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Boundless Rivers and Mountains After Parting — Part 2


After more than ten years of longing, this day had finally come, the day when he could reach out and draw her into his arms.

Several times he had come south, disguised as a commoner despite his royal status, sneaking alone into enemy territory, braving countless dangers, all just to see her one more time.

But then, clear as day, he heard her say,
“As the Queen of Southern Tang, I humbly beseech the Emperor of the Song Dynasty…”

She knelt down in formal salute.

And all he could do was retreat, step by step, retreating further and further. After more than ten years of a heart burning with longing, upon seeing her again, all she asked of him was to spare her country, her people, her husband...

There would never be another man who loved her as deeply as he did. Not even her Li Yu.

Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw him finally agree, only because she had asked him.

He gave up half the empire to her with open hands.

Oh, how foolish, how utterly foolish—just because she asked, he gave her everything.

True heartbreak came in the moment when he faced Li Yu in battle, sword to sword.

She rushed to the battlefield in terror, throwing herself between them and into Li Yu’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

More than ten years of obsession shattered in that moment, crumbling into dust.

Heartbroken beyond words, he turned and left.

He had met her first. He had been the one forced to let go. He had been the one she first loved.

After more than ten years of devotion, it all ended in heartache, and he left.

That embroidered handkerchief, his constant companion, stayed by his side like a precious treasure.

Late at night, while reviewing official documents, a sudden gust of wind blew the handkerchief away, sending it flying into the rain.

He rushed out of the palace, into the downpour. The rain fell in torrents, lightning flashed and thunder roared, and in that moment, he realized with a heart as clear as a mirror—it was Ehuang, his Ehuang.

The rain drenched him as he stood there like a fool, the water pouring down his face like tears.

The night was dark as pitch, and the wind and rain raged like madness.

“Ehuang…”

The envoy from Southern Tang knelt before him, delivering the news of her death in formal, polished phrases. No one knew that each word was like an arrow piercing his heart.

“Ehuang…”

Behind the heavy curtains, with all the officials kneeling in respect, no one could see the tears in his eyes.

What use was it to rule over tens of thousands?

“Ehuang begged the Emperor of the Song Dynasty, ‘The Song is strong, and Jiangnan is weak. I ask you to show compassion for the people of Jiangnan. When you one day unify the land, do not bring war upon Jiangnan.’”

Her voice, faint as a fragrance of orchids, drifted away like a cloud.

All he could do was retreat, stumbling backward.

After more than ten years, his longing had turned into arrows of blood, each one piercing his heart, unbearable in its pain.

In the end, he destroyed the Li Tang dynasty.

On the wall, a silk painting depicted her flowing robes. His heart, like a cocoon, was wrapped in countless threads. He could only seek solace in brushstrokes, in art.

Late at night, he summoned Empress Xiao Zhou, terrifying Li Yu, frightening the entire Southern Tang court, who thought she would be humiliated.

But they underestimated Zhao Kuangyin. They underestimated how much he cherished Ehuang.

When Empress Xiao Zhou entered the palace, all he asked was:
“Your sister, in the old days in the Tang palace—did she live in peace and joy?”

Every little word, every little phrase, anything he could hear about her from the mouth of another—it was enough.

Love arises without warning and runs deep once it begins.

Once, someone raised a cup and drank alone, tears brimming, and said:
“My life is nothing but the life of a heartbroken man.”

In this life, until its very end, he would be a figure of endless sorrow throughout the ages.

The rain poured down in torrents, soaking the handkerchief, as if soaking his heart.

And as this life came to an end, the spring was fading, and he stood alone, no longer leaning against the railing.

Boundless rivers and mountains after parting.  

[The End]

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