The Princess’ Shadow Guard – Chapter 44

Just a hair tie?

Winter had passed its peak, and the festive season had arrived.

Although it was New Year’s Eve, Murong Can still went to the training field to practice. Murong Yan, not wanting to witness the hypocrisy of others, drank alone in the solitude of her own courtyard.

The warmed wine slid down her throat, yet her body remained bitterly cold.

Looking at the neatly placed black hairbands across the tea table, the liquor was light, but the woman felt a sourness in her throat as if it were being torn by flames.

Murong Yan was draped in a bright red robe, adorned with not a single hint of black, yet she was not dressed to celebrate with the noisy crowd outside.

She just didn’t want to admit it.

It seemed that wearing any other color would be akin to mourning for someone passed away.

She wouldn’t acknowledge it.

The woman, who had a photographic memory since childhood, still remembered the same time last year, when she was surrounded by warm arms, relying on the steady shoulders of Ming Qin.

The woman also vividly recalled the intermingling of breaths, the way Ming Qin looked at her intently, gently caressing her cheek and softly praising her beauty.

In her mind, there still echoed at times the inebriated voice of Ming Qin, blushing as she drunkenly declared her fondness for her, the promise that she would never leave—her assurance.

Murong Yan’s chest ached with a dull pain.

And back then, she had fervently believed her, aspiring to become the most cherished one for Ah Qin.

But now, everything was in disarray.

After emptying the cup with a single draft, she intended to pour herself another, only to discover that the jade flask had been emptied long ago.

Five or six variously shaped wine jars were still rolling on the ground.

Murong Yan suddenly laughed.

Covering her face.

It was as if she were laughing at this absurd and cruel world, and at the same time, mocking her own whimsical wishes.

A wave of immense exhaustion came over her, as if it meant to crush the woman’s always proud demeanor and her delicate spine.

She couldn’t bear it any longer.

Like a camel carrying a heavy load of gold in the desert, if burdened with even a feather more, it would collapse to the ground with a thunderous fall.

Thus, she, utterly spent and haggard, fell into a deep slumber.

Tears still wet upon her cheeks.

Midnight.

Fine snow was drifting outside.

In the main hall, after finishing the reunion dinner, Prince Yu’s family, including Aunt Liu, Murong Wen, and his son, three generations together, were keeping watch for the New Year.

The atmosphere was harmonious and joyful.

The young Murong Fu, struggling to stay awake, dozed off in Aunt Liu’s embrace, softly humming.

A flurry of chaotic footsteps approached from afar, interrupting the merry conversations of the few drinking and chatting.

Murong Yan’s face was flushed, her robe disheveled, the bright red outer garment slipping from her shoulder, her expression lacking the usual composure as she burst through the door barefoot.

Ignoring the surprised looks of the others, she walked straight to the somewhat dazed boy, grabbed him by the collar, and whispered, “Where is it?”

Seeing that the boy was still in a daze, merely staring at her, Murong Yan used the strength of her slender arms to pull him off Aunt Liu’s legs, raised her voice, and demanded again, “Where is my thing?”

“Yue… Yue’er,” said Prince Yu, observing the woman’s unusual complexion, speaking out to smooth things over, “If Fu’er has done something wrong, let’s talk it out gently, talk it out, don’t be harsh with the child.”

Taking a deep breath, Murong Yan forcefully suppressed the surging mania and rage within her, merely fixating her gaze upon the boy as she said, “As soon as I woke, I noticed that a hairpin given to me by the previous Emperor, worth a thousand pieces of gold, was missing. The servants said that this evening, only you were seen in my courtyard. Hmm?”

“It can’t be!” Murong Wen, alarmed at the thought of such a valuable item being lost, said, “Fu’er, did you really go to your aunt’s courtyard and take the hairpin given by the Emperor?”

“I didn’t!”

Murong Fu’s face turned red from being yanked up, and he cried out, “I swear I didn’t! I didn’t take the hairpin! I only took a black hair tie!”

Hearing the boy’s words, everyone else breathed a sigh of relief.

Murong Yan’s mouth curled into a sneer, her expression growing even darker. “It seems that the Prince Yu’s Mansion really does have a thief.”

Underneath her hoarse throat was a rage about to erupt. She grabbed the boy by the collar and stepped back a few steps, “So, where is my hair tie?”

Seeing the boy still stunned, Murong Yan asked with a trembling voice, “Where is the hair tie you stole from me?”

“I… I don’t know,” Murong Fu shrank back a little, intimidated by the woman in front of him with a quiet voice but menacing eyes.

“You don’t know?” repeating his words, the woman lowered her head and let go of the boy.

Just when everyone let out a sigh of relief, Murong Yan, seemingly out of nowhere, summoned the strength to grab Murong Fu by the neck and pin him against the doorpost, gritting her teeth, “Are you saying you don’t know where the hair tie you stole is? Hmm?”

Her knuckles tightened, and the boy struggled to breathe.

“Fu’er!”

“Let go!”

“Yue’er! What are you doing? It’s just a hair tie.”

The people beside her hurriedly stood up, and Prince Yu even more so, raising his voice in a furious rebuke.

“Just a hair tie?” Murong Yan repeated indifferently, the grip of her tiger’s mouth still tight, as she glanced sideways at the panicked crowd, “In my hands, there’s also ‘just’ a life at stake.”

Her tone was light.

“Think carefully.” She looked at the boy in her hands, his face pale, and warned in a low, expressionless voice, “Think carefully about where you took my hair tie.”

There seemed to be a flicker of madness in her eyes.

“I… I…” The nearly suffocated Murong Fu’s mind was spinning rapidly.

He had originally just wanted to take revenge on this unfamiliar aunt. Despite his father’s repeated warnings not to provoke her, why should he, who was so favored, be so deferential to this arrogant and disabled woman?

And why should he relinquish the large courtyard where he played daily to her, when it had been his own since birth!

Peering through the crack of the door, he noticed this woman treasured the tattered rope immeasurably. That’s why he sneaked in to teach her a lesson, thinking the rope wasn’t anything special—it had already been carelessly tossed by him into some pond.

“The pond…” the boy squeezed out the words with difficulty.

Murong Yan’s grip loosened slightly, “The pond? Which pond?”

Gulping precious air, Murong Fu hesitated somewhat, “Probably… in the fish pond of the main courtyard…”

Hearing the boy’s reply, Murong Yan abruptly let go, not caring about the boy lying on the ground gasping for breath. Without looking back, she headed towards the fish pond.

The woman stepped barefoot into the snow, making her way arduously towards the fish pond.

The pond was shallow, but the night’s cold had formed a thin layer of ice over the surface.

Without hesitation, Murong Yan stepped forward and broke through the layer of ice. Her bright red clothes were soaked by the cold water, becoming unbearably heavy, yet she kept moving forward until her entire lower half was submerged in the water.

She stretched out her hands, which had never touched the cold of spring water, bending over as she frantically sifted through the mud in the frozen pond.

Her delicate fingers were cut by the stones, oozing tiny beads of blood, but she seemed unaware of the pain, either because her hands had gone numb from the cold or because her mind was preoccupied with worries.

Ah Qin.

It was my fault.

I’ve lost your things.

I’m sorry.

I’ve also lost you.

Ah Qin.

I’m sorry.

The muddy bottom of the pond caused Murong Yan’s prosthetic limb to sink deeply, and she lost her balance, falling heavily several times.

The cold wind blew on the drenched woman; her lips were deathly pale, her entire being devoid of color.

Decomposed lotus roots and stems in the mud were overturned, and the buried fish bones emitted a rancid smell, but she still persisted.

Time passed indistinctly, and Murong Yan could only feel that her body couldn’t move anymore, as her consciousness gradually drifted away.

The last thought echoing in her mind was only of Ming Qin.

Ah Qin.

I really miss you.

LP: Re-translated on February 29, 2024