Rising Phoenix - Chapter 295

“Men and women should never cross the bounds of propriety.” Feng Zhiwei replied in a solemn voice. “He understands this.”

“Right. He always washes Zhixiao, is Zhixiao not a woman?”

Feng Zhiwei smiled awkwardly and grabbed her friend’s hand, confidently declaring: “You’re overthinking. Let’s go!”

The small river curved around a small copse of scattered trees, but the clear water gleamed in the moonlight. As they looked down at the clean water, the itch and dirt and sweat clinging to them seemed all the more unbearable, and Feng Zhiwei had to throw hurried hand signals as Hua Qiong peeled off her clothes.

Young Master Gu obediently turned around.

Gu Nanyi sat facing a large rock by the river, his back to the river. Their clothes piled onto the rock, and Feng Zhiwei calmly peeled off her mask and walked into the cold water.

She had not been able to really sink into water since coming to the northern border, and Feng Zhiwei took the rare opportunity to give her hair a good washing, unbinding her long hair and methodically combing her knotted, dirty hair.

Moonlight shone down like rays of milk as graceful and exquisite feminine bodies washed in the river by a large white stone.

Young Master Gu before that stone, obediently watching over their clothes.

The white stone was almost a mirror in the light of the moon, reflecting the sights of the river behind him.

Pretty curves and delicate muscles filled the white stone; hair fell down like a flowing waterfall, tracing gorgeous limbs down to just above the knee. Thin, straight legs like jade bamboo, thighs round and smooth like a slender Pipa, the curve of round hips and a tight waist of flat muscle giving way to perfect little mounds…

Gu Nanyi hurriedly looked away, and the moonlight around his veil shone down on his blushing ears.

His first blush from a woman’s reflection on white stone.

Gu Nanyi gripped the grass around him, his confused heart pounding, stirring from almost two decades of peace, like a neighing stallion beating faster and harder and louder as if it were about to gallop out of his chest.

His mind was in chaos, his heartbeat loud in his ears, the world’s sounds seemed to fade away, and his eyes blurred. Gu Nanyi grasped his pounding chest and thought he was about to die.

His first touch taste of desire raged through him like a wild horse, and he failed to spot a faint noise behind him, a quiet rustle in the woods across the river.

There, behind a messy pile of stone, a figure watched quietly, thin, bright eyes glowing like ghost-fire in the darkness.

He stared at the women washing in the river, his eyes locked onto Feng Zhiwei.

The river gurgled under the bright moon, the sounds of water warding off the noise of the world. Feng Zhiwei was still carefully combing her messy hair, her skin white as snow, the otherworldly beauty of her face clear in the moonlight.

The pale light gleamed over her long lashes, casting gentle shadows across the lines of her face. Her makeup was washed away and her mask peeled off, and all the remained was her smooth crystalline skin, her long, beautiful brows, and her misty, soulful eyes.

Strange light filled the eyes watching her, and the gaze turned to the face-mask resting on the stone by the riverbank.

A quiet smile filled the man’s face, a satisfied steely smirk sharp as a wire slicing through the peace of the night.

Time passed; Feng Zhiwei and Hua Qiong finished washing and returned to the riverbank while Gu Nanyi sat frozen, never daring to shift his head.

The shadow in the woods waited until the trio had left before finally disappearing into the night.

…

The sun rose above the steppes watching over a long train of carriages moving across the land.

The transportation of the Shunyi Steel Battalion’s military provisions was vital to their battle readiness. The Hu Zhuo Tribes always sourced their grain from Yu Zhou, and though the Shunyi Steel Battalion could technically request grain from the Northern Expedition Main Camp, Feng Zhiwei fought most of her skirmishes farther to the north and kept no fixed camp. Since she did not really trust the main camp anyway, she decided to take the Yu Zhou grain.

Yu Zhou City would ship the grain to Helian Zheng, and then she and Helian Zheng would decide on a rendezvous point for the king to deliver the grain to the battlefront. This way, the Hu Zhuo people’s familiarity with the land would also defend against Da Yue sabotage.

But this particular provision-logistics team looked somewhat different from usual and was clearly more solemn and heavily guarded than ever before — the Shunyi King rode with the grain.

Feng Zhiwei had not shared her battle plans with Helian Zheng, but with the battle reports he had been able to guess at the huge risk she was about to take. Worries filled his heart, and finally he had entrusted the King’s Court to Dowager Queen Sudan and joined the provisions team to meet up with Feng Zhiwei.

If she was rushing into danger, he would be right there beside her.

Even in the worse case scenario, the steppes would still have Dowager Queen Sudan and ‘Living Buddha Zhixiao.’

Helian Zheng smiled brightly as he rode forward, clearly looking forward to seeing Feng Zhiwei again.

But suddenly the train halted and noise filled the air.

Helian Zheng straightened to attention.

“King!”

A soldier called out, his expression shellshocked, “The front… the front…”

Helian Zheng frowned, kicking his horse forward.

Helian Zheng’s horse was Feng Zhiwei’s gift to him, the captured Yue Horse that she had stolen from Jin Siyu. Jin Siyu had been the man behind the death of Helian Zheng’s father, and though the young king had to expend great effort to tame the beast, every minute had been worth it.

Helian Zheng’s swift horse flew through the team’s men, and very quickly he spotted a messy-haired woman dressed in rags.

Helian Zheng’s heart skipped a beat as he feared terrible news from the Steel Battalion, but then he took another look and had to blink away his astonishment.

“Mei…Mei…” Helian Zheng stammered in his shock.

The woman lifted her eyes, only those bright orbs recognizable through the bruised swelling of her face.

The woman froze at the sight of Helian Zheng, her gaze dazed as she stared blankly at Helian Zheng for the longest moment. When recognition finally dawned, tears covered her face.

She wept without sound, and water poured forth like an endless fountain, dripping down her cheeks without pause or end.

She cried until she began to shake, silent tears flowing down her bruised swelling, cutting trails through the as he and dirt on her face.

Only the deepest and most heart wrenching pain could cause such tears.

No one was unmoved.

They had all known Medora, the proud and arrogant princess of King’s Court, and none of them were happy to see how far she had fallen.