Female Consort Chapter 78: Triumphant Return

The news of the Northern Xiongnu's surrender and request for peace swiftly reached the capital.

After confirming it wasn't a ruse, the military leaders gathered for discussion. Though the enemy had yielded, they all agreed they needed to remain cautious.

Prince Zhao, now advanced in age and originally stationed in Lingbei, volunteered to remain behind and guard the frontier.

Before returning to the capital, Qiu Che received another letter from Li Qingwu.

Over the past year of constant warfare, they’d been forced to live on the move, often staying in roadside relay stations.

That morning, Wu Yiqi was already waiting on horseback outside the station.

Having long grown used to the two women’s overly affectionate correspondence, he pulled a face and tactfully stepped aside to wait.

Qiu Che vaguely heard him bickering again with Yu Yan, who had just come out after feeding the horses, 

"Move over, you're blocking my Snowflake from leaving the stable."

"Snowflake? You mean that black Ferghana steed the Governor of Lingbei gave you?"

"None of your business."

"Your naming skills are consistently awful."

"...Young Master Wu, come here."

"What for?"

"To hit you."

Qiu Che couldn't help laughing as she walked over and unfolded the letter.

In it, Li Qingwu congratulated them on their triumphant return and reassured them to take their time on the journey back, everything in the capital was fine.

But Qiu Che suspected she was only saying that to keep them from worrying.

The border had been in turmoil all year. Every one of Li Qingwu’s letters contained the same comforting tone, never once mentioning the treacherous infighting of court politics, no doubt to keep their minds at ease.

Taking a deep breath, Qiu Che put the letter away and went to fetch her horse, a birthday gift from Li Qingwu, who had asked Yu Yan to buy it on her behalf.

This horse had accompanied her into battle multiple times. It was a rare steed, loyal and strong, its meals even better than Qiu Che’s own.

And its name? After pondering for an entire day and night, she’d settled on… Little Flower.

She stroked Little Flower’s mane, mounted swiftly, and raised her voice toward the two still bickering nearby. “Let’s go.”

By right, the women’s army should have remained in the borderlands together, but given that they were women, their rewards and titles were still uncertain.

So Qiu Che selected ten of the most skilled warriors to accompany her along a back route, while the rest returned via the official road.

This had another advantage: their return would go unnoticed. If someone wanted to get rid of them before they reached the capital, traveling in a small group made it easier to evade an ambush.

The seven-day journey was shortened to five with hard riding.

Late on the fifth night, they arrived at a relay station just outside the capital.

The stationmaster was visibly startled, clearly not expecting them back two days ahead of schedule, but quickly composed himself and warmly invited them to rest for the night.

It was already late, and with the city under curfew, the group, especially Yu Yan and the others who had been pushing themselves hard, looked exhausted. Wu Yiqi snapped his fan closed and nodded. “Let’s enter the city tomorrow. Best to rest up tonight.”

Qiu Che glanced at the shadowy city gates in the distance, a vague unease stirring in her chest.

She said nothing, only lowered her head to gently stroke the hilt of her carving knife hidden under her sleeve.

She had often fallen into these quiet spells while on campaign, withdrawn and introspective, far more so than she’d ever been in the capital.

Wu Yiqi was used to this. Thinking she was just zoning out from fatigue, he clapped his hands and said, “Settled then. What's on your mind, Lord Qiu? Come back to us.”

But Qiu Che softly replied, “I sent her a message five days ago. She still hasn’t written back.”

Wu Yiqi paused, then caught on to who “she” was. “Ah, that’s probably nothing. Maybe she figured you’d be home soon anyway, so she didn’t bother. It's just one night…”

He trailed off when he met Qiu Che’s silent, steady gaze, and a nerve twitched visibly at his temple.

He was about to say, “No way… don’t tell me you’re going back right now,” when Qiu Che suddenly stood.

With a fluid flourish, she flicked the carving knife in her hand in a graceful arc, then slid it smoothly back into her sleeve.

Without another word, she turned to leave. “You all rest.”

Wu Yiqi called out, “Where are you going?”

Qiu Che didn’t answer.

Avoiding others’ notice, she passed by the stables and glanced at her horse.

She considered taking it with her, but it would draw too much attention. In the end, she left it behind.

Skirting the dozing gate guards, she thought of what Wu Yiqi had said: maybe Li Qingwu hadn’t replied because she knew Qiu Che would be back soon.

But Qiu Che knew better.

Over the past year apart, they had never gone more than three days without a letter.

That pigeon Yu Ming raised just for their messages was plump and well-fed, and it only responded to the scent of the three of them.

Qiu Che couldn’t explain it, but a deep, inexplicable dread had taken hold of her.

She imagined countless possibilities on the way back to the Princess’s residence.

Just days ago, they had heard that Emperor Li Shi had once again fallen ill. The Crown Prince had taken over court affairs and frequently clashed with the Empress Dowager.

Minister Wu, on the other hand, had become all but invisible amidst the power struggle.

Could it have something to do with that?

Her thoughts spun in circles, but none of them prepared her for what she saw next.

In the dead of night, the main residence was a scene of quiet chaos.

Fu Ling, covered in sweat, was directing a stream of maids with calm precision, clearly experienced, though visibly strained. Her voice was low, ensuring those in the side courtyard weren’t disturbed, but loud enough for all to hear:

“Move faster! The water needs changing. If the medicine is ready, have the kitchen send it up immediately. And keep your voices down, don’t wake the old madam…”

Qiu Che stared blankly, struck by how eerily familiar this scene felt.

“What’s going on?”

Fu Ling froze at the sound of a voice both unfamiliar and familiar, then instinctively turned.

When she saw Qiu Che, her eyes went wide. “Princess Consort, what are you doing back so soon?”

Qiu Che didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped forward and asked, “Is something wrong with Qingwu?”

Fu Ling nodded quickly. Seeing Qiu Che’s face darken at once, she made to enter the room, but Fu Ling immediately reached out, stopping her, blushing and hesitating, as she stammered out, 

“No, Your Highness… Her Highness is having an episode… from crossing her emotional tribulation…”

She said the last sentence in a particularly soft voice.

Qiu Che froze.

Suddenly, she remembered, just a few days after leaving the capital, it had hit her that Li Qingwu’s emotional poison trial still hadn’t been fully resolved.

Her departure had no set return date. When the time came, how was Li Qingwu supposed to deal with it on her own?

So despite her hectic schedule, she’d managed to write a letter to ask.

Li Qingwu had replied: All is well. When the cart reaches the mountain, a path will appear. No need to worry.

From that day forward, she began studying medicine under Doctor Chen.

Perhaps it was because she was said to be a descendant of the legendary "Southern Yi Saintess", she had an extraordinary natural sensitivity to the herbs of the Southern Yi region.

After only half a year of study, she not only managed to create antidotes for the common poisons used in the Southern Yi region, she even wrote to Qiu Che before the next flare-up of the emotional poison trial, saying she had successfully developed a cure.

Qiu Che had been skeptical. But the prescription she sent along was flawless, it could counteract the poison on the Northern Xiongnu cavalry’s arrows, and had indeed helped them through a dire situation.

But the emotional poison trial was something else entirely, she had once secretly asked Uncle Jiang about it, and even he had said there was no known cure.

So how did Li Qingwu manage to create one?

Qiu Che later tried to probe discreetly and even wrote to others who might know, like Fu Ling and Yu Ming, but the answers were all affirmative.

Never mind Fu Ling, Yu Ming was someone who would never lie to her.

Of course, there was still the possibility that Li Qingwu had deceived even them.

But stationed at the border, Qiu Che had no way of verifying the truth in person. She could only force herself to believe that Li Qingwu had indeed found a way to suppress the poison.

A whole year passed this way. In their correspondence, Li Qingwu never once mentioned the emotional poison trial again, and Qiu Che, swamped with military affairs, gradually put the matter out of mind.

Now, hearing what Fu Ling said, her expression shifted rapidly. She gritted her teeth and said, “Didn’t you say the poison had been cured?”

Fu Ling looked remorseful. “…It was Her Highness who asked us to say that.”

The poison of the emotional trial, unprecedented and unparalleled, how could it possibly be cured so easily?

Fu Ling didn’t need to say another word. Qiu Che understood.

The poison flared once every three months. If it wasn’t alleviated, the next outbreak would be even more painful, Doctor Chen had explained this to them long ago.

Qiu Che didn’t even want to imagine it. In the year she had been gone, the poison must have flared at least three times. How had Li Qingwu endured that?

Round and round, no matter whether their hearts were aligned or not, they had ended up in the same place as their previous life.

It was her incompetence that had led to the person she loved bearing the pain alone, just to spare her worry.

Qiu Che’s facial muscles twitched slightly. Her face blank, she said, “…Everyone, leave.”

Fu Ling looked at her in surprise. “Princess Consort…”

She had once witnessed Qiu Che enter Li Qingwu’s room during an outbreak. She’d eavesdropped at the wall all night.

After discovering Qiu Che was actually a woman, and recalling that night, she had been even more shocked.

A woman… could cure poison?

But Qiu Che didn’t care what she was thinking. Once the maids filed out, she strode forward and pushed open the door.

Inside, Li Qingwu lay on the bed, buried beneath heavy quilts. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed bright red. Sweat rolled in thick drops down her cheeks, soaking her clothes.

Hearing footsteps, she rasped, voice hoarse beyond recognition: “Water… I need water…”

There was a brief moment of silence outside.

Then the door clicked shut.

Light, quick footsteps approached the tea table, and the sound of water being poured followed.

Soon, someone walked over to the bed.

A hand reached out to help her sit up. “Drink.”

The voice… sounded familiar.

Li Qingwu’s foggy mind struggled to focus. As she reached for the cup, she muttered, “Don’t touch me…”

But as her eyes landed on Qiu Che’s face, her words halted abruptly.

The cup almost slipped from her hand, but Qiu Che quickly caught it.

Li Qingwu opened her mouth, dazed. “Am I… hallucinating from the fever?”

Qiu Che: “…”

Her mouth twitched slightly. Then she saw Li Qingwu reach out and cup her face.

In that moment, all her cold anger at being lied to evaporated.

Li Qingwu stared at her intently, breathing heavily. “You’ve gotten darker.”

Qiu Che: “…”

She couldn’t help grabbing Li Qingwu’s hand, laughing softly. “I’ve been at war all year, drilling the troops every day. Out in the wind and sun, of course I tanned.”

“But still beautiful.”

Li Qingwu nodded seriously, then suddenly said, “Ah.”

“What is it?”

“It’s not a dream.”

Qiu Che finally gave up pretending. Her expression relaxed slightly, touched with helplessness. “And what if it was a dream?”

Li Qingwu mumbled something under her breath, and Qiu Che leaned in. “What?”

Li Qingwu didn’t answer, just gestured for her to come closer.

And then, she opened her mouth…

And bit Qiu Che’s earlobe.

Not a real bite, more like a gentle nibble, intimate, teasing.

Qiu Che: “!”

They had shared a bed before; they knew each other’s bodies well. Just as Qiu Che knew she liked being kissed on the chest, Li Qingwu knew Qiu Che’s sensitive spot was her ears.

And she didn’t stop there. Still nibbling, Li Qingwu chuckled, low and sultry. “If this is a dream… then there’s no need to hold back.”

Qiu Che drew in a sharp breath.

She held the back of Li Qingwu’s neck, stopping her from leaning away, and their lips collided.

Then she murmured, “We’ll settle this tomorrow.”

Let me see just how unrestrained a dream-you can be.