VBNWDW - Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Hearing the words "Her Majesty the Empress," the person at the door froze abruptly, blurting out, "What nonsense are you talking about!"

It was a rare display of panic and awkwardness. The Grand Princess, who had just vaulted the wall so deftly, now had her right foot inside the threshold and her left foot still outside. It was barely half a step, yet she still hadn't managed to enter.

Looking at the person inside, she was standing before a dark wood desk, her long hair unbound and spilling over her plain white dress. Perhaps because she had been angry all day, or perhaps due to the dim candlelight, she seemed more slender than usual. Her already porcelain-white skin looked as if it would shatter at a touch. The fingertips gripping the brush were tinged with blue; it was impossible to know how long she had been standing there.

Zhong Jueyu averted her gaze, her tone softening with resignation. "Why aren't you wearing an outer robe?"

The other person's tone remained unchanged, stiffly retorting, "I'm not cold. Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty the Empress."

Zhong Jueyu knew at once that this wouldn't be easily coaxed away. A few pastries certainly wouldn't be enough.

Zhong Jueyu moved her foot from outside to in, then turned and locked the door. "You know," she said, "those words, 'Her Majesty the Empress,' are not to be spoken lightly."

Setting aside the possibility of it ever happening, simply calling oneself Empress or allowing others to do so without an official investiture was a capital offense in Great Liang, one that would implicate one's entire family.

Luo Yueqing, of course, knew this. Yet she said, "What, is Her Majesty putting on airs already? Am I not even allowed to say it?"

She simply refused to relent.

What could Zhong Jueyu do? She couldn't very well drag this person to the execution grounds to be beheaded. If she did, there would probably be a dramatic, last-minute stay of execution.

She could only carry the pastries and walk closer, saying, "What airs could I possibly put on in front of you?"

The other person's reply was swift. "You have plenty. The airs of a Grand Princess, the airs of a senior sister, and now you've added the airs of Her Majesty the Empress. The next time I see you, I'll probably have to kowtow a few times first."

Don't be fooled by the little Daoist's refined and otherworldly appearance; she actually loved to bring up old scores. She'd mention the words "senior sister" from time to time, just like when she felt wronged at the Blissful Pavilion and insisted on getting even, crying and aggrieved.

It showed what a temper she had.

Zhong Jueyu finally reached her side, her voice unconsciously softening as she coaxed, "How could I ever bear to let you kneel?"

"I think you could bear it just fine. This time you kicked me out of the princess's residence; next time you'll probably throw me out onto the street."

With just a few words, she twisted the situation. She had clearly been taken away by her father and brother from the Luo Family, yet she made it sound as if Zhong Jueyu had driven her out. If anyone who didn't know the truth heard this, who knows what they would think of the Grand Princess.

But Zhong Jueyu didn't get angry. Instead, she smiled, the mirth flowing from the corners of her eyes, adding an inexplicable touch of gentleness. She coaxed again, "How would I dare drive you away? I rushed over here as soon as it got dark."

She lifted the pastries in her hand. "I bought some of your favorite snacks on the way."

The things that usually held such great appeal for Luo Yueqing now failed to earn even a single glance. She dipped her brush into the inkstone and lowered her head to continue writing her unfinished characters.

Now she was ignoring her completely.

Zhong Jueyu placed the pastries on the desk, her gaze shifting to the Xuan paper.

Luo Yueqing was, after all, from a noble family. Though not as valued as her elder brother, she had still learned everything she was supposed to, without exception. Her calligraphy, for instance, was so good that even if her family fell into decline and she had to set up a stall at an intersection to write letters for people, she wouldn't have to worry about business or going hungry.

However, because she was holding in her anger, her strokes were a bit too forceful. Several times, the brush pierced through the paper, leaving holes of various sizes that looked jarringly out of place amidst the otherwise excellent calligraphy.

But Zhong Jueyu pretended not to notice, praising it as if to herself, "The structure of these characters is elegant and fluid, the brushwork handsome. I wonder if Master Qingyue would part with this treasure and allow me to have it mounted and hung in my bedchamber?"

Luo Yueqing wasn't buying it. She glanced at her. "My elder brother's calligraphy is better. If Your Highness is in need of decorations, feel free to ask him. He would surely be delighted."

Zhong Jueyu fell silent. She then reached for the other's hand. "Does your wrist still hurt? I brought a bottle of wound salve specifically for you."

"I don't know why, but ever since I left the princess's residence, I've felt light all over. Nothing hurts anymore."

The angry words were so obvious that even a three-year-old would know she was sulking, let alone Zhong Jueyu.

She gave a helpless laugh and chided, "What nonsense."

Though it was a rebuke, there was no trace of blame in it. She held the other's fingertips and lifted her hand.

Zhong Jueyu looked down at the lingering marks, her heart aching. "Why didn't you treat this?" she asked.

Luo Yueqing's skin was naturally fair, making even the slightest red mark conspicuous, to say nothing of the overlapping blue and purple bruises from fingertips.

The perpetrator felt a surge of guilt and coaxed, "It was my fault. I was too rough."

Luo Yueqing shot her a look, set down her brush with her other hand, and deliberately lifted her long, flowing hair, revealing the marks on her neck as well.

The other woman knew her little scheme but couldn't help walking into the trap. She took out the wound salve she had prepared and said, "Let me apply the medicine for you. You have to rub the bruises to break them up so they'll heal faster."

But Luo Yueqing pulled her hand away. "Don't."

"If you're angry, take it out on me. Don't take it out on your own body," Zhong Jueyu said, her brow furrowing with a new seriousness.

Her intention was to get Luo Yueqing to apply the medicine properly, but the other person seemed to only hear the first part. She suddenly smiled and said, "Take it out on you? In any way I want?"

The words were strange, and Zhong Jueyu couldn't help but feel a sense of caution. After all, having been through it once, she knew that if this was a punishment, it wouldn't be as superficial as last time.

But on second thought, Zhong Jueyu reasoned that the other woman hadn't read any illustrated books. Everything that happened last night had been led by her. Even if Luo Yueqing wanted to be excessive, she wouldn't know how. At most, it would just be a repeat of last night.

Her expression relaxed, and she said in a gentle voice, "As long as it makes you feel better, anything is fine."

Those activities were tiring, but she had practiced martial arts since childhood. While she couldn't claim to be the best in the world, she certainly had more stamina than the little Daoist.

How could Luo Yueqing not know what she was thinking? The smile on her lips deepened. "Come sit."

She gestured with her eyes toward the desktop, where the previous ink stains had not yet dried, shimmering silvery-white under the lamplight.

Zhong Jueyu didn't understand what she wanted to do, but since she had already agreed, there was no reason to refuse, especially since this was just the first step.

She grit her teeth and, following the other's request, sat on the wooden desk.

This clearly made her a little uncomfortable. After all, she was the Grand Princess, who had received a strict education since childhood. Her every action and gesture was bound by etiquette, let alone something like forgoing a chair to sit on a desk.

Although the Luo Family showed signs of decline, it was still much better off than Xuanmiao Temple. Even a simple desk was carved with patterns, with textures running from the corners to the edge. Right now, these carvings pressed into the back of Zhong Jueyu's knees, leaving her legs dangling in mid-air.

"What's wrong?" Luo Yueqing watched her with a half-smile, deliberately asking even though she knew the other was ill at ease.

Zhong Jueyu turned her head away. "Nothing."

Luo Yueqing nodded along.

Because of her posture, Zhong Jueyu was now a head taller than the other woman, looking down at her from a commanding position.

Her features already had an aggressive quality, unlike Luo Yueqing's softness. Her facial contours were striking and deep-set, her upturned phoenix eyes held great authority, and her innate pride blended with the cold severity forged on the battlefield, making her quite intimidating—especially when she looked at someone like this.

Anyone else would have been frightened into backing away, but the person standing before her was Luo Yueqing. Not only was she unafraid, she even took a step forward.

The distance between them closed, and the familiar scent of sandalwood coiled in the air. Before Zhong Jueyu could react, she saw Luo Yueqing turn her head to look behind her, as if carefully selecting something.

Zhong Jueyu couldn't help but feel puzzled. "What are you looking for?"

The other person asked, "What kind of brush does Your Highness usually prefer?"

She continued, talking to herself, "I'm used to goat-hair brushes. They're made from the soft hair of mountain goats or wild yellow goats, and they hold a lot of ink, so you don't have to dip them every few strokes."

"Wolf-hair brushes are a bit stiffer, but their strength is that they produce powerful, crisp strokes, making it easy to create sharp brush tips."

"Rabbit-hair brushes have tips that are soft yet full and resilient. They're the softest of all."

After critiquing each one, Luo Yueqing smiled again. "What does Your Highness like?"

Ordinarily, Zhong Jueyu would have answered directly, but at this moment, something felt off.

Could it be that Luo Yueqing wanted to draw on her face?

It was like the pranks her soldiers played in the army, where, being forbidden from gambling with money, they would draw on the loser's face or flick them with two fingers. Zhong Jueyu didn't understand the fun in it, but if it would appease Luo Yueqing, she was willing to cooperate. At worst, she would just have to wash it off before the morning court session tomorrow.

The Grand Princess's thoughts were simple. She replied, "Use whichever one you like."

She unconsciously tilted her chin up, as if already prepared to be painted on.

Luo Yueqing raised an eyebrow, reached out, and took all the brushes from the rack, tossing them into the small water basin beside it.

This small basin had been prepared in advance. After all, before using a brush, one had to soak it in water to soften the tip and make writing easier.

Zhong Jueyu saw this and suspected nothing, only thinking that Luo Yueqing had tossed in quite a few brushes. She wondered what kind of masterpiece she was planning to create.

The clear water rippled as the fine hairs of the brushes fanned out, swaying with the movement of the water.

Since Zhong Jueyu wouldn't choose, Luo Yueqing made the decision herself. She started by picking a stiff wolf-hair brush and brought it over without dipping it in ink.

These were all new brushes. After all, Luo Yueqing had been gone for two years, and her old brushes had long since been discarded. Thus, these were all free of ink stains, looking neat and clean.

Seeing this, Zhong Jueyu couldn't help but offer, "Shall I grind the ink for you?"

She had already accepted this punishment in her heart and adopted a proper attitude, even actively offering to help.

Luo Yueqing gave her that half-smile again. "That won't be necessary. If Your Highness feels you have nothing to do, perhaps you could start by taking off your clothes."

"Ah," Zhong Jueyu froze, not understanding.

But the other woman's hand was already reaching for her sash.

The night was deep. A crescent moon hung in the treetops, only a partial silhouette visible. Gray shadows fell upon the ground, scattered several times by the wind.

The sash was tossed carelessly to the floor, and then the robe was forced down, revealing a slender neck and shoulders. The bruises on them were faintly visible. Standing there with Luo Yueqing, who still had two bite marks on her own neck, they made for a strangely, tragically well-matched pair.

"You…" The Grand Princess was finally starting to panic. She placed her hands behind her, bracing them against the desk, and inadvertently stained them with a bit of ink.

"Is Your Highness having second thoughts?" Luo Yueqing asked unhurriedly, with the calm composure of a teacher instructing a student in calligraphy.

Zhong Jueyu's reply was quick. "No."

But the slight upward lilt in her tone still betrayed her helplessness.

And so, the tip of the brush landed on the crimson pearl of her lip.

Luo Yueqing spoke again. "Since Your Highness feels you have nothing to do, then help me warm the brush."

Zhong Jueyu understood her meaning but was a little reluctant. Though called a wolf-hair brush, it was made from the tail of a yellow weasel.

Luo Yueqing smiled. Her other hand hooked around Zhong Jueyu's neck and pressed down, forcing her to lower her head. Then, Luo Yueqing tilted her own head up and kissed her, her muffled words a lighthearted tease. "If Your Highness is unwilling, then forget it. It's just that it will be a bit cold later."

Before Zhong Jueyu had time to think, her breath was stolen away, and then the cold tip of the brush touched her neck and shoulder.

The water-soaked brush pressed against her skin, and a droplet immediately slid down, tracing a path downward.

Zhong Jueyu instinctively tried to pull back, but she was held down more firmly, unable to escape.

The shadows on the window paper were thin, trembling slightly. It was impossible to tell if it was the wind making the candlelight flicker.

The brush continued downward. The troublesome robe was pulled away, and the falling droplet plunged into the valley between the hills, vanishing in an instant.

Zhong Jueyu had always favored wolf-hair brushes, for they produced sharp strokes and weren't as soft as others. Now that she herself had become the Xuan paper, she finally understood the paper's hardship.

The stiff bristles brushed across her delicate skin, creating a sensation that was both itchy and sore.

Luo Yueqing seemed to be writing something, but she couldn't make it out. Another spot was taken into a mouth, sharp teeth biting into soft flesh.

Her breathing grew ragged. Her calves unconsciously wrapped around the other's waist, pulling her closer.

A watery sheen appeared in her phoenix eyes, and the shimmering, fragmented light made them look all the more bewitching.

The wooden hairpin fell to the floor at some point with a soft clatter.

The sound startled them both. Luo Yueqing pulled back slightly and asked, "What did I write?"

How could Zhong Jueyu have paid attention to that? But she wasn't one to guess wildly, so she answered honestly, "I wasn't paying attention."

Luo Yueqing said, "Then you should be punished."

The brush tip slid down again. The silk fabric hanging around her neck was pulled open, and then it fell away even more smoothly.

Zhong Jueyu tried to feel it carefully, but she couldn't tell what the other was writing. A stroke here, a line there… even with the Grand Princess's extensive knowledge, she had never seen this character before.

Could it be an obscure character from an ancient text?

Zhong Jueyu never suspected the other was just scribbling randomly; instead, she pondered it with utmost seriousness.

But the more seriously she tried to feel it, the more vivid the sensation became.

No matter how neat it looked, the bristles were inevitably of uneven lengths. Especially after being trimmed, the tips became extremely prickly, making the sensation all the more unbearable.

And Luo Yueqing was being excessive. She deliberately paused over the bruises. Although the medicine had caused them to fade, the skin there was newly healed and more sensitive than anywhere else.

To be honest, Zhong Jueyu hadn't really been able to remember where she was bruised before. Now, the memory was thoroughly ingrained. Even after the brush moved away, the damp spot it left behind still itched intensely.

"What did I write?" Luo Yueqing asked again.

Zhong Jueyu's brow furrowed slightly, a rare look of difficulty in her eyes. She hesitated before saying, "I don't know."

"Foolish," Luo Yueqing said, her voice laced with a smile.

Zhong Jueyu had a competitive nature. Even in such a small matter, she had to have an answer, so she asked, "What is it?"

Luo Yueqing reached out, dipped the brush in the ink beside them, and then set it to skin.

Zhong Jueyu lowered her head to watch closely. Once she got competitive, she exuded an air of seriousness, even in a situation like this.

The brush tip, trailing black ink, moved from her somewhat bony shoulder to her straight collarbone, pressed over the soft rise and fall of her chest, and then descended to her lean abdomen, where the lines of her muscles became more defined with each breath.

Luo Yueqing.

It was actually those three characters.

Zhong Jueyu found it hard to believe. The wet traces elsewhere on her skin reminded her that the previous strokes had not been like this, yet this was what had been written.

"Impossible…" Zhong Jueyu couldn't help but say, being overly serious at a time like this.

"It is."

But the person opposite her was a tyrant, allowing no questions and giving no chance for rebuttal.

But it was understandable. After all, at a time like this, she was more interested in admiring her own work than in debating.

The Grand Princess still held herself high and mighty, but her hair was in disarray, and only half of her robe remained, barely clinging to one shoulder, ready to fall at any moment. The rest of her was covered in the other's name, the ink looking as if it could be seared beneath her skin, branded deep into her flesh and blood.

It felt as if she had been completely pulled down from her pedestal.

Even though her anger had already subsided, she couldn't restrain the wicked impulse that was flooding her heart, as if a demon were driving her to continue.

She switched to another brush.

This time, it was a soft rabbit-hair brush.

The cold sensation descended once more.

Zhong Jueyu couldn't help but hiss.

Outside, the night grew deeper. The only sound was of fallen leaves rustling in the wind. This was already one of the most remote corners of the Luo estate, rarely visited on a normal day, let alone now.

Everything around was utterly silent. The damp patches on the ground outside had finally dried, but the floor inside the room was now wet with new marks. The robe had, in the end, fallen to the floor, tossed far away along with other articles of clothing.

The soft rabbit-hair brush continued its descent, finally touching the place it had been intended for all along.

The person on the desk couldn't help but lean back, trying to escape, only to be pulled back by an arm around her waist.

There was no escape; instead, she was pressed against even more firmly.

The sensation was intensely cold, clearer than when the brush had touched her elsewhere, and it even evoked a different kind of feeling.

After so long, the brush hadn't dried out as it normally would have. On the contrary, it had grown wetter, glistening as if it had absorbed its fill of water.

And then, it went deeper.

The Xuan paper on the desk was crumpled and ruined, completely losing its chance to be mounted on the wall.

The wet patches on the floor grew, pooling and seeping into the cracks between the floorboards, flowing away into the distance.

The legs wrapped around her waist tightened, almost as if trying to constrict the person into her body.

Zhong Jueyu finally felt regret, whispering things like "no" and "stop" into the other's ear, but Luo Yueqing refused, becoming even more excessive.

Outside, the door was pushed open, and a person in brocade robes walked up.

The people inside made no move to hide. Zhong Jueyu was lifted onto a chair, and then Luo Yueqing stood up, her back to the window.

Luo Yueyin stood outside the window. He had no intention of entering his sister's room at a time like this. He simply stood outside and said in a low voice, "I know you're angry, but the Luo Family is not what it used to be. We may look prosperous on the surface, but in reality, we've been constantly suppressed by the imperial family."

Zhong Jueyu heard him in fits and starts, because the other's movements didn't pause at the words from outside. Instead, they probed even deeper.

The ink on her body had dried, looking like black vines coiling up her fair, flushed skin, wrapping her tightly.

Beads of sweat slid down her neck, and her hair fell into greater disarray.

Her tightly bitten lower lip still let slip a low sound or two.

The person outside was still speaking. "You're still young, easily fooled by a few sweet words. How could anyone from the imperial family be so simple?"

"The Grand Princess is calculating and deliberately found ways to get close to you."

"If she truly cared for you, how could she do this to you now? Do you know what the concubine mothers said about you when they saw those marks on your neck?"

He hesitated, then spoke with difficulty, "You are a daughter of our Luo Family. Father has taught you about propriety, righteousness, integrity, and honor since you were a child. Do you understand?"

"I am your elder brother. How could I wish you ill?"

"From now on, you will break things off with her. In the future, she will be your sister-in-law…"

It seemed intentional, as if Luo Yueqing wanted Zhong Jueyu to hear every word clearly. Whenever Zhong Jueyu's mind started to wander, she would stop, like being held at the peak of a high toss, and so she became more and more lucid, lucidly listening to what the person outside was saying.

Luo Yueyin paid no mind to whether she responded. He just looked at her thin silhouette and continued, "I know you don't want to see me, so I won't come in."

"But you must remember what your brother has told you, do you understand?"

"In the future, your brother will arrange another good marriage for you. All you'll have to do is enjoy a life of comfort. You have a free spirit; the imperial family is not suitable for you at all."

Seeing that Luo Yueqing still didn't answer, Luo Yueyin waited a moment longer before turning to leave.

The wooden door was closed once more.

Moonlight spilled into the courtyard.

Fingertips pressed forcefully into the deepest part once more.

Zhong Jueyu tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, her vision turning white, leaving only a ringing in her ears.

After an unknown amount of time, the other person covered her, holding her in an embrace and whispering, "Did you hear that? What kind of trash the Luo Family is."

Zhong Jueyu's thoughts had not yet returned; she only nodded by instinct.

Luo Yueqing kissed the corner of her eye, tasting the salty tear. "I am not the madam's biological child," she said. "I was born to the head of the Luo Family and another woman, and was then adopted under her name."

"They have never liked me, and I don't like them either."

Zhong Jueyu nodded and reached out to hold her tighter.

Luo Yueqing emphasized again, "Zhong Jueyu, I don't like the Luo Family. Do you understand?"

This time, she finally got a response. A voice, extremely hoarse, replied, "I know."

Luo Yueqing tilted her head and bit her earlobe. "I don't care what plans or intentions you have, but don't show them any mercy on my account."

She suddenly gave a light laugh. "I really don't want to call you sister-in-law, you know."

Zhong Jueyu was fully lucid now. She raised her eyes to glare at her, chiding with no real threat, "Don't talk nonsense. That won't happen."

"Is that so?" Luo Yueqing couldn't help but laugh. The hand that had just stopped moved downward again. "Why don't I call you that a few more times now, just in case you get any ideas later because you want to hear it."

Zhong Jueyu had just opened her mouth to retort but made a different sound instead. She once again hooked her arms tightly around the other's neck, her slender waist tensing. The ink marks on her skin faded as her temperature rose.

Time passed. The moon finally rose high in the sky. No stars were visible, only the bright moonlight and drifting clouds.

The fallen leaves on the ground were blown about, finally settling in a corner by the wall, becoming completely still.

The figures by the desk and chair finally moved away. The bed curtains were lowered, and only two blurry silhouettes could be seen inside. The sounds that had been suppressed could finally emerge as soft whispers, echoing in the empty room.

As for the brushes that had been soaking in the basin for so long, half of them remained unused, left behind in the water—a true waste.

More than half the night had passed before the movements inside finally ceased.

Zhong Jueyu lay in the other's arms, promising in a messy, low, and hoarse voice, "Don't be afraid. It will all be over soon."

"I promise no one will ever be able to take you away again."

Her voice was low but held a finality, like an oath.

And then the candle flame was completely extinguished.

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