Qinglian Chronicles

[TW for NSFW, and Zhang Qinglian in general.]

In fact, Zhang Qinglian didn’t do anything excessive the following couple of days, because he often wasn’t in the Residence, sometimes he staying the night at the Palace at a frequency of about three or five days. He gave Hong Feng a separate room for her to sleep in when she wasn’t in the Residence.

When he returned from the Palace this time, Hong Feng was bringing ginseng soup in for him when she had an honest scare: Zhang Qinglian was reclined upon the bed, struggling to apply medicine to himself, hazily illuminated by the sun’s rays and dancing dust. The limbs of his snow white and delicate body have been twisted into strange positions, his long and messy black hair like strands of scaleless snakes. Petals of red wounds of various depths are sprinkled across his body.

Hong Feng gasped in fright, the porcelain cup in her hand falling to the ground with a ping, shattering into pure white powder as soup flew everywhere.

The person on the bed went rigid, frozen in a bizarre posture, like a butterfly that had been flying fast was made into a dried specimen in the blink of an eye.

He feebly toppled over, face pressed up against the bed as he panted, a fine amount of sweat upon his jade-like skin.

“What are you staring at?” Again with that sharp sort of tone as he slowly struggled to turn himself over, with certain areas starting to bleed. “Get over here and put the medicine on for me!”

Hong Feng is like a puppet that’s lost its soul, going to the front of the large bed step by step as light and shadow warp and weave and tangle in her eyes, and slowly crouched down. After taking the medicine, Zhang Qinglian laid face-up, closing his eyes and not looking at her. His white chest heaves up and down, watery blood and beads of sweat covering his body.

Calmly undressing that beautiful body causes her to feel shame, as she cannot bear to see these suddenly-appearing scars. Hong Feng gently wipes him clean bit by bit as if she’s handling something fragile, applying the good medicine bit by bit… The trembling in her hand is getting more and more terrible, and the moment she had to extract a piece of a broken porcelain wine cup coated in blood from him, she finally couldn’t stop tiny sobs from choking out her throat, her shoulders shaking.

Zhang Qinglian relaxed because of the object’s removal, and let out a sigh of relief. He also opened his eyes and made fun of her, “Can the lone heroine not stand this? His Majesty is the supreme ruler over all, in the end, with a kind heart and soft hands. Compared to what I’ve gone through in the past, nowadays it’s just child’s play…”

Hong Feng seems like she’s been stabbed with a knife, her body swaying, and only grits her silver teeth. She contrarily speeds up her work, rapidly treating his wounds well. Without saying a word, she gets up and goes out.

“Hold it!” Zhang Qinglian disregarded his pain and grabbed onto her wrist pulling her backwards and saying harshly, “What are you trying to do?!”

Hong Feng pulls back but can’t struggle free. Slowly turning her head, tears were flowing down her face. “I’m going to kill him… then he can’t torture you.”

Zhang Qinglian smiled brilliantly. “Kill him? How could you kill him? I’m afraid that with your martial arts nowadays, even beating me wouldn’t be easy. Don’t you know how many masters there are in there?”

She gazed at him in distress, clenching her fists until they turned white.

Zhang Qinglian’s eyes softened. He pulled her closer, saying gently. “It doesn’t matter, this actually isn’t common, it’s just when His Majesty occasionally makes a mistake by drinking too much. Don’t be… sad…”

She was crying loudly.

He held her in his arms, saying warm words of comfort, and slowly got her into bed. He kissed her tears, then her lips, then gradually her chest…

When the tears and wounds are transformed into some kind of flame, Hong Feng does not resist. She suffers quite a bit of pain, yet had the feeling of being purified. When she finally loses consciousness due to excessive exhaustion from a lack of prior sleep, she thinks: I want to say to Qing that we should go to find a place with beautiful mountains and clear waters and live our lives there happily. No being an official, and never seeing those people again… now, he might promise me that…

When she awoke, she saw Zhang Qinglian’s smiling face. His wounds weren’t alright, yet he’s very cheerful, eyes shining as he looked at her. It’s for that reason Hong Feng naturally thought that he wouldn’t at all object to her next words. “Brother Qingtong, we’ve forgotten what we’ve talked about before…”

Against expectations, Zhang Qinglian’s face greatly morphed into a sneer. “Forgotten? You don’t have to forget, because I cannot forget… The lone heroine is truly generous to be willing to forget! What a shame that I’m now under one person and above the rest. For what reason would I want to go live a poor life with you? You’re merely my concubine. Are you trying to overstep your authority?”

Hong Feng stared dumbstruck at him. He threw her clothes at her and said coldly, “Get out!”

Hong Feng returned to her own room, and not long after discovered that Tian Chun and Zhu Xianxi had been sent to guard her doorway and prohibit her from leaving. When evening came, Zhang Qinglian stole into her room and pushed himself on her. She resisted slightly and he bit her viciously, then leaned over her. “You’re not allowed to leave,” he said, unhinged. “You promised to follow me. You can’t go back on that…” His voice was unpleasant, as if he’s been crying.

She would later feel that she no longer wanted to think about any other problems. The future, whether right or wrong, is already topic out of reach.

Living becomes an instinct.

Zhang Qinglian didn’t want her again after that time, so much so that he avoided her, but wherever she went, it seemed like she was being spied on.

Until one day, he called for her in the middle of the night. When she opened her clothes as she’d done in the past, she noticed there was another person in bed with him; a pretty youth with translucent skin was moaning and panting under his body, the color of passion all over his face. He was loping onto him, their long beautiful hair adhering to them with sweat, as captivating as a painting under the moonlight. Noticing that she’d arrived, he stopped, inclining his face towards her and smiling. “Hong Feng, you’ve come. How about this? Let’s fool around together, okay?” The unnamed youth under him opened his eyes slightly and looked at her blearily, even reaching out a hand.

Hong Feng doesn’t remember whether she shrieked or not, or what escape route she took, and doesn’t remember at what point her heart broke with a slight sound.

Her days have been turbid, like water that was no longer flowing.

It seemed like she wanted to lift herself up and cast off the dregs by leaving him, but she had just barely packed up her things from the room when he ran in in a blind panic and hugged her from behind, crying miserably and shaking all over.

He had always been very unyielding, not crying even when he was beaten badly by the older children in his youth. That’s why her heart softens again, and voluntary goes to her downfall.

She only need not think about it. It’s better not to think.

In any case, she’d found him. Her life’s mission from before is already completed. So long as she doesn’t think, things can go down smooth and steady like this.

***

The opened peach blossoms have withered again and the willows are green once more. The beautiful springtime of my youth will be used up year after year in these muddy waters, getting farther and farther away from the long Hong Feng of the past…

Love is really a strange illness. With the right person at the wrong time, it could sometimes cure, and it could sometimes turn malignant.

On that, habit is truly the most powerful force. His evil acts, his debauchery, his fragility, his instability… because I can’t leave, I get used to it, drop by drop…

Does he love me? Did he ever? Does he still love me now? Do I love him, either? I’ve stopped thinking of these meaningless questions long ago.

Some things happen later. Some are clear-cut, some are vague.

There came a day when after he yet again came back from the Palace with injuries, the Residence had a frequent visitor by the name of Shao Qing who looked at him in a different way every day.

Who’s after that?

Then is a boy named Yao Jinzi. He spent a great amount of effort to capture him, and he fiercely torments him more than anyone else.

That boy is very pitiful, yet I always feel that his calm attitude is very fearsome.

It seems like he had some sort of quarrel with me. He smiled then, and asked if I was jealous.

Am I jealous? Did he fall in love with him?

I already don’t know, and I don’t think anymore.

I am merely a thing with no ability to feel.