SWHCBB 109

Chapter 109: Extra 1 – Peaceful End, a Hundred Years of Harmony

The General’s estate bustled with activity. Guards filled every corner, from front to back, from the outer courtyard to the inner halls, perhaps even more than the palace itself. But with so many noble figures gathered here, no one dared be negligent. Another group of guards had just formed a perimeter around the entrance.

Had this been any other official’s residence, people might assume the owner was in serious trouble. But this was the General’s estate, right next to the Prince Jin’s manor. Given the scale of the defense, it was understandable.

Though the estate seemed lively, there was an underlying somberness.

Everyone wore grave expressions. Silent glances passed between them, followed by sighs and headshakes. A few younger ones stood to the side, cautious and tight-lipped, brows furrowed with concern.

Suddenly, a bright yellow, ornate carriage rolled slowly to the gates. Everyone immediately moved to greet it. As the passenger stepped out, all bowed deeply. “Greetings, Crown Princess.”

The woman wore bright yellow court dress, her aura commanding, face filled with urgency. She waved a hand. “You may rise.”

She strode into the estate, bypassing officials and imperial physicians, her pace quickening.

Another woman followed behind and carefully spoke, “Your Highness, General Jiang has fallen unconscious again. His Highness Prince Jin is still at his side and refuses to move. He hasn’t eaten or drunk anything for a day. None of us could persuade him. Even Tingjing failed. Perhaps you could try?”

“How could this be? How could Grand-Uncle bear it like this?” Her voice trembled with heartache. She turned to Gongsun Tong. “How has Grand-Uncle been these past two days?”

Gongsun Tong knew she meant Jiang Chuang and shook her head, face grim. “Not well. The imperial physicians say he’s clinging to life by sheer will alone. It’s been seven days like this.”

The more she heard, the heavier Wen Xiao’s heart became. “Why wasn’t I informed sooner? Who blocked the message?”

Gongsun Tong didn’t dare answer. Zhuge Jiao stepped forward instead. “It was the Emperor’s order. She was afraid you’d grieve before reaching the capital and cause trouble. So she sent someone to hurry you back instead.”

Since it was her mother’s decision, Wen Xiao couldn’t push the blame further. But just as she reached the inner courtyard, she saw a group of familiar faces guarding the door, Wen Jue and Jiang Chuang’s closest confidants.

General Huang’s son, Huang Jin; Zhuge Qing’s son, Zhuge Tingjing, and his husband; as well as two younger members of the Li family. If not trusted, they wouldn’t be allowed here.

Zhuge Tingjing was currently crying red-faced in his husband Ji Lan’s arms. When he saw the Crown Princess, he tried to bow, nearly fainting.

Seeing this, Wen Xiao’s throat tightened, her eyes growing red. Her voice came out hoarse. “No need for formalities.”

Zhuge Jiao stepped forward and gently patted Tingjing’s shoulder. “Don’t cry. You might not even live as long as General Jiang. Few are as fortunate as him, to live to ninety-nine. There’s nothing to be sad about.”

Tingjing, eyes swollen, stared at her. “Sister Jiao, I know you mean well, but could you be a little gentler?”

Ji Lan stroked his hair. “It’s okay. Sister Jiao means well. Don’t cry anymore. If you’re upset, Prince Jin will only worry more.”

“Mm…” Tingjing buried his face in Ji Lan’s chest, holding back his grief. He was the closest to Wen Jue among the younger generation. Though he understood, he still couldn’t accept it.

At the door, Wen Xiao hesitated before gently knocking. When no one responded, she slowly pushed it open.

There was no heavy smell of medicine, only a faint fragrance.

The room looked exactly the same as her last visit. A stack of books and a chessboard sat on the table. Fresh xingcai flowers bloomed in a vase. Whenever Jiang Chuang was in good health, he and Wen Jue would go to Xiang Lake every two days to pick those very flowers.

Wen Xiao didn’t know why her great-uncles loved that flower so much, or what it meant.

She had assumed that in Jiang Chuang’s condition, there would be no more fresh xingcai. So seeing them now startled her. It couldn’t be a good sign. If Grand-Uncle Zhiyu was this desperate to preserve everything tied to Jiang Chuang… how could he ever accept letting him go?

Her gaze swept across the room…

The walls were covered in souvenirs they’d collected during their travels, nearly filling the entire space.

By the bed still hung the sword gifted by the emperor before her ascension, along with a wind chime made of new bamboo slats, its tassels long faded with age.

Lying in bed was an old man with white hair, tall and strong, his features still sharp. Though his breath was shallow and his eyes closed, the aura around him hadn’t diminished. Time had etched lines into his face, but hadn’t dulled his stern, handsome looks.

Beside him, someone sat at the bed’s edge, holding his hand tightly, head resting on his shoulder. Long, silvered hair cascaded down his back. His frame was thin, but his exposed wrist was still fair, though lined with wrinkles.

Wen Xiao felt her eyes sting. She stepped forward and crouched beside him, placing a hand over his and softly calling, “Grand-Uncle…”

The man heard her voice and slowly lifted his head.

Though his temples were gray, the wrinkles on his face were faint. Only the crow’s feet and silver in his hair hinted at his age. Yet his eyes remained dark and luminous, carrying the calm weight of time. Wen Xiao often marveled at how little age touched him, he was ninety-seven but looked twenty years younger.

Now, however, he was visibly weary, his eyes red and puffy. Still, when he looked at her, he smiled gently, just like when he used to comfort her as a child. “Xiao’er, you’re back. But your Grand-Uncle’s asleep right now. Be good, wait a little.”

Wen Xiao glanced toward Jiang Chuang, lying with eyes closed, and choked out, “Is… is Grand-Uncle alright?”

Wen Jue looked at the man beside him with deep affection and pressed their hands to his cheek. “He’s fine. He’ll wake up soon. He said once he’s feeling better, he’ll take me to Xiang Lake again.”

Wen Xiao reached out and touched Jiang Chuang’s arm. If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, she would have thought…

“Grand-Uncle, wake up. It’s me, Xiao’er is back.”

Wen Jue placed a hand over hers, shaking his head, eyes filled with exhaustion and tenderness. “Let him sleep. He’s been forcing himself to stay awake for six days. He finally slept.”

Wen Xiao looked at Wen Jue. Now, more than Jiang Chuang, she was worried about him. Holding back tears, she pleaded, “Grand-Uncle, they said you haven’t eaten or drunk anything today. How can you go on like this? Tingjing is crying his eyes out. Everyone’s worried about you.”

Wen Jue shook his head. He was old, his mind slower, more stubborn, and fixated. “I can’t leave. I need to be here. If Yunchuan wakes up and doesn’t see me, he’ll panic.”

Wen Xiao offered, “Then let me have food brought in. You can eat here, alright?”

“It’ll wake Yunchuan.” Wen Jue gently stroked Jiang Chuang’s face, comforting her. “I’m fine. Go tell the children not to worry. Yunchuan will get better, and so will I.”

She still wanted to argue but, seeing his gaze fixed solely on Jiang Chuang, she knew no words would get through. So she quietly left.

Once outside, the younger ones surrounded her, asking how things were.

Wen Xiao glanced around and ordered someone to summon the physician. Only then did she confirm that Gongsun Tong was right. Grand-Uncle Jiang’s internal organs had completely failed. His time had come.

And yet… he had lasted this long. No physician could help him, not because he was sick, but because his life had simply reached its end.

A peaceful passing was considered a blessing. However hard it was to let go, Wen Xiao knew that fate always came to an end. It couldn’t be forced.

After a moment of silence, she asked, “If General Jiang refuses to pass and clings to that last breath… is there any harm?”

The imperial physician paused. “Not really…”

Zhuge Jiao suddenly spoke. “Your Highness, my father once knew a master who dabbled in metaphysics. He said that if someone’s time has come but they refuse to die, clinging on through sheer will, they might miss their time for reincarnation. Their soul may wander and become a ghost, eventually fading into nothing.”

“There’s really such a saying?” Zhuge Tingjing was startled, half in doubt.

Zhuge Jiao replied, “Better to believe it than not.”

Everyone turned to look at Wen Xiao, waiting for her decision. It had already been seven days. They had taken turns guarding the General’s estate, uncertain whether to stay or leave.

Wen Xiao sighed lightly. “I’ll go try to persuade Grand-Uncle.”

She already knew why Great-Uncle hadn’t let go of his last breath, it was all because he couldn’t bear to part, because he hadn’t loved enough, because he was afraid of leaving pain behind.

The door creaked open from outside. Wen Jue no longer had the strength to turn his head. His blurry gaze lingered only on Jiang Chuang.

“Grand-Uncle…” Wen Xiao approached him and softly comforted, “I still remember when I was little, Great-Uncle took me hunting. We competed to see who could catch more. He caught so many animals that I thought for sure I’d lost.

“But then he handed all his game to you and willingly admitted defeat. You didn’t need to do anything to win.”

At this, a faint smile returned to Wen Jue’s face. “He was always like that, loved showing off in front of me and needed me to praise him. Such a big man, yet still so childish at heart.”

Wen Xiao smiled too. “That was when I first understood why mother, though she had many consorts, only loved my father. Because since she was little, she saw the way you two loved each other. To have a heart devoted to just one, never parting until white hair, that’s true love.”

Wen Jue looked at her, at that face which so closely resembled the Emperor, and said, “Back then, Zhao’er was impulsive in her youth. For your father’s sake, she angered your grandmother. But she was a good child. No matter how angry she got, your grandmother couldn’t bear to punish her.

“You resemble your grandmother the most. I used to wonder whether you, like her, would one day gather all the handsome scholars in the land.”

Wen Xiao shook her head. “I’ve seen how Great-Uncle cherished you. With that kind of love in front of me, how could I ever split my heart among many? From a young age, I told myself I would find someone I truly loved, to spend a lifetime with, just like you two. And now, I finally have.”

Seeing Wen Jue softened, Wen Xiao gently brought up what was on her heart. “If Great-Uncle knew you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for a whole day and were so gaunt and weary because of him… he wouldn’t be happy.”

Wen Jue stayed silent. He knew she was trying to persuade him again. But he no longer wanted to do anything, he only wanted to stay beside Yunchuan and get through this quietly.

Wen Xiao worried about his condition. She knew that if things dragged on like this, he wouldn’t be able to hold out. It was better to accept the truth sooner.

“Grand-Uncle, I spoke with the imperial physicians. Great-Uncle… he passed peacefully. He’s only lingering because he couldn’t bear to leave you.”

“Xiao’er!” Wen Jue, rarely stern, raised his voice. “That’s not true. Yunchuan is just sick. He’ll be better soon, just like last year. He’ll wake up… cough, cough…”

The rush of emotion triggered a fit of coughing. Wen Xiao quickly patted his back. “Don’t be anxious… Grand-Uncle, Great-Uncle is already ninety-nine. He’s lived a long and blessed life. Now it’s simply his time. But if he keeps holding on like this, it’s not just you who suffers, it’s him too. Lying like this… it must be agony for him.”

Wen Jue shut his eyes tightly, forcing back his tears. He clutched Jiang Chuang’s hand and tried not to listen. “Leave. I don’t want to hear this! Yunchuan is just sick, he’ll be fine…”

Wen Xiao tried to say more, but Wen Jue, sobbing, shouted at her, “Get out! Get out!”

Afraid of pushing him too far, Wen Xiao quickly said, “Alright, alright, I’ll leave!”

Once she was gone, Wen Jue leaned against Jiang Chuang’s chest, not even daring to cry aloud.

After some time, the hand he held so tightly suddenly twitched. Wen Jue quickly looked up, wiped away his tears, and clung to that faint movement like it was salvation. “Yunchuan…”

Jiang Chuang was weak and exhausted, but he still tried to open his eyes. His trembling hand reached out, and Wen Jue immediately pressed his face into his palm. Jiang Chuang’s thumb gently brushed away his tears.

“Don’t… cry…” Jiang Chuang struggled to speak, still trying to comfort him. “I’m… not in pain… it’s okay… even if I go… my soul… will stay by your side.”

Wen Jue’s tears broke loose. He sobbed. “No, you can’t die… don’t go… don’t leave me alone…”

Jiang Chuang’s vision had grown cloudy, he could no longer clearly see the man in front of him. But in his mind, Wen Jue’s face was etched deep, both young and old, always the one he loved most.

“Zhiyu… my… Zhiyu.” A tear slid down Jiang Chuang’s cheek. Seeing Zhiyu cry like this, how could he bear to leave?

Wen Jue rubbed his face against that hand, wetting it with his tears. “I want to see you… touch you… hear your voice. Your soul… I can’t see it, I can’t hold it.”

He was on the brink of collapse, desperate to keep Jiang Chuang alive. “You can’t leave. I only have this one life. If you go… we’ll never meet again. Yunchuan… husband… don’t go…”

Jiang Chuang’s heart ached terribly. He struggled to breathe, eyes open, voice raspy and full of sorrow. “I won’t go… I want to live a few more years… stay with you a little longer…”

Wen Jue nodded fervently, grasping at him like a lifeline. “Stay with me, husband… sob… we still have so many plans left undone. We haven’t paid respects to Chen Lin and Changning yet this year. If not us, who will remember them?

“You have to live to a hundred, you promised me. We said we’d be together for a hundred years. You can’t break your word.”

He was rambling now, part plea, part accusation, even threats. All just to hold on to the one slipping away.

Jiang Chuang forced a faint smile. “Silly Zhiyu… cough, cough… being together for a hundred years doesn’t mean we have to live a hundred years. As long as we love and accompany each other our whole lives, that’s a hundred years of harmony.”

“I don’t care!” Though now an elder, Wen Jue still pouted and acted willful before him. “You have to live well and reach one hundred… If you go, what do I do? I… I can’t live alone…”

He broke down sobbing. “If you go first, how is that being together for life? I won’t have another life. Can you really bear to leave me like this?”

Jiang Chuang shut his eyes, but his tears still fell. How could he bear it?

If he could bear it, he wouldn’t have held on so long. He had tortured himself, and also Zhiyu, the one he had loved his whole life. It had been years since he last saw him cry like this.

“Zhiyu…” His hoarse voice called his name, unsure what else to say.

Suddenly the door burst open. Wen Jue thought someone had come again to talk him down. Without turning, he snapped, “Out!”

But the strain made him cough violently. Jiang Chuang grew anxious and tried to raise his hand to pat his back. “Don’t panic… don’t panic…”

“Is this how you treat an old friend after all these years?”

A young voice, familiar yet unfamiliar, sounded behind him. Wen Jue stopped coughing and looked up, squinting to recognize the figure. “Bai… Yuan?”

Decades had passed, but Bai Yuan still looked exactly as he had when they first met, untouched by age.

Bai Yuan nodded and walked forward. “It’s been a while, you two.”

Hope lit up in Wen Jue’s heart. He struggled to his feet. “Bai Yuan, did you come to save Yunchuan?”

Bai Yuan looked at the two elderly men. For him, it had merely been a period of seclusion. But for them, a lifetime had passed. And yet through their weathered shells, he still saw the youthful souls within.

Some things had changed, but not the love between them. Their bond had endured the test of time, unwavering at the core.

“No. I’ve come to send him on his way.”

Wen Jue froze. “What do you mean?”

Bai Yuan turned to Jiang Chuang. “You should’ve gone already. If you delay any longer, you’ll miss the time for reincarnation. Then you’ll become a wandering ghost, with no next life.”

Jiang Chuang’s breath was nearly gone, his voice faint. “I… can’t go… Zhiyu can’t live without me…”

Wen Jue cried silently, unable to say a word to stop him now. His whole body trembled with grief.

Bai Yuan shook his head. “No. You must go. Wen Jue’s time hasn’t come. His life isn’t over. You won’t be able to wait for him. And if you try, it will end badly.”

He looked at Wen Jue, understanding their reluctance. “Do you still remember the Ancestor?”

Wen Jue nodded.

“The Ancestor already changed your fate. As long as you pass peacefully, you can be reincarnated. After a hundred years, you’ll likely meet her again.”

Jiang Chuang let out a slow breath and finally relaxed.

Wen Jue, choking back his pain, sat beside him. “Reincarnation… when I do, can I meet Yunchuan again? If he goes first… what if I take too long to return?”

Jiang Chuang struggled to focus and made a solemn vow. “I’ll wait for you, Zhiyu.”

Bai Yuan shook his head. “I don’t know. But you can ask the Ancestor. She’s never refused you.”

Wen Jue bent down and embraced Jiang Chuang one last time, eyes shut, tears falling. “Yunchuan, wait for me.”

Jiang Chuang stroked his hair. Even in his final moments, he said the words once more. “I love you.”

Wen Jue leaned in, kissing his lips softly. “Sleep now… go, Yunchuan. I’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”

Jiang Chuang finally let go. His eyes closed, and the breath he had held for seven days faded gently away.

When his heart stopped beating, and his chest no longer rose, Wen Jue finally let himself weep aloud. “Yunchuan, don’t leave me behind…”

___

After Jiang Chuang’s death, Wen Jue lived in quiet grief for two more years. At the age of ninety-nine, he finally closed his eyes forever.

Just before his final breath, he seemed to see his sister, Changning… and Yun Chuan coming to welcome him. He closed his eyes eagerly and passed peacefully, as he had wished.

When he died, the room was filled with the sound of weeping.