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

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

Back when she sent Xuan Mo to the Southeast, she did not want to kill him, and neither did she want to take away his command of the army.

At that time, the Song Empire was at its weakest as various military factions were secretly beginning to act against the royal family. She had intended to borrow Yan Bei's power to save the Nalan Family and to protect the civilians from the flames of war. Yet, those stubborn old guards refused to accept such a solution. At that time, whoever gave the country away, whoever would become the eternal traitor of the nation and forever remembered as the betrayer. She did not want the loyal Xuan Mo to be the one, and as such, she shifted him far away from the center. She was also worried that his soldiers would make more trouble. Should his subordinates agree in unison to stir up trouble, even if Xuan Mo did not agree, with Yan Xun as the ruler, the officials of Yan Bei would undoubtedly try to push the blame onto him. As such, she took away his subordinates and pushed him to lead the navy, who was completely irrelevant.

Yet, no matter how she had calculated, she had not expected that the bandits would attack the military installations while Song sank into civil unrest. And in addition, she had not expected that with such high appointment, Xuan Mo would personally head into the battlefield.

Thinking about it, her current situation now was really just karma. Being involved in politics for so long, her hands were stained with blood. With one order, thousands of heads would roll. She had never regretted her choices, so she understood her situation. She completely understood that she deserved it.

As such, when she realized that Yan Xun had been visiting her every month during her safe days, she suddenly understood that he had not truly wanted her to be his wife, to give birth to his kids. Even though she had promised the Song Court that she would maintain the position of the Song Empire, but she did not enforce it. She did not want everything between her and Yan Xun to be branded as political.

That was probably the first time that she was stubborn and selfish in her life.

Afterward, each time they spent the night, she would eat contraceptive herbs and kill off any worries he had. Later, he came even more rarely. As of now, he had not spent the night with her for nearly two years.

All her life, whatever she craved was like sand that escaped her grasp through the gaps in her fingers. The more she tried to grab hold of them tightly, the faster they slipped away. In the end, nothing was left.

With the flames burning, each letter was eventually burnt up. The flames burnt away the last correspondence and evidence of their past. Bit by bit, along with her broken life, it was completely burnt up.

Some love was sweet. Some love was all about being burdened. She had let Xuan Mo down and felt an eternal sense of regret. Now that she was about to die, why should she let him know everything and feel bad about it all?

This life of his was tough enough. Why would she sprinkle salt on his wounds?

Burn, Burn it all.

All people could see his prosperity and wealth, power and authority, yet only she could see that under all that layers of the facade, his heart was completely worn out. It was not that he did not want to love, it was just that he could not afford to love.

She was the same as him, and carried on her too many responsibilities. She could not afford to be selfish, rash, passionate, much less naive.

Burn, burn it all…

The immense smoke rose up as she started to cough violently again. A warm liquid started to flow down again. At that moment, memories flashed before her eyes. It was spring again, as the white flower petals floated down as he stood in the garden. Looking back, his eyes were crystal clear. Wearing a smile, he looked at her with interest as he teased, "Are you lost? Which palace did you come from?"

She was dressed like a boy, and her face was completely red. She gathered enough courage to speak, yet she was exceedingly soft. "I…I am the son of Anling King of the Song Empire… I am Xuan Mo…"

Perhaps, the very first move was already wrong.

No matter how beautiful the memory was, it was ultimately covered by a thick layer of dust from the passage of time. Even though the sky looked the same, it was no longer the same clouds, and one could no longer see the naivety and purity. What was remaining was merely the broken walls and fleeting shadows. The amusing thing was, those simple days were precisely the days that she could never seem to forget.

In his life, there were two people who were held extremely dear to him. One he had chased away, the other became his dearest brother, forever living in his heart.

Yet, unfortunately, she would never be one of them.

Even though the entire room was bright, she felt like there was a veil of redness obscuring her vision, causing everything to seem so miserable and dark.

All her life she had endured, but ultimately, all still turned to null, disappearing into the stream of history. After being in control of thousands of thousands of lives, she merely felt fatigue in the fleeting memories.

The letter in her hand suddenly fell to the ground like snow. The black ashes in the firepot flew up, spewing the tongues of the flames. Smiling bitterly to the end, her wrist fell weakly.

Five years after the Grand Ancestor of Yan established the dynasty, 4th of December, in the snowing night, Empress Nalan passed away in Dongnan Palace.

"Your Majesty, we found it."

Yan Xun turned around. By now, the Dongnan Palace had completely quietened down with no one in the great palace. The mourning period of the Empress had long been over, and the servants in the Dongnan palace had been reassigned to various other palaces. The only ones who stayed were two old servants who were in charge of cleaning the building day and night in shifts.

Opening the case, he could see that it was a dull golden robe filled with embroideries, with words of blessings by the two collars. It looked so simple, yet elegant. The only matter was that the sleeves were torn and patched up. If one did not pay much attention, they would not know it was once torn.

Yan Xun stood there and looked at it for a long time. Finally, he lifted his head up and handed the clothes to the servant, saying, "Return to the palace."

"Understood."

The servants followed behind him. The palace gates opened, allowing the cold wind to enter, stirring up the dust in the palace. The sunlight was rather piercing as he squinted. Standing by the door, he suddenly turned around and looked at that bed that was behind layers and layers of curtains. It was as though everything was still one month ago when she sat there and asked, "Tonight, I will inform the servants to prepare more dishes. Emperor, won't you come again?"

Emperor, won't you come again?

The sunlight pierced into his heart as he suddenly felt the onset of desolation. It was but a small delay, but hardly did he expect that it became an eternal farewell. His brows lightly frowned then relaxed. Slowly, he pushed aside that feeling of desolation.

Just as he was about to step out, he suddenly smelled something burning. Turning around, he saw that there was a maidservant squatting, burning something. He was slightly taken aback as he brought people over.

Seeing him, that lady was stunned. Immediately she jumped up and knelt on the ground, greeting him. Watching her, Yan Xun asked, "You are Wenyuan. You previously serving the Empress?"

"Indeed, this servant is Wenyuan."

"Why are you here?"

"These were Empress' belonging. Before passing on, the Empress informed me to burn these things up. After being sent to Lady Anpin, I did not have the time to come back. Finally, I managed to find some time, so I am here to take care of it."

Seeing how Wenyuan was wearing clothes that showed she was a lowly servant, and the fact that her neck had a faint red mark, Yan Xun could immediately tell that after the Empress had passed on, Wenyuan had certainly been bullied. After thinking for a while, he asked, "Where is your family?"

Wenyuan was taken aback as she had not expected that the emperor would ask about that. She immediately replied, "This servant came here with the Empress. My family is in Song."

"Do you have any relatives?"

"Your Majesty, I have my elderly parents, three elder brothers, two elder sisters, and one younger sister."

Yan Xun nodded. He instructed the servant beside him, "Inform the department of servants. Bestow upon her the honorary rank of Rank Four Official, and give her a permanent allowance equivalent to a Rank Five Official. In addition, give her a hundred pounds of gold. She may return to her hometown today."

"Understood, this servant remembers."

Wenyuan was completely stunned into silence as she merely knelt there and did not speak.

Interestingly it was that servant that teased her, "Honorary Official, are you so happy that you forgot how to speak? Are you not going to thank His Majesty?"

Tears raced out from her eyes as she knocked her head on the ground, prostrating and calling out, "Thank you for your kindness! Thank you, Your Majesty, for your kindness!"

Yan Xun spoke no more. His gaze stopped momentarily on the ground full of white paper before turning around and leaving.

The snow had already stopped, the sky was so blue, like a puddle of water. The wind blew a certain letter up; the piece of paper chased after that man.

Many years ago, under a single candle, a dying general used all his strength to write this letter. This letter had passed through many people's hands, yet none felt any strangeness while reading it. It was but a letter addressed to the Emperor of Yan, as it detailed the information about Song's military strength and reserves, and information about each and every unit.

Yet, in the world, there were only three people who could understand the true meaning hidden in the letter. Two of them were around no longer.

With powerful strokes, the words seemed to exude strength as it was stamped with Xuan Mo's name stamp. Yet, the words were definitely not the same handwriting as the one who had communicated with Yan Xun for so many years.

The wind continued to blow as the letter chased after Yan Xun, fluttering as the flames started to engulf the letter. The flames scorched the letterhead, burnt past the greetings, devoured the formalities, gobbled up the middle portion…

The wind suddenly got stronger as the letter flew up ever higher, almost catching up with the person in front, yet a pear tree suddenly appeared before it. The letter hung high up on the tree. It missed the man in front by merely a few meters.

Yan Xun was stunned as he stared at that tree. He was suddenly reminded of the fact that the very first time he had met Xuan Mo was at this very location. Back then, Xuan Mo was lost, and had accidentally come here. His face was flushed red and looked more like a shy little girl.

"Your Majesty?" The servant asked, "Your Majesty?"

Yan Xun returned to his senses as he lightly acknowledged the servant before resuming his journey back to the palace.

The flames slowly burnt upwards. Under the blockage of the pear tree, that letter which had not been sent out for over five years was slowly smothered by the red snakes of fire. Finally, all that was left was a pile of black ashes. As the winds blew past, the ashes scattered into oblivion.

Far away, the maidservant had picked up all the other letters and poured them all into the firepot. The flames shot up from the sudden influx of fuel, and radiated with a newfound warmth.

Such deep emotions, yet such a shallow fate.

It had always been like that, since forever.

According to the historical archives:

Six years after the establishment of the Empire, Empress Nalan's tomb was completed. It is situated South of the Yan Bei Luori Mountain.

23 years later, the Grand Ancestor Yan passed away and was buried in the Taichi Tomb. It is situated North of Luori Mountain, and overlooks the tomb of Empress Nalan.

The tributary of Chishui, the Qianhua river passed by this area, and flowed through the two tombs. As the snow that frequently fell on the river resembled the white flowers of the pear tree, this river was also known as the Pear Flower River.