Southward

The day Xuanji was released was a late afternoon in early spring.

The heavy iron door of the Jingzhao Prefecture prison slammed shut behind her, completely shutting out the cold and dampness of the past three months. The sudden burst of sunlight blinded her, and she instinctively raised her arm to shield her eyes.

But that light was warm.

She took a deep, greedy breath, the air filling her lungs with a slight stinging sensation, reminding her that she was still alive, that she was free.

Then, she saw them.

At the bottom of the steps, a simple, unadorned carriage with a blue canopy sat quietly, yet it instantly brought tears to her eyes. Several people stood beside the carriage; the one in the lead, dressed in a familiar gray-blue casual robe, was slender and quietly watching her.

Yes, sir.

Three months in prison, nearly a year of separation by a thousand miles. It seemed as if a long chasm had been drawn between them. Seeing each other again now, it felt like a lifetime had passed.

He seemed to have lost some weight, and there was an inescapable weariness and travel-worn look between his brows, but his eyes were churning with complex emotions she had never seen before.

Behind him stood Wen Jue, tall and straight as a pine tree. He nodded slightly to her, his eyes seeming to say, "Junior sister, it's alright now."

Wen Xiang'er could no longer hold back. She rushed forward and hugged her tightly, her eyes red and sobbing uncontrollably: "Sister Xuanji... Waaah... You've suffered so much..."

Supported by Xiang'er, she slowly walked to Wen Tingyun. She wanted to speak, but her throat seemed to be blocked by something, and she could only call out softly: "Sir."

Wen Tingyun stepped forward and, with remarkable ease, took off his worn-out dark cloak and gently draped it over her shoulders.

The cloak still carried the warmth of his body and that familiar scent of books. A huge wave of sorrow surged into her nostrils, and everything before her eyes blurred and swayed. She bit her lower lip hard to keep the sob from escaping her throat, but her shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

He didn't pat her back to comfort her like an ordinary elder would, but simply reached out and firmly supported her arm with a gentle yet firm touch. "Let's go home."

"Going home"... these two words, like the softest feathers, gently brushed against her wounded heart. Her "Wangji Thatched Cottage" was a temporary place to stay, the "Yunqi Courtyard" of Xianyi Temple was a place of expediency, and the "Qiwu Pavilion" of the Li Mansion was a golden cage... only the Wen Mansion was worthy of the word "home".

Wen Jue silently stepped forward and lifted the carriage curtain.

Wen Xiang'er carefully helped her into the carriage. The carriage slowly started moving, its wheels rolling steadily over the stone road.

Xuanji leaned against the car wall and closed his eyes.

In a daze, she seemed to return to many years ago, to that afternoon when her teacher first brought her into the Wen family mansion. The same unease, the same uncertainty about the future, yet also the same faint, lingering hope for "home." Time, it seemed, completed a long and painful cycle at that moment.

Back at the Wen residence, Qingxing was already waiting in the courtyard. Upon seeing Xuanji, the little maid burst into tears, but forced back her tears and stepped forward to help her up: "Madam, the hot water is ready."

In the rising steam, Xuanji closed her eyes, letting Qingxing gently wash her. The warm water washed away the chill of the prison, and also washed away the humiliation and fear of the past three months. Qingxing carefully wrung out her long hair and changed her into clean, plain clothes.

After washing up, I saw myself in the mirror. Although I was still pale, I finally looked somewhat human.

A few days later, Xuanji regained some of his composure.

That evening, Wen Tingyun carried a cup of ginseng tea, gently knocked on the door, and entered. He placed the tea beside her, sat down on a chair by the window, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a low and calm voice: "Youwei."

He said, "Chang'an is a place of trouble and danger; it is not suitable for me to stay any longer." His tone was calm, yet every word was clear. "I wish to go to Lingnan to live in seclusion. The climate there is mild and humid, far from the turmoil, where I may find peace. Would you... be willing to come with me?"

He didn't ask "What do you think?" or say "I'll take you with me," but instead asked, "Would you like to come with me?" This was an equal inquiry, placing the right to choose entirely in her hands.

Xuanji paused slightly. Lingnan, a place thousands of miles away, a land shrouded in miasma. Leaving Chang'an meant relinquishing everything from the past, whether glory or pain. She looked out the window; the courtyard was silent in the twilight. Her master's wife was gone, Xiang'er was married, and there were indeed few ties left in this place.

The break with Li Yi, the shadow of prison, the controversies at Xianyi Temple, the rumors in Chang'an... staying behind would only mean continuing to struggle in the mire.

She withdrew her gaze and landed on Wen Tingyun's lean yet resolute face. This man, whom she had respected for many years, and whom she had also resented, and perhaps whose deeper feelings had been suppressed deep within her heart, was now choosing a path that was unconventional yet ultimately liberating for her and for herself.

Without hesitation or wavering, she met his gaze, just as she had when they first met at fourteen, her voice soft yet exceptionally clear:

"good."

That night, Wen Xiang'er came to Xuanji's courtyard.

“Sister,” she said softly, taking Xuanji’s slightly cool hands in her hands, “I am truly happy with your and Father’s decision.” She paused, her eyes softening, “Actually, before Mother passed away, besides giving Father some instructions, she also spoke to me privately about…you.”

Xuanji's heart tightened, and he looked at Xiang'er, wondering what his master's wife would say.

“Mother said that she and Father lived a life of perfect harmony and contentment. But she knew better than anyone that Father’s solitary and lonely nature was something that ordinary people could hardly understand or comfort.” Xiang’er’s voice was particularly clear in the quiet night. “She said that Father regarded you as a kindred spirit in poetry and literature, a kindred spirit in spirit. This understanding is rare in the world.”

She gripped Xuanji's hand tightly, her tone growing more sincere: "Mother said that after she passed away, what she longed for most was not how Father would uphold his chastity and establish his reputation, but that he could truly be happy and not be trapped in loneliness for the rest of his life. And the only person she could think of who could both understand him and be willing to treat him sincerely was you, sister."

Xuanji was greatly shocked. His lips moved slightly, but he could not utter a word.

“My mother entrusted me with this,” Xiang’er continued, her eyes clear as water, “that if one day you two can cast aside worldly constraints and rely on each other, I will be delighted to see it happen, and I also want you to tell me…”

She took a deep breath and repeated her mother's last words, word by word, "She said, 'Tell Youwei not to feel that you have let me down. Only if I can see Changqing and Youwei supporting each other and warming each other's hearts for the rest of their lives can I truly rest in peace in the afterlife.'"

Tears silently filled Xuanji's eyes. His master's wife's gentle and wise face seemed to be right before him. Her tolerance and love, like moonlight, washed away the last trace of unease and burden in Xuanji's heart caused by this emotion.

Xiang'er raised her hand and gently wiped away Xuanji's tears, but she couldn't help but shed tears herself. With a sob in her voice, she smiled and said, "So, sister, you and father go to Lingnan and live a good life. Brother and I will take care of everything in Chang'an. You two... must cherish each other. Mother will be pleased to see you from heaven."

Xuanji gently embraced Xiang'er, and the two women embraced under the moon, their tears mingling, but no longer filled with sorrow, but with relief and blessings.