Confession (Part 2)

The surrounding clamor of voices and colorful lights suddenly faded into a blurred background.

Zhiwei stood frozen in place, watching Zhu Liji depart into the distance.

"Knowing the subtle!"

A familiar voice pierced through the crowd, carrying an obvious urgency.

Zhu Mingyu pushed through the crowd and strode forward, his forehead still covered in fine beads of sweat.

"There were too many people, which wasted time," he explained.

"What's wrong? Your face is so pale." Zhu Mingyu frowned and reached out to touch her forehead. "Where's Shao Zhao? Did you lose her while following her?"

Zhu Mingyu hasn't changed; when he gets concerned, he talks on and on.

Zhiwei took a deep breath, the night wind filling her lungs and jolting her awake from her melancholy.

"Zhu Mingyu," Zhiwei said, her voice surprisingly flat, with a hint of heaviness, "I want to stay in the capital and become a lady-in-waiting in the imperial kitchen."

Zhu Mingyu's expression instantly brightened, like a torch being lit: "Really? That's great!"

He almost exclaimed with joy, instinctively reaching for Zhiwei's hand, but then stopped abruptly, a faint blush rising on his wheat-colored face.

He rubbed his fingertips together: "My father... His Majesty has ascended the throne, and the palace is in dire need of capable people. Your skills will surely stand out."

Zhu Mingyu spoke rapidly, his overflowing joy and enthusiasm almost palpable.

But this enthusiasm made Wei's heart flutter with unease.

Seeing his animated expression, she interrupted Zhu Mingyu, saying wearily, "I'm a little tired."

Zhu Mingyu's joy froze abruptly. He stared blankly at Zhiwei, his phoenix eyes, dimmed by the lamplight, now clouded with a layer of gloom.

It wasn't just being tired; it was something deeper, something Zhu Mingyu couldn't put into words.

“You…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice deepened, “If you are unwilling, you don’t have to force yourself.”

"If you don't like it, you can go wherever you want—in the capital, in Lingnan, or at the ends of the earth. Open your restaurant, as big as you want, and don't be afraid of local powers. I said I'd protect you, and I will! Even if the sky falls, I'll hold it up!"

Zhu Mingyu's tone was resolute. Zhiwei stared at him, displaying a kind of straightforwardness that said, "I have the biggest fist, so I call the shots." These words were loud, yet sincere, as if Zhu Mingyu could immediately stand up for her if she nodded.

Seeing him like this, Zhiwei felt a crack melt in the ice of gloom in her heart, thanks to his fiery temper.

She tugged at the corners of her mouth, forming a very faint arc, tinged with a hint of mockery, yet concealing a deeper probing: "Why are you saying this? Is it really worth risking everything for that little bit of 'revolutionary camaraderie' in Lingnan? To stand up for me, even risking your life?"

"Let me make this clear first, I won't stand up for you," Zhi said with a smile.

"So what?" Zhu Mingyu interrupted Zhiwei, took half a step forward, and said with a firm and solemn expression.

Zhiwei stopped smiling.

Zhu Mingyu took another step forward and reached up to Zhiwei's forearm.

The two instantly closed the distance, close enough to see the flickering light in each other's eyes.

"Zhiwei." Zhu Mingyu called her name softly, his voice gentle, like warm wine. "Why do you think... I'm willing to stand up for you?"

Or to put it another way.

"In this life, you can fight for your ideals and for freedom, and so can I. For whom am I willing to give my life, and for whom am I willing to die? Are you completely oblivious?"

His words were firm and resolute.

Zhu Mingyu's deep eyes were fixed on Zhiwei, a clear heat surging within them.

Zhiwei wanted to back away, but the gaze was too intense and too direct.

Like a scorching searchlight, it wanted to peer into the deepest, softest, and most private parts of her heart, to shine directly into the desolation within her heart, leaving her nowhere to hide.

What exactly is love?

Is it about needing, or being needed?

Zhiwei was unaware that, whether in her past life or this one, she had never been chosen with certainty.

After all, she was ugly, shrewish, and savage. Sometimes she acted without thinking and was proud of her cleverness, causing trouble for many people.

Even so, even though she was someone who had been disliked since her past life, would Zhu Mingyu still be willing to choose and follow her without hesitation?

Is it her? It's actually her?

Was she originally like this?

He remained silent, knowing the subtle signs.

boom--!

A deafening roar ripped through the night sky.

Countless dazzling fireworks soared into the sky, streaks of light shooting straight up the heavens and bursting open with a roar in the inky black sky.

A shower of stars poured down from the sky.

Countless burning fireworks were shaken down by the heavens and scattered across the earth, weaving a magnificent and dazzling curtain of light.

Crimson gold, flowing silver, azure blue, crimson purple... dazzling light illuminated half the sky, as well as the flowing water beneath the bridge and the astonished faces of pedestrians on the bridge.

Zhiwei raised her eyes, her gaze focusing.

In the midst of this deafening brilliance and clamor, Zhu Mingyu seemed to be in another silent barrier.

He stood apart from the crowd, the sunlight shimmering and shifting on his face, outlining his slightly flushed cheeks.

Zhiwei took a deep breath, the rich smell of gunpowder mixed with the faint aroma of firewood filling her lungs.

In the brief daylight illuminated by fireworks, amidst the deafening roar, Zhu Mingyu's voice clearly pierced through the noise and landed in her ear.

“I have never thought you were insignificant or uncouth. Manager Yan from Lingnan is charming, and the future Imperial Chef Yan in the palace will surely shine brightly as well.”

Some are captivated by your appearance, some admire your culinary skills, and some are obsessed with your potential.

But to me, you are only Zhiwei, and you are only meant to be Zhiwei.

"This is the kind of you I love. This is the kind of you I want to protect for the rest of my life."

Fireworks lit up and faded in the sky, but those last words, light as a sigh, struck her heart with a weight that seemed to strike her directly.

——

The hustle and bustle was shut out by the heavy gates of the mansion, and the lantern festival seemed like a thing of the past.

Zhiwei stepped into the private room that Cheng Yuzhi had carefully arranged, her steps a little unsteady.

The fingertips seemed to still retain the warmth of the fireworks burning the air, and even more so, the touch of Zhu Mingyu's burning gaze.

"Sister!" Shao Zhao sprang up from the soft couch by the window like a jubilant rabbit, her face still flushed and her eyes shining brightly. "You're back! The lantern market was so lively! Brother Sun, he..."

Shao Zhao was incoherent, her cheeks flushed, clearly still immersed in the date she had just been on, her whole being enveloped in a sweet and cloying atmosphere.

Looking at Shao Zhao's innocent and love-struck appearance, Zhiwei saw herself reflected in her face for a moment.

My ears suddenly caught fire, and my lips still felt warm.

Zhiwei blinked and slipped on the edge of the couch.

"Sister, sister, do you think I should confess to Brother Sun? Actually, I wanted to invite him for tea tonight, but he only saw me to the front door and wouldn't even step over the threshold..." Shao Zhao was still chattering in her ear, but Zhiwei had already stopped hearing him, her mind wandering to some distant place.

.

"Whoa—!"

Then, a deafening wail erupted, and the door to the room was violently flung open.

A small, bullet-like figure rushed in, carrying grievances and fear, and buried itself in Zhiwei's arms, only then did she slowly come to her senses.

It's Zhu Sheng.

The little guy was crying so hard he could barely breathe, his face turning red, clutching a specially made little wooden sword tightly in his hand, his face covered in tears and snot.

"I don't want to practice anymore! Sheng'er doesn't want to practice swordsmanship anymore! My hands hurt so much! Waaah, Sister Zhiwei, please save Sheng'er..."

Cheng Yuzhi followed him in, looking helpless: "Miss Zhiwei, I'm sorry to have troubled you."

The old woman behind her, Granny Jiang, stepped forward and tried to pry Zhu Sheng's hands off Zhiwei: "Little ancestor, don't cry. Tomorrow the Empress will be there in person, and she is counting on you to perform a sword dance to make your grandmother happy."

"Didn't you say that you hadn't seen her for a long time and that you most wanted to see Grandma smile at you?"

"And His Highness the Crown Prince will also be proud of your sword dance." The nanny's voice was gentle, but Zhu Sheng was not swayed by her coaxing.

“Father…” Zhu Sheng sobbed, raising his tear-filled face, his little mouth pouting in grievance, “How could Father be proud of me? Just now in the courtyard, he only glanced at me from afar and said that my movements were ‘weak and powerless’.”

"Waaah... Ke Sheng'er has been practicing from morning till night, and he can't even lift his hand anymore."

"Mother, does Father...do he hate Sheng'er?" That cautious yet desperately yearning look in his eyes was heartbreaking.

Zhiwei and Shaozhao both fell silent.

For the first time, Cheng Yuzhi's gentle and quiet face betrayed her true feelings. She forced a polite smile and said, "How could that be? Father, Father really likes Sheng'er very much."

Cheng Yuzhi used her strength to pull Zhu Sheng off Zhiwei: "Miss Zhiwei, I'm so sorry."

The group left with Zhu Sheng, who was crying and complaining.

Zhiwei and Shaozhao looked at each other without saying a word.

Who could imagine that even a small child harbors such heavy expectations, carrying a burden of ingratiation and fear that is not appropriate for his age?

——

The flower hall of the Zhu family's villa was brightly lit and filled with the fragrance of incense.

The banquet had begun, and dishes as exquisite as works of art were served in a continuous stream. Empress Shen Danxi sat at the head of the table.

Time seems to have been exceptionally kind to this female general who once commanded armies on the battlefield.

She wore a deep purple palace dress, her hair was styled in a high bun, adorned only with a single, lustrous white jade phoenix hairpin. Her brows still hinted at the heroic spirit she once possessed, as if she had once charged into battle with a spear.

As the years have passed, she has matured and, as an empress, gained an air of dignified composure and serenity.

Shen Danxi's gentle gaze swept over everyone at the table, lingering briefly on Zhu Mingyu and Zhiwei standing beside him, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

Zhu Liji sat to her left, his expression as indifferent as ever. He occasionally whispered a few words to his mother, the empress, his posture respectful yet distant.

Cheng Yuzhi sat beside him, her demeanor impeccable, but her gaze would occasionally drift towards Zhu Sheng, who was engrossed in eating his snacks, with a hint of worry in her eyes.

The atmosphere at the banquet was filled with the fragrance of fine clothes and the tinkling of precious ornaments and delicacies.

Zhiwei was wearing the newly delivered spring clothes. The fabric was soft and delicate, but it felt like an invisible shackle, making her feel uncomfortable all over.

Zhiwei lowered his hands and tried to calm his breathing.

There is a warm power to hold onto the subtle.

Zhiwei looked down and saw Zhu Mingyu holding her fingertips, his eyes filled with undisguised concern.

Isn't she the Empress? Isn't she the future, possible mother-in-law?

There's no need to worry.

Zhu Mingyu's eyes were encouraging.