The wedding date between the Crown Prince of Great Liang and the daughter of the Thousand chanism Pavilion is set for March 26.
Witch Mountain is but a journey of ten to twenty days from the Imperial City of Great Liang. It is now early February, so even departing in another month would not be too late.
Ever since the group settled here, the chatterbox Ji Li, the endlessly talkative Tan’er, the domineering antics of Treasure Piggy and his little cohorts, the Miao King who refused to leave no matter how thick-skinned it made him appear, and Qing Shuang and Yu Zichuan—the duo caught munching on lons every few days by Liu Muye—had all brought an unusually lively atmosphere to Witch Mountain.
"Changle."
After finishing her reading in the Book Pavilion, ng Qianqian imdiately went to find Shang Changle, who was soaking in a hot spring.
Shang Changle’s cheeks were flushed, her complexion far better than it had been before.
"Sister."
Shang Changle rose from the water.
When she had first started using the hot spring, every movent she made required Ban Xia’s assistance.
Yet in less than a month, she could now move freely within the warm waters.
"Hurry and change your clothes."
ng Qianqian said with a smile.
"Mm."
Behind a sheer curtain, Shang Changle shed her wet garnts and donned an outfit befitting a woman of Miaojiang.
And truth be told, the outfit suited her rather well.
"Sit."
ng Qianqian invited Shang Changle to sit on a stone bench by the hot spring, taking a dry towel to gently dry Shang Changle’s damp, flowing hair.
Shang Changle closed her eyes, savoring the care.
ng Qianqian’s lips curved into a slight smile.
"Sister."
As ng Qianqian was halfway through drying her hair, Shang Changle spoke softly, "Are you all planning to leave Witch Mountain?"
"Mm." ng Qianqian did not hide it from her. "We will descend the mountain early the morning after tomorrow."
"To the Thousand chanism Pavilion?"
Shang Changle asked.
Officially, the trip was to et an old acquaintance of the Supre Emperor. But as clever as Shang Changle was, how could she not guess they intended to seek vengeance on the Thousand chanism Pavilion?
Instead of answering imdiately, ng Qianqian asked, "Changle, do you believe in your own origins?"
"I am Shang Changle. I believe in myself."
Shang Changle replied without hesitation.
To be honest, ng Qianqian was slightly taken aback.
She could sense Shang Changle’s dependence on her, and she believed Shang Changle’s faith in the Thousand chanism Pavilion had surely wavered. But this unwavering conviction in Shang Changle’s response caught her by surprise.
"Changle, are you hiding sothing from us?"
Shang Changle hesitated for a mont before speaking quietly, "When I was very young, I often pretended to be asleep and overheard argunts between the Pavilion Master and the Pavilion Master’s Wife. I don’t rember what they argued about, but I knew it was about ."
"About you?"
Why only about Changle, and not both her and Wuyou?
The question had just crossed ng Qianqian’s mind when she looked at Changle’s lancholic face, her heart stirring with realization.
Changle bore a striking resemblance to their second aunt in her youth. Could it be that when Gongsun Yanming saw Changle, it reminded him of the second aunt who had passed away?
If that were the case, then Gongsun Yanming truly was despicable.
To love soone by ans of force and coercion, to destroy them if they could not be possessed, to wallow in self-perceived devotion—what kind of man is that?
Shang Changle spoke softly, "I could always feel a subtle rejection from the Pavilion Master’s Wife. I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough, because I was naturally frail and brought her no pride... It wasn’t until I went to the Capital City and t you and Brother-in-law that I understood—my very existence was a thorn in her side."
ng Qianqian’s heart ached as she pulled her into a comforting embrace, caressing her face. "Changle, you are the most wonderful girl in the world. You aren’t the least bit weak. You’re strong, just as strong as your parents were in their youth."
Shang Changle clung to her tightly. "Sister, can you tell ... what kind of people were my parents?"
A smile of reminiscence spread across ng Qianqian’s face. "Second Uncle and Second Aunt... Ah..."
-
On the eve of their departure, ng Qianqian finished reading the book on rare plants given to her by Liu Muye and returned it to him in person.
Liu Muye said to ng Qianqian, "I need to make a trip to the Divine Prayer Hall. You will accompany ."
ng Qianqian replied respectfully, "Yes, Grandmother."
Miaojiang worshipped both the Witch God and the Gu God. In the Divine Prayer Hall stood the statues of these two deities. On the first day of each month, the people of Witch Mountain would co to the hall to pray to the Heavenly God.
As the guardian of the Divine Prayer Hall, Liu Muye spent at least two hours there daily.
From what ng Qianqian had observed, it was most often in the morning, and each ti, Liu Qingyun was brought along.
Liu Qingyun found it utterly exhausting.
As they passed by the two statues, ng Qianqian bowed reverently.
Since her rebirth, she had developed a newfound sense of awe for the divine.
Liu Muye guided ng Qianqian to the secret room of the Divine Prayer Hall.
What ng Qianqian had not expected was that the room was stocked with coldly gleaming weapons, one after another.
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