A Shocking Dream

Chapter 161

Upon hearing this, Qin Rongchen bowed, his waist bent into a neat arc, his hands clasped at his eyebrows, and he said in a loud voice: "I'll take my leave." His voice was clear, causing a subtle echo in the silent space. Then, he stood up, his steps steady and orderly, each step seemed to measure the distance to the core of the power struggle. The soles of his shoes tapped lightly on the golden brick floor, making a dull sound, and he walked towards the door of the imperial study.

The moment he stepped over the threshold, sunlight suddenly poured down, enveloping him like a veil of pale gold. Qin Rongchen squinted slightly, adjusting to the sudden brightness. The long corridor wound, its vermilion pillars reflecting the sunlight on either side, as if bathed in blood, bearing witness to the palace's undercurrents and the waxing and waning of the moon, year after year, morning after morning. He walked slowly along the corridor, his clothes fluttering in the breeze, his thoughts drifting back to the plague-ridden Linzhou, to Lin Wunian's weary eyes. Fortunately, the matter was now resolved. Although Lin Wunian refused to go to the capital to claim his reward, he could return home to resume a peaceful life.

"Your Highness, please wait." A gentle voice called out from behind, interrupting his thoughts. Qin Rongchen turned around and saw that it was the eunuch serving in the imperial court who hurried over, holding an exquisite brocade box in his hands. He was panting. When he came closer, he bowed and said with a flattering smile, "Your Highness, His Majesty, in consideration of your hard work, has specially gifted you this box of thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum. He has instructed me to tell you to take good care of yourself."

Qin Rongchen was startled. He took the brocade box and felt it was warm to the touch. The carvings on the box were exquisite and complicated, showing the royal style. He bowed and expressed his gratitude: "Thank you for your kindness, eunuch. Please thank Your Majesty on my behalf. I will do my best to live up to Your Majesty's expectations." The young eunuch nodded repeatedly, exchanged a few words of greeting, then turned around and trotted back to the imperial study to report.

Qin Rongchen continued to move forward, and when he turned out of the corridor and entered the palace road, he saw a few wild flowers at the foot of the palace wall. They bloomed tenaciously in the breeze, and the pale purple petals trembled slightly, just like the weak but tenacious will to survive of the people of Linzhou when the plague was rampant.

Arriving at the palace gate, he mounted his horse, whipped it, and with the clatter of hooves, he galloped towards his residence, breaking through the clamor of the capital's streets. Along the way, the hustle and bustle of the market filled him, the cries of hawkers and the sounds of children playing intertwined, revealing the vibrant life of ordinary days. Contrasting this with the dire situation in Linzhou, it only made him realize the importance of national stability.

Hanmei Villa, once a magnificent sight, now resembles a faded painting, shrouded in desolation and loneliness. Qin Rongchen rode his horse slowly to the villa gate, gazing at the familiar yet unfamiliar vermilion lacquer plaque. The four characters "Hanmei Villa" were inscribed there with iron and silver strokes. Once, he had personally inscribed them with great hope and deep affection. Now, eroded by time and weathered by frost, the lacquer was mottled, as if reflecting the tattered state of their relationship. A wave of astonishment and mixed emotions welled up in his heart.

He dismounted and stepped into the manor. In the courtyard, several old plum trees still had rugged branches. In the past winters, the trees were full of flowers like snow, with a faint fragrance floating in the air. Wild weeds grew in the cracks of the stone road. The path that was once carefully maintained was now sparsely populated. Qin Rongchen's boot heels stepped on it, making a slight "rustling" sound that echoed in the quiet manor, adding a bit of melancholy.

The pavilions and terraces within the manor still stood, their eaves and corners arching, but the doors and windows were closed, their lacquer peeling, like silent, mournful eyes, observing the passage of time. Qin Rongchen raised his hand and pushed open the carved door that he had gently opened for Lin Bingshuang countless times. A creaking sound, like the sigh of time, filled the room with dust and cobwebs. The exquisite furnishings, the delicate jades, and the embroidered curtains of the past were now sealed in a dark corner, their former splendor gone.

He spent a huge amount of money, gathered skilled craftsmen, and spent several years to build the Hanmei Villa in this quiet place with beautiful mountains and rivers. The scenery of each season is carefully planned, especially the plum forest in winter. He hopes to be able to accompany her here year after year, enjoying the plum blossoms, the moon, and the rest of their lives.

But things are unpredictable. After the battle of Linzhou, Lin Bingshuang chose to remain anonymous, unwilling to recognize him again. The deep affection and friendship of the past seemed like a dream, and upon waking, only melancholy remained. Qin Rongchen walked to the window, opened it, and looked out at the plum grove in the courtyard. He seemed to see her dancing gracefully under the plum trees, her clothes fluttering, her long black hair flying. But the cold wind blew away the illusion, leaving only the swaying branches.

Just as he was feeling down, slow, slightly heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor in the corner of the courtyard. Looking up, Qin Rongchen saw Uncle Chen stumbling towards him, his body hunched over. Time had carved deep marks on Uncle Chen's body. His back bent downward like a frost-bitten vine, his face crisscrossed with wrinkles, like a dry riverbed, filled with stories and vicissitudes. Uncle Chen had once been the most enthusiastic figure in the villa, running around and serving everyone. Now, worn down by time, he had become so languid and worn down. Qin Rongchen's heart tightened, and a bitterness suddenly rose in his throat, threatening to burst out.

He hurried forward, his hands firmly supporting Uncle Chen. His movements were filled with a touch of urgency and tenderness, as if he were holding onto the last pillar of support for this villa and past memories. Suppressing the bitterness surging in his heart, Qin Rongchen forced a gentle smile into his lips. His voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, brushing past his ears with warmth and warmth: "Uncle Chen, you've worked so hard to guard this villa all these days."

A glimmer of light flashed in Uncle Chen's cloudy eyes. It was the joy of seeing an old friend, and also the touching feeling of being recognized and cared for. His lips trembled slightly, and he wanted to say something, but because of the emotional agitation, only a few hoarse sobs came out of his throat. After a while, he regained his composure and raised his hand to wipe the corners of his eyes. The veins on the wrinkled back of his hand bulged like ropes of time. "Your Highness, you are finally back!" Uncle Chen's voice was a little tearful, but also full of relief as if he had survived a disaster. "It's not hard for this old servant. This villa is our roots. Guarding it is like guarding the old days. I hope that you and Miss Lin can come back again..."

Qin Rongchen felt that Uncle Chen's words, filled with vicissitudes and helplessness, were like sharp arrows, piercing the softest part of his heart. His heart felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer, and every detail of his past with Lin Bingshuang spun rapidly through his mind like a revolving lantern.

He recalled the first winter after the villa was built. The plum grove resembled a vast sea, its pink and white petals rustling in the chill wind, a dreamlike snowscape. He imagined them setting up a warm stove deep in the grove, simmering fine wine, the aroma of wine blending with the fragrance of plum blossoms, lingering in the icy air. Lin Bingshuang's cheeks, flushed by the fire and the wine, rose and danced gracefully, her figure ethereal, the silk ribbons in her hands fluttering as she seemed to capture the romance of the entire winter. He watched, mesmerized, his heart filled with longing, wishing that time would stand still, granting them a life of eternal peace.

On a hot summer day, on the pavilion, she used a lotus leaf as a cup, filled it with dew and handed it to him, saying with a smile that it was a good remedy for the heat. The crystal dew rolled in the lotus leaf, reflecting her innocent face. Every drop seemed to hide her delicate love for life and for him, which made him happy, and the hot summer turned into coolness in his heart.