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Weariness of Spring Flowers — Chapter 2.5


"You're right, Steward," Mei Lin responded without a hint of anger, lowering her gaze and pausing her actions. Her temper had long been worn down during her time in the dark factory, and Qing Yan's attitude couldn’t stir any emotion within her.

Seeing her response, Qing Yan muttered a few more words before losing interest and falling silent.

Mei Lin resumed eating, carefully and quietly, but at a steady pace. In just a short while, she had finished the entire plate of roast meat.

When Qing Yan saw the empty plate, his mouth fell open in shock, unable to close for a long moment.

"How long has it been since you last ate?" he asked, his expression shifting through various emotions before he finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity. Despite the meat being cold, he had brought enough to last for two meals, never expecting her to finish it all.

"One day," Mei Lin replied with a slight smile, offering no further explanation. Then she asked, "Steward, could you please tell me where I should take this plate?"

Qing Yan seemed to appreciate her respectful demeanor and didn’t make things difficult for her. He waved his hand dismissively. "Just leave it there. Someone will come to collect it tomorrow." He paused, then looked her up and down, frowning. "How do you expect to serve the prince looking like that?" With that, he turned and left the tent.

Mei Lin stood in place, momentarily stunned. She looked down at herself and realized that after a day spent in the forest, her white clothes were wrinkled and stained with sap from leaves and wildflowers, creating a messy mix of yellow and green. The thought of Murong Jing He holding her in such a state without any sign of disgust made her feel oddly perplexed. She also realized the true meaning behind his comment about the floral scent on her.

While she was lost in thought, Qing Yan returned, accompanied by two men dressed as imperial guards. One carried a large wooden tub, and the other brought two buckets of hot water.

After directing the men to place the tub down and pour in the water, Qing Yan laid out clean clothes, towels, and soap. "Clean yourself up. We don’t want anyone saying that people from the Jingbei Prince’s household don’t know proper etiquette and look like dirty beggars," he instructed.

Before Mei Lin could respond, he added, "Leave the water there after you’re done. You can stay here for the night, and I’ll have a tent set up for you tomorrow." With that, he left the tent and did not return.

The water in the tub was steaming lightly, with golden-yellow flower petals floating on the surface, their fragrance filling the tent. It was inviting.

Mei Lin stood there for a while, ensuring no one else would enter, before slowly undressing and stepping into the water.

As she sat down, the water rose around her, just covering her chest. The warmth soothed her aching muscles, and she couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the tub to fully relax.

"Qing Yan may have a sharp tongue, but he’s quite thoughtful," Mei Lin thought to herself. Whether he was acting out of respect for Murong Jing He or simply fulfilling his duties, it didn’t matter; she felt grateful nonetheless.

After soaking for a while, as her fatigue began to fade, Mei Lin reached up to remove her hairpin, letting her long hair fall loose. She took a deep breath and slid down into the water until it covered her head, allowing her mind to clear.

She recalled Murong Jing He occasionally referring to himself as "this prince." At first, she thought it was a slip of the tongue, but now she realized he had actually been granted the title of prince. For a prince to be given a title, it was either due to significant achievements or as a form of exile. Regardless of the reason, it was clear that the old emperor’s throne was not in Murong Jing He’s future.

Jingbei... that place...

As she ran out of breath, Mei Lin surfaced with a splash, pushing the wet hair and droplets from her face. Her eyes shone brightly in the candlelight.

That place... it was where she had come from.

She remembered that year, squeezed into a jostling carriage with other children, watching the green mountains recede into the distance and the white blossoms swaying in the mist, feeling lost and anxious about the unknown destination. At the start of that journey, she overheard passersby frequently mentioning Jingbei.

Perhaps Murong Jing He would take them back to Jingbei. The thought excited Mei Lin, sparking a hope within her that even she couldn’t fully understand.

But this hope didn’t last long. From the next day until the hunt ended, she didn’t see Murong Jing He again, as if she had been completely forgotten.

In stark contrast, Adai, who had finally submitted to reality, remained in Murong Jing He’s main tent, enjoying his favor. As a result, Qing Yan often looked at Mei Lin with a hint of pity in his eyes.

What finally shattered her hopes was learning that after the hunt, Murong Jing He didn’t return to Jingbei but instead followed the emperor back to the capital. It was only then that she realized he had always resided in Zhao Jing. As for Jingbei, it was likely just a nominal fief.

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