Chapter 2.002 General Meng, do you also like me, your concubine? ...
The sound of a maid's flustered apology came from behind him. Meng Qingshan's ears rang, and his blood rushed to his head. His black iron armor emitted a deep tremor.
The Prince of Dingxi noticed his unusual behavior out of the corner of his eye and his face immediately darkened. He beckoned to those below to come forward. Qingli loathed being summoned to the palace; her memories of being there were never good. She had no interest in seeing which of the Prince of Dingxi's friends it was; they were always the same people who indulged in wine, women, and money.
She wore a gentle smile, her watery eyes gazing affectionately at the Prince of Dingxi. As soon as she stood still and was about to bend down, he reached out and forcefully wrapped his arm around her waist. The Prince of Dingxi's anger lessened slightly when he saw her obediently nestled in his arms. She was no ordinary concubine, given away at will. From the first moment he saw her, he knew she belonged only to him.
The Prince of Dingxi met the gaze that had been following him like a shadow. "General Meng, do you also like my concubine?"
Upon hearing the surname, Qingli's fingers twitched, and she subconsciously looked up. Through the fluttering long sleeves, her gaze fell upon those intimidating eyes, slightly brownish, staring straight at her as if to skin her alive and force her to reveal her true intentions. He had lost some of his reckless air and gained more of the composure of a mature man, though he seemed taller and stronger. She had often thought of him as a black bear, and it seemed she was right.
But what does it matter? What does he have to do with her? Is he going to save her from her predicament, or is he looking down on her for her self-degradation? She lowered her head, revealing her delicate, porcelain-like neck, forgetting that she was now entirely his fault.
Meng Qingshan's eyes reddened at the sight of that white thorn. Staring at it directly, he didn't answer but asked instead, "If you like it, what should Your Highness do?"
Qingli felt a surge of nervousness. What did he mean by asking that? Was he turning back from the wrong path or just pretending to be a saint? She stretched out her jade-like fingers and tugged at the Prince of Dingxi's waist belt. The black jade on it caused a dull ache. She looked at the Prince of Dingxi with complete dependence, playfully scolding him.
The Prince of Dingxi softened immediately, realizing he shouldn't have used her as a weapon. He stroked the soft flesh at his waist and said, "It's only right to grant her wish, but I can't bear to part with her."
Meng Qingshan seemed disappointed. He chuckled, raised his cup, and drank it all in one gulp, one cup after another, as if releasing a deep-seated ailment. Even Qingli glanced over when she wasn't looking, and couldn't help but frown, thinking that he was still the same reckless man as always.
"hiss..."
Qingli's soft skin couldn't withstand the pressure, and her waist suddenly tightened with a piercing pain. When she looked up, she saw that the Prince of Dingxi was looking down with displeasure. Qingli thought to herself that she had been staring at him in a daze, so she quickly softened her expression and reached out to pinch the Prince of Dingxi's waist. The Prince of Dingxi had practiced martial arts for many years, and his waist was taut and strong, but it was the other way around that his fingers ached from the effort. He complained in a soft voice, "It's all your fault."
Qingli knew the Prince of Dingxi's temper. If you just timidly apologized, it would be pointless. You had to act like a little wildcat with your claws outstretched, like scratching an itch, to win his favor. Sure enough, when he changed his expression, he took her hand in his big hand. After all, it was in front of everyone. He put it under the table and gently rubbed it. Qingli pretended to be angry and slapped it twice. She only stopped when her expression turned happy.
The Prince of Dingxi tapped the tip of her nose, saying, "You're too delicate; you can't be scolded."
"You seemed lost in thought just now."
Qingli gestured to the Prince of Dingxi with her eyes and whispered in his ear, "He's acting really strange. He doesn't say a word and just keeps drinking in silence. Has he never drunk alcohol before?"
The fragrant scent wafting into his ears stirred up a seductive thought in the Prince of Dingxi. He used his inner strength to calm his turbulent emotions, then glanced at the mischievous little vixen. Her pink lips were delicate and alluring, and she spoke in childish words. Thinking of the delicate girl who spent her days in the backyard worrying about rouge and powder, it was no wonder he was curious about the rough general. He patiently explained, "Don't underestimate him. He single-handedly went deep behind enemy lines, killed the King of Hugu, and returned after being chased by a thousand cavalrymen for two days with a spear to his head. He is no ordinary person."
The Prince of Dingxi was a man of deep thoughts. If you accidentally offended him, you wouldn't even know how you died. Qingli sat up straight only when she saw that he didn't care. She pulled her dress to her side so that it didn't touch the brocade robe next to her. They were clearly separated. She lowered her head and remained quiet. She had no interest in looking around anymore. No one was related to her. She silently and listlessly passed the time.
Meng Qingshan stared at the two chatting and laughing, their hands clasped together in a struggle. A sharp, cold light shone in his deep eyes. The fire that had been suppressed in his heart suddenly turned into a raging fire, almost swallowing his reason. Like a beast that had been lying dormant for a while, he let out a low growl as he gathered the power to tear everything in front of him apart.
His arrival was meant to overturn everything. Before he came, time and power were on his side; after he arrived, he brought with him an unstoppable and sharp edge.
Si Ding stood up, slightly staggering. The maid behind him hurriedly stepped forward to help him. He was tall and slender, with a heavy and imposing figure. The maid was pulled along and her steps became flustered. He waved her away, saying, "Your Highness, I cannot hold my liquor. I will take my leave now."
The Prince of Dingxi waved his hand, and the tall gate opened wide, letting in a gust of cold wind. Qingli shrank back as she watched the sturdy figure walk into the vast expanse, leaving winding footprints in the snow.
Night fell, the heavy snow had stopped, and lanterns cast orange halos on the snow, clusters of them carrying a warm hue. The moonlight was bright, and the snow reflected the white light, making the path underfoot crystal clear. Qingli walked wearily along the path. Taoyuan Pavilion was especially far from the front courtyard, and the servants in the back courtyard were very observant. When the prince summoned them, they would come to fetch them in a palanquin, but if the prince did not go the same way, they would have to walk back.
It's nothing more than trying to please the princess.
Qingli lowered Jiang Zhao's hand and pulled her to her side, saying, "You can see clearly now, you don't need to hold it up like that, it's tiring."
A lantern lay to one side, illuminating the slightly parted hem of her skirt, and a somewhat dejected voice could be heard saying, "I need to take a bath when I get back."
"Yes," Jiang Zhao replied crisply. Knowing that her mistress was clean and didn't want to be bothered by the smell of alcohol, she coaxed, "Jiang Yue probably already has it ready."
As she walked, a series of boisterous laughs came from no fewer than ten people. Qingli stopped and turned around to look. The front yard was brightly lit, which must be his residence.
The wind and snow blurred her vision, clinging to Qingli's eyelashes and merging with the falling moisture into a single drop. She suppressed the thoughts that had just arisen in her mind; she wasn't in dire straits yet, and she couldn't be so easily discouraged. She was better off now than she was two years ago, and two years ago was better than three years ago. Besides, she knew her true identity and was no longer adrift in the world. As long as she could get rid of her current identity, everything would take a turn for the better. Moreover, her grandfather would come to save her. Thinking of this, she regained her spirits.
In the east wing of the front yard, two tables were placed side by side, with naan bread on them and large bowls filled with fine tea, as fragrant as wine. The loser of a game of rock-paper-scissors drank a large bowl of tea, and the atmosphere was so noisy that it almost broke the roof.
Qi Zhaoxin handed Meng Qingshan a piece of naan bread. This was their usual dry food, made from local barley flour and baked without oil or water. It had to be eaten in small bites, otherwise it was easy to choke, but it was extremely filling. This was the first time Qi Zhaoxin had seen him look so dejected, and he asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"
Meng Qingshan took the food and ate it in small bites. After a while, he spoke, "It's alright. Everything will proceed according to plan. Let the brothers have their fun and go to sleep."
Meng Qingshan was unrestrained and flamboyant, and even in the face of fierce and brutal battles, he remained domineering and unyielding. At this moment, his eyebrows were drooping and his eyes were blank, which did not mean he was unaffected. However, there were things he did not want to talk about that no one could get out of him. For example, why he was so reckless as to try to earn military merit. At that time, across the campfire, the rising sparks flashed in his eyes, and he only said two words, "I want to ask her."
Who to ask, what to ask? The brothers asked again, looking at the expressions of sorrow and regret, they suddenly felt a tightness in their throats, inwardly cursing themselves for being so sentimental as grown men.
The next day, Meng Qingshan was awakened by the sound of opera in the backyard. In the midst of war, it was normal to be constantly vigilant, so he was a light sleeper. He woke up his brothers, and breakfast had already been served. The burly men finished it in no time, leaving the servants speechless. The group left the Dingxi Prince's Mansion through the west gate. Their mission was to apprehend a spy who had infiltrated Yanyun City. During the pursuit, they had killed the city gate officer, a fact witnessed by both sides. The Dingxi Prince's Mansion had been robbed of its jewels, and the Dingxi Prince, in his anger, allowed Meng Qingshan to enter.
The opera had already begun on the stage in the backyard. Having many concubines had its advantages, as some of them were skilled in opera. Once dressed up, the performance started as soon as the gongs and drums sounded. The princess sat in the middle, wearing an elaborate brocade dress embroidered with crimson and gold and silver threads, which made her look noble and elegant. Her hair was piled high and adorned with gold and jade hairpins. Her face was round like a silver plate, which was originally a kind face, but her eyes were long and narrow, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes made her look indifferent and mean when she stared at people.
The Prince of Dingxi was not usually one to indulge in sexual activity, spending only ten days a month in the backyard. However, he spent two of those ten days in Qingli's courtyard, which was rather conspicuous. Jealousy among women was common, and although the Princess Consort tacitly approved and covered it up, Qingli had suffered quite a bit. At this moment, her cloak was stripped off by several concubines, and Jiang Zhao and Jiang Yue were pushed outside by maids and servants. She stood in the empty courtyard wearing only a single dress, and the cold wind made her even more stiff.
Qingli's skin was delicate and white, appearing even more translucent in the cold. The tip of her nose was slightly red, like a blush of rouge. Princess Jiang, born into a high-ranking family in the capital, leisurely watched the lively performance on the stage while holding a hand warmer. Listening to the ridicule and mockery from behind, the corners of her mouth slightly turned up. Her hands gently stroked her hair, but suddenly touched her face, and her fingers froze. She was only in her thirties, and her appearance was aging. Why was she being treated so coldly? She placed her hands on her knees, looking at her wrinkled skin, and abruptly looked away. Thinking that even the most delicate flower would eventually fall, her anger subsided.
Jiang Zhao watched as those people grabbed and twisted his wife, gritted his teeth, and turned to head towards the front yard.
When Meng Qingshan and his group returned to the manor, they were empty-handed. From afar, they saw a clever maid talking to Rongde. Rongde looked calm and collected, his eyes lingering on the maid, clearly harboring ill intentions.
Rongde sighed inwardly, thinking how worthy she was of being the mistress's maid. Not only was her mistress as beautiful as a fairy, but even her maids were all stunningly beautiful. At this moment, he pleaded fearfully, "Head Steward, please inform the Prince quickly. If this continues, the mistress will fall ill."
Rongde looked at the slender, pale fingers gripping his sleeve, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He lightly clapped his hands, intending to just touch them briefly and then pull away, but the fingers were so smooth and delicate that he couldn't let go. He leaned closer, "Your Highness..."
Meng Qingshan initially intended to ignore it, but upon closer inspection, she recognized the maid and remembered that it was her maid. She had just heard the maid say that she was ill, and she paused, asking, "Where is the Prince?"
The powerful voice startled Rongde, who trembled and looked at Meng Qingshan, whose dark face clearly showed his displeasure. Rongde's legs went weak, and he dared not delay for a moment, saying, "Your Highness will not return until Shenzheng."
There was still an hour left. Jiang Zhao was so anxious that he stamped his feet. Knowing that he couldn't be counted on, he turned around and ran back, bumping into people without even looking.
Meng Qingshan took a deep look, then led the group back to their room.
Qingli's legs had long since lost all feeling, and she stood there woodenly, her body trembling beneath her thin dress. She clenched her teeth tightly to keep from fainting when suddenly a noisy commotion, seemingly both near and far, came from nearby.
The drums and gongs on the stage stopped, and the shouts of "Thief! Thief!" came out.
Princess Jiang looked at the scurrying crowd and roared, "What's the panic!"
The concubines dared not speak their anger, but they remembered that the last time the thieves came, they swept away all the precious jewelry in the courtyard. It was not easy for them to collect the broken rings, so how could they not be anxious?
Jiang looked at their petty and uncouth manner, and despised their lack of ambition. How could such people possibly be refined and elegant enough to catch the prince's eye? Hearing the increasingly noisy commotion, she angrily flung her sleeves and shouted, "Everyone back to your own courtyards!"
Jiang Zhao and Jiang Yue ran against the flow to Qing Li's side. One of them held her tightly and warmed her hands with his, while the other went to find a cloak, but it was covered in mud and water and could not be worn. The two maids had tears in their eyes. The three of them clung to each other and walked slowly, step by step.
As soon as Qingli left, her feet ached as if pricked by needles. She bit her lip with her pearly white teeth, squeezing out drops of bright red blood. As if sensing something, she turned around and looked at the corner.
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