中文人妻久热无码

It was a during a sunset in spring, 26 years ago, when it all started, and 26 years later, it ended on a spring morning.

“There’s no more Empress Yuan from now on, only Yuan Qingyi!”

Stripped from her robe and pearls she walked barefooted on the icy ground. She walked forward, and with every step she took the guards took another back. Nevertheless, without Zhangsun Wuji’s order, they daren’t leave. Sweat poured down their expressionless faces.

Zhangsun Wuji let out a gentle sigh.

He waved for the guards to retreat, and the empress turned around, laughing coldly, “Now you can–”

She collapsed suddenly, into the arms of Zhangsun Wuji, who had rushed to her side in the first moment.

He deactivated her acupuncture point, bent down quietly to carry her up and back to the room in the courtyard. He sat by the bed, studying the indignation between her brows. He then returned to his table and wrote a letter and ordered the governor-general to immediately have the empress sent back to her palace and to have the letter delivered to His Majesty.

Meng Fuyao observed as all these took place, but only approached to hold his hand when the governor-general had brought the empress out of the house. “She’ll understand your intentions one day…”

To allow her a glimpse at King De’s dead body would be the cruelest thing.

Zhangsun Wuji’s decision was the only way he could protect her.

Who dared to say that he was unfilial? Meng Fuyao would spit at whoever dared question his love for his mother. What did it mean for a man to subconsciously follow his mother’s family name when creating an alias? And what harm would the said mother cause her son with her selfishness and ignorance?

“Affairs of the world are meant to go against the wind, so how can we expect so many explanations?” Zhangsun Wuji had kept quiet upon the empress’s departure, but at her words, he finally opened his eyes and gently caressed her hair.

“It’s hard to find a soulmate. It’s good enough that you understand me, Fuyao.”

…

King De committed suicide in Huazhou to escape punishment, and not long later Zhongzhou ordered for his land and title to be revoked. Only those who had worked with him were punished, and his family members were not treated as guilty. Also, it was mentioned that the former ruler, upon the news, was lamenting. Meng Fuyao thought about the gravely ill emperor resting in Wuji palace, understanding that he was in all likelihood, and reasonably so, deeply grieved over the fact that 26 years of entanglement had come to such an end.

It wasn’t convenient for her to stay in Huazhou’s official residence, but fortunately, Zong Yue had a manor in the suburbs. It was a gift by a rich man whom he had cured. As such, Meng Fuyao enjoyed free accommodation. Upon entering the door, she heard that the rich family’s daughter was secretly admiring Zong Yue, often dropping by to visit. Unable to put up with it, Zong Yue shunned her by going out, and while Meng Fuyao wasn’t in the best mood, she did laugh a little.

Zong Yue and Zhangsun Wuji mentioned that Fang Yimo had arrived at Huazhou, but he was difficult to track as he enjoyed staying hidden and was good at acting unpredictably. Unable to precisely locate them, they could only inquire slowly. Once, out of curiosity, Meng Fuyao asked Zong Yue about the ten strongest fighters and found out that they no longer appeared much in the Five Region Continent. In sequence, those ten players were Mystery, Holy Spirit, Thunder, Epsilon, Gale, Cloud Soul, Moon Soul, Fog, Splendor of Stars, and Mist. Other than Epsilon’s unknown sex, Cloud Soul and Fog were females. The top five members had not been seen in the past 30 years, and Fang Yimo, the Splendor of Stars, was ninth in line, also a god-like figure no one in the whole Five Region Continent dared offend.

Meng Fuyao was rather fascinated by now. She smacked her lips before speaking, “I should start something like this for fun too. How about this? You, me, Zhangsun Wuji… Zhan Beiye can join too I guess… and there’s Ya Lanzhu. Us 5 holy ones, eh?”

“Please do not put my name alongside yours. I want a clean name,” he quickly shot.

The man with the poisonous tongue had released his venom once more, and Meng Fuyao made chase once more. Her suggestion could’ve just been a joke, but no one had expected that words did come true at times, and jokes could jolly well be steered into reality.

Zong Yue took this time to feed Meng Fuyao with more herbs. She said nothing if they were bitter, but she even suffered from diarrhea at times. The record thus far was seven trips to the latrine in a night, and she genuinely wished she were dead. The next day she, along with Yuan Bao, proceeded to demonstrate outside of Zong Yue’s room, declaring that if she were to be given croton seeds once more, she would splatter his door with Yuan Bao’s waste and let him experience the world’s smelliest substance. What she got in return was: “Poison births poison. There is a toxin that has been hiding in your body for more than a decade, and it has already developed into a pile. Don’t you want to get rid of it for good? Sure, don’t look for me when you’re all covered in welts.”

After some thought and imagination about having a body full of welts, all she could do was slip away with Yuan Bao.

That was not it. Zhan Beiye beat Tie Cheng up every day, but he never once neglected her. First, she got beaten by him, then she occasionally beat him, and eventually, they became evenly-matched. Often, both parties ended up numb on the ground, face full of bruises, and Lord Yuan Bao would stroll over to analyze the wounds on their faces. If Zhan Beiye had incurred more damage, Yuan Bao would reward Meng Fuyao with a pine nut that he had licked previously, and if the latter had more injuries, he would reward Zhan Beiye with a fart.

He even made a little booklet to record their victories. Before the match every day he would bet on a winner – always Meng Fuyao – and the reward would be a fruit. If he was right, he would gobble the fruit up the next instant, and if he was wrong, the outcome was the same, as he would start banging the wall out of anger and then require a fruit to mend his “broken heart.”

At times Meng Fuyao would flip through the little booklet and be in awe of his strange records. She knew for a fact that she never did win any of the 10 battles at the start, but it was clearly stated in the records that she had won five times. Also, when she had managed to win five out of 10 times, it was written in the records that she reigned complete victory.

Meanwhile, Zhangsun Wuji made a trip back to Zhongzhou to settle King De’s matter. The Empress might have crippled her identity, but the father and son duo had no intention of doing so. She was still Wuji’s supreme empress, but Meng Fuyao later heard that due to bad health, she had moved into a Buddhist nunnery, located in a separate palace, and closed herself up.

Whether the empress planned to spend the remaining years of her life keeping her former lover in her heart or had other ideas, no one could truly understand. The passionate but untimely love that had been buried deep in the years and the brilliant sword rays that were silently fading away could only be revived through the monotonous and heart-wrenching claps of the mokugyo[1].

Meng Fuyao saw it as a destined conclusion to her story, an optimal one at that. From the start to the end she believed that King De and the empress were both prejudiced and selfish parents. They must have adored their only son in the past, but as time passed and as Zhangsun Wuji’s talents were being recognized, they must have started indulging in their own fantasy of having the father and son cooperating to seize the throne. Upon realizing that their son had ideas of his own, had no intention of giving in to them and was even impeding their plans, their love gradually turned to hate.

The hatred that had developed led King De astray and caused the empress to turn cold. After failing his revolt, King De felt absolutely unfortunate and chose to use death as a denunciation of his unfilial and ruthless son.

What he did not know was that if Zhangsun Wuji had been unfilial and ruthless, King De would’ve ceased to exist a long time ago.

He would also never know that Zhangsun Wuji would never kill him.

Prejudice had led to a tragedy, and all one could do was sigh.

However, something else made Meng Fuyao feel uneasy. She had heard that the mad concubine had gone missing. When the guards were sent to seize King De’s residence and to relocate the concubine, they noticed that the courtyard was empty and that the filth on the ground were all gone. They also realized that the thick piles of dust were fake and all stuck to the ground. Beyond the dirty grass patch was a mechanism that led to a clean secret room, evidently a dwelling for someone.

The news jolted Meng Fuyao to recall details about the house in which she had barged into. Throughout her tour, she had moved without care, but no dust was raised from beginning to end, and there had been no footprints left.

Whether the lady was acting crazy or had another ulterior motive, it was still unknown. Only time would reveal the truth.

Upon Zhangsun Wuji’s return he, too, participated in Meng Fuyao’s training, but with a teaching method different from Zhan Beiye’s. Instead of directly attacking her he wanted her to memorize books. However, without even shouting to get her attention, he simply smiled and flipped open some strange books and grabbed Lord Yuan Bao over to study them. Of course, being with his owner pleased Lord Yuan Bao tremendously, and he squeaked non-stop despite understanding nothing. Naturally, Meng Fuyao was lured into the trap and started getting confused by the books about evaluating merits, formations, five elements, and even geomancy and witchcraft. She was speechless and wondered what he was grooming her to become.

At times she suspected, from the rapport she felt between the three men when drilling her skills, that they were aware of her deepest secret. Yet, she had never revealed it to anyone. While she had taken an indirect approach when broaching the subject to Zhan Beiye, he had answered cooly unlike the other two. As such, he was always her target when attempting to tackle problems and obtain confidential information.

“Look at you… always inviting trouble, stubborn, likes to cause a mess by yourself. What are we to do if you just run off one day to cause a problem you can’t handle? Raising your abilities is the most practical solution.”

[1] A wooden fish, also known as a Chinese temple block, is a wooden percussion instrument. The wooden fish is used by monks and lay people in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition to keep the rhythm during sutra chanting.