20demayo Chapter 146 Brother and sister-in-law become sisters; there is no greater absurdity in the world.
Chapter 146 Brother and sister-in-law become sisters; there is no greater absurdity in the world.
Xu Longxiang trembled all over!
He wanted to rush in.
He wanted to kill Qin Mu.
He wanted to rescue his sister and Jiang Qingxue.
But he can't.
Because this is the imperial palace, because there are 100,000 imperial guards outside, and because Qin Mu has that unfathomable "land immortal" by his side.
If he rushes in now, he will not only fail to save his sister, but he will also endanger himself, the future of 300,000 soldiers in the north, and the century-old foundation of the Xu family.
He could only watch.
I watched helplessly.
Like a prisoner nailed to a cross, enduring excruciating pain.
After a long while, the candlelight inside the window finally went out.
The shadow disappeared.
Everything returned to silence.
Only the rustling of the night wind through the treetops and the distant sound of drums could be heard.
Xu Longxiang remained standing on the tree, motionless.
The moonlight shone on him, outlining his stiff, stone-carved figure.
The dark python robe fluttered slightly in the night breeze, like a banner summoning souls.
There were no more tears, no more anger, no more pain in his eyes.
There was only a cold, almost empty, deathly silence.
After a long while, he slowly turned around, jumped down from the ancient cypress, and landed on the ground.
He staggered a little, but quickly regained his balance.
Then, he took a step and walked back the way he came.
The steps were slow and heavy.
Every step felt like walking on a knife's edge.
Every step felt like walking into hell.
But he didn't turn around.
Not even once.
Because he knew that from this night onward, some things had changed forever.
My elder sister became Qin Mu's concubine.
Qingxue became Qin Mu's concubine.
Mo Shen is dead.
The intelligence network has been exposed.
And he, Xu Longxiang, the heir apparent of the Northern Border King, the "Little Northern Border King" of the Great Qin Dynasty...
He became a complete failure.
A useless person who can't even protect the people around him.
The night breeze blew by, lifting the stray hairs at his temples.
Under the moonlight, the dark figure gradually walked away and eventually disappeared into the deep night.
Lonely, resolute, burdened with mountains of hatred and pain.
Inside the sleeping quarters of Huaqing Palace, the candles had long since been extinguished.
Inside the red tent, all was silent.
Inside the bedchamber, candlelight flickered, casting long shadows on the thick carpet.
The scent of ambergris permeated the air, sweet and luxurious, almost suffocating. The large rosewood canopy bed was shrouded in layers of dark red curtains, and the hanging gold tassels gleamed faintly in the candlelight, like congealed drops of blood.
Several pieces of clothing were scattered on the rosewood footstool beside the bed.
A black robe with twelve imperial symbols was carelessly tossed there. The five-clawed golden dragon embroidered with gold thread was half-lit and half-shadowed in the candlelight. The dragon's head was ferocious and its body was coiled, symbolizing the supreme imperial power. But at this moment, it was like a discarded rag.
She wore a deep purple palace dress with a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix. The magnificent brocade was crumpled into a ball, and a few pearls that were inlaid at the collar had fallen off and rolled onto the edge of the footstool, gleaming with a broken, cold light in the candlelight.
A rose-red imperial concubine's palace dress, slightly lighter in color and simpler in style than the deep purple one, was also carelessly discarded, the begonia flower pattern embroidered on the skirt completely crumpled up.
These three garments, like three stripped souls, lay there silently, recounting the long and humiliating ritual that had just taken place.
Inside the canopy bed, the brocade curtains hung low.
Qin Mu leaned against a pile of bright yellow brocade pillows, wearing only a moon-white silk nightgown with the collar slightly open, revealing his well-defined collarbone and a small patch of his muscular chest. His long, black hair, unbound, cascaded freely over his shoulders, with a few stray strands clinging to his forehead, adding to his languid and carefree air.
He propped his chin up with one hand, while the other hand rested casually on his bent knee, his fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the smooth brocade quilt.
Those eyes, always so deep and unfathomable, were now half-closed, long eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath them. A half-smile played at the corners of his lips, as if he had just enjoyed a delicious feast and was savoring the aftertaste.
His gaze slowly swept over his side.
On the left, Xu Fenghua lay quietly.
She was covered with a brocade quilt, only revealing her shoulders and above. The neckline of her deep purple nightgown was slightly open, revealing a small patch of snow-white skin and delicate collarbone, on which a few faint red marks were faintly visible, particularly striking in the candlelight.
Her long hair was scattered messily on the pillow, like splashed ink. Her usually calm, composed, and dignified face was now pale to the point of being transparent. Her eyelids were tightly closed, and her long eyelashes cast heavy shadows beneath her eyes, trembling slightly.
Her lips were pressed tightly together, so pale that they were almost bloodless. Only a faint bite mark was visible at the corner of her mouth, and the blood that had seeped out had already congealed into a small dark red dot.
Her breathing was light and shallow, as if she were deliberately suppressing it, afraid of disturbing something. But if you listened carefully, you could hear a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor in her breathing.
On the right, Jiang Qingxue was curled up in the corner of the bed.
She wrapped herself completely in the brocade quilt, revealing only her face. The collar of her rose-red nightgown was tightly closed, the ties meticulously fastened, as if to prevent any possible contact.
Her face was buried in the pillow, her long, black hair was scattered messily, covering most of her face, only a small section of her pale, almost transparent chin and her slightly trembling eyelashes could be seen.
Her shoulders trembled slightly beneath the quilt, as if she were weeping silently, yet she forced herself to suppress it, afraid to make a sound. The knuckles of her fingers, gripping the corner of the quilt, turned white, and her nails dug deeply into her palms, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks.
The entire bedchamber was deathly silent.
The only sounds were the occasional crackling of the candle flame and the three people's breathing, which was sometimes steady, sometimes suppressed, and sometimes trembling.
An eerie atmosphere permeated the air—the cloying sweetness after lust, the chilling aftermath of humiliation, and the hatred quietly growing deep within despair.
I don't know how much time passed.
Qin Mu slowly opened his eyes, the smile on his lips deepening.
He reached out and gently brushed his fingertips across the surface.
Xu Fenghua's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, her eyelashes trembled even more violently, but she still did not open her eyes.
Qin Mu smiled, withdrew his hand, and turned to Jiang Qingxue.
He reached out and gently brushed aside the long hair that covered her face, revealing her pale, haggard face streaked with tears.
Jiang Qingxue suddenly opened her eyes, her eyes filled with terror. She instinctively tried to dodge, but found that she had nowhere to hide.
"Why are you crying, my beloved?" Qin Mu's voice was gentle, tinged with a lazy concern. "Are you feeling unwell?"
Jiang Qingxue bit her lip tightly, shook her head, and said in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, "No, no... I'm just... just too happy..."
She spoke with difficulty, each word seeming to be forced out of her throat.
Qin Mu looked at her quietly for a long time before letting out a soft sigh.
"As long as you're happy." He withdrew his hand, leaned back on the soft pillow, and said calmly, "From now on, you two are sisters."
He paused, a meaningful smile playing at the corners of his lips:
"We should get along well and look after each other. After all... in this deep palace, we can only rely on each other."
The moment the words left her lips, Xu Fenghua finally slowly opened her eyes.
Those amber eyes, which were always clear, sharp, and sparkling with wisdom, were now as empty as two dry wells, with only a cold, lifeless silence in their depths.
Her gaze slowly shifted to Jiang Qingxue, who was curled up in the corner of the bed.
Looking at that familiar yet unfamiliar face, and those eyes that were always calm and collected but were now filled with terror and pain, Xu Fenghua felt an extremely complex emotion welling up inside her.
absurd.
This is the most extreme absurdity in the world.
The woman before her, the girl she once regarded as her future sister-in-law, the girl who would gently teach her embroidery and tell her stories of Jiangnan in the Listening Snow Pavilion in the Northern Border, the woman her younger brother Xu Longxiang longed for and vowed to marry...
Now, she lies on the same dragon bed that symbolizes endless humiliation, just like her, as a concubine of the same man.
She became her... "sister".
How ironic.
How absurd.