On the way back to the manor, Dongfang Yan unusually refrained from riding his horse, instead sharing the carriage with Lin Qingyue while casually inquiring about some matters.
“When did you learn Mystic Arts? How is it that this prince was unaware?”
“There are many things your humble consort is capable of, though the prince knows very little of them.”
Indeed, Dongfang Yan’s understanding of Lin Qingyue was practically nonexistent.
Before their marriage, during his visits to the Marquis’ residence, he had occasionally crossed paths with Lin Qingyue. Each time, the young maiden would lower her head with downcast eyes, appearing timid and reserved.
Dongfang Yan had never even gotten a clear look at her features.
Now, as he lifted his gaze, he saw the woman in the carriage using her delicate fingers to lift the curtain, watching the scenery outside with keen interest.
The long street outside was just beginning to light up with lanterns. The warm yellow glow filtered through the window, casting a soft radiance that highlighted her gentle features.
In her dark eyes lay emotions he couldn’t decipher – though they held a smile, there was no trace of genuine joy or sincerity.
For the first time, Dongfang Yan found himself wanting to glimpse her true thoughts, to understand what kind of person she really was.
Suddenly, a different light shimmered in her autumn-water bright eyes, as if something had captured her attention.
“Stop the carriage!” Lin Qingyue called out abruptly, and before the carriage had fully halted, she impatiently jumped down.
“Be careful!”
Dongfang Yan’s warning came almost instinctively. When he followed her out, he found Lin Qingyue standing before a jewelry stall, staring intently at a hairpin in her hand.
It was a simple wooden hairpin adorned with clusters of bright yellow osmanthus flowers at its tip. Though elegantly designed, one could tell at a glance that the materials were ordinary, nothing more than common market wares.
Yet Lin Qingyue seemed transfixed, only snapping out of her reverie when Dongfang Yan remarked, “If you desire a hairpin, this prince can accompany you to Treasure Pavilion to select one. Their jewelry uses precious materials far superior to these common market stalls.”
Remembering the events of the previous night, he thought to gift her a set of jewelry as thanks.
“That won’t be necessary.” Lin Qingyue removed the golden hairpin from her hair and handed it to the vendor. “I didn’t bring any money today. I’ll exchange this golden hairpin for your wooden one.”
Dongfang Yan asked curiously, “If you truly like it, this prince can simply buy it for you.”
But Lin Qingyue had already handed over the golden hairpin, telling the vendor, “No need to wrap it. I’ll wear it now.”
Dongfang Yan looked at the osmanthus wooden hairpin in her hair, finding it increasingly displeasing to the eye.
“You are, after all, a respectable princess consort. Wearing a crude wooden hairpin while parading through the streets – do you want people to think this prince is stingy with you?”
“Nothing in this world is more precious than what brings joy to my heart.”
As she spoke these words, her tone was light, but her eyes held emotions he couldn’t comprehend.
Her delicate fingers gently touched the osmanthus flowers on the hairpin. Each tiny blossom seemed to carry memories from a previous life, washing over her in overwhelming waves.
She seemed to see that person again, standing beneath the osmanthus tree, smiling as he told her: “Osmanthus remains evergreen through all seasons, its fragrance lingering far and wide, symbolizing love that remains faithful and unchanging.”
Back then, Lin Qingyue had countless handsome men in her harem, having long cultivated a fickle and heartless nature. Even when faced with sincere devotion, she didn’t consider it precious.
She broke off a branch of osmanthus, sniffed it, then casually discarded it: “Pity that flowers must wither, and love must fade. Don’t speak to me of faithfulness and constancy – how tedious.”
As she turned to leave, from the corner of her eye she saw his lonely figure bending down to pick up the discarded blossoms.
A few days later, he personally crafted an osmanthus wood hairpin and said to her, “Your Majesty dislikes fallen flowers, so I made this osmanthus hairpin that will never wither. Your Majesty, do you like it?”
“Hmph, crude.” Though her words were full of disdain, she ultimately accepted the hairpin.
Later, when her tyranny was overthrown and she perished in flames, the three thousand beauties of the harem scattered like monkeys fleeing a falling tree.
Only he, pushing through the chaotic crowd, crossing the sea of fire, rushed toward her like a moth to flame…
After transmigrating, her state of mind had changed considerably.
She deliberately avoided mentioning past events. Only tonight, accidentally catching sight of that osmanthus hairpin, did it evoke many memories.
Indeed, Dongfang Yan was right. The hairpin was rather crude, far less exquisite than the one that person had made.
Alas, flowers may bloom again, but people never meet twice.
Not far from the royal manor now, Lin Qingyue decided to abandon the carriage and continue on foot.
Strangely, Dongfang Yan also stopped using his carriage, condescending to walk beside her, though Lin Qingyue had no mood for further pretense with him.
Leaving the bustling main street behind, a dark shadow suddenly stumbled out from the upcoming intersection, collapsing with a thud against the wall.
It was a severely emaciated tabby cat, covered in blood.
“Where’s that beast?”
“Damn it, daring to ruin our fun! I’ll skin it alive and stew it in a pot!”
“The damn cat’s over there, it can’t escape!”
Three men carrying bricks and clubs came cursing and shouting.
Seeing Lin Qingyue and Dongfang Yan, along with their guards and carriages, the men were startled.
“Nobles are present, do not disturb them. Get lost!” a guard coldly rebuked.
The leader boldly explained, “Forgive us, nobles. We were just walking peacefully when this mad cat suddenly attacked us. That’s the beast—let us take it away to prevent it from suddenly attacking and disturbing you again.”
Dongfang Yan gave the men a cold glance, noting the deep bloody scratches on their faces and hands, some wounds still bleeding.
Truly a mad cat!
Dongfang Yan never liked cats and disdained associating with commoners. Without a word, he turned to leave.
The guards, tasked only with protection, had no interest in meddling.
The men bowed obsequiously to Dongfang Yan before hurriedly surrounding the tabby cat, lifting it by its hind legs.
The cat, previously unconscious, woke from the pain of being dragged, its head weakly struggling as it emitted faint, blood-streaked meows from its mouth.
Lin Qingyue stopped and suddenly said, “Wait, you can’t take that cat.”
The men froze. One explained with a fawning expression, “This is a mad cat that bites anyone it sees. The elderly and children nearby have all been bitten. We brothers just couldn’t stand it and decided to catch and dispose of it.”
“Oh, is that so?” Lin Qingyue smiled. “But it just told me it saw you three harassing a woman, which is why it attacked you.”