardens of various sizes in the residence.

We’ll follow Madam’s instructions and mostly plant the same flowers.

But it would also be good to set aside one garden for flowers that Madam likes—perhaps those you often saw in Tao Country.

That way, it may ease homesickness.”

Steward Bai gave Chang Bai a surprised glance, sensitive enough to detect his unusual behavior today.

Though he didn’t know Chang Bai well, his impression had always been favorable—he was quiet, thoughtful, and thorough.

He quickly smoothed things over:
“Chang Bai’s suggestion is quite considerate.”

A brief silence fell.

Wen Xi chimed in at the right moment,
“Princess, how about planting the same flowers that used to grow in your palace?”

“Plant Yanxin orchids,”
Qing Yan said.

Qing Yan lowered her gaze, her long lashes casting two crescent shadows.

The corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly, carrying the delicate shyness of a new bride.

She said, “His Highness likes Yanxin orchids.”

Chang Bai’s pupils constricted sharply.

Something inside him shattered—full of holes, beyond repair.

Even after Qing Yan left with Steward Bai and the maids for Prince Zhan’s residence, Chang Bai remained standing alone in the barren flower garden, a cold wind rustling his dark eunuch robes.

“Qing’er, once we’re married, let’s plant some flowers in the backyard, alright?”
She had replied indifferently, “We’re not even going to live there. I’m staying with Miss forever. No need for the trouble.”

“But it’s our home,” he’d insisted.
She gave a vague “oh,” then said, “Let’s plant sunflowers. You can eat the seeds in autumn.”

Chang Bai shut his eyes in agony, murmuring to himself, “Is it really you… or not…”

Qing Yan brought Steward Bai, Wen Xi, and Sui’er to Prince Zhan’s residence.

Back at the house, Qing’er stayed behind to tidy up Qing Yan’s bedchamber.

That afternoon, she noticed how bare and cold the room felt. She decided to ask Chang Bai if some decorations should be brought in.

“Lord Chang Bai, are you there?”

Qing’er knocked on his door.

There was no answer.

Just as she was about to leave, she heard something fall inside—followed by a muffled grunt.

“Lord Chang Bai?”

Startled, Qing’er pushed the door open without permission.

A folding screen blocked her view, but a pair of legs peeked out from behind it.

“Lord Chang Bai!”
She ran quickly around the screen—

—and saw Chang Bai slumped on the floor, leaning against the screen, eyes closed, face pale, cold sweat beading his brow.

His robe was slightly disheveled, sleeves rolled up to reveal a bloodstained forearm.

“Ah!”

Qing’er let out a sharp cry, fumbling to take out a handkerchief and wipe the blood from his arm.

Her voice trembled. “How could this happen? Why is there so much blood?!”

As she wiped, she finally saw the character carved into his skin: 青 (Qing).

Below it, there were many old scars.

Clearly signs of self-inflicted wounds.

Qing’er froze, eyes falling on the dagger beside him.

She dared not ask further and said quickly, “I’ll get some medicine!”

She rushed to the cabinet to find a wound ointment, then returned to tend to his injuries and carefully bandage his arm.

When she finally looked up, she realized Chang Bai had opened his eyes at some point.

He was watching her—or perhaps not watching her at all.

His pale face betrayed no pain, no emotion.

Qing’er couldn’t help asking, “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Chang Bai closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.

He smiled gently. “No.”

How could it not hurt?

Qing’er bit her lip.

“What did you come for?”

As he spoke, Chang Bai calmly rolled down his sleeve, covering the wound.

His tone was utterly casual, as if nothing had happened.

Qing’er stared at him in a daze.

“…Hmm?”

She snapped out of it and quickly explained her reason for coming.

“That? Easy.”

Chang Bai rose with a smile. “Come with me to the storeroom.”

“…Oh. Okay.”

Qing’er remained in a daze. Even after arranging the decorations, she hadn’t fully recovered from the shock.

But as a lifelong servant, she knew not to ask unnecessary questions. No matter how confused or concerned she felt, she could not speak them aloud.

Still, her gaze toward Chang Bai now carried more doubt—and a flicker of sorrow.

Qing?

Did Lord Chang Bai’s beloved, before he entered the palace, also have “Qing” in her name?

Was that why he once told her her name was beautiful? Was that why he helped her when she was bullied?

Qing’er stood in the doorway, dazed, watching Chang Bai’s figure disappear down the corridor.

…

Originally, Qing Yan only intended to give Prince Zhan’s residence a brief look.

But she deliberately made excuses to linger there for a long while, amidst the burned-out ruins.

She crouched down, gazing at the scorched marks on the walls left by the fire, lost in thought.

“Madam, what are you looking at?”
Sui’er squatted beside her, asking curiously.

Qing Yan touched the scorched wall and asked, “Why did Prince Zhan’s residence catch fire?”

The estate was huge. For a place this size to be so thoroughly burned without prompt intervention… it made no sense.

Sui’er hesitated, then said uncertainly, “I think it was Prince Zhan himself who set the fire.”

“…What?”

Qing Yan turned to look at her, astonished.

Sui’er gave an embarrassed smile and explained, “I was still young then, just overheard others. They said Prince Zhan claimed the manor was ‘tainted’ and ordered it burned.

When the Emperor sent people to put out the fire, Prince Zhan placed a chair at the gate, sat there grandly, and wouldn’t let anyone in to extinguish the flames.”

Qing Yan almost cursed, “Is he crazy?”—but thinking of Duan Wucuo’s past eccentricities, it didn’t seem all that surprising.

Steward Bai returned to urge her:
“Madam, the dust and noise here are too much. Shall we head back?”

Qing Yan looked at the sun sinking westward and had no choice but to leave.

What was meant to be a peaceful six-month reprieve… now felt full of uncertainty.

Qing Yan’s expression was dull and unhappy.

Her face always revealed her heart. The servants behind her remained silent, following quietly.

Only once they boarded the carriage did Wen Xi send Sui’er away to buy sweets.

Then she leaned close and asked in a low voice,
“What’s wrong with you today?”

“I…”
Qing Yan’s brows furrowed.

She searched for the right words, unsure how to explain Chang Bai’s presence to Wen Xi.

But Sui’er suddenly returned.

She had coincidentally run into Princess Zhenshan—who asked her to lead the way to see Qing Yan.

Su Ruche looked at Qing Yan in the carriage and smiled.

But the hand clenched tightly in her sleeve betrayed the jealousy and hatred in her heart.

Yesterday had been the wedding day of Princess Huachao and Prince Zhan.

As Su Ruche looked at Qing Yan dressed in red on that carriage, she couldn’t stop wondering—did they consummate?

Rumor had it Prince Zhan hadn’t returned to the monastery last night. Then what had they done?

How far did they go?

The thought of Qing Yan sharing a bed with Prince Zhan, perhaps doing intimate things, made her want to curse her a thousand times—dirty woman, wretched woman.

All night, she’d been tormented by endless imaginings. Jealousy and hate nearly drove her mad.

“Princess—what a coincidence.”
Su Ruche said sweetly, her tone perfectly normal.

Qing Yan had no choice but to set aside her explanation to Wen Xi and compose herself.

She smiled at Su Ruche, eyes crinkling.
“Yes, what a coincidence indeed.

To think we’d run into County Princess Zhenshan everywhere—surely we must have been sisters in our past lives.”

°❀.ೃ࿔°❀.ೃ࿔