Deep into the night, the forest clearing was dotted with soldiers dozing off in small clusters, their forms huddled like dark stones around dying embers. Xia Jingshi had been conversing with the Brocade officers who had stayed behind as guards, their low voices a distant murmur against the chirping of night insects. Feng Xiyang lingered nearby for a while, clutching a felt blanket to her chest like armor, her gaze fixed on her husband's distant silhouette before finally returning dejectedly to the campfire.
"Xiyang, come sit here," Feng Suige, seated beside Yixiao, beckoned with a gentle smile, motioning for her to join them. "It must be exhausting since you've never marched with an army before."
Feng Xiyang nodded wordlessly, carefully spreading the blanket before settling down with the cautious movements of someone afraid of taking up too much space.
For a moment, the three of them sat in silence, only the crackling of the fire and the whisper of wind through pine branches breaking the quiet.
After a while, Yixiao stood up and stretched with feline grace. "We still have a bit of time to rest. I'm going to lean against something over there. You two talk."
Feng Suige gave a hum of acknowledgment and rose to take off his cloak, offering it to her with husbandly concern. Yixiao didn't reach for it, instead subtly gesturing toward Xiyang with her eyes—a silent plea he understood immediately. Feng Suige paused in surprise, but Yixiao had already stuck out her tongue playfully and scampered away like a mischievous fox, leaving him no choice. He turned to Xiyang with resignation. "Xiyang, are you cold? This cloak—"
"Does Your Highness think I'll take whatever she doesn't want?" Xiyang retorted without turning around, her eyes brimming with tears that caught the firelight. "In Your Highness's eyes, Xiyang must be that kind of person, right?"
Feng Suige sighed helplessly, recognizing the familiar spiral of her thoughts. "Xiyang, must you be so harsh?"
Feng Xiyang remained silent for a long time before murmuring through quiet sobs, "Your Highness, am I truly so detestable?"
Feng Suige wrapped the cloak carefully around her shoulders and pulled her close, comforting her softly as one might soothe a wounded child. "Of course not. You're still unwell, and your emotions are just unstable. Once we settle down and you rest properly, you'll feel better."
"I don't know… I don't understand…" Xiyang buried her face in Feng Suige's lap, tears falling one by one, soaking his clothes with the weight of her misery. "I've tried so hard to please him, but the harder I try, the more distant he becomes… Why did everyone used to love me, but now…"
Feng Suige was silent for a moment, watching the flames dance, before suddenly asking, "I once asked you why you loved him. Do you remember how you answered?"
Xiyang choked back a sob. "Of course I remember. I said… because he's Xia Jingshi."
"And now?" Feng Suige patted her shoulder gently. "Is he no longer Xia Jingshi now?"
Xiyang stopped crying abruptly, slowly sitting up to stare blankly at the flickering flames, as if seeing something there she'd never noticed before.
Feng Suige leaned forward to toss a few branches into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks that briefly illuminated their faces, before turning back to her. "Xiyang, let me ask you this—do you truly love Xia Jingshi?"
Xiyang sat silently for a while before answering woodenly, "Of course. If I didn't love him, why would I have married him?"
Feng Suige shook his head with infinite patience. "That's not what I mean. Do you understand him?"
Xiyang hesitated, first nodding, then shaking her head, before hastily defending herself with the desperation of someone grasping at straws, "What does it matter if I don't? Didn't Your Highness also not understand Fu Yixiao at first? Yet you're still together now, aren't you?"
"True, I didn't understand her at first. But people are different." At the mention of Yixiao, Feng Suige's expression softened like ice melting in spring, his entire countenance warming. "She's simpler and more straightforward than Xia Jingshi. When you're with her, you can clearly see her joys and sorrows. If you treat her poorly, she'll return it in kind. If you treat her well, she'll accept it and do her best to repay you…"
Meeting Feng Xiyang's slightly annoyed gaze—the look of someone tired of hearing another woman praised—Feng Suige offered an apologetic smile and steered the conversation back to Xia Jingshi. "Xia Jingshi is perhaps the most inscrutable person I've ever met. A man like him won't readily open his heart to you without years of companionship and understanding. He's like a fortress with walls built so high, you can't see what lies within unless he chooses to lower the gate."
"What Fu Yixiao can do, I can do too!" Feng Xiyang couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice, fierce determination warring with desperation. "I'm not greedy—I just want to stay by his side, to hear him speak... or even if he doesn't speak, just being with him would make me happy..."
"Xiyang," Feng Suige sighed, and there was genuine sorrow in his voice, "you can't. If you could, you wouldn't compare yourself to Yixiao, nor would you dislike her so much. Back in Su Sha, you were quite fond of her, weren't you?"
A night breeze swept by, carrying with it the scent of pine and distant smoke. Feng Xiyang shivered. She instinctively tightened the cloak around her and buried half her face in its warm folds, her voice muffled when she spoke. "I admit I'm jealous. I don't want to be... but his life is filled with traces of Fu Yixiao everywhere. No matter what I do, I can't erase her presence! She's in every corner of his past, every habit he keeps, every expression that crosses his face when he thinks no one is watching..."
"That's exactly why I said you don't understand him," Feng Suige said with pity in his voice, reaching out to tuck the windblown strands of her hair behind her ear with brotherly tenderness. "Though I don't understand why he pushed Yixiao out of his life with his own hands, I know he cherishes her more than anything. If I were you, I wouldn't think about how to drive Yixiao away. Instead, I'd consider how to coexist with her."
"Is that what you did, brother?" Xiyang asked faintly, as if snapping out of a daze, her voice barely above a whisper. "When Fu Yixiao was pining for her husband, weren't you jealous or angry at all?"
"How could I not be?" Feng Suige chuckled softly, the sound rueful and self-aware. "Of course it bothered me. But then I thought—no matter what, in the end, she chose me between the two of us. That thought alone put my heart at ease."
"Brother," Feng Xiyang called out quietly.
Feng Suige turned to her, only to be met with her resentful glare, her eyes blazing with hurt and fury. "You won, so you can sit here smugly flaunting your victory to me... You think I deserve this, don't you? That I brought this upon myself? All you care about is how to justify Fu Yixiao's actions. You don't understand my pain at all!!!"
After venting her outburst, Feng Xiyang stood up and stumbled toward the woods, blind with tears and rage. She hadn't run far before tripping over an exposed root and falling heavily to the ground. Struggling to sit up, the pain in her limbs and the overwhelming bitterness in her heart surged forth like a dam breaking. She could no longer hold back her sobs, uncaring if she woke anyone nearby, her cries raw and broken in the night air.
After only a few cries, her wrist was abruptly seized in a rough grip. Before she could react, she was yanked forcefully to her feet, startling her into silence.
It was Yixiao.
Frowning, Yixiao brushed the dirt and pine needles off her clothes with brisk, efficient movements and scolded lightly, "Stand up properly! Rolling on the ground and throwing a tantrum in front of everyone—what kind of behavior is that for the dignified King Who Pacifies the South's consort?"
Without waiting for Xiyang's response, Fu Yixiao straightened up, grabbed her arm with a grip that brooked no argument, and strode toward the woods without looking back, pulling the stunned princess along like a recalcitrant child.
"Yixiao," Feng Suige called out worriedly, catching up to them in a few swift strides. "What are you two doing?"
Yixiao didn't answer, her jaw set with determination.
Feng Suige stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Xia Jingshi, who was watching him with quiet concern from across the clearing, his expression unreadable in the shadows. Seeing Feng Suige turn back, Xia Jingshi slowly raised his right hand, made a fist, and lightly tapped his left chest—once, twice.
After a brief hesitation, Feng Suige nodded and sat back down by the campfire, trusting in what that gesture meant.
He understood what Xia Jingshi meant.
Trust me. Trust her. Let them handle this.
The flames continued to dance, indifferent to human drama, as Yixiao disappeared into the trees with Xiyang in tow.
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