Chapter 1 First Encounter
At the beginning of the founding of the Great Qing Dynasty, Emperor Gaozu toured the northern regions and happened upon the Chu clan. Amazed by their extraordinary ability to observe the stars and predict destiny, he decreed that the most skilled diviner from the clan be appointed as the Imperial Preceptor, and granted him residence in the Astrological Pavilion atop Lingtai Mountain outside the imperial city, to communicate with the will of Heaven. The Chu clan served as Imperial Preceptors for generations, and the imperial court generously rewarded the clan, allowing them to live peacefully in the north, with gold, silver, and jade flowing continuously along their route.
The ways of Heaven are subtle and mysterious; those who try to understand them will inevitably suffer the consequences. The Chu family has inherited the responsibility of divine revelation generation after generation, and has also suffered divine punishment generation after generation. Some have been plagued by illness, while others have died young. Yet, to secure the foundation of the nation, the emperors have never ceased their pursuit. The moment the previous imperial advisor died, the Chu family was forced to choose a new successor, and this cycle continued endlessly.
Subsequently, the Chu clan's bloodline gradually weakened, and their divination abilities also declined. The fate of the Great Qing Kingdom subsequently declined, its borders were repeatedly lost, and its cities fell to neighboring states.
In the third year of Zhaode, Wangshu of the Chu clan was born, and at that time, extraordinary celestial phenomena appeared. This child, at the age of four, understood the ways of heaven, and his first divination helped the border army achieve a great victory and recover a city.
The emperor was overjoyed upon hearing this and appointed him as the Imperial Preceptor, welcoming him into the Astrological Pavilion. For more than ten years thereafter, Chu Wangshu's divinations were always accurate. More than twenty battles were fought on the border, and all lost territory was recovered. The emperor was assassinated three times, but he was able to avoid it each time. The eldest prince, the third prince, and the fifth prince repeatedly led expeditions, and all of them returned with their armies intact.
In the twentieth year of Zhaode, Daqing had recovered its entire territory and thus launched a military expedition. However, in this campaign, Chu Wangshu's initial divination went astray, resulting in a defeat for the royal army. Half a year later, in a second battle, they finally captured the two cities of Cang and Ning, thus gaining control of the key transportation hubs of the Central Plains.
Although the war in Daqing temporarily ceased, its power still aweeded all other states. Neighboring countries offered gold, silk, and beautiful women annually in exchange for temporary peace.
Shen Qingmeng closed the storybook and opened the map of Lingtai Mountain. Her father would be returning home in three to five days, and she was thinking of buying him a thick cloak as a birthday gift.
Li's Pharmacy recently wanted to stock some medicinal herbs, saying they could be found on Lingtai Mountain. However, the mountain was steep, and even with the generous payment, no one wanted to take on the business. Upon hearing this, Shen Qingmeng excitedly went to find the shopkeeper, negotiated a price, and began studying the map, preparing to go into the mountain on a good day.
Winter was too cold, so Shen Qingmeng chose a sunny day and went into the mountains to collect herbs with a basket on her back.
Those hillsides and cliffs weren't difficult for Shen Qingmeng, but the medicinal herbs she was looking for were indeed scarce. She wandered through the mountains until the moon hung high in the trees before her baskets were finally full, fortunately already nearly twice the amount Li Ji needed.
Just as Shen Qingmeng was about to leave, she was drawn to a pavilion not far away.
At the summit of Lingtai Mountain, where the Astrology Pavilion stands. According to the stories, the Imperial Preceptor, with such remarkable achievements, would likely be frail and perhaps even near death.
For some reason, Shen Qingmeng had always been very interested in this imperial advisor, as if drawn by some unseen force.
She had read historical records from seven hundred years ago. The Liang Kingdom, which had been destroyed long ago, once enjoyed a glorious and prosperous period. During the reign of the ninth emperor of Liang, a female general named Qingmeng was appointed to a high position. After General Qingmeng died in battle, she was buried with her husband in the northern desert, which is now the northern lands. General Qingmeng's husband was named Chu Wangshu. General Chu was also a meritorious official who assisted the ninth emperor of Liang in ascending the throne, but unfortunately, he was seriously wounded and died while suppressing a rebellion.
When Shen Qingmeng first read this part, she expressed her curiosity about the Imperial Preceptor to Wanwan, the youngest daughter of the Wang family restaurant. Wanwan said that Qingmeng had probably read too many storybooks and was now delusional about it. How could the Imperial Preceptor, a man of such high status, have a past life connection with the daughter of a镖师 (bodyguard/escort)?
Whether it was hysteria or a genuine connection, Shen Qingmeng was curious. She glanced in the direction of the astrology pavilion, then covered the basket and hurried over.
Surprisingly, the Astrology Pavilion wasn't as heavily guarded as she had imagined. Shen Qingmeng lightly touched the ground with her toes, flipped over, and quickly traversed the roof beams. There was nothing special about it; it was just an ordinary wealthy family mansion with slightly higher walls and a few burly men patrolling the main gate.
There was a very tall pavilion, which was probably where the Imperial Advisor conducted astrological calculations.
As if guided by some strange force, Shen Qingmeng climbed up. But it was too high; she had barely touched the eaves when she slipped and fell.
Fortunately, the basket lid was still intact, and the medicine inside hadn't spilled out.
Shen Qingmeng stood up, dusted herself off, and before she could pick up the basket again, she saw a man leaning against the window behind her!
She quickly turned around, covered the man's mouth with one hand, and grabbed his neck with the other.
Unlike a conventional chokehold, Shen Qingmeng pinches a blood vessel instead of the trachea, which won't cause breathing difficulties or choking, but is still intimidating enough.
The man's expression was indifferent, showing no panic or dissatisfaction; he simply looked at Shen Qingmeng quietly.
Shen Qingmeng lowered her hand from his mouth and gestured to him: "You're not allowed to speak."
The man seemed somewhat puzzled, but still nodded slowly.
Shen Qingmeng quickly looked around and, finding that no one posed a threat to her, finally let go of the man.
The man took a pen and paper and wrote a line: Don't worry, no one will come here.
That strange feeling returned; Shen Qingmeng inexplicably wanted to get closer to him. She picked up a pen and wrote on the paper: Are you the Imperial Advisor?
The man nodded.
Shen Qingmeng looked at Chu Wangshu carefully.
She felt she had seen this face somewhere before, perhaps in a dream. Although equally handsome, the Chu Wangshu in her dream seemed darker and stronger, and the expression in his eyes was different. The person before her wore a thin robe, his hair was half-tied up, and his face showed an undeniable weariness.
How did the Imperial Advisor end up in such a state?
Shen Qingmeng sat on the window frame, scanning the environment in the attic. It didn't look like someone of high status at all; it was as simple as Qingmeng's own home.
Chu Wangshu then wrote on the paper: What are you looking at?
Shen Qingmeng realized that Chu Wangshu would not do something like shouting for people to arrest her, so she wrote: You should still speak.
"Okay." The man's voice was soft, and he sounded gentle.
Shen Qingmeng wrote on the paper: "Does the Imperial Preceptor have no one to serve him?"
Chu Wangshu shook her head. "I just had a bad divination, and I don't really like other people getting close to me."
Qingmeng glanced at the distance between herself and Chu Wangshu, which was already quite close—one was inside the window, and the other was on the window frame. She quickly moved to the side.
Seeing Qingmeng's appearance, Chu Wangshu couldn't help but smile. "You're alright. For some reason, I feel a sense of familiarity when I see you."
Qingmeng tore off a piece of paper, held it up to the window, and wrote: You look quite pretty when you smile.
Chu Wangshu didn't respond to the praise, but instead smiled wider as she looked at the words on the paper, "Why aren't you saying anything?"
Shen Qingmeng wrote only one word: mute.
"Feel sorry……"
Shen Qingmeng shrugged indifferently; she no longer cared about whether she could speak or not.
After a moment of silence, Shen Qingmeng jumped out of the window, picked up her basket, and prepared to say goodbye to Chu Wangshu. Chu Wangshu then asked, "Do you know how to wield a sword?"
Shen Qingmeng shook her head hesitantly.
I only know how to box. I've seen people practicing swordplay in taverns, but I've never tried it myself.
"I'll play the zither, how about you try sword dancing?" Chu Wangshu picked up his zither from the side and placed it on the table.
Shen Qingmeng neither agreed nor left, but just looked at him with a puzzled expression.
Chu Wangshu lowered her head somewhat dejectedly: "I'm sorry, I offended you..."
Shen Qingmeng hurriedly put down the basket and shook her head.
I'll try, but don't laugh at me.
Chu Wangshu nodded.
Shen Qingmeng climbed into the attic, picked up a cloak from inside the room, and draped it over Chu Wangshu. The winter night was very cold, and he looked like he was about to die, yet he was sitting by the window dressed so thinly, letting the wind blow on him.
Chu Wangshu did not accept the offer of kindness. Instead, he gently put away the cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it aside. The already dim light in his eyes seemed to darken even further: "I am not worthy to use it."
Shen Qingmeng didn't say much, then went out of the house and broke off a branch from a dead tree nearby.
Under the moonlight, Chu Wangshu sat inside the window, gently stroking the strings of his zither and playing music, while Shen Qingmeng awkwardly practiced her "sword dance" on the small terrace outside the window.
Shen Qingmeng didn't quite understand the music Chu Wangshu was playing, but it felt very different from the music played by the older women at the restaurant. Chu Wangshu's music carried a hint of melancholy.
Snowflakes drifted slowly down from the sky. Shen Qingmeng stopped what she was doing and reached out to catch the snowflakes.
A perfectly six-petaled snowflake landed on Qingmeng's sleeve without melting. Just as she was about to run to share the snowflake with Chu Wangshu, she heard the music suddenly stop.
Shen Qingmeng turned around abruptly and saw Chu Wangshu hunched over the table, clutching his chest in pain.
Heart disease? Shen Qingmeng rushed to his side. She wanted to ask Chu Wangshu where the medicine was, but she couldn't make a sound. Chu Wangshu also didn't have the strength to open his eyes to see Qingmeng's words or sign language.
Chu Wangshu clenched her fists tightly without uttering a single cry of pain.
One of the herbs Shen Qingmeng picked today was used to make medicine to relieve heart disease. She helped Chu Wangshu up, moved him to the bed, and brought in the medicine basket.
Chu Wangshu trembled violently from the excruciating pain in his chest, and his consciousness became hazy for a moment. Shen Qingmeng pried open his mouth and fed him something extremely bitter. She then pulled him into her arms, gently stroking Chu Wangshu's chest, and stubbornly pried open Chu Wangshu's tightly clenched fists, taking them in her own.
Shen Qingmeng looked at Chu Wangshu, who was gradually falling asleep in her arms, and reached out to stroke his slightly furrowed brows, feeling a pang of heartache for him.
Chu Wangshu, have I really seen you somewhere before?
It was still a bit cold in the attic. Shen Qingmeng couldn't find the charcoal brazier, so she helped Chu Wangshu lie down and covered him with a blanket. She was about to leave when the person on the bed grabbed her clothes.
Shen Qingmeng turned around and met Chu Wangshu's eyes. Although those eyes were somewhat dim, they were gentle and beautiful.
"Feel sorry……"
Shen Qingmeng looked puzzled. Why was this person always apologizing?
Chu Wangshu didn't know why, but he really wanted to spend more time with the girl who had fallen from the roof, so he kept her there. However, he didn't expect that he would suddenly be poisoned, which would cause the little girl to live in fear and have to take care of him.
Shen Qingmeng knelt down and sat beside Chu Wangshu's bed. She tucked Chu Wangshu in and gently patted him.
I'll take your picture, then go to sleep. I'll leave once you're sound asleep.
Shen Qingmeng looked at Chu Wangshu with a hint of anticipation, wondering if he could understand it.
Chu Wangshu nodded. "Thank you."
Wow, he can actually understand it.
Chu Wangshu lay on his side on the bed, facing Qingmeng. Qingmeng blew out the candle, held Chu Wangshu's hand with one hand, and gently patted his back with the other.
Such an intimate posture was certainly against ethics and morals, and Qingmeng had never done so to others. She thought that it was probably because the men she usually came into contact with were mostly strong men from the镖队 (bodyguard teams), and seeing such a delicate young master for the first time, it was inevitable that she would feel pity for him.
Chu Wangshu simply held Shen Qingmeng's hand gently and slowly closed his eyes.
The girl's hands weren't delicate; there were some thin calluses on her palms. But her hands were warm, and in just a few moments, they seemed to have warmed Chu Wangshu's entire winter night.
The next morning, Chu Wangshu slowly opened his eyes. The attic was empty except for him, as if everything last night was just a dream.
Some small, withered twigs were scattered around the bed. The girl who gathered herbs last night was not a dream.
A maid's voice came from outside the door: "Grand Preceptor, I've placed the food at the door. Please have some."
Chu Wangshu responded softly, but did not move at all.
The so-called Imperial Advisor was nothing more than a tool for the royal family to expand its territory and ward off disasters. When the tool failed, punishment was inevitable. Three days ago, Chu Wangshu, at the emperor's behest, divined the fate of the Third Prince, but failed to foreshadow his impending bloodshed. Upon hearing the news of the Third Prince's death, the emperor, in a fit of rage, cut off Chu Wangshu's antidote for half a month.
The third prince was stationed in the south, indulging in pleasure and debauchery by day. A few days ago, he even took the youngest princess of Cangning Kingdom as his concubine. His death was inevitable. The fact that the Queen of Cangning left him with a complete corpse was completely unexpected by Chu Wangshu.
It was just cramps for half a month, and Chu Wangshu didn't regret it.
Perhaps due to physical weakness, Chu Wangshu has been drowsy lately, feeling lethargic during the day and sitting by the window at night to look at the stars, not for astrology, but simply to gaze at the sky in a daze.
He didn't understand why the Chu family had always had a royal advisor. Perhaps it was because appointing one person could ensure the safety of the entire clan. But now, in this generation of the Chu family, there was only Chu Wangshu, and his so-called clansman was only his mother, who had absolutely no ability to divine.
The emperor brought Chu's mother closer to the capital and kept her in a temporary palace on the outskirts of the capital, but in reality, it was only to keep Chu Wangshu in check.
That year, Daqing recovered all its lost territory and was about to continue attacking other countries. Chu Wangshu did not want to use his abilities to persecute others, so after divination, he did not reveal everything and concealed some things, and Daqing was defeated.
The emperor brought Chu's mother to the astrological pavilion and, in front of Chu Wangshu, subjected her to caning as a form of punishment.
As the cane fell, Chu Wangshu grabbed a pair of scissors and pointed them at his own throat. He knelt beside the emperor, his voice trembling, "If Your Majesty blames me for my poor performance, please punish me without complaint. If Your Majesty insists on making things difficult for my mother, I am willing to commit suicide to atone for my sins."
From that day on, Chu Wangshu was given medicine by the emperor and had to take an antidote every half month to inhibit the spread of the toxin; otherwise, when the poison took effect, his heart would ache terribly.
Chu Wangshu's divination was a mixture of truth and falsehood, and the emperor could do nothing about it but to cut off his antidote for half a month afterward.
This is the fourth time.
Tonight seems a bit colder than last night. Chu Wangshu is still sitting by the window, gazing at the white expanse in the distance.
Will that girl fall from the eaves again tonight?
Lost in thought, Chu Wangshu drifted off to sleep again. He only woke up after a few light coughs and realized he was enveloped in warmth, and it seemed that no cold wind was blowing in through the window anymore.
Chu Wangshu slowly opened her eyes, and what came into view was the girl from last night.
She was writing something on the table when she was drawn up by Chu Wangshu's cough and looked up at him.
Author's Note:
This is a short story; the reason why the Astrologer's House is so lax in its defenses will be explained later.
Chu Wangshu is truly miserable; Shen Qingmeng is the only ray of light seeping through the cracks in his otherwise bleak life. [heart]
Ah, I should say it, falling in love with Shen Qingmeng is as simple as breathing. I really admire girls who are inherently beautiful and have their own independent world. [starry-eyed]
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