Chapter 228 (1/2)
Chapter 228
Translator: Nyoi-Bo StudioEditor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
”I knew that he would rebel”
Li Ce talked by himself. Chu Qiao did not reply. She knew that at this moment he did not need any replies, and only wanted her to listen on quietly. ”I waited for him many years, and I held onto the hope that he would decide not to rebel in the end.”
Smiling in self-mockery, Li Ce downed a cup of wine, before looking at Chu Qiao. ”Did you know? Since young, Li Luo was not as smart as me. He was inferior to me both in terms of strategic planning and military strategy. The only thing he was better at than me was poetry. He said that when he grew up, he wanted to become a scholar whose name would be recognized all over the world, and would find a scenic spot to open a school. He dreamed to pen a book about the entire West Meng Continent.”
Frowning, Li Ce was illuminated by the moonlight that poured into the room through the curtains. Quietly he continued, ”Little did he know, the moment I became the crown prince, I already started to create a library at Anqing for him. Yet, due to Fu'er's death, I lost the opportunity to tell him about it.” His brows suddenly furrowed together, and in the tone of his voice, one could hear immense hatred. He squeezed out the following words, ”Why must he rebel?”
The wine cup broke into two. The sharp jade piece pierced into his palm, and the crimson red blood spurted out looking like crabapple blossoms. Chu Qiao suddenly remembered how years ago, in this precise palace, with the backdrop of sycamore trees, a man wearing green was standing there peacefully and gently. He introduced himself, ”I am King Luo.”
At that moment, in the dust-covered corner of one's memory, time had reversed, as three young kids ran in this quiet and big palace. Their laughter was like the summer breeze, shattering the thick fog that covered this forbidden palace, and chasing away the darkness of politics in the palace…
”Fu'er, didn't we agree that today you would be my wife? Yesterday, and the day before, it was always him. Today, it is my turn.”
”I don't want to!”
”Why? You must keep your promise!”
”I don't want to!”
”Hmph! I will tell my father, and marry you now!”
”I don't want to! I don't want to!”
”Ah! You! How can you bite others!”
”Enough, the two of you should stop making a fuss. You should head to the study room for lessons.”
”Brother Luo, the Crown Prince bullied me.”
”What brother? You should address him as the Uncle! Uncle, Fu'er is sick and was biting other people. I am going to look for a doctor, and cannot go for lessons today.”
….
In the darkness of the night, the glory of the past faded into the deep creases of one's memories, leaving behind only a soft afterglow. In the cold rays of the moonlight, even with the sweltering heat of summer, one would get goosebumps as chills headed up through the spine, offering relief from the uncomfortable heat.
Li Ce had drunk too much, and his frail figure shakily walked out of the main door of the Mihe residence, slowly disappearing into the background of sycamore trees and moonlight. Standing by the window, Chu Qiao looked on at him leaving, with only emptiness in her heart, feeling like an icy lake that had been cracked open. When it came to the struggle for power, history had always been so cruel. If the other party did not die, one would never be at ease. It was akin to the relation between Yan Bei and the Xia empire; it was impossible to reconcile.
She suddenly thought about Yan Xun, and was reminded of how she felt when he killed Mister Wu and the others. Perhaps the circumstances were different, but ultimately, both conflicts arose out of a struggle for power. If Li Ce felt sad about King Luo's death, would Yan Xun feel regret over his actions that day?
The roar of despair that Huanhuan gave before her death blended in with the death cries of the Xishuo Army. The piercing sound wreaked havoc in her mind. As the skyscraper of power was constructed, ultimately only one would reach its pinnacle. Before that happened, thousands upon thousands would fall, becoming the stepping stones to that person's ascension.
Beside the desk, there were a few droplets of clear liquid that did not give off any aroma of alcohol. It sparkled in the moon rays.
”There was a wind bell that had been covered by the sand and dust. If you are free, lady, you can request for the servants to clean it up. In the autumn wind, the bell sounds crisp and melodic,” a calm voice echoed at the back of her head.
Chu Qiao walked over and stretched out her hand to touch the bell, only to hear a whoosh as the line that held the bell up snapped, and the ornament fell into the pond below, creating a splash, followed by waves of ripples.