Chapter 46

Wei Jing, both anxious and furious, held her tightly—his grip so forceful it seemed as though he might strangle her right into her bones.

“Husband, husband—I don’t want you to become like that. Sob, sob… I’m so scared!”

Shao Qing knew all too well that Wei Jing’s heart was gravely ailing; despite having gently tried to dissuade him countless times, nothing had changed. Since he had already begun, she resolved to lay everything out clearly in one breath.

Moreover, tormented by nightmares and illness that left her emotions in turmoil, she simply collapsed into his arms and wept aloud.

Amid her choking sobs and unprecedented sorrow, Wei Jing felt as if an invisible hand had gripped his very organs—twisting them and causing a sharp, piercing pain. He had never realized that he had burdened his wife with so much terror and worry.

Wei Jing had always known that she possessed a deep sense of justice. She had stopped him from murdering the Kou family members to silence them; even if someone like Qu Qian deserved his due punishment, she disapproved of him administering the brutal punishment of gouging out eyes; and with the poisoned-salt scheme, she had exerted every effort to prevent him from seizing the opportunity at hand.

She only feared that his overwhelming guilt might one day drive him to take extreme measures—a fear that, after all, was entirely understandable.

Wei Jing longed to instantly dispel her anxiety, to see her smile again and regain her health. But, alas, there were some emotions that even he could not control.

His mother, brother, nephew, and sister-in-law died a tragic death, their spilled blood paving a road stained with carnage. Along that very path, his father—the emperor who deserved to be damned—pushed the new emperor onto the throne with a single, decisive act.

For a moment, Wei Jing’s face twisted into a ferocious grimace. He could scarcely imagine the depth of pain and despair his dearest ones must have felt in their final moments. He should have made revenge his foremost task at all times!

At any cost, with every last effort, he vowed to unearth his enemies’ coffins, flog their corpses, and dismember them with countless cuts—so that those men, with faces of humanity but hearts of beasts, might also taste the suffering of this world. Their anguished, bloodied cries would be the balm to soothe the spirits of his beloved ones in heaven!

Just as he had sworn in his original oath!

But, alas, he could not achieve that. He did not exhaust every possible means or place revenge above all else. In doing so, he felt he had betrayed his gentle mother and elder brother—and the poor souls of his nephew and sister-in-law.

Overwhelmed by surging thoughts, he was once again engulfed by an all-consuming guilt that left him gasping for breath in unbearable pain. Yet he dared not struggle.

Wei Jing furrowed his brow, and his breathing grew suddenly rapid.

In the past, he would have sunk into that anguish for a long, unyielding stretch, but this time, something was different. A patch of icy coolness pressed against his neck—lightly touching before drifting away, only to return once more.

This… this was his wife’s tears.

Wei Jing was momentarily stunned before quickly regaining his composure. He lowered his gaze and saw Shao Qing’s tragically pale little face streaked with tears.

Weakened by her illness, she had run out of strength; after crying her heart out, she fell into a deep sleep. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face marked with tear-stains, and a few disheveled strands of dark hair, wet with tears, clung to her cheeks and neck. Her complexion was as white as paper—haggard and frail.

A sharp pang constricted Wei Jing’s heart, and he immediately tightened his embrace.

He was not alone—he still had his wife. She was his only companion, and together they had trudged a difficult path, wading through blood and tears. How could he let her suffer any more fear and worry? And how could he ever do anything that would drive her to regret choosing to live?

Recalling Shao Qing’s words, “Why did I ever bother to live in the first place?” Wei Jing trembled with emotion. Even as she slept, he raised his voice urgently: “Stop talking nonsense! You will be alright; we will always be together!”

He could not bear the thought of losing her. In this vast, desolate world, he would be left all alone.

But, but…

Wei Jing’s thoughts were in complete disarray. On one side were his mother, brother, and nephew, who had met a tragic end; on the other was his only remaining wife for the rest of his life. He held Shao Qing in his arms, sitting by the edge of the bed all night.

…

When Shao Qing regained consciousness again, it had already dawned. A hazy light filtered through the thin curtains, making objects visible, although the room remained dim.

She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, not knowing what day or night it was. But soon, she realized that she was resting in the strong embrace of a man. As her gaze lifted upward, she met a jawline with cold, rigid lines and wheat-colored skin that was strikingly familiar.

Wei Jing had held her throughout the night like she had cried herself to sleep earlier. A bittersweet ache filled Shao Qing’s heart. She knew he was in a difficult state, and if nothing could be changed now, even she would feel utterly helpless. Her eyes were warm and uncomfortable, and her head ached; after a bout of crying, she felt utterly drained as a deep fatigue spread through her body.

“Ah Qing.”

Just as Shao Qing was feeling dejected, Wei Jing stirred. He lowered his head to look at her, his eyes clearly showing bloodshot streaks. He reached out and gently stroked her haggard face, his voice hoarse, “I promise you.”

Wei Jing had struggled all night.

She was as important as revenge. Moreover, she was the only cherished attachment he had left in this world.

The departed cannot be reclaimed, yet no mistake can be afforded when it comes to the living. If one day Shao Qing were ever in danger, Wei Jing thought, he would forfeit the chance for revenge to save her first. There will be another opportunity for revenge—but not for her.

Caught in this dilemma, in the end, the east wind overpowered the west wind.

“I promise you, from now on, I will no longer let vengeance make me disregard the lives and deaths of ordinary people, nor will I harm them for that sake.” Wei Jing spoke these words with a furrowed brow, clearly revealing the fierce inner struggle he had undergone.

It was all because of her—because of her, he made this compromise, reluctantly shackling his hatred.

“Good, good!”

After holding her breath in anticipation, Shao Qing was suddenly overcome with joy. She immediately sprang to her knees and clutched him tightly, exclaiming, “Good, that’s wonderful!”

Tears welled in her eyes as she realized that although his inner turmoil still hadn’t been resolved, she knew even more that he wouldn’t lie to her. As long as he could back off a little, if he never repeated such behavior, his mindset would eventually change. He wouldn’t regret it.

The heavy shackles that had weighed down her heart finally fell away. Shao Qing cried and laughed as she tilted her head upward and kissed his chin firmly.

“Thank you!” She was joyful, grateful, and deeply pained for him—a swirl of emotions that was hard to describe. In the end, she could only softly repeat, “Thank you, my husband.”

“Don’t say thank you,” he replied. “Between us, it isn’t necessary. From now on, don’t ever speak those damned words again. You will be alright—we’ll always be together.”

Wei Jing’s furrowed brow betrayed the lingering weight of her words from last night. Feeling a sharp pang at the tip of her nose, Shao Qing hesitated momentarily before raising her hand to wipe away her tear stains and smiling radiantly. “Okay!”

“I’ll listen to you—I won’t ever say it again.”

Her smile and reply, gentle as a murmuring stream, slowly seeped into his heart. The burning anxiety that had built up from suppressing his hatred seemed to ease gradually.

Wei Jing stroked her face with his large hand, wiping away the tear stains with his thumb. He held her in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body, and softly said, “Take good care of your health—don’t give me any worry.”

“Okay.”

They embraced for a long while, and Shao Qing pulled Wei Jing onto the bed. He surely hadn’t closed his eyes all night.

Wei Jing did not refuse; he lay on his back on the large bed, holding her with his left arm.

Shao Qing had hoped he could catch up on some sleep, but after taking her medicine, she fell asleep first.

After a long while, Wei Jing turned his head. Amid the soft sound of her shallow breathing, her face still looked pale, but her brows had eased.

Everything was worth it. He told himself so.

Then, his large hand clenched tightly around hers, holding her hand firmly.

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

……

Once the knot in Shao Qing’s heart was untied, her illness improved remarkably quickly. She was no longer haunted by relentless nightmares or plagued by a low-grade fever. Her vitality gradually returned, and the symptoms of weak limbs slowly disappeared. At last, her serious illness was overcome.

Wei Jing was very pleased, but it wasn’t over yet—she still needed to convalesce. He personally instructed Yan Ming to provide her with meticulous care, leaving no detail overlooked.

Yan Ming curled his lips and turned to prepare quite a few medicinal dishes.

The effect was good, but the taste was very unpleasant.

Of course, Shao Qing valued her health greatly and cooperated fully; yet every time she finished drinking it with a grimace, she couldn’t help but suspect that Yan Ming was merely redirecting the anger he had endured from Wei Jing onto her.

“Ah, it’s too bitter—are all these medicinal dishes this bitter?” She gulped it down with her eyes closed, nearly vomiting. Hastily, she covered her mouth and looked upward, shutting her eyes as she endured the churning in her stomach.

“Is it very bitter?” Wei Jing quickly brought her some water to rinse her mouth. His brows were tightly furrowed as he said, “Tomorrow, I’ll have Yan Ming adjust the recipe again.”

He had never tasted these medicinal dishes himself, but his mother, the empress dowager, used to eat them regularly—he remembered how she would always partake calmly, her brow relaxed. So why were they like this now?

“Forget it. Let it be as it is.”

Better not mess around any further; she’s just venting a bit.

“It actually worked pretty well—I feel much better after taking it.”

The lingering weakness from her recent severe illness gradually subsided, and every time she finished the medicinal meal, Shao Qing always felt a gentle warmth radiating through her chest and abdomen. That soothing flow of heat seemed to replenish her depleted vitality, giving her an indescribable sense of fullness, and even the recent symptoms of cold hands and feet disappeared.

Wei Jing picked up a piece of candied fruit, and she opened her mouth to catch it. She smiled at him, and he naturally wrapped his arms around her, studying her complexion carefully.

Though the sagging flesh on Shao Qing’s cheeks hadn’t grown back overnight, her pallor had faded; her skin had regained a rosy glow and shone with a luster reminiscent of mutton-fat jade. Her eyes sparkled crisply, their lively gleam radiating brilliance.

“Husband?” She called out to him—a deliberately elongated, coquettish tone that was no longer weak but seemed to dance with vibrant energy.

Wei Jing’s heart instantly lightened. Although Yan Ming’s herbal diet was difficult to drink and had caused his wife some discomfort, its effects were truly excellent—otherwise, why wouldn’t he ask if they could improve its taste?

“Hmm.” He replied warmly, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Shao Qing knelt on his lap, propping herself up so that her eyes met his. “Husband, I’m all better now. When do you think I can finally go out?”

The severe illness had really frightened Wei Jing, and he was now extremely strict. With winter already upon them, he wouldn’t even let her step outside, insisting she remain indoors to rest and recover.

Shao Qing agreed—after all, catching a chill was no trivial matter as she cherished her health. Yet, now that her illness was behind her and she had entered the stage of recuperation with the medicinal food regimen, if she were to continue doing nothing, she’d feel stifled.

“I can take over my shift now—I promise not to overexert myself.”

Since things were still busy, Shao Qing felt she could help shoulder some of the work; it was well within her capabilities.

In the past, she would have decided on her own without hesitation, but Wei Jing had just made a difficult concession for her, and feeling deeply moved, she wanted to go along with him even more. Moreover, he cared about her well-being and was perfectly reasonable, so there was nothing wrong with that.

Wei Jing furrowed his brows. “No. Yan Ming said you still need to recuperate for two months, and during that time, you must not strain yourself too much.”

He was also worried that confining her might make her uncomfortable, so he added, “It’s fine for you to go out and get some fresh air—just remember to dress warmly enough so you don’t catch a chill.”

“Two months?” Shao Qing’s eyes widened. Two months of doing nothing? She immediately retorted, “Yan Ming said I shouldn’t overexert myself, so why can’t I go on duty?”

Why must she be on leave for two whole months?

Embroidery? No, no. Calligraphy or painting? That’s out, too. Reading? Well, that might work—but the county governor’s library is full of serious classical texts and biographies. After skimming through two of them, she finds them hardly appealing.

“How about we call Yan Ming tomorrow and ask if I can get on duty?”

Shao Qing was unwilling, but Wei Jing didn’t authorize it. After thinking for a moment, he said, “How about you rest for another half month? Handling official duties can wait until then.”

“But you must promise me that you won’t overexert yourself.”

With his face pressed against hers, he murmured softly. Even though Shao Qing believed she was already well enough, she still relented.

“Alright.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and mumbled, “But you have to send someone out to purchase some travelogue books for me—I don’t like reading these.”

Glancing at the hefty tomes on the small table, she felt that reading those books was no easier than taking care of official business.

The candlelight flickered, casting a dim yellow glow. Under its soft light, her expressive eyes danced, full of life. Wei Jing’s expression relaxed. “Alright, tomorrow I’ll make a trip to the eastern outskirts camp. On my way back, I’ll buy it for you. Which one do you want?”

“Uh, you’re buying it? Then I want…”

Author’s Note: This time, Wei Jing made a compromise purely because of Ah Qing. His emotional burden is too heavy—resolving it all at once isn’t realistic. But as long as his actions are restrained, the rest can be left to time.