Chapter 311: Hello Chang'an
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Chapter 311: Can You Reconsider Me Now
Sitting cross-legged on the couch, bare to the waist, with fresh medicine still drying on the wounds across his back, Cui Jing stared silently at the crowd of subordinates who had just fallen to their knees before him with a loud thump.
“Grand General, from this day forth, you should boldly establish your own household!”
Yuan Xiang led the call with righteous fervor. “Start anew, open your own genealogy, invite a few renowned scholars to write the preface — and your name shall be placed on the very first page, as the true head of a new family line!”
Facing their zealous faces, Cui Jing was momentarily speechless. “...If I were to become the head of this new lineage,” he asked dryly, “whom exactly would I be leading?”
Myself?
“Lead us, of course!” Yuan Xiang thumped his chest proudly. “We’ve already agreed — once you open the new genealogy, you can write all our names into it!”
Deputy Commander Yu nodded in solemn agreement. “We are willing to bear the Grand General’s surname!”
“That’s right!” a young Xuanzhe soldier chimed in eagerly. “Even if you don’t wish to marry, Grand General, we’ll help you carry on your line!”
Deputy Commander Yu shot the man a glance — not wish to marry? That’s hardly the issue here.
Still, he nodded with conviction. “Yes! As for carrying on the family line, Grand General, leave that to us. Within three to five years, we’ll make sure the genealogy grows by a hundred pages!”
There were, after all, fifty or sixty of them. Even if each had only two children, wouldn’t that add up quickly?
Faced with such “heartfelt devotion,” Cui Jing’s expression was complicated. He asked quietly, “...And on this genealogy of yours, how are we to address one another?”
At that, Deputy Commander Yu blushed faintly. “If the Grand General does not mind, we would be honored to be received as your adopted sons.”
“...” Cui Jing’s face stiffened slightly. “If I recall correctly, you are seven or eight years my elder.”
Deputy Commander Yu declared instantly, “I don’t mind!”
After all, the Grand General had given him a new life — calling him Father in the genealogy hardly seemed excessive!
The others eagerly echoed the sentiment.
Off to the side, the physician who had been trimming gauze nearly dropped his scissors. This is utter nonsense! he thought. Surely the Grand General wouldn’t agree to something so absurd?
But then again... perhaps, wounded and disillusioned by the Cui clan, he might indeed wish to “adopt” a few sons for comfort?
That thought made the physician’s heart flutter with possibility. Though he was fifty years old — forty-five, perhaps, with kind lighting — his complexion was still decent, his frame well-kept...
A little older, yes, but still presentable!
Straightening his hair and face, he approached with the gauze, coughing delicately — hoping to be noticed.
Hearing the cough, Cui Jing turned his head — and met the physician’s modest yet expectant smile.
“...” One look at that wrinkled, over-eager face, and Cui Jing felt a sudden urge to be buried alive.
His subordinates were still swearing loyalty when Cui Jing, thoroughly unsettled, cut them off. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Grand General, we do this willingly! We care not for worldly scorn!”
“I care,” Cui Jing replied flatly.
He was utterly unprepared to become the adoptive father of half an army.
Seeing his firm refusal, Yuan Xiang’s eyes reddened as he spoke sincerely, “We only wished... to let you know, Grand General — no matter what, no one would ever dare belittle or oppress you again. You do not need the Cui clan’s backing! We only fear you might feel... alone.”
“Thank you,” Cui Jing said quietly. “But I am not lonely.”
Empty as it might be — it wasn’t unbearable.
Realizing that the Grand General truly had no interest in their proposal, the men rose reluctantly.
After all, the real purpose had never been to become his adopted sons — they only wished for him to know that they were his family, now and always.
From the corner, Physician Cao sighed inwardly. Young people these days lack perseverance. Why give up so easily?
Still, he comforted himself — even if the “adopted son” plan had failed, perhaps a little flattery might serve him better. After all, when a noble is hurt, that’s the best time for a... socially ambitious man to make himself useful.
He bowed respectfully. “Allow me to dress the Grand General’s wounds. It may sting a little, but please bear with it...”
Cui Jing nodded. “My thanks.”
Physician Cao tended to the injuries with exceptional care, murmuring with each motion—
“The Grand General’s physique is truly remarkable…”
“These battle scars — each one a mark of honor and valor…”
“Look at the structure, the musculature — strength and grace in perfect balance, truly a sight rare in this world…”
“...” Cui Jing’s face darkened. He resolved to remember this man — and ensure a far quieter one replaced him next time.
When the bandaging was complete, Physician Cao even tied a delicate bow at the side of Cui Jing’s waist. Fortunately, Cui Jing didn’t notice it — yet.
Just then, a soldier entered the room and bowed. “Reporting — the General of Ningyuan has come to inquire after the Grand General’s injuries.”
Chang Suining had returned with him, and estimating that the treatment must be done by now, she had come to check on him.
“Bring my robe,” Cui Jing said at once.
Yuan Xiang brought over a clean, wide-sleeved robe and offered it reverently to his Grand General — but just as he was about to hand it over, he hesitated and clutched it to his chest.
“Grand General… perhaps you shouldn’t put it on just yet?”
Cui Jing looked at him in silence.
Yuan Xiang lowered his voice, eyes bright with mischief. “You’ve suffered the pain already — might as well let Young Miss Chang see for herself…”
Steward Dai’s wisdom rang in his ears: the stronger a man is, the more he must learn when to show his wounds!
“Yes, Grand General, better yet — lie down,” Deputy Commander Yu quickly added, eager to help. “Lying down looks far more pitiful than sitting!”
“I have a suggestion!” Physician Cao piped up eagerly, demonstrating with his hands. “How about this — lie on your side, one arm propped like this…”
That pose would perfectly reveal the lean lines of the upper body — every muscle, every contour…
If you must use a “wounded soldier’s charm,” he thought gleefully, why not add a “beauty’s temptation” while you’re at it?
True, such a position might pull at his back wounds, but if one could endure pain on the battlefield, surely one could endure it for the sake of leaving an impression on the heart of a certain lady!
If I had a body like that, the physician mused shamelessly, I’d spend my days thinking of ways to make sure everyone saw it!
“…” Cui Jing could hardly believe such words came from a senior physician’s mouth.
It was almost comforting that the man didn’t treat him as a patient.
More troubling was the realization that he didn’t seem to treat him as human either.
Cui Jing extended his hand. “Give it here.”
Faced with that quiet but unmistakable command, Yuan Xiang hesitated, then reluctantly handed over the robe. Halfway through, he stopped again. “You’re injured, my lord — allow me to help you dress.”
He helped carefully, trying not to brush the raw wounds. When he finished, he discreetly loosened the collar a little.
Cui Jing’s gaze swept over him, and Yuan Xiang forced a grin. “The wound’s still fresh — best not to bind it too tightly…”
Just then, Chang Suining entered.
All the soldiers straightened immediately and saluted. “General of Ningyuan!”
She acknowledged them with a nod and walked straight to Cui Jing, asking the physician about his injuries.
“Fortunately, the wounds missed any vital points, though he’ll need at least a month’s rest,” said Physician Cao, detailing the injuries. He concluded gravely, “Luckily they stopped after thirty lashes. Any more, and his tendons or bones might have been damaged beyond recovery.”
“Thanks to the General of Ningyuan for arriving when she did,” Deputy Commander Yu interjected quickly.
Yuan Xiang opened his mouth to echo the sentiment, but his Grand General spoke first. “You may all leave.”
It was his punishment, yet somehow his subordinates had behaved more dramatically than he had — leaving him with the uneasy sense that if they stayed another moment, something even more absurd might come out of their mouths.
The men reluctantly withdrew.
“You heard them,” said Chang Suining, folding her arms as she regarded him from a few paces away. “Fortunately, I came in time.”
“I heard.” His tone was calm, faintly weary. “I owe you my life — I won’t forget it.”
“No need to speak of saving lives.” She looked him over. “Why did you stay to be punished?”
He was not the kind of man to bow to clan authority — otherwise, there would be no Cui Ling’an incident at all.
“If one means to sever ties, the matter must be done in full measure,” Cui Jing replied. “Had I refused the punishment and simply walked away, they would have pursued and tried to stop me. There would have been bloodshed.”
Such a matter had to end decisively, or the Cui clan’s judgment would be seen as mere pretense.
Moreover, when he knelt to receive the punishment, it had not been to the clan law, but to the family token — the emblem of his grandfather.
No matter how far he strayed from the Cui clan’s way, he could not deny what he owed them: his body, his learning, his early years of cultivation. They had bound his wings — but they had also given them to him.
And to his grandfather, he owed a debt that could never be repaid.
Accepting the lashes, then, had been the least he could do.
Chang Suining understood. In truth, she could empathize. To cut away the bonds of kinship always required peeling back one’s own skin.
But his path was not hers. She said quietly, “It’s not necessarily a bad thing — to end things this way.”
He nodded. He knew that well.
Looking at her — standing there in her azure robe, dark hair tied loosely, sunlight spilling across her shoulder — he suddenly asked, “What was the second choice?”
Before she had handed him her sword, she had said there were two choices: stand and leave with me, or—
“Stay and be beaten half to death,” she replied, as though it were the most natural answer in the world.
He blinked — and then she stepped forward, settling herself casually on a chair before him. “I was teasing you. At the time, I was thinking — either you walk out with me, or I’d knock you unconscious and carry you away.”
Cui Jing’s lips curved faintly. “Then I should be grateful for my good sense. I avoided being beaten unconscious by you.”
“Mm. That’s right,” she said lightly, tilting her chin.
The faint silk of her robe shimmered with embroidered clouds, soft yet radiant — she looked every bit the refined young nobleman she was so often mistaken for.
She finally had a moment to drink her tea. When she set the cup down again, he asked softly, “Then… can you reconsider me now?”
She looked up — and met his earnest gaze.
His voice was low, steady. “I no longer have any attachments. Now, I am free to accompany Your Highness.”
She studied him. He was pale from blood loss, which only made his eyes darker, his expression solemn, almost reverent. Sunlight filtered through the window, gilding his shoulders, as though sanctifying him.
She thought of many things.
Back when they barely knew each other, he had given her a bronze talisman for protection.
At the Hibiscus Banquet, he had quietly defended her.
At the Heavenly Maiden Tower, he had broken the formation on her behalf.
And that day with Xu Zhengye — he had understood her plan and aided her without question.
Always, he had stood beside her.
And even earlier — Wu Jue had once said he sought the jade for her statue.
Old Chang had said he took command of the Xuanzhe Army to shield it for her sake.
Her sword. Her horse. Her Ah Dian.
Everything of hers — he had guarded.
Long before she arrived, he had already been walking toward her.
Their eyes met. His gaze was clear and resolute — not the pull of fate, but a choice made again and again, freely and willingly.
Through blood and storms, through life and death, he had found his way here — to her.
Chang Suining rose and walked to him.
“Since you are free of burdens, and I, too, happen to be alone,” she said, extending her hand, “then let us travel together.”
Cui Jing lifted his hand — their palms met and clasped, sealing a silent oath.
Outside, the green bamboo swayed, whispering in the wind.
After a moment, Chang Suining released his hand and smiled. “I’ll say something rather ungracious — but this time, I suppose I must thank the Cui clan.”
For refusing him — so that he could belong to her.
Once, when he had asked to follow her, she told him she would need to consider it.
Now, after disaster and blood, that hesitation had quietly vanished.
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