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Frosty Winds and Silent Crows
墨書 Inktalez
Emperor Qingchen would probably never forget that day.
On that day, he encountered Su Yuan at the market in Langya.
At that time, she was surrounded by a group of maidservants, her petite and frail body shrinking into the crevices of the bluestone pavement. She allowed the sharp stones to cut into her ankles, drawing blood, yet she remained silent, covering her head and enduring the insults alone.
Later, without asking for the reason, he stepped in to save her. When she looked up at him, he forgot to breathe.
Amidst the bustling crowd, a single glance was enough to stir his heart; she was indeed beautiful.
But it was somewhat strange for a woman nearing a hundred years old to still possess such beauty.
She said, "I lost my parents when I was eighteen, and since then my appearance has not aged. In five months, I will celebrate my hundredth birthday."
At that moment, the High Priest leaned close to his ear and exclaimed in shock, "Your Majesty, there have been frequent unusual occurrences at the Wu Family Ancestral Hall's Star of Heaven recently. Moreover, our Shunliu Path in Langya has nearly dried up in recent years. All these celestial signs indicate that an Evil Star has emerged in Langya."
Since Qingchen ascended to the throne, the waters of Shunliu Path had shown signs of disturbance and had been steadily declining.
In the past two years, there had been no rain. Although Langya's ancestors had ensured bountiful harvests, relying on past glories could only last for three to five years.
"Your Majesty, this enchantress is undoubtedly the Evil Star!"
Could it be her? Qingchen closed his eyes briefly and then retracted his hand that was about to reach out to her.
It seemed like mockery when suddenly, thunder roared across the sky of Langya.
Su Yuan trembled and was taken away to the Imperial Prison.
That night, under the desolate moonlight, she had a dream. When she woke up, her tears had soaked the grass mat...
"Su Yuan, I am the king of Langya. I must consider the lives of the people of Langya. Today, sacrificing you to the Gods is my failure."
At the peak of Yunxia Mountain in Langya, one could witness the magnificent sunrises and sunsets.
An old mulberry tree stood strong, with three sacrificial offerings placed beneath it.
Qingchen furrowed his brows slightly, showing signs of fatigue.
He lifted his outer robe against the wind and knelt down before Su Yuan in front of the Common People and the Sun God.
"Su Yuan, I am sorry."
How great was the helplessness of a mighty emperor? How much did he care for his subjects that he would kneel before a commoner like her without regard for dignity?
Su Yuan thought to herself that he must be a wise ruler who loved his people as his own children.
The High Priest glanced at the sky; it was precisely noon, the best time for auspicious events, and the moment had arrived.
He shouted, "Beat the drums, sound the alarms!"
Boom...
In an instant, the sky changed color, dark clouds loomed overhead, and sunlight scattered.
As the drumbeats echoed, the dagger in Qingchen's hand fell to the ground, and the ropes binding Su Yuan loosened.
Suddenly, the scene on Yunxia Mountain was filled with tumultuous changes.
Flashes raced through Su Yuan's mind. She couldn't think too much; she got up and ran to the Sun Copper Drum, pressing her entire body against it. The drum, which had been roaring like a frenzied beast, finally calmed down.
The crowd collapsed to the ground, still in shock.
Qingchen locked eyes with the High Priest. The secrets of Langya revealed that only a noble of Langya could control the Sun Copper Drum.
He finally smiled with relief. "Su Yuan, this is fate. From now on, be a good guest of Langya, alright?"
The green leaves of the old mulberry tree on Yunxia Mountain exuded a strong and refreshing fragrance, carried by the winds from all directions and wafting before Su Yuan.
She looked at Qingchen, his hair tied high, his brows clear and gentle. Behind him reflected the towering mountains, like a single warm light shining in her heart after a hundred years.
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