Spring is mostly heartless (Part 3)

“His Majesty gave you three days, and now there is only one day left.” Outside the tent, Zhiwei, wrapped in a thick blanket, sat side by side with Jiang Tan by the fire.

Ah Qing, who stole "Snow-capped Emerald Green," has been found, but an unexpected incident occurs.

Just now, the two men brought Ah Qing, who was tied up, to the site where the tea dregs were being processed.

Aqing pointed to a well and explained that she had poured all the tea dregs into the bottom of the well.

As night fell, Zhiwei and Jiang Tan looked down into the well, which was a long-abandoned, dry well.

It was too dark; I couldn't see anything.

Jiang Qin instructed the soldiers to prepare ropes and go down to search for tea dregs after dawn. In this way, the theft case was somewhat brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

As for Aqing, he will inevitably suffer punishment.

Zhiwei understood the meaning behind Jiang Qin's words, but Aqing did not.

As if he had anticipated this, he climbed to the well's edge while everyone was distracted, and then, with a loud crash, red liquid poured into the dry well—

——

“Three bodies came up from the bottom of the well.” Through the firelight, Zhiwei reviewed the soldiers’ exploration notes. “Besides Aqing, one of them is quite old, and the other looks like he died two or three days ago.”

"I heard he was also a long-suffering laborer," Zhiwei added.

Jiang Qin stared silently at the fire, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

He opened his mouth and asked only, "Where is the original snow-capped peak shrouded in green?"

"The soldiers searched the bottom of the well for most of the day, from dawn to dusk, a whole day, but found nothing. It seems that Aqing lied to them."

“Although the tea was already moldy, it’s undrinkable even if we find it.” Zhiwei lowered her head, her voice as soft as a sigh. “The more troublesome thing right now is that we can’t even find the tribute tea dregs. Even if we know it was already spoiled, without evidence, the Siamese side won’t acknowledge it.”

“They will only think that Da Zhao is making excuses and making up some reason to fool them.”

"In the end, it's still a dead end." The night breeze grew colder, and Jiang Qin gave a bitter smile.

"This outcome was actually expected."

With only one day left until the end of the hunt, his life was hanging by a thread.

This outcome should have been predicted long ago.

Jiang Qin remained silent for a moment, then walked to the center of the grassland and took out a jade flute from his bosom.

With the flute held to his lips, a clear and ethereal melody flowed out, neither sad nor joyful, like a cold spring under the moon, piercing through the stillness.

The sound of the flute mingled with the sound of the wind, bringing tears to one's eyes.

Zhiwei kicked a pebble by the roadside: "You're almost dead, and you still have the mind to play the flute?"

"Why don't you try to plead with His Majesty? Or perhaps the Crown Prince?" Zhiwei paused. "Aren't you two quite close? If you go and beg him, you might still be able to save your life. What isn't more important than living?"

Besides, Zhiwei lowered her eyes, recalling Zhu Liji's red-eyed reaction two days ago. She thought that Zhu Liji, to some extent, also cared about Jiang Qin.

Jiang Qin shook his head.

"I don't want to bother him anymore."

“He is the crown prince. He shouldn’t offend a powerful monarch for the sake of me, the son of a prostitute. Besides, His Majesty wouldn’t want to see political conflicts arising from saving me.”

"What a load of bull! He can't even protect the people around him. What's the point of being a crown prince?" Zhiwei couldn't stand it anymore and didn't understand where Jiang Qin's inexplicable sense of unworthiness came from. She kicked her leg up.

"There's no question of 'should' or 'shouldn't.' What if they're also trying their best to save you? Wouldn't that be hurting their feelings?"

Although Zhu Liji is a block of ice, he is cold enough in himself.

Zhiwei couldn't understand Jiang Qin's awkwardness too much. For her, wanting to live was enough; there was no need for further hesitation.

Jiang Tan put down his flute.

“I shouldn’t have lived this long.” His voice was as calm as water. “My mother was a prostitute, so I was born with dirty blood and grew up in brothels. Later, the eldest son of the Jiang family died of illness, and my father—the head of the Jiang family—could not have a son. That’s when he found me and asked me to recognize my ancestors and return to the family. To live in place of the eldest son.”

Jiang Qin smiled, but there was little warmth in his eyes: "Substituting one thing for another, this life of wealth and status was all stolen."

"There's nothing to regret about returning it now."

"Bullshit!" Zhiwei could no longer tolerate it. Her brows furrowed with anger, and she shoved Jiang Qin to the ground. "Who told you that your life was stolen? Your mother risked her life to give birth to you, and you became a strategist through your own abilities. You deserve all of this!"

Zhiwei squatted down, bringing Jiang Qin's head over her shoulder so he could look into her eyes: "Your life is yours, so you have to accept it completely! All that talk about substituting one thing for another, all that about being insignificant, is just you looking down on yourself! Even if you're really going to die tomorrow, you should try your best to live well tonight, instead of playing mournful tunes here!"

The cold, sharp edges of the jade flute pressed against my palm.

Jiang Qin stared at the woman before him, her eyes wide with fury, two unquenchable flames burning in her phoenix eyes.

He suddenly found himself speechless.

The man before him was of humble origins, had been a wanderer in countless places, and had brushed shoulders with countless swords and spears—he knew nothing of this.

However, he was most familiar with the survival instinct that filled Zhiwei's eyes.

Wasn't he also inspired by this enthusiasm, which led him to lend a helping hand countless times?

"Without you, I wouldn't be alive today." Zhiwei recalled Jiang Tan's kindness. "So Jiang Tan, I won't allow you to give up on yourself like this."

The wind on the grassland carried Zhiwei's words and struck Jiang Tan's heart, causing his deep-seated resentment and will to survive to slowly resurface.

“You’re right.” Jiang Qin stood up and brushed the grass clippings off his clothes. “We shouldn’t have just accepted it like that.”

"Let's think of another way." Jiang Qin helped Zhiwei up, who was supporting herself on the ground.

The two walked in the cold wind, from pitch black to bright. Just as the sun was about to rise, a servant brought hot tea. Zhiwei took a small sip and noticed tea stalks floating on top.

She couldn't help but frown.

"Does it taste strange?" Jiang Qin noticed the subtle change in Zhiwei's expression, and his attendant immediately stepped forward.

"Sir, there's still some Biluochun tea left. I thought it wasn't enough to brew a pot of tea, so I took the liberty of adding some green tea to mix it in."

"It was my fault for fooling the court lady's tongue." The attendant knelt down and bowed.

Zhiwei blinked: "Snow-capped Peak with Emerald Greenery, how many people have tasted it?"

Jiang Qin was stunned, and after thinking for a moment, he said, "It's probably not. Even the King of Siam, who presented this tea as tribute, said it was extremely rare and a new product that had only been produced in recent years. He himself had only tasted it once two years ago."

"So, there isn't anyone here who is truly familiar with the taste of 'Snow-Topped Emerald'?" Zhiwei asked again.

“In that case…” Zhiwei stroked the cup, “why don’t we…”

As if struck by a sudden thought, Jiang Qin looked at Zhiwei and exclaimed, "You mean!"

The two locked eyes, remaining silent in tacit agreement. Zhi smiled slightly and asked, "Want to bet?"

Jiang Qin took a deep breath, smiled back, and sighed, "This is truly a fatal blow."

——

With less than twelve hours remaining until the case was closed, Zhiwei boarded the carriage to return to the palace.

She clutched a paper packet containing only tea dregs in her hand, her face heavy.

The so-called "drawing the firewood from under the cauldron" was nothing more than a sleight of hand; strictly speaking, it was a complete substitution. Zhiwei had to personally replicate "Snow-capped Jade" within a single day, and for this, she had to return to the palace to gather all the necessary ingredients.

If this fails, it would be a crime of deceiving the emperor. She did not tell Zhu Mingyu about it.

Only Zhu Liji approached her and told her that the carriages, horses, and travel documents were all ready.

Zhu Liji stood beside the carriage, side by side with Jiang Tan. The coachman drove the "Black Lightning" slowly, turning it around.

Zhiwei lifted the carriage curtain and found herself staring directly into Zhu Liji's eyes.

She no longer asked Zhu Liji how he knew what she wanted, and Zhu Liji also remained silent, subtly mocking Zhiwei for her escapism and incompetence.

As the carriage began to move, Zhiwei patted her chest with one hand and made a fist with the other, pointing it at Zhu Liji's heart.

Zhu Liji stared at Zhiwei's fist and raised his eyebrows.

At this moment, the two are of one mind and need no further words.

——

Inside the imperial kitchen, all the servants dispersed.

The only tea dregs were carefully spread out on the snow-white Xuan paper.

Zhiwei pressed the tip of his nose almost against the broken leaves, repeatedly sniffing and identifying them.

Shao Zhao then bent over his desk and read the words, summarizing the few words about Snow Peak Embracing Greenery on the tribute list from the Siamese and Ying delegation.

"The dry tea is green with white mixed in, the tea soup is clear as gold, the aroma is refreshing and contains the charm of orchid, with a hint of the cold pine of high mountains."

Shao Yang – Transcribed them one by one.

"Similar in shape, color, and aroma... none of these can be missing." Zhiwei tapped her fingertips on the table, her eyes burning as she scanned the materials on the table.

There was top-quality pre-Qingming Longjing tea, several packets of fried rice, a jar of freshly pickled osmanthus flowers, and a dish of freshly dried gardenia petals.

On the table, there were a dozen cups of tea, some warm and some cold. At first, they were served in teacups, then in bowls, and later in basins.

Zhiwei's composure began to crumble little by little.

"Longjing tea is the core ingredient, and fried rice is used to extract its aroma..."

After biting off several pieces of her fingernails, Zhiwei's gaze fell on the jar of candied osmanthus again: "Osmanthus flowers coated in honey are meant to be sweet and fragrant, there shouldn't be any problem with that."

The fire roared in the stove, and the clay pot was set up.

Tried again and again, producing pot after pot of wasted tea.

There are less than six hours left before the case is closed.

It was past noon, and he had only eaten some dry rations in the carriage. Even his lips were chapped. As soon as he got back, he went straight to the imperial kitchen. Despite scratching his head until he was numb, he couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong.

"Master, would you like some water?" Afu squeezed through the crack in the door and spoke cautiously.

Zhiwei drank it all in one gulp, but he drank it too fast and choked on it. He coughed a few times and fell straight into the iron pot with saliva, ruining a whole pot of fresh tea.

"Damn it!" Zhiwei threw down the spatula and roared, her chest heaving.

It's over, it's all over.

The journey back will take two or three hours, but the progress is really worrying. At first, it was just that the color of the finished tea was a bit off, then it turned into the wok being overcooked, and then she couldn't even hold the spatula properly.

That won't work at all.

Zhiwei covered her face with her hand, sinking into despair.

The imperial kitchen fell into a deathly silence.

Afu silently walked to the side, picked up the spatula from the ground, and rinsed it clean with water.

“Master,” Afu said, “you still have me.”

Afu tidied up the discarded tea on the table, took the tea recipe from Shao Yang, but couldn't read the words on it, so he asked Shao Yang to read it to him.

Shao Yang nodded.

"Gardenia juice dyes the soup golden yellow..." Shao Yang muttered, pausing between each sentence, while A Fu held the small stone mortar and pestle, grinding vigorously.

Zhiwei held his breath and listened intently to Afu's movements.

A small pinch of Longjing tea tips is thrown into the boiling hot clay pot, and Afu flips the pot with the ease of a butterfly.

The tea leaves curl up when heated, gradually turning a vibrant green.

A handful of snow-white glutinous rice was sprinkled into another red-hot iron pot. In an instant, it crackled and popped, and a rich aroma of caramelized rice mingled with the fragrance of the rice.

Zhiwei gradually calmed down.

Outside the window, eyes looked toward the stove, then all gathered around Zhiwei's tearful face.