Ah Qin, I’m hungry
As the sky turned completely dark, Ming Qin, driving the carriage northward, arrived at the inn where they would rest for the night. She estimated that it was about time.
That carriage, which she had tampered with, should have already overturned. Hopefully, the hungry wolves’ kiss would take that damn man’s life, or at least bite off his limbs.
If she hadn’t been in a hurry to reach their destination, she would have personally cut off his head to play with, giving it to Murong Yan as a toy. Ming Qin thought for a moment and shook her head vigorously.
How could something so filthy and bloody be worthy of being seen by the heavenly Murong Yan?
“Ah Qin?” The woman in her arms looked at Ming Qin oddly, shaking her head and hugging her neck in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Hmm? Nothing.”
Lowering her head to gaze upon the enchanting beauty before her, who dazzled like the rosy clouds of dawn, Ming Qin suppressed the sinister and bloodthirsty images in her mind. She gently placed Murong Yan on the bed plank and then said, “You rest for now, I’ll go check out the kitchen in the back.”
Murong Yan tightened her grip on Ming Qin’s hand for a moment before letting go, saying, “Go ahead.”
The inn they stayed in tonight was not as bustling as the previous evenings, with only one attendant desolately tending to the place. The simplistic and rather shabby decorations paired with the aged building gave off an air of dilapidation.
Descending the stairs, Ming Qin followed the attendant into the inn’s kitchen, only to find a stove even more rudimentary than the last inn’s and iron pots scattered haphazardly on the ground that certainly could not be considered clean. She frowned at the sight.
As they traveled further north away from the capital, the inns they could find became increasingly sparse, yet she never imagined that even the kitchen would be so crude.
Her gaze swept over to the cook squatting in the corner, smoking tobacco. His fingernails appeared to be unclipped for nearly half a month, with black grime embedded underneath, while his sleeve cuffs were greasily rolled up around his elbows in a careless manner.
She was afraid that no matter how much silver she offered, there was no way this place could prepare food that would satisfy Murong Yan.
No, to put it more accurately, she would never allow the food made here to pass Murong Yan’s lips.
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Ming Qin tugged at her hair with some frustration, yet she was at a loss about what to do.
After changing her clothes in the room, Murong Yan couldn’t stop herself from falling into an exhausted slumber. When she awoke, it was already completely dark outside. A wild wind carrying fine snow hooted as it blew, and the wooden window frames let out creaking noises.
In contrast to the howling cold wind outside, the charcoal brazier in the corner of the room had not been extinguished, keeping the entire room toasty warm.
The oil lamp lit by the bed emitted a yellow, mellow halo, illuminating the figure in black clothes who sat on the ground, dozing off with their back against the bed board.
For some reason, Murong Yan did not wish to make a sound. She merely quietly shifted her body behind Ming Qin, bending over and peering at the uninjured side of her face.
The gem on the earring she owned emitted a deep red halo, casting a golden hue on the closed eyelids’ eyelashes, while her chest rose and fell with each steady breath.
Even while at rest, her spine remained straight and poised. With eyes closed, the peaceful expression on her face shed its usual candidness and instead was tinged with a valiant quality alongside a hint of cool indifference that was unfamiliar to her.
Murong Yan felt a creeping anxiety as she watched, almost as if the person before her would, at any moment, shrug off her hand and depart due to that sliver of indifference.
She brushed her hanging hair behind her ear, leaning in and tilting her neck to plant a kiss on Ming Qin’s face.
As her breath touched Ming Qin’s cheek, the shadow guard abruptly opened her eyes, revealing the clear irises that Murong Yan was accustomed to. This gave Murong Yan a sense of relief, yet it didn’t halt her forward lean.
Ming Qin, feeling the familiar moistness at the edge of her lips, and worried that Murong Yan would strain herself, consequently elevated herself to a high kneel and gathered Murong Yan into her embrace.
Murong Yan’s gentleness swept past the person’s teeth, like a silent command that was subtly teasing.
Already well acquainted with the woman’s temperament, Ming Qin obediently responded, meticulously licking with her tongue.
“Ah Qin.”
Murong Yan, just out of bed, was so stimulated by Ming Qin’s tender and lingering kiss that she couldn’t stand it. Taking advantage of a moment to catch her breath, she murmured, “Don’t mind me.”
“But this might hurt you,” Ming Qin said, her fingers gently caressing Murong Yan’s cheek, lightly stroking her soft earlobe.
“I want you to be a bit rougher, is that okay?” The woman’s tone was earnest, her arms encircling Ming Qin’s neck.
Ming Qin frowned slightly with hesitation, “But…”
“Yanyan pleads with Ah Qin.” The woman’s voice softened, as though she would burst into tears if refused.
Ming Qin, who never bore to refuse, positioned her hand on the back of Murong Yan’s head in a compromising manner, saying somewhat helplessly, “If it’s no good, just push me, okay?”
“Okay…”
After Murong Yan answered, all Ming Qin felt was her breath being taken away, as the person before her pressed forward, faithfully carrying out the entrusted task.
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The normally docile and gentle person now had eyes filled with possessiveness, and the kisses that rained down like a torrential storm lacked the gentleness of the past.
After a long while, Ming Qin stopped her actions and propped herself up to look at Murong Yan.
“Are you crying?” She said in a panicked tone and then with guilt, “I’m sorry.”
The woman’s lips were bitten red, and she raised her hand to touch her own face, feeling indeed the trail of tears that streaked down her cheeks.
Seeing the person before her extremely anxious, even though she was panting, Murong Yan still felt somewhat like laughing.
Ming Qin clumsily wiped the tears from her cheeks, her head bowed in guilt, “I was too rough, I’m sorry.”
Feeling her body soft as if it was going to melt, Murong Yan stretched out her hand, gesturing for the person who was virtually kneeling at her waist to help her up, her chin resting on Ming Qin’s shoulder as she eased herself.
Her breath hit against Ming Qin’s earlobe, adorned with a garnet, and after a while, Murong Yan said in a low voice, “It’s not a pain that made me cry, it was happiness.”
These were tears nearly equivalent to those shed at the peak of joy.
Looking at the person before her with a perplexed expression, Murong Yan chuckled softly, trying to dismiss the strangeness in her body and changed the subject, “Ah Qin, I’m hungry.”
Upon hearing what seemed like the most critical issue on earth, Ming Qin instantly cast aside her guilt and confusion and exclaimed, “Right, right, right, eating comes first!” Then she carried Murong Yan with one arm to the table.
A quilt was placed on the wooden table; Ming Qin pulled it back to reveal an overturned iron pot with several hot sweet potatoes underneath. Beside them were two boiled eggs, a few dishes of pickles, and a bowl of clear and shiny cooked white rice.
“Take a look!” Ming Qin gestured like she was presenting a treasure, pushed all the food on the table towards Murong Yan after setting her down, and then sat opposite her with an expectant look in her eyes.
“This…” Murong Yan looked at the spread on the table – though plain and simple, it was clean and not oily or greasy – and felt surprised, “Ah Qin, was this made by the cook at the inn?”
Ming Qin shook her head, a look of pride on her face as she said, “I found these outside the inn!”
Looking at the snowstorm outside the window, Murong Yan felt a bit strange, “In this expanse of endless white snow, where did Ah Qin find these?”
“I went to a nearby village and asked the villagers there if they needed help, and exchanged work with them.” Ming Qin said as if it was nothing, her face calm, as though she didn’t mind that even the closest village was 30 li (12km but not precise calculation) away, and she had to rush through the forest in the wind and snow.
“At first, when I reached the village and knocked on doors, nobody trusted me. Later, an old man let me help him chop firewood because he had a bad back.”
While peeling an egg, Ming Qin continued, placing the smooth white boiled egg into the bowl in front of Murong Yan, “These two eggs were given by that old man. Afterward, when the other villagers saw that I was speaking the truth, they all came to ask for my help.”
Murong Yan stared at the person in front of her whose fingertips were severely frostbitten, silently holding her chopsticks without a word.
“I also knocked on many doors to ask if any household had any white rice.”
Ming Qin picked up a sweet potato and continued to prattle as she peeled it, “In the end, only the village chief had some. The old man was initially unwilling to give it to me because he wanted to save it to make porridge when sick. No matter how I pleaded, he wouldn’t give it to me, that old man was so stubborn! It was only after I caught two hares in the forest for him that he agreed to give me the white rice.”
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Even with a sense beyond ordinary people and martial prowess, it was difficult to catch rabbits in the dark forest on a snowy day, but anything was worth it to let Murong Yan have a good meal, Ming Qin thought happily.
“Come on, eat up!”
Seeing the person in front of her not moving her chopsticks, Ming Qin grew somewhat anxious. She offered a sweet potato to Murong Yan’s lips, saying, “Try this, it’s one I roasted, it’s very tasty! When my senior brother and sisters couldn’t eat the food made by our mistress, they’d always sneakily roast sweet potatoes in camp to eat. This is the only thing I know how to make.”
Being gazed at directly with Ming Qin’s clear and insistent eyes, Murong Yan woodenly bit into the still-steaming sweet potato. The tender and velvety texture spread a sweet fragrance on the tip of her tongue.
But she chewed for a very long time.
Her throat felt as though it was clogged with a pebble, scratchy, and her nose felt swollen with a sourness. She had already lost any sense of what the food tasted like that she was eating.
Even though the sweet potato had been chewed to mush, and saliva mingled with its sweet richness, Murong Yan still couldn’t swallow it.
She just blankly stared at the person in front of her, her heart aching fiercely.
The author has something to say:
Regarding whether I’ll write a second book after this story concludes, I’m considering it carefully. Currently, my mind is full of many stories, all vying to be played out at the same time.
What makes me hesitate is that I might get busier later on with starting a job or pursuing a Ph.D., so I won’t have as much time as I do now (I’m truly experiencing a rare rest in my life).
If I really decide to write, I may stockpile some drafts first, which is responsible not only to myself but also to those who support me. I genuinely treasure everyone’s partiality and encouragement towards me—every time I read your comments, I find myself smiling endlessly (how silly).
The candidate stories vary from post-apocalyptic fantasy, modern fantasy, campus + urban romance, European-style palace ABO (Omegaverse), future online gaming, and even another historical fiction. Each and every one can be written, and will have my niche style (?). None of these stories will be super long – they will be similar to this story about the princess and her shadow guard, where I will end it as soon as I’ve said what I want to say, without dragging it out or adding fluff.
When I decide which story to favor (?), I’ll report back to you all~
PS. However, the most important thing for today is to please reserve a spot in the comment section for my baby carriage. Thank you.
LP: Re-translated on February 12, 2024