Qin Qianluo loved sweet cheese, so she had a patch of avocado trees planted in the west courtyard of the mansion, with the trunks wrapped in straw ropes to prevent frost damage.
They even specially invited a cheese maker from the Western Regions to make three different sweet cheese dishes every day according to Qin Qianluo's taste.
In the morning, it smells of honey, paired with freshly steamed lotus flower pastries; in the afternoon, it smells of almonds, enjoyed with her favorite books; and in the evening, it smells of osmanthus, kept warm in a tin pot, so as not to let it get cold and upset her stomach.
Lian Qinqian casually mentioned, "I want to see a map of the southern border. I heard it has a glowing river on it that can light up the road at night."
It was just a casual remark, but three days later a merchant from the Western Regions brought a rare map to his door, mounted on silk and with the corners wrapped in brocade.
It is said that Prime Minister Su specially commissioned someone to travel for three months along the trade route to obtain it from the chieftain of the southern border. He even circled the location of the "Radiant River" on the map and wrote a small annotation.
Once, I rode my "Ta Xue" past the Su Mansion. The vermilion gate was tightly closed, and the bronze beasts on the door knockers gleamed coldly.
The palace lanterns hanging above the door are embroidered with the three characters "Right Prime Minister's Residence," in Qin Qianluo's handwriting.
Through the door, one could hear Qin Qianluo's laughter coming from inside, clear and crisp like a copper bell from the eaves, making one's heart tremble.
That laughter had a softness I'd never heard before, like sweet cheese soaked in honey.
Then came Su Jinyun's gentle voice, softer than a spring breeze: "Do you like this jujube paste cake?"
I specially asked the kitchen to add extra honey today, in case you thought it was too bland; you said last time that Fu Kee's had too little sugar.
A moment later, Qin Qianluo replied with a smile, "Sister Su, you've gone to so much trouble. It's even better than Fu Ji's."
At that moment, my hand gripping the reins tightened and loosened repeatedly, my knuckles turning white.
Even "Treading on Snow" sensed my force, snorted, and scratched at the bluestone with its hooves, kicking up a few specks of dust.
I even saw Su Jinyun draw her eyebrows.
That day in the Imperial Garden, I watched from afar as Su Jinyun stood under the covered walkway, holding a tube of eyebrow pencil, carefully drawing eyebrows for Qin Qianluo.
The movements were so gentle, as if afraid of breaking the porcelain.
Qin Qianlu tilted her head back, her eyes curving into crescents, holding a piece of jujube paste cake in her hand, with a few crumbs of cake stuck to the corner of her mouth.
When Su Jinyun wiped away the crumbs, her fingertips touched the corner of her lips. She didn't flinch; instead, she smiled even more sweetly.
The scene was like a meticulous painting, so delicate it was almost blinding. My fingernails dug into the wood as I gripped the gun barrel.
That's enough, that's enough.
He raised his hand and pressed the military tally back into the brocade box, the lock clicking shut.
It's like locking away all those hidden thoughts, unspoken hopes, and secretly warmed joys, leaving no gaps.
The pomegranate blossoms outside the window are falling to the ground, their red petals scattered on the floor. A gust of wind blows, and the petals swirl and drift onto the table, stained with the gilded insignia of the military tally, much like the blood-stained cloak I wore that day, the one she had thought of in her heart.
The blood of the North is hot; it falls on the silver armor, congeals and melts, finally becoming a light brown mark, like an indelible mark on my heart.
I picked up a petal and held it between my fingertips. The soft touch of the petal brushed against the calluses on my palm, and I sighed softly.
As my fingertips traced the veins of the petals, it was as if I were grinding away at fragments of the past: the sauce at the Qionglin Banquet, the murmurs during the morning court session, the joy of reciting poetry, the longing for sweet cheese...
In the end, they all became the laughter in the Su family mansion, the warm sweet cheese, and the snail-shell eyebrow pencils used for drawing eyebrows.
If she is doing well, and smiles like she did when she ate braised pork with dried plums at the Qionglin Banquet that day, with light in her eyes and sweetness in her eyebrows, then that's fine.
My "Zhenxi" military tally can protect Tianxuan's territory, but not her heart. So let it protect her peace.
The tea on the table has gone completely cold, just like my unspoken feelings have finally cooled.
I am Mu Yunxi, the youngest General of the Western Garrison in the Tianxuan Kingdom.
The bronze bell on the shoulder armor had been jingling for seven years. Its clapper had long been tempered by the snow and frost of the North, and it rang clearly and brightly with the slightest movement.
It was just like the day my parents died in battle years ago, the wind swirling with snowflakes at Yanmen Pass, the sound of it whistling past the tip of my mother's horse spear, chilling to the bone, yet deafeningly bright.
When I was ten years old, around the time of Grain Rain, the purple peonies in the Imperial Garden were in full bloom. A few double petals fell onto my clothes, and the cool morning dew made me shiver as they slid into my collar.
I clutched the half of the red-tasseled spear tassel left by my mother, my fingertips repeatedly rubbing it inside my sleeve.
The tassel was made of three strands of Shu brocade thread twisted together, a bright red color. The threads were inlaid with coarse sand from Yanmen Pass, each grain polished to a shine, rough and painful to the touch, yet heavy as if it were weighed down by the blood stained with the tip of a spear.
The Grand Tutor was dozing off on the white marble table, his white beard hanging down to his chest, stained with crumbs of osmanthus cake.
The book "The Art of War" slipped from my hand onto the bluestone slab, the pages rustling in the wind, with a freshly fallen peony petal caught in the rustling.
I tiptoed out of the palace. As I passed the imperial kitchen, Zhang Ma was lifting the lid of the steamer, and the sweet aroma of osmanthus cake, enveloped in white steam, filled the entire courtyard.
She called out through the carved wooden window, "Miss Yunxi, come and try a hot one! It's freshly steamed and very sweet!"
I gripped the tassel of my spear tightly without turning around, and instead slipped a heavy piece of silver into her hand. It was the pocket money the Emperor had given me last month, and I had saved up half of it.
He lowered his voice and said, "Leave two of the softest pieces for me to eat when I get back. They need to be hot; they won't taste good if they get cold."
Before leaving the palace, I placed the letter for the Emperor under the sandalwood inkstone. The ink was still wet, and the characters written with the wolf-hair brush were crooked and stained with some ink dust from the inkstone.
"Yunxi went to the northern border to guard Yanmen Pass for her parents."
"Bring back a wolf's tooth from the Western Qiang as a toy for His Majesty. It's heavier than the jade pendant in the palace, polished to a high shine, and quite fun to play with."
After finishing writing, fearing the emperor wouldn't see it, she deliberately moved the inkstone to the side, revealing the two characters "Yunxi" on the corner of the paper.
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