Huai Dream Grass, Soul Returning Incense 7 (13)
When Qian Hua overheard the little spirits’ conversation with Su Qingtang, she knew the truth could no longer be hidden.
“Mother,” she said coldly, “you always said you gave birth to both of us. But tell me—can you really tell which one of your daughters is which?”
A bolt of lightning split the sky, tearing it open in blinding white.
Madam Qian’s eyes widened, moving from confusion to doubt, and finally to shock.
“You… you’re Little Duo?”
Everyone else froze as well, their expressions mirroring Su Qingtang’s disbelief. What was going on? Wasn’t Madam Qian supposed to love her younger daughter the most? How could she fail to recognize her own child?
“When I was very little,” Qian Duo said softly, “my sister tried to abandon me in the mountains. But I had dragon aura within me—the creatures of the forest guided me back.” She smiled faintly and looked at Su Qingtang. “That’s also why I could never look you in the eye.”
Su Qingtang understood. The plant spirits often gathered around her—if Qian Duo had seen that, it would have raised too many questions.
“Later, I asked my sister why. She said it was because I stole all your love. Hah! What love? If it was love, would you have made me drink that thing? You just wanted your precious research—to make a name for yourself. But why did I have to be the one to suffer for it? Why?”
Qian Duo laughed then, a hollow, bitter laugh. “I even gave my sister an idea. We could switch identities. Our father’s research included disguise techniques—I learned how to use them.”
“After that, we switched often. Until that day—the weather wasn’t even this bad. Father wanted to find that dragon again. But that dragon wasn’t stupid. You’d already stripped its tendon; why would it give you more blood?”
“But Father wouldn’t listen. He went anyway—to his death. My meddlesome sister too—she didn’t stop him, she went along. How touching—father and daughter, dying together.”
“When I arrived, most of the bodies were already gone.” Qian Duo flicked her fingers, flinging away droplets of rain mixed with blood that stank of decay.
“You all know what happened after. I picked up a few pieces, brought them home, and played both roles until I decided it was time for one of them to die. Between the two, being the elder sister was easier—I didn’t have to go into that cursed mountain.”
Qian Duo finished and turned to her mother, who stared at her in stunned silence. She reached out and lifted Madam Qian’s chin with one finger.
“Mother, don’t try to guilt-trip me with your so-called morality. The moment you put the Huai Dream Grass in my hand and let it merge with the dragon aura inside me—you were the one who went wrong.”
“Little Duo…” Madam Qian reached out, clutching her daughter’s skirt. “I—”
Qian Duo jerked away violently. “Don’t pretend. I kept telling myself you loved us both. But everything you’ve ever done proved that belief was a joke.”
She strode toward Yin Guhuai, her chin lifted proudly. “May I call you Your Highness, too?”
“I saw you long before all this,” she continued. “In the dreams the Huai Dream Grass gave me. A little version of you, and that overbearing Su Qingtang beside you. Her life was what a normal girl’s should be—pampered by her parents, cherished, free to be mischievous.”
“But me?” She laughed bitterly, then turned to Zhou Kaili. “I don’t know why you helped me, but… thank you. Just don’t ever do that again.”
Finally, she stood before Motu. “The dragon horn is in His Highness’s possession. Some of its power merged into me. I can repay that with my life—but I have one request.”
Motu studied her face, so unlike Qian Tianming’s, and sighed. “Speak.”
Qian Duo knelt gracefully and offered a formal salute—the kind one would learn only in a high minister’s household. “Please, spare my mother.”
She raised her head, her voice steady. “I am not a good daughter or sister, and she is not a good wife or mother. But she gave me life. I remember what Minister Su said after Miss Su knocked out His Highness’s tooth: ‘Our bodies, our hair, our skin—all are gifts from our parents. Without them, we would not exist.’ So I beg you—grant this request. If there is a next life, I will repay this debt, even if I must become grass beneath her feet.”
She had learned those words from Su Qingtang’s memories.
The rain lasted a long, long time—long enough for Motu’s broken horn to fully heal before it finally stopped.
“Uncle Mo,” Yin Guhuai asked, following Emperor Xide’s orders to invite them back, “are you sure you want to remain here in Mount Wunian?”
Motu gazed at the misty peaks and nodded. “Yes. I’ll stay. The spirits of this mountain need someone to keep the grudges of blood and death under control.”
“Very well,” Yin Guhuai said. “We’ll be in Yingyue City. If you ever need anything, you’re always welcome.”
Motu chuckled. “That young lady… Miss Su…” He began to speak further, but his voice caught—the words unspoken. Meeting Yin Guhuai’s knowing look, he laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder. “Interesting. Very interesting indeed.”
He had to admit—Su Qingtang’s way of hitting people was oddly satisfying. Her strength and aim were perfect—enough to hurt, but not enough for others to notice.
Her father, Minister Su, truly was a master of the art of “disciplinary elegance.”
Yin Guhuai rubbed his shoulder, suddenly remembering something. “Senior Motu, we should check on young Moti.”
Ah yes—Su Qingtang had wanted a dragon pearl, hadn’t she?
When he entered the house, he found his men standing in awkward silence. Moti was sniffling, crying as he pulled up his pants.
“Su Qingtang!”
“Yes!” she blurted instinctively, snapping to attention. Seeing it was Yin Guhuai, she relaxed a little—but his tone, sharp and full of authority, still made her flinch.
Motu picked up his son and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Hey now, what’s all this?”
Moti peeked nervously at Su Qingtang.
【What’s he looking at me for? He slapped me unconscious underwater and I didn’t even complain!】
【I just wanted him to show his real form so I could check his horn. Is that a crime?】
【And if he transforms, he’ll have to take off his clothes, right? What if he tears them? Who’s going to give him new ones?】
【Why do I sound like some kind of pervert now?!】
Motu chuckled. “Moti, is your horn better now? Show Father.”
Moti’s eyes welled up again. It wasn’t the horn he was embarrassed about—it was that this lady could talk without moving her mouth. Still, he obeyed and tilted his head, revealing the newly healed horn.
It gleamed faintly. He shook his head, trying to adjust, the motion clumsy and cute. Everyone watching couldn’t help but laugh.
On the journey back, they rode flying horses. This time, they weren’t in a hurry, and the others even slowed down on purpose. Su Qingtang reached out her hand, trying to grab a passing cloud.
【Wow, this feels amazing!】
“Gu An, Gu An, look!” she said aloud, pointing. “That cloud looks like a puppy, doesn’t it?”
“Mm. A puppy playing with a ball,” Gu An replied with a small smile.
【No—it looks more like a pearl! So round and shiny—wait, a pearl?! A dragon pearl—ahhhhhhhhhh!】
Her shriek pierced through the clouds. She suddenly remembered—the dragons owed her their lives! They should give her one!
Inside the carriage, Yin Guhuai took a slow sip of tea, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Serves you right, little rascal.
Gu An, recalling what Su Qingtang had said earlier, asked, “By the way, Miss Su, didn’t you say we were going to Mount Wunian to find your friend? So where is—”
Before he could finish, Su Qingtang clamped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. “Shhh! I made that up. She’s fine—probably off somewhere having fun. But if I hadn’t said that, His Highness would never have let me go.”
【Though, to be fair, she did mention Mount Wunian once.】
Gu An nodded. That made sense. They continued on their way home.
At the gates of Yingyue City, Minister Su and his wife waited anxiously at a teahouse, keeping watch for the familiar carriage of the City Patrol. Su Qingtang had written ahead, clearly stating their arrival date, and the minister had even taken leave from court to be there.
“Master, Madam—they’re here!” a servant shouted, running toward them as the carriage approached.
The rhythmic clop-clop of hooves grew louder. Su Qingtang spotted her parents instantly, her heart leaping with joy. Gu An reined the horses to a stop, and before the carriage had even fully halted, she jumped down.
“Father! Mother! Did you miss me?”
Still the same bright, bouncing, carefree girl—she threw herself into her parents’ arms.
Yin Guhuai stepped down gracefully and bowed. “Minister Su. Madam.”
The minister hugged his daughter briefly before she wriggled free, already clinging to her mother. He sighed—he was used to this by now. “Your Highness, my daughter must have troubled you.”
“On the contrary,” Yin Guhuai said sincerely. “She’s been of great help to the City Patrol—both at the Huai Tree and in Mount Wunian.”
After hugging her parents, Su Qingtang beamed. “Father, Mother, I booked a table at Yipin Pavilion! Let’s all go together—His Highness, Gu An, Gu Quan, and everyone from the Patrol too! We’ve never all eaten together.”
Minister Su, long seasoned in politics, smiled knowingly. “I’ve already received the Emperor’s permission.”
“Good,” Yin Guhuai said. “We’ll return first to report the situation in Mount Wunian.”
“Then we’ll meet you at Yipin Pavilion later,” Minister Su said.
By dusk, everyone was gathered at the restaurant.
After the meal was served, Yin Guhuai gave a brief report, then excused himself to let the others enjoy freely.
Su Qingtang, noticing he wasn’t at the table, asked a waiter where he went, then climbed up to the rooftop balcony.
“Your Highness, why aren’t you eating with everyone?”
Yin Guhuai, gazing out at the city lights, poured himself a drink. “Do you like eating with your boss?”
Su Qingtang thought back to her modern life—company dinners where everyone secretly wished the manager would leave early. “Oh… right.”
Yipin Pavilion’s design leaned more toward elegant pavilions and open terraces, unlike the opulent Tianxiang Pavilion. Leaning against the railing, Su Qingtang propped her chin on her hand.
“Your Highness,” she asked quietly, “when you said you liked me in Mount Wunian… was that true, or just something you said to deal with Qian Hua?”
She wasn’t stupid. The timing of his confession had been suspicious, and now that things were calm, she could think it through.
Yin Guhuai’s hand trembled slightly, the wine in his cup rippling. He turned his gaze toward her—her flushed cheeks, the soft glow of lantern light outlining her features. She really was beautiful. He’d known that since they were children—even the uniform of the academy had looked different on her.
【Why isn’t he answering? If he doesn’t answer, how am I supposed to ask for the dragon pearl?】
Yin Guhuai closed his eyes for a moment, regaining his composure. When he opened them again, his gaze was calm, his voice steady as he finally replied—