SWHCBB 66

Chapter 66: Zhiyu’s Past Life / He Wouldn’t Even Come to See Me One Last Time

In the middle of the night, in a haze between dream and half awake, Wen Jue’s grip on Jiang Chuang’s hand grew tighter and tighter. His eyes were shut tight, brows furrowed deeply, and his expression was filled with sorrow and pain.

But no matter how much he suffered, he couldn’t escape the nightmare. His whole body felt paralyzed, unbearably heavy, and his feet couldn’t touch the ground. He drifted in the dream, unable to wake.

In the dream, he was still blind. Yet somehow, from another perspective, he could vaguely see himself standing at the gates of the General’s residence, as if two versions of himself overlapped and exchanged places.

One of him, the “real” self, could see. His vision grew clearer as he looked at himself from a detached perspective, like an onlooker.

The other, his dream-self, was still blind. He stood at the General’s gates, listening to the sound of footsteps, voices, the autumn wind rustling fallen leaves, and servants sweeping the yard. His heart was knotted and heavy.

Changning appeared behind him, approached, and draped a cloak over his shoulders. He pulled up the hood to cover Wen Jue’s head and fastened the ties.

Wen Jue heard himself speak. His voice was hoarse and harsh. “He… has he already left the city?”

Changning sighed softly and carefully replied, “The General just left not long ago. Everything you ordered prepared has been slipped to him in secret. We didn’t say who it was from, and the General didn’t ask.”

Pain…

The third-person perspective vanished completely, leaving only the raw, real heartbreak to consume Wen Jue.

He stood at the gates of the General’s residence for a long time. At last, Changning spoke to persuade him: “He didn’t even pass by the gates on his way out of the city. Your Highness, what’s the point of waiting here any longer? The wind is strong. Let me help you back inside, you’ll catch another headache.”

Perhaps because there was no one else around whom he had to guard against, Wen Jue finally dropped his defenses. Head bowed, he asked in a bitter whisper, “Does he hate me that much? Hate me so much… that he wouldn’t even see me one last time?”

His words were quiet and humble, yet full of sorrow.

He was going off to war, a place where life and death were only a coin toss apart. One would be on the frontier, the other in the capital.

At the border, blades didn’t recognize faces; in the capital, arrows struck from the shadows. No one could promise the other would survive, let alone how long they might live. Perhaps… this goodbye was forever. This might very well be their last chance to meet.

And Jiang Chuang wouldn’t even come to see him one last time, how much must he hate him…

Changning’s eyes reddened before Wen Jue’s tears even fell. He turned his head away. “Don’t be sad, Your Highness. Maybe… maybe the route out of the city changed last minute. The General might not have thought it through. And… after all, he belongs to Prince Yi. He’s not one of us. Even if you saw him one last time… would it really change anything?”

Wen Jue said nothing. He stood still, barely breathing.

Changning tried to comfort him. “We have our own path to walk. Don’t worry. With the things you gave him, the General has good fortune. He won’t lose. Who knows… maybe he’ll even pick up another female physician somewhere along the way.”

He intentionally brought up that “Miss Su,” the one Wen Jue had personally killed, trying to make Wen Jue give up. The war could last for years, and time always changed people’s hearts.

The wind rose again. Even with Changning standing in front of him, it couldn’t be blocked. Wen Jue turned and placed his hand on Changning’s arm. “Let’s go back.”

He closed his eyes and silently prayed: Jiang Chuang, no matter what, may you have a smooth journey and return safely.

After Jiang Chuang’s departure, Wen Jue remained calm for two days. His emotions seemed steady, and he could even laugh and chat with Changning, as if nothing had happened. He never mentioned Jiang Chuang again.

He moved from the main residence to a side courtyard. The estate had few servants, but it was enough for him alone. Yet without that tall, sturdy figure walking its halls, the General’s residence felt empty.

The feeling of dreaming within a dream was vivid. In that dream, Wen Jue had fallen asleep again. He didn’t know what he had dreamed of, but he woke with a jolt. As he stirred, he unconsciously leaned to the side, wanting to cuddle and murmur, “Husband, I…”

The words caught in his throat. The other side of the bed was empty. He reached out, only cold sheets. Not even a hint of warmth or an imprint remained. No one was there.

He didn’t know how many times he had woken like this, chilled to the core. He should’ve been used to it by now, but he never could be.

He still fantasized that Jiang Chuang would hold him close and gently scold, “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. But you were wrong too! Just tell me the truth, do you like me or not?”

“I like you…” Wen Jue murmured aloud in the dark, still lost in fantasy. But when he heard his own voice, he laughed bitterly. That belated confession was worthless now, no one was around to hear it, and no one wanted to anymore.

“Cough, cough, cough…” He pushed himself upright. Over the past year, his body had declined more and more. He didn’t know how much time he had left. The imperial physician his sister brought in had said his health was failing and there was no cure. Only medicine could delay the inevitable, each day borrowed.

Sometimes Wen Jue felt lucky he hadn’t confessed to Jiang Chuang. In this broken, dying body, he had lived long enough. There was no need to use his feelings to chain someone else down.

This now… was their best ending. After he was gone, Jiang Chuang could marry again without guilt, without having to look back.

He groped to stand, trying to pour himself a cup of water without waking Changning, who stood night watch. But when his hand brushed against a book on the table, he froze. Tears fell silently down his cheeks.

It was a book Jiang Chuang had bought. one he used to hold Wen Jue close and read aloud from, again and again, before bed.

No one read it to him now. But he had still brought it into this room.

Wen Jue traced the cover, trembling as he wept uncontrollably. The emotions he had suppressed all this time broke free. His surface calm shattered, exposing the sorrow beneath.

“Your Highness!” Changning rushed in, having heard his strange breathing and a choked sob.

He ran to Wen Jue, but before he could speak, Wen Jue suddenly felt a metallic taste rise in his throat. His chest ached as if stabbed. He clutched at Changning’s hand.

No matter how hard he bit his lip, he couldn’t stop the surge. His lips parted, and a mouthful of blood spilled out, staining the floor and soaking the hems of both their robes.

Changning was terrified and shouted, “Your Highness!!! Someone! Get the physician! Send word to the Princess’s estate! His Highness is coughing blood!”

In the dream, Wen Jue passed out. In reality, he woke up nearly crying.

“Zhiyu… Zhiyu… wake up! What’s wrong? What did you dream about? Zhiyu!”

Wen Jue’s brows were tightly furrowed. Eyes closed, tears streamed down. He was nearly suffocating, but in the blurred space between pain and consciousness, he seemed to hear Yunchuan’s voice.

That voice pulled him from his nightmare, giving him the strength to open his eyes.

His vision was hazy, but he saw a silhouette in front of him. The voice cried out again, “Zhiyu? What’s wrong? Don’t scare me!”

It was a familiar scent. A familiar voice.

Wen Jue’s lips trembled. The grief and regret from the dream still clung to him. The contrast with reality made it feel like he had survived death.

He threw his arms around Jiang Chuang’s neck, buried himself in his chest, and sobbed uncontrollably.