Chen Rong bit her lip and suppressed the strange feeling gushing from deep inside. “We don’t have to end up dead!” She quietly lifted her eyes to look at him.
Wang Hong’s handsome and lofty face remained as it was. He did not seem to hear the certainty in Chen Rong’s voice. He just smiled. Slowly, he let go of her hand and stood up.
As he rose, Chen Rong found that the man in front of her had suddenly become distant and foggy. It was only moments ago that he had made her feel as though they were very close. But in just a blink of an eye, Chen Rong discovered with fright that he was still the cloud in the sky and she was still that piece of drifting leaf!
Wang Hong stood tall and looked down at Chen Rong, his smiling face both tranquil and distant: “You must be tired from the long trip, Ah Rong. Get some rest.” When he finished, he waved his wide sleeves, turned and went away.
Chen Rong sat in place for a long, long time to watch him drift farther away until he gradually disappeared in the sunlight. Facing the empty study, she answered, “Aye.” Even now, her legs were soft and her heart was beating erratically from seeing him again. She needed some quiet and peace to herself.
Half an hour later, Chen Rong left the study.
At this time, the Hu’s shouts and horses’ neighs beyond the city walls were mixed with the clamoring from inside, growing into a riotous din.
In addition to several frenzied maids in the courtyard, only Old Shang was around.
Chen Rong beckoned a maidservant over. “Bring me a set of your master’s clothes.”
The maid wasn’t in the frame of mind to ask her why; she bowed her head and ran to the bedchamber.
Soon, a light blue robe and a white robe were presented to Chen Rong. “These are both Qilang’s old clothes. Which one would you like, miss?”
“The blue one.”
Ever since she was a young girl, Chen Rong had never liked to wear white clothes. Firstly, she couldn’t wear something so pure and clean, and secondly, they were in the commoner’s style that she didn’t like.
After taking the outfit, Chen Rong said to the maid when she saw her turning to leave: “Help me with my hair.” When she finished, she sat down in front of the mirror.
The maid absentmindedly complied and came to stand behind her, asking: “What hairstyle would you like, miss?”
“The men’s, of course, since I’m wearing men’s clothes. By the way, speak to the servants and tell them that only a young man had come here, never a young lady.”
Puzzled, the maid asked, “Why, miss?” But she immediately thought of the reason and quickly complied, “Aye.”
Before long, Chen Rong had been disguised as a young, dashing man. In reality, her male disguise was ineffectual. Her features were too exquisite and her body was too well-endowed. No matter how large the robe, there was inevitably some degree of femineity. The battle was soon to come, nevertheless, and she couldn’t afford to care about these details.
Chen Rong glanced at herself in the mirror once more before striding out.
When she left, she did not see too many people on the streets. She occasionally saw a few servants who were also dashing about, both hurried and tumultuous. It appeared that the calmest place in the entire mayor’s estate was still Wang Qilang’s courtyard.
After walking for a while, Chen Rong saw a servant from the Wang house and quickly asked, “Where’s Qilang?”
The servant was in a hurry and didn’t look to see who was asking him. He waved his hand: “On the watchtower.”
“Thank you.”
Chen Rong strode to the tower.
Before long, she saw Wang Qilang standing on the tall tower in his snowy robe that was always spotless and pure.
It was the strangest thing. There were obviously people in front of and behind him; there was obviously an uproar outside the city. But when he stood there, the sky seemed cloudless, and Chen Rong thought she only saw him stand alone.