Peach Blossom

The two men walked straight out of the main gate, leaving the two guards standing there dumbfounded, completely bewildered by their attire and behavior.

A security guard raised his hand to stop the two: "What are you doing here?"

He couldn't be bothered to waste words with the gatekeeper; his furrowed brows and sharp eyes made him look menacing. He simply shoved the token in the gatekeeper's face, and the gatekeeper, seeing the words on the token, smiled obsequiously and made way.

He made a respectful gesture of deference and said, "Farewell, Major General Peng."

The two guards were also curious about what had happened inside. They looked at each other for a while and then returned to their posts.

Just then, someone came to meet Peng Feizhe outside. The driver, seeing his master carrying a woman in his arms, thought of helping. Peng Feizhe shook his head, indicating that it wasn't necessary.

He carried Zhi Qiu directly into the car. After putting her down, he looked at the wound on her face. A wound more than ten centimeters long was still bleeding. He quickly took out a white handkerchief from his clothes, removed her hand from her face, and put the handkerchief on her face.

His dark eyes were filled with heartache as he said gently, "Take the handkerchief carefully."

Her lips turned down, and her almond-shaped eyes were brimming with tears; she looked so aggrieved.

"Siz, get the carriage back to the hospital!" he called to the driver after he finished.

Upon receiving the order, young Sidson picked up his whip and lashed his horse.

The car slowly started moving.

He sat to one side, arms crossed, watching her with a smile. "Should I call you stupid or dumb? Trying to avoid an argument by faking fainting, and you almost fell over."

It was as if they were mocking her poor acting skills.

She composed herself, calmly looking at him while covering her wound with one hand. "No matter what the general says, he's still scolding me. After all, she's my master, so of course I have to help her."

He frowned slightly, seemingly very dissatisfied with her answer. "She treated you like this, and you still treat her like your master?"

Her gaze fell, and she sighed helplessly, "There's nothing I can do. I was bought. My life and death are decided by her, not by myself."

He fell silent, and the car became quiet. The sun was setting, and night replaced the twilight.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Zhi Qiu was forcibly pulled into the main room by him, who said he would apply medicine for her.

The 50-square-meter room was lit by only one candle. The faint light did not illuminate the entire room, but only the wound on her face. She sat nervously on the edge of the bed. He placed the candle on the table beside the bed. The candlelight was small, but it was enough to illuminate the two of them clearly.

She was too embarrassed to speak up: "General, I can do it myself, this little injury is nothing to worry about..."

"Be quiet."

Upon hearing him speak, she immediately shut her mouth.

He rummaged through the drawers and found a few pieces of kapok and a bottle of medicine. He uncorked the bottle and gently poured out some of the powdered medicine.

She stared at the cotton in his hand. "General, what kind of medicine is this?"

"Healing medicine, take your hands away." He leaned down slightly, wanting to help her apply the medicine.

“???” She looked up at him.

Is he going to apply the medicine himself?

Seeing that she didn't move, he took the cotton wool in one hand and reached for her hand covering the handkerchief with the other. He grabbed her right wrist and separated her hand from the handkerchief.

He thought the handkerchief would fall off without the support of his hands. But to his surprise, the handkerchief stuck directly to his face. He frowned slightly, finding it a bit troublesome.

He said gently, "Bear with it, it might hurt a little."

"Ah...okay..." She looked at the tall man in front of her, feeling rather lost.

He grabbed a corner of the handkerchief and slowly and gently separated it from his cheek. Zhi Qiu felt the wound exposed to the air, feeling a cool sensation mixed with a stinging pain.

He then pinched her face with one hand, intently examining her injuries, his expression serious yet tinged with heartache. With his other hand, he gently applied a cotton ball to the wound.

She hissed in pain, gasped, and looked at him.

"General... Ouch! That hurts! I'll do it myself!"

She started fidgeting, and he patiently reassured her, "Don't move, it'll be over soon."

"..." She had no choice but to obey and close her eyes tightly to endure the pain.

The medicine was finally applied, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Peng Feizhe then took out the strips of cloth to bandage her up.

"General, you're going to so much trouble..." Seeing Peng Feizhe's concern for her, she had a bad feeling and her lips twitched.

He said calmly, "I'm partly responsible for your injury too, that's only fair."

Peng Feizhe took a strip of cloth and began to bandage her hair, tidying up her stray hairs.

She could feel his skillful, entwining technique, and looked dejected as she said, "General... do you think I look ugly right now?"

He was busy bandaging his wound, wondering why she said that: "Why do you say that?"

She paused, her eyes lowered, "I've heard... that you men all like beautiful women, and I'm not even that good-looking... and now I've been whipped in the face..."

“Nonsense!” he retorted, dismissing her anxiety. “I’m different from them. You’ve only been whipped; it’s not like you have a terminal illness. Why are you so worried?”

"But... what if the recovery isn't good? What girl wouldn't be heartbroken to have a wound the size of a centipede on her face?" She looked sadly into his eyes, as if she was about to cry, but she desperately held back.

He could see through her almond-shaped eyes that she really cared about her appearance; indeed, such a thing was a huge blow to a young woman.

He sighed and comforted her, "Don't worry too much. I'll have someone get you some scar-reducing ointment. The injury will heal, don't worry."

These words seemed to have touched a nerve with her, and she was somewhat annoyed by what he said: "You don't have someone you like, so of course you don't care. I do have someone I like, so of course I care!"

I saw her lowered eyes, hiding her sadness, and tears welling up in her eyes.

He knew he might have said something he shouldn't have, but he couldn't bear to see her so upset, so after thinking for a while, he gently comforted her.

He had assumed that the "person she liked" was him, and his heart was broken; he felt somewhat guilty.

Yesterday...did I hurt her that badly?

He thought he could change the subject, and then said with a gentle smile, "Have you heard of the drama 'Peach Blossom Fate'? There's a line in it that I really like."

Her gaze fell on his face.

He continued, "It says that if you like someone and don't care about their appearance, that's called liking the soul. The soul communicates through the eyes and with the heart as the guide. When you meet the right person, your souls will intertwine deeply, and only then can a couple grow old together."

He suddenly cupped her face in his hands, trying to avoid her wound, his deep black eyes looking directly into hers. Those black eyes were filled with tenderness and burning passion, and his fingers gently brushed against her left cheek, the movement very light and tender.

The distance between the two was somewhat ambiguous, and Zhi Qiu felt uncomfortable.

“They call this love, but love is different from liking. It’s a spiritual love, different from the love given by parents in the tribe; it’s the love between lovers. I don’t know how to describe it; it’s subtle and beautiful.”

She was stunned, not knowing what he meant, but she could tell from his words that he was expressing his feelings.

"Your eyes are beautiful, so please don't worry about your appearance, okay?"

"?" Her mind was in complete confusion.

Seeing that he didn't continue, she guessed he had finished speaking, and loosened his grip on her. She could see the affection on his face; it was obvious, impossible to hide. Clear yet restrained, he wanted to conceal it but couldn't.

Even if the body or mouth denies that feeling, the eyes don't lie; they are the most expressive organ of the human body.

Not wanting to spoil the mood, she shook her head slightly. A smile appeared on her dejected face, tinged with regret, as she said, "Yes, that's a beautiful line. It's just a pity I haven't seen it. I wonder if the General would have some free time to take me to see it?"

She had no idea such a drama existed; it seemed she had been isolated from the world for far too long.

I shouldn't have stayed indoors for so long. I've read countless plays and plays, but I've never heard of the play "Peach Blossom Romance"! What a pity.

Seeing that she was in a better mood, his guilt lessened.

"It's late, are you hungry?"

She looked up at him blankly, appearing somewhat dazed in the orange candlelight, as if the candlelight had peeled away her dark skin.

He asked again, "Are you hungry?"

She just shook her head blankly, not saying a word, her eyes showing no complex emotions.

Seeing this dazed side of her made him even happier, and he wanted to confirm again, "Are you really not hungry?"

"General, I can't bite anything on my right side."

"?" He chuckled after hearing that. "Did I knock your teeth out?"

She looked at me with an innocent, puppy-dog expression: "General, I'm used to eating on my right side. If I move my right side now, it will aggravate my wound."

He crossed his arms, tilted his head slightly, and asked, "Is it difficult to switch sides?"

She nodded. "Difficult! There are termites over there."

He was speechless. "I'll have someone prepare some porridge for you. It's not good for your stomach if you don't eat."

The sky had completely darkened, and several steaming dishes appeared on the table, along with a bowl of plain porridge in front of her.

The room was dimly lit. After he finished bandaging the wound, he intended to have someone light it up, but Zhi Qiu stopped him.

They even said that lighting just one candle is enough, otherwise the food won't taste as good.

He didn't know when she laughed or not, but he did laugh. He indulged her, so he left only one candle lit and placed it in the middle of the dining table.

The dining table isn't very big; he usually eats alone, but now that there are two of them, the table seems a bit small.

The interplay of golden and orange light created a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere, making everyone look even more beautiful. What was simply a meal for two was elevated to a whole new level by the presence of a candle.

She glanced at Peng Feizhe sitting opposite her; his food was much better than hers, while she only had a bowl of porridge. She wondered a little about her own idea—why light only one candle for no reason?

My mother calls this a candlelight dinner, and it seems to make people like their partner more. But why do the two of them seem even more... awkward?

The flickering candlelight and the warm, hazy glow made her seem even more alluring in his eyes.

Peng Feizhe inexplicably liked this feeling, and the food in his bowl tasted delicious.

"General, you clearly have so much money, why do you live in such a small place?" she asked, voicing her doubts.

"It's too quiet. A big house would be too cold and lonely, I don't like that."

She nodded in understanding, rested her chin on her left hand, took another sip of porridge, and continued to ask curiously, "Then why did you come here to attack the stronghold? Such a trivial matter should be handled by local officials. What are you, such an important person, doing here?"

He put down his chopsticks, and the two looked at each other. "I'm quite leisurely in the court, and I just wanted to learn about the local situation, so I volunteered to come."

"..." She had thought he must be in a lot of trouble to come, but it turned out he was just relaxing.

"That……"

She asked, he answered. She was curious, he explained.

The two chatted happily, and the food on the table was almost finished. As the candles burned out, she lit another one.

Before we knew it, we were chatting late into the night. She got a little sleepy and said, "I need to rest now," ending the conversation.

Peng Feizhe glanced at the sky outside the window; the night was indeed deep, but he was still somewhat reluctant to end it. Tonight was good; he wanted to know more about her, and she listened to his troubles in court.