Chapter 132: In This Life, There Are Those Who Are Mad with Love (III)

The Ninth Prince wishes to travel to the capital, Jingzhou, with her? Chuxiu lowered her eyes in contemplation, offering no immediate reply. She felt the request was somewhat abrupt; even if they were to travel in separate carriages, it would still be considered improper by the standards of decorum should word get out.

After a moment’s thought, Chuxiu understood the Prince’s intent. He likely wished to enjoy the hospitality of the Yun clan along the way, but spoke too hastily, failing to express himself clearly. With this realization, Chuxiu smiled faintly and replied to Nie Peixiao: "I must attend to business matters in various regions along the journey, which will likely affect your pace. You are welcome to proceed ahead, and the Yun clan will certainly arrange for your accommodations and needs throughout the trip."

Before he could respond, Chuxiu turned to Prince Mu: "May I borrow your paper and brush?"

Prince Mu gestured for her to proceed, his silent consent accompanied by a faint smile.

Chuxiu walked to the desk, lifted her sleeves, and began to grind the ink. She had not performed this task in a long time, and the act left her momentarily dazed, a memory of Yun Ci flickering through her mind. Quickly regaining her composure, she laid out a sheet of cut rice paper, focused her thoughts, dipped the brush, and wrote with a swift, fluid hand.

Once finished, she checked the content, blew gently on the ink until it dried, and folded the letter with elegant grace. She presented it to Nie Peixiao: "Whenever you arrive at a new location, simply show this letter to the manager of the local Yun clan bank, and they will see to your arrangements."

Nie Peixiao stared at the stunning woman with her faint, gentle smile, his mind momentarily blank. He reached out to take the letter, his expression stiff as he squeezed out four words: "Many thanks, Madame."

Chuxiu nodded, saying nothing more.

Nie Peixiao gripped the letter, a sour, bitter feeling rising in his chest. His suggestion to travel together had been a momentary lapse in judgment; since speaking, he had been caught in a torment of regret and anticipation, his heart pulled between the urge to distance himself and the desire to draw closer.

He had expected Madame Chuxiu to agree, but she was unexpectedly cautious and... self-respecting.

Nie Peixiao did not know if she had deliberately misinterpreted his meaning, but since she had written the letter, he could not explain his original intent, as it would appear he harbored ulterior motives for traveling with a widow.

He offered a strained smile, opened the letter, and scanned it. "There is no seal on this letter. Will the managers of the Yun clan banks truly trust it?"

"They will," Chuxiu confirmed firmly. "Though it bears no seal, it contains a secret code that you, Your Highness, would not be able to discern."

Hearing this, Nie Peixiao dared not pry further. Looking at the letter again, he found no flaws, though the handwriting... "Madame practices the Slender Gold script?"

"Why? What does Your Highness think of it?" Chuxiu asked, noting his surprise.

"The writing is excellent, but... I had thought most women practiced the Hairpin Flower script." This was indeed what Nie Peixiao truly thought.

At these words, Chuxiu’s expression darkened in an instant. "Most women practice the Hairpin Flower script"—once, Yun Ci had said the very same thing, word for word.

Forced to maintain her composure in front of others, she summoned a smile and replied, "The Hairpin Flower script lacks character. This Slender Gold script of mine was taught to me by my late husband."

This time, it was Nie Peixiao’s turn to darken. He had not missed her momentary sorrow, though he had not expected it to be linked to the late Marquis Lixin. It was said that Madame Chuxiu had once been a personal attendant to the Marquis, so it was only natural she had inherited his skill in calligraphy.

For some reason, a scene flashed through Nie Peixiao’s mind: the noble and refined Marquis Lixin guiding Madame Chuxiu’s hand as she wrote, the two of them whispering flirtatiously, or perhaps the Marquis holding her by the waist, guiding her brush while breathing in the scent of her hair...

At the thought, Nie Peixiao felt an intense, bile-like irritability. Prince Mu, watching from the side, noticed his younger brother’s growing agitation and silence. Fearing he might impulsively say something irreversible, he quickly said to Chuxiu, "The departed are gone; I ask that you temper your grief, Madame. The hour is late, so I shall not keep you for luncheon."

Chuxiu knew Prince Mu always spoke with hidden meanings, assuming he was signaling that he had matters to discuss with his brother, so she bowed again: "I shall take my leave. Please remain, Your Highnesses."

Nie Peixiao stood motionless, not even offering a nod of acknowledgement, his gaze fixed blankly on her. Even after she had vanished from sight, he did not look away, as if her shadow still lingered in the air, worth gazing at again and again.

Prince Mu followed the rules of etiquette, escorting Chuxiu out of the courtyard before returning.

"Jingduo, what has come over you today? Such rudeness," Prince Mu’s mild reproach pierced Nie Peixiao’s ears.

"Was I rude?" Nie Peixiao asked, suddenly anxious. Did Madame Chuxiu think him rude? He pressed his thin lips together, his expression somber. "Perhaps it is the hangover from last night; I did not sleep well."

With a "clatter," Prince Mu opened the brocade box Chuxiu had brought, pulled out the jade flute, and waved it before Nie Peixiao. "And how do you explain this? How did your most prized possession fall into the hands of Madame Chuxiu? And she even asked me to help find its owner?"

Seeing Nie Peixiao remain silent, Prince Mu continued, "There is only one such flute in the world, and you never let it leave your side. Do not tell me I am mistaken."

Nie Peixiao kept his eyes lowered, his jaw tight. His face was a mask of suppressed despair; his brows were furrowed like jagged mountain peaks, his gaze like a bottomless abyss.

Seeing this, Prince Mu’s heart sank as he began to guess the truth. The thing he feared most had come to pass. Though he did not know when Nie Peixiao had fallen, or how much he knew, it was clear that Madame Chuxiu was completely unaware.

Everything could still be saved.

Prince Mu held the flute and sighed slowly. "Jingduo, when I was caught in the love and hate for Luan Su, you were the clear-headed bystander who advised me... now, do you wish for me to repeat the words you once said to me?"

Nie Peixiao snapped back to reality, teeth gritted. "Rest assured, Seventh Brother, I have my limits."

Prince Mu was silent for a moment before asking, "Do you remember what I once told you?"

Nie Peixiao remembered. At that time, Luan Su had been diagnosed as pregnant with Chen Xuan’s child, yet his Seventh Brother remained infatuated, even willing to claim the child as his own. When he had urged his brother to let go, his brother had said: "Jingduo, never touch the words 'power' or 'passion' in this life. Once you are tainted by either, you will never be able to let go."

He had always remembered this, using it as a warning to never indulge in the greed for power or the mire of romantic love. He had thought he was doing well, that he had truly kept himself untainted...

Fortunately, it was not too late to turn back. Nie Peixiao took a deep breath and offered a feigned, easy smile: "Seventh Brother worries too much. I was merely struck by Madame Chuxiu’s beauty and could not look away for a moment. But I do not forget her status, nor do I have the audacity to harbor such desires."

"Truly?" Prince Mu was skeptical.

"Truly!" Nie Peixiao said firmly, clutching the letter Chuxiu had written.

Could he have overthought it? It seemed his younger brother did not yet know that Madame Chuxiu was Hanchu. Prince Mu decided to wait and observe. He reflected that one was in Fangzhou and the other in the capital; besides this current journey, they would likely have no further opportunity to meet.

Moreover, Madame Chuxiu’s attitude just now had been clear: she wished to avoid any impropriety.

Feeling slightly more at ease, Prince Mu explained: "Do not blame me for being overly concerned... It is because I have tasted the heartbreak of love that I do not wish to see you repeat my mistakes..."

"I understand. Seventh Brother is kind-hearted," Nie Peixiao said with a strained smile, his eyes falling on the jade flute in Prince Mu’s hand. "Please, keep this flute for me for now."

"What? You are willing to part with it?" Prince Mu raised an eyebrow.

Nie Peixiao smiled bitterly to himself, but said aloud, "If I carry it with me, and Madame Chuxiu happens to discover it on the way to the capital, I would have no way to defend myself..."

He could not tell his brother that he no longer had the courage to play the flute. He feared that every time he played it, he would think of her, of that face...

Nie Peixiao did not realize that his final words had inadvertently revealed his desire to travel with Chuxiu. Prince Mu heard it, but simply frowned. "Very well. I shall keep the flute here. When you wish to have it back, I will have someone send it to you by fast horse."

Prince Mu’s phoenix eyes narrowed as he offered a cryptic warning: "Be careful on your journey."

*****

Two days later, Nie Peixiao and Chuxiu departed for the capital on the same day. Before leaving, Chuxiu had made all necessary arrangements, and fearing she would not return to Yanlan City in time for the New Year, she entrusted the household management to the Elder Madame Xie.

This was a rare opportunity, not only to resolve the matters of Yun Xian and Shen Yu but also to gauge the political landscape and tend to her business. Most importantly, with the year-end approaching, she could use this as an excuse to cultivate relationships with the noble families in the capital.

Since the Prince Mu estate was in the south of the city and the Marquis Lixin estate was in the north, even though they departed at the same hour, Nie Peixiao had a much easier path than Chuxiu. Traveling south to the capital, the Prince Mu estate in the south was naturally more convenient.

There were two routes from Yanlan City to the capital: one by water, one by land. Both Nie Peixiao and Chuxiu chose the land route, resulting in them arriving in each city one after the other. At every stop, Nie Peixiao used the letter Chuxiu had written to arrange his stay, though in his heart, he hoped to learn more about her.

He knew this was like quenching thirst with poison, but it was only for this journey; once they reached the capital, their paths would diverge. He would let himself indulge in this self-deception for a few more days, and then, he would let go completely.

With this mindset, Nie Peixiao seemed to grow more at ease. Yet, to his disappointment, while he was treated with great hospitality at every stop, he never saw Madame Chuxiu. Was it intentional? Or was she truly occupied with business? In any case, the distance between them grew ever wider.

At first, Chuxiu was able to enter the same cities just after him; after leaving the borders of Fangzhou, she arrived half a day later; after twenty days on the road, he was a full day ahead of her.

In other words, they could no longer be in the same city. This realization left Nie Peixiao deeply despondent, especially since he had not seen her once. However, this did not mean he was unaware of her whereabouts.

In fact, Feng Fei reported to him daily how many miles away she was, and whether the distance was increasing or decreasing.

On the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, Nie Peixiao arrived at the capital first, his frustration deepening. The journey of following one another had finally ended, and the agony of knowing her location yet being unable to see her left him distraught and tormented.

By his count, she should have arrived in two days. But by the eighteenth, there was still no sign of Madame Chuxiu’s party. Nie Peixiao finally began to panic.