The Slender Waist-Chapter 77 - 63 The Beauty Under the Lamp

The lights weren’t very bright, casting a blurred glow on the young woman’s face.

There was truth to the saying "Beauty under the light," the more you look, the more your heart flutters—likely as such.

When Pei Jue spoke again, his throat seemed a bit tight.

"Send her back to Central Capital. Or, just kill her."

His tone was calm, as if killing a chicken was no different.

Feng Yun understood that Pei Jue could indeed make Wei Zheng disappear without a trace, but no matter how Wei Zheng died, as long as it was in Huaxi Village, in Andu County, Pei Jue would be suspected of murdering an important official of the Imperial Court and would be severely criticized.

Sometimes, reputation matters more than life itself.

Pei Jue might not care, but Feng Yun, currently tied to his strings like a grasshopper, preferred that the string be strong, capable of hanging on for longer without breaking midway.

Where would she find such a thick and durable string again if her current foundation was unstable?

Better to use it sparingly.

With that thought, Feng Yun couldn’t help but smile.

"I venture to suggest that there’s no need for such drastic measures—"

Pei Jue frowned and looked at her.

Feng Yun felt that discussing important matters from such a distance was inconvenient, and it didn’t feel like a discussion between a general and his strategist.

So she put down the book in her hand, stepped in her wooden clogs out of the misty light, walked to the opposite side of Pei Jue, and knelt down, straightening her back.

"Enemies should be resolved rather than be left to fester. General Wei is the Empress Dowager’s favorite; offending him brings no good. Better to turn hostility into alliance."

Pei Jue looked up again, his eyes especially deep as he gazed at her.

Their eyes met for a long time, and Feng Yun couldn’t grasp what emotions lay hidden in his eyes; she simply gave up guessing and spoke indifferently.

"It’s better to provoke a nobleman than to wrong the humble. You might not be afraid in the camp, but I am."

With the word "afraid," she bowed her head, deliberately sounding anxious, fearful that Pei Jue could see she had other plans.

But it seemed Pei Jue took her seriously.

He said, "As you wish."

Feng Yun relaxed her guard and bowed slightly to him, "Thank you, General."

Pei Jue swept a glance over her, observing her graceful and beautiful face without a word.

Feng Yun leaned slightly forward and filled a cup of tea for him, "Regarding the event at the start of autumn, I didn’t foresee accurately, I thought you would no longer trust me... "

She lifted her eyelids and looked at him with a smile.

"I even thought you might suspect that I’m a spy left behind by Nanqi."

"Aren’t you?" Pei Jue’s dark pupils slightly fell, he didn’t look at Feng Yun’s face, picked up the tea cup, and downed it in one gulp.

Feng Yun watched his prominent Adam’s apple as he drank his tea, and thinking about what Xiaoman had said during the day, she sighed softly, "Of course not."

Pei Jue: "You’d better not be."

This meaningless conversation.

Paired with Pei Jue’s brooding, unfeeling face, it oddly fit the situation.

Feng Yun was in good spirits.

"If I were a spy, General, you wouldn’t be sitting here chatting with me tonight. You should know my heart is with you. From the day I was abandoned by my family, it has been so..."

Pei Jue quietly watched her.

Suddenly, he said, "Do you want to take revenge on the Feng Family? On Xiao Cheng?"

There was a hint of probing in his words.

Feng Yun’s lips curved slightly, "Where did that come from?"

Pei Jue said, "Prince of Jingling’s grand wedding, he married your stepsister Feng Ying."

Feng Yun’s hand gripping the cup shook, nearly betraying her composure.

Having foreknowledge and hearing it firsthand were two different matters; her numbed nerves were instantly torn by a renewed pain.

She had already become hardened, but the pain seemed to swell up from her very bones, out of her control.

Almost instantly, the dead Feng Yun controlled her emotions, reminding her of her downfall, leading her towards a breakdown.

"Sister, on the day of my wedding to him, I wore the bridal gown you embroidered with your own hands... "

"On our wedding night, he praised me for being gentle and beautiful, saying I was his first wife, and if possible... he wished to be the only one throughout our lives. But the heavens are blind... Xiao Lang and I loved each other so, yet we couldn’t have a child with our own blood... "

"If it wasn’t for borrowing your womb, do you think Xiao Lang would’ve endured the disgust of lying with you?"

Pain surged through her organs, and Feng Yun felt disgusted.

Disgusted with the so-called happiness of night after night that she believed she had, all of which were deceits. Disgusted that Xiao Cheng could act so convincingly, making her fully believe his pity, his love...

She bent over, her hands covering her stomach, sinking into pre-death agony, her forehead sweaty, her complexion pale, she opened her mouth and actually "vomited" out loud, almost throwing up...

"He married her as his equal wife," Pei Jue’s voice arose without mercy.

He could see Feng Yun’s pain and showed no sign of sparing her, calmly and impassively twisting the knife into her wound.

"Both wives hold equal status, with you as the honored. Are you pleased?"

Feng Yun suddenly looked up.

Her eyes unbelievably fixed on him.

Pei Jue was expressionless, motionless.

From scholars to commoners, the practice of taking an equal wife existed. With frequent wars causing separations between husband and wife, remarriages were not rare. Both wives holding equal status was already a common practice.

But taking an equal wife was only said of men who already had a wife, hence the term "equal."

Both wives holding equal status generally meant there was no distinction between primary and secondary, no precedence given to one over the other.

In her past life, Xiao Cheng did not marry Feng Ying as an equal wife; the equal wife was her.

Now, Xiao Cheng had yet to marry, and he had given Feng Ying the status of an equal wife—why would the Feng Family agree? And where did Xiao Cheng find the audacity to think that a fiancée who had been sent to the enemy’s camp was still his wife?

Feng Yun’s eyes felt hot, as if there were flames burning in them.

She couldn’t see the menacing appearance she wore in her anger.

She only saw Pei Jue stand up, open half a window, and let the cool breeze waft in through the lattice,

bringing with it the sound of frogs from the fields, instantly waking Feng Yun.

This wasn’t the dark, sunless Cold Palace in Tai City; it was the Tianzhuang in Andu.

The man in front of her wasn’t Xiao Cheng, it was Pei Jue, the equally ruthless and unfeeling Pei Jue.

Feng Yun laughed, her eyes moistening as if she was restraining a sob.

"Has the general come today just to tell me this?"

Pei Jue didn’t say a word. He looked back at her for a moment, sat down next to her, and placed his palm on her shoulder, slowly moving down, gently hugging her to his chest as if to comfort her.

"Would you like to bathe?"

Feng Yun’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked at him quizzically.

Pei Jue said, "Your clothes are soaked through."

Only then did Feng Yun realize she was drenched in cold sweat, as if she had just returned from a walk through the realm of the dead, feeling so weak she could hardly stand.

She shook her head and leaned against Pei Jue’s shoulder.

Pei Jue’s body was very firm, strong all over, but it felt safe.

She allowed herself to be vulnerable in this moment, in front of Pei Jue.

"You’ve seen me in a ridiculous state," she said.

Pei Jue looked down at her, his dark eyes shimmering, his expression inscrutable.

"The Jingling Royal Residence did not make a grand spectacle of the wedding ceremony."

Feng Yun let out a small laugh, amused.

She didn’t need Pei Jue to tell her what Xiao Cheng would say.

With the two nations at war and countless lives in turmoil, it wasn’t the time for a lavish wedding; everything should be kept simple.

"He’s nothing but a hypocrite," Feng Yun said. "What the general should be considering is why Xiao Cheng would choose this juncture to take a wife?"

Pei Jue looked at her forehead, glistening with fragrant sweat, "Why?"

Feng Yun said, "If Xiao Cheng doesn’t marry a daughter from the Feng family, Feng Jingyao won’t stand up for him in Imperial Court. Without the support of high officials, even if he controls an army of 500,000 and forces Xiao Jue to abdicate, he will only be viewed as a traitorous minister who usurped the throne. An ill-gotten position would earn him eternal scorn; that’s not what he desires..."

The Prince of Nanqi, unmatched in elegance.

Noble and pure, he seems almost divine.

This image is how the people of Qi view Xiao San.

Feng Yun laughed coldly, as if two venomous snakes might emerge from her eyes.

Pei Jue hummed in agreement, "He wants the position as well as the reputation."

Feng Yun’s gaze was distant as she stared at his face, "He’s no match for you."

A dark glint flickered in Pei Jue’s half-closed eyes, "In what way is he no match?"

Feng Yun’s heart tightened.

Did he want her to articulate the ways he was better?

"The general is not a good man, but you do not covet the empty title of ’good’. You bear a litany of curses without a care. He cannot match such breadth of mind."

Pei Jue did not respond, only rolled the hem of her smoky purple nightgown and tucked the slipping sash inside, before securing it tightly.

He was as calm as a listener, treating her as someone who didn’t understand the world—a foolish young girl.

Feng Yun’s mind was aged and dead; she was no longer a young girl, yet she took comfort in this.

At least for Feng Yun at this moment, the silent solace smoothed over her emotions, and the long-erased and burnt out feelings of resentment between her and Xiao Cheng were slowly dispersed by the night breeze, eventually settling down.

She stayed leaning on Pei Jue’s shoulder, immobile for a long time.

After what felt like forever, when the sweat on her body seemed to have dried in the wind, she finally stood up and bowed respectfully to Pei Jue.

There were no thanks, no sound, just a smile.

Pei Jue silently adjusted his clothing, leaned over to pour some tea, and drank by himself, not mentioning her earlier state, nor the warmth of that moment.

They sat in silence for a while.

Pei Jue broke the silence.

"Xiao Cheng is amassing a large force on the southern bank. What do you think of this?"

In Feng Yun’s letter, it read "Xiao Cheng will rebel," not crossing the river to attack.

Yet reality was starkly different from her "prophecy."

Feng Yun smiled, "Just a blindfold trick."

Pei Jue set down his teacup, his deep dark eyes studying her.

"Why are you so certain Xiao Cheng will rebel?"

No one who plans to rebel would talk openly about it.

On the contrary, they would act with utmost secrecy.

How could Feng Yun, a woman relegated to the inner quarters, be privy to Xiao Cheng’s movements?

So Pei Jue kept his guard up around her because of his suspicions, right?

If she had colluded with Feng Jingteng and Xiao Cheng from the beginning, then it was all an elaborate ruse under the guise of offering a woman. If Pei Jue were to believe her, then the 500,000-strong army would be as fish in a barrel, waiting for the ill-swimming Beiyong Army to dive in...

From Pei Jue’s perspective, Feng Yun also found herself to be suspicious—

Of course, Pei Jue indeed had his doubts about her.

That was indisputable.