A Minister's Capricious Affection | Chapter 50 | The Qiyan Siblings | Novela.app

Xin Yi’s stomach churned violently. He didn’t answer the question, instead propping himself up as he retched uncontrollably. But his stomach was empty, and having been frozen for so long, he could only dry heave. Ao Yun’s brow relaxed slightly. He hesitated, about to ask a question, when Wuyun Qiqige suddenly broke free from his grip and ran over. “What’s wrong with you?” The girl’s cheeks were flushed red from the wind, but it couldn’t hide her bright eyes. She leaned over to look at Xin Yi and said anxiously, “You can’t stay like this. You need to drink some hot sheep’s milk.” “Qiqige!” Ao Yun came over and pulled her behind him, saying with a headache, “What are you trying to do? Bring him back to the tent?” “He’s just a lost traveler,” Wuyun Qiqige argued. “Didn’t you say we should be kind and help others? If we don’t take him back, he’ll die here. Was everything you usually say just a lie?” “But he’s from Dalan,” Ao Yun attempted to reason with his sister. “He’s carrying a blade and is covered in wounds; he might be from the Beiyang Army. Qiqige, what if bringing him back brings danger too?” “He’s only one person.” Wuyun Qiqige adjusted her fur cap, which was being buffeted by the wind. “Without us to guide him, he’ll never make it out of these snowy wastes.” Ao Yun remained firm. “No. Leave him be.” “But look at his horse!” Wuyun Qiqige’s eyes darted around as she cleverly changed her tactic, sighing to her brother, “Look at what a beautiful horse it is. What if it freezes to death along with him? Or are you, the Blue Gemstone of the Qiyan, the favored of the Shaman God, Qiqige’s wonderful elder brother, planning to wait for him to freeze to death before seizing his horse?” A flash of embarrassment crossed Ao Yun’s tanned cheeks. “I would never do such a thing!” He paused, then added, “I won’t! If you want to take him back, are you going to carry him on your back yourself?” “He has a horse,” Wuyun Qiqige shrugged. “Just toss him onto the horse’s back, and we’ll lead it.” Having finished their exchange, the siblings turned in unison toward the unsteady Xin Yi. “Fine… alright then.” Ao Yun walked over, grumbling under his breath, “You’d better behave yourself.” Xin Yi felt the support of a powerful, strong arm. Though he leaned into the strength, his body remained tense. He was truly "tossed" onto Chiye’s back. For some reason, the usually temperamental and aloof Chiye allowed himself to be soothed by Wuyun Qiqige, letting her lead him deep into the wind and snow. Xin Yi pressed down on Tiandao, his consciousness gradually fading. *** Hot sheep’s milk bubbled and boiled, the rich, mellow fragrance of the milk drifting to his nose. Wuyun Qiqige poured another bowl for Xin Yi, and this time she also handed him a piece of warm, soft naan. Holding it in his hands, Xin Yi felt warm and comfortable all over; even his stomach felt much better. He had developed a fever, so Ao Yun had lent him an old robe from a few years ago. It fit him perfectly, and covered with fur pelts, he began to sweat out the chill. Wuyun Qiqige had taken off her fur cap and sheepskin coat, wearing a riding skirt and small leather boots. Her braids were dark and beautiful, her eyes large and clear. She had rolled up her sleeves and was currently brewing milk tea for Ao Yun. “Do you feel much warmer now?” Wuyun Qiqige tilted her head and smiled at him. “My brother’s tent is the warmest place around here.” “Thank you.” Xin Yi rested his left hand on his stomach, his fingers twitching uncomfortably. He wasn't yet used to the hollow sensation of losing his pinky finger. “Your pinky was cut off by a scimitar, wasn't it?” Ao Yun took the milk tea from his sister and took a few sips. Xin Yi mused, “Probably… I don’t remember clearly.” “The cut was fast and ruthless, the timing and strength handled with absolute confidence. The person who cut off your finger is a formidable man of Dayuan.” Ao Yun continued as if they were merely chatting about milk tea, “If it were me, I would have cut it even more beautifully.” “What nonsense are you talking?” Wuyun Qiqige held her own bowl of milk tea and came over to kick her brother’s shin. “If you comfort people like that, you’ll make Mother so angry she’ll come back from the grave.” “But I’m telling the truth,” Ao Yun said seriously. “If I were you, I certainly wouldn't have let him succeed.” He added, “Since it was a scimitar, you really are from Beiyang, aren't you? Arsleng’s Southern Expedition Army is hunting you down. He’s the one who cut off your finger, right?” Having finished his sheep’s milk, Xin Yi nodded. “Then you are of the Beiyang Army.” Ao Yun’s expression darkened slightly as he said to his sister, “I told you he was Beiyang Army.” “Well, he hasn't tried to hack you with his blade, has he?” Wuyun Qiqige made a face at him, then turned to ask Xin Yi, “What is your name?” “Yichuan.” Xin Yi asked in return, “And you are Qiqige?” “Qiyan Wuyun Qiqige.” Wuyun Qiqige lifted her small chin, a hint of pride in her voice. “The Flower of Wisdom of the grasslands.” “Every tribe on the grasslands has eighty or ninety 'Flowers of Wisdom',” Ao Yun countered. “Don’t be so arrogant.” Wuyun Qiqige huffed. “The Qiyan tribe only has me. In the future, all of Dayuan will only have this one Flower of Wisdom.” As she spoke, she made another face. “You blue rock!” “Ao Yun,” Ao Yun said to Xin Yi. “My name is Ao Yun. It doesn't mean blue rock; it means Blue Gemstone.” Xin Yi nodded to him as well. “My thanks.” “There’s no need to thank me,” Ao Yun sighed. “It was this Flower of Wisdom who insisted on saving you. If you feel even a shred of gratitude for her kindness, then leave once your wounds are healed. Whether it’s the Beiyang Army or the Southern Expedition Army, don’t bring either of them here.” “What’s the matter?” Wuyun Qiqige leaned in to mock Ao Yun. “Does the Blue Gemstone not want to see the Lion King? Or are you just afraid?” “Qiqige.” Ao Yun’s expression turned solemn. “Don’t talk too much.” Xin Yi’s heart stirred. He asked, “This place is… the Qiyan tribe?” Ao Yun’s gaze suddenly snapped to him. It was entirely different from the exasperated or polite tone he had used before; it was a gaze sharper than a Great Eagle’s. It felt as though once he set his sights on you, you could not escape the fate of being torn apart. “We are indeed the Qiyan tribe,” Ao Yun said, his voice low and slow. “What of it, Beiyang man? Is that a problem?” When Xin Jing had pursued the thirty-two tribes of Dayuan north, forcing them to migrate toward the glacial borders, the ruling house at the time was the Qiyan tribe. The Qiyan were a great tribe of Dayuan, but because they had abandoned the Zhadalan tribe—led by the Lion King Arsleng—during the northern migration, the Zhadalan were forced to hold Mount Canaan alone. Consequently, they turned their allegiance to the current Khabugeqin clan. Because of this, the Qiyan lost the throne of Dayuan and no longer drew the world's attention. To think it was the Qiyan tribe. Xin Yi looked at Ao Yun and repeated once more, “Thank you.” Ao Yun said indifferently, “Actually, I don’t really want to hear a Beiyang man say thank you. You could say something else.” “I am grateful for your care.” Wuyun Qiqige pursed her lips and smiled. “An interesting Beiyang man. I heard the Lion King went to Shangjin. Has he reached the banks of the Long River yet?” “No.” Xin Yi paused. “He is still outside Shangjin.” “This is a thankless southern expedition.” Wuyun Qiqige smiled at Ao Yun. “I told you he wouldn't get far. Do you still think I’m talking nonsense?” Ao Yun said, “I thought no one could stop him.” “Why do you think Arsleng won’t get far?” Xin Yi placed his empty bowl gently back on the small table, asking curiously, “He is the Lion King of your Dayuan, after all.” “He is theirs.” Wuyun Qiqige blinked mischievously. “This is the Qiyan tribe; we never raise lions. Since you know he’s called the Lion King, you should also know he’s called the Iron Wings of the Hanging Clouds. But that title is limited to Mount Canaan; Mount Canaan is the source of Arsleng’s confidence. If he doesn't come out to hunt soon, the name of the Lion King will fall.” She continued, “Your Beiyang has always been Dalan’s line of defense. You had a man like Xin Jing. If Beiyang dies, Dayuan will have its chance. But I heard Beiyang has a new Prince of Yan, Xin Jing’s younger brother.” Ao Yun followed up, “Are you a subordinate of this man?” Xin Yi smiled slightly. “No. I am just an ordinary person defending Shangjin.” “Lions don’t hunt ordinary people.” Ao Yun also set down his bowl. “I hope you can hold it.” “You don’t want Arsleng to reach the banks of the Long River?” “We don’t,” the siblings said in unison. “But that is our business; it has nothing to do with you.” Ao Yun withdrew his thorn-like gaze and said to his sister, “It has nothing to do with him.” “Of course it doesn't,” Wuyun Qiqige stuck out her tongue. “It’s not like he’s the Prince of Yan.” The conversation ended there. Ao Yun changed Xin Yi’s bandages and tended to his wounds, and Xin Yi drifted off to sleep once more. *** Wu Yu lifted the cover of the cellar and peered down. Inside, there were only a few scraps of green vegetable leaves left; not even a radish remained. The little brat’s stomach was growling, and Wu Yu himself was dizzy with hunger. “That damn old dog Qiu,” Wu Yu cursed irritably. “Would it have killed him to stock a granary?” But Qiu Deyao was already dead. Wu Yu grabbed a few handfuls of clean snow from the side and stuffed them into his mouth. He crouched there in distress, facing a dilemma. They only had these vegetable leaves left, yet Arsleng showed no signs of retreating, and Xin Yi was missing. Wu Yu thought to himself that if he didn't die in battle at Shangjin, he would eventually be killed by Bai Jiu anyway. What should he do? Since he was dead either way, he might as well leave behind a good reputation… “General!” A soldier came running over, wild with joy, waving his arms from a distance. “General!” Wu Yu swallowed the melted snow and said weakly, “What is it?” “Grain!” The man was dancing with uncontrollable excitement. “It’s grain!” “Huh?” Wu Yu stood up and looked out through the light snow. He could vaguely see people approaching. He couldn't help but take a few steps forward. When he got a clear look, his teeth began to ache. Truly, the thing he feared most had arrived. Wasn't the man leading them none other than the Prince of Pingding, Bai Jiu! He didn't recognize the fair-faced man following closely behind, but seeing that green robe and cloak, he could tell the man was extraordinary. Moreover, despite being dressed as a scholar, the man’s gaze was sharp and direct—clearly someone used to making decisive judgments. The newcomers were indeed Bai Jiu and He Anchang. *** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation ---|---|--- 乞颜 | Qiyan | A major tribe of Dayuan, formerly the ruling clan. 乌云其其格 | Wuyun Qiqige | A girl from the Qiyan tribe; her name means "Flower of Wisdom." 敖云 | Ao Yun | Qiqige's brother; his name means "Blue Gemstone." 哈布格钦 | Khabugeqin | The current ruling clan of Dayuan. 扎答兰 | Zhadalan | The tribe led by Arsleng. 垂云铁翼 | Iron Wings of the Hanging Clouds | One of Arsleng's titles. 贺安常 | He Anchang | A scholar/official accompanying Bai Jiu.