The Legend of Chu Qiao: Division 11’s Princess Agent

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

As Yushu left, Nalan started to cough. A few physicians on duty ran into Zhaoyang Palace hurriedly to take her pulse and concoct medicine, remaining busy for over four hours. An intense scent of medicinal herbs lingered around the palace. Nalan Hongye laid on her bed as she continued to pant non-stop which had been the case since the morning. The color on her face had been drained.

"Madam Empress, I've heard that Your Majesty is staying at Qinglu Palace tonight. There's no one by his side to serve him."

Nalan held her hand close to her chest. Weakly, she asked, "Isn't Lady Cheng at Qinglu Palace?"

"No. Lady Cheng's period is here. She's recuperating in Hongfang."

Nalan nodded and thought for a while before replying, "The weather is getting colder. Go and instruct Cao Qiu and the rest of the slaves to be more vigilant. Don't let Your Majesty catch a cold."

"Yes."

As Wen Yuan prepared to leave, Nalan opened her mouth and said, "Forget it. No need to go." Then, she turned around to face the inner side of the room. Her soft voice drifted over lightly, "No need to wake me up for dinner. I want to sleep."

"Yes, Madam."

It had been five years since Yan Xun established his empire. Just like many emperors before, the back palace had started to liven up. Countless beauties streamed into the palace; some were petite, some appeared cold, some were educated, and some were adorable. It seemed like all the beauties in the world congregated in this palace as the mood remained lively.

Alas, Nalan Hongye had been unable to conceive, despite being in the palace for four years. Instead, it was the other concubines that did so; Cheng Yuan's sister, Lady Cheng, had given birth to a pair of twins. Her status had been elevated to the point where it was enough to pose a threat to her. ( )

As for him, he had not entered Zhaoyang Palace for a long time. If not for Yushu, who brought Yong'er here, he would not have visited today.

As the sun set and the moon rose, a pair of red candles burned brightly in the room. Nalan Hongye, who had been reduced to sticks and bones, snuggled in her blanket as she coughed non-stop. Perhaps, she had stopped thinking about that long ago.

Six years ago, on the day where the various empires met under the pass, the news of the birth of Qinghai's little prince spread around West Meng. As the health of the little prince had been affected while he was still in his mother's womb, it was almost a stillborn birth. Chu Qiao's life hung by a string as well, due to her poor health. The king of Qinghai's love for his wife was well-known, from the fact that he gave up the chance to fight it out with Yan Xun to conquer the world, for her.

Qinghai issued a notice, promising a huge reward for any physician that managed to save them. It was heard that Mister Qingzhu from Maoling had exemplary medical skills, but he refused to enter Qinghai on the grounds that it was a barbaric territory. The king of Qinghai, in the middle of the alliance between Yan Bei and Song, led 3,000 elite troops out of Cuiwei Pass personally towards Maoling to abduct Mister Qingzhu. Ultimately, Chu Qiao and her son's lives were saved.

The day that this news spread was the day of their marriage, which was according to her wishes, which she had kept in her heart for many years. She opened the invitation to see their names on top, which he had personally written.

Yan Xun, Nalan Hongye.

Their names were side by side, with each stroke carefully written. Her fingertips brushed across the invitation letter, stopping at the phrase, "Wishing the couple eternal companionship and unity". It was a simple congratulatory phrase, but it caused her to tear.

That evening, the both of them hosted a banquet at Hehuan Palace. The almond trees in the courtyard outside were in full bloom; as the wind blew past, red and pink petals were scattered everywhere. He sat in front of her, a calm look on his face. He was full of words, but he did not speak much. He did not appear rude, but not overly close either.

Nalan Hongye wanted to reveal her past, which she had hidden for a long time but hesitated due to the cold look on his face. As night fell, he prepared to leave. Desperate, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by his personal bodyguard, who told him about some urgent military matters that he had to attend to.

The king of Qinghai was about to approach Maoling.

Yan Xun's cold expression changed instantly as he ordered the troops to congregate around the area of Maoling. The aim was to block the king of Qinghai out for one day. However, before his bodyguard walked out of the room, he stopped him. As the setting sun shone on his face, he outstretched his hand halfway, assuming a posture where he wanted to speak, but did not. The almond flower petals lingered in mid-air for a while, before falling to the ground.

"Forget it," he put down his hand and reverted to his calm posture.

"Forget it?" the bodyguard was stunned and replied subconsciously.

Yan Xun raised his eyebrows slowly, not speaking a word. His gaze circled around coldly on the bodyguard's face. The bodyguard knelt on the ground, scared out of his wits. Then, he exited the room swiftly.

As the sky darkened, Yan Xun turned around and smiled at Nalan Hongye, giving her a piece of bamboo shoot. Then, he said, "Have more of these, it's good for your body."

Having been through numerous ups and downs all her life, she had cultivated her vital spirit to the point of perfection. She nodded in reply, "Thank you, Your Majesty." Although this encounter was trivial and quickly forgotten by other people, she remembered it vividly.

That evening, under the sunset, a realization dawned upon her. However, it was only that she had refused to acknowledge it for many years.

A low coughing sound echoed out from inside the palace. Wen Yuan, who was in the outer palace, put some spices in the incense pot and frowned lightly.

The moonlight was beautiful outside. The winter in Zhen Huang was about to approach again.

As Yushu had taken a nap in the day, she did not feel tired at night. She wore a cloak and picked up a lantern, walking to Yong'er's room. He was an obedient child as he remained sound asleep, not kicking his blanket aside. His mouth moved slightly as if he was eating something in his dream.

Yushu sat beside his bed. The winds were quiet; the smoke from the incense pot drifted up in circles. She reached out her hand to touch her son's face but hesitated as she did not want to cause him to catch a cold. She traced her fingers on his forehead and smiled.

The drums to signal the middle of the night struck. She felt at peace.

She stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she turned back, she saw the candlelight in the room.

That moment, she was stunned.

Just like thousands of time before, she stood there quietly and watched on.

It had been five years. The dust had settled; the officials in court had somewhat forgotten about him. Even the civilians who lived by the sea, who had used to pray for him, had swapped his tablet on their altars away for that of their own families.

Everyone had forgotten about him, his achievements, his contributions, what he looked like, and the heavy price he paid for his country. She was the only person who burned a candle every night in his study, in remembrance of him.

She did not dare to approach him, just like when he was alive. She had even handed the soup that she had personally prepared to the maidservants.

He said that he had state matters to attend to, requesting not to be disturbed. She believed him.

He said that he had urgent military matters to attend to, requesting not to be disturbed. She believed him.

He said that he would be busy till late in the night, so he would sleep in his study. He told her not to wait up for him. She believed him.

She was a silly woman. No matter what her man said, she believed him. However, she wanted to speak up sometimes, complaining about her treatment, which was no different from that of a servant. She wanted to tell him that she was his wife and not an outsider. She wanted to tell him that she slept late every night; he did not need to worry about waking her up. However, she did not speak up. Perhaps, she was shy.

Hence, she sat by the window and looked at his brightly-lit study, all the way until the lights were extinguished. Only then was she able to sleep in peace. Sometimes, she thought to herself Does this count as sleeping together too? However, as she thought of these matters, her face turned red in embarrassment.

Every time she went back to her home, her sister would tell her that her husband was having an extramarital affair outside. She would react angrily in his defense, not allowing anyone to defame her husband. However, due to her ineloquence, she was unable to convince her sisters. Slowly, she returned to her home less and less.

She knew that she had the best husband in the world. He was upright, kind, talented, revered, educated, and poetic. He did not drink at home, nor did he get drunk outside while socializing. He did not marry a second wife nor engage in vices. He was the most well-known commander in the military. He neglected her due to his busy schedule sometimes, but so what? Compared to her mother, her sisters, and the concubines who engaged in their internal politics, she was much better off than them.

He was her husband, her sky, and her world.

Wasn't she supposed to trust him, take care of him, and wait for him? How could she suspect, defame, or harbor unhappiness towards him?

Furthermore, despite his demise, she continued to revel in his legacy. Most importantly, he left behind their child, which was the most precious thing to her.

There was nothing to be unhappy about.

She smiled innocently. She tugged at her cloak and spoke to herself, "I'll buy some paper for the windows tomorrow. The weather is getting cold. I should change the papers in the study."