Chapter 319: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 319: Shut Up, I Can Cry on My Own (求月票)
As Cui Lang’s carriage halted, Qiao Yubai, Hu Yi, and nearly twenty academy students gathered around it.
They were all his close friends—most of them from humble origins—and in this politically sensitive time, their presence here to see him off spoke volumes of their friendship.
The carriage that carried Cui Lang appeared simple on the outside, but inside it was furnished with great care and comfort.
His back injury had yet to heal, so he lay face down on the soft couch, propping himself up on his elbows. When he saw his friends crowding around, his heart swelled with emotion.
Since Grand General Cui had been expelled from the family, Cui Lang had stood against the rest of the clan for quite some time—though, truthfully, no one in the family had cared about his stance. In other words, it was a one-sided struggle.
During his convalescence, whenever a relative came to visit, he refused to speak a single word. He was determined to make the entire Cui family believe that he had been wounded to the core—heartbroken, disillusioned, and utterly changed.
He would let them see that the once bright, cheerful Sixth Young Master Cui was dead; what remained was a cold, detached, indifferent shell of a man.
But now, seeing all his fellow students, his lip trembled, and his eyes almost filled with tears.
When Qiao Yubai asked gently, “Does the wound still hurt?” Cui Lang whimpered, “You don’t understand… it hurts so much! I haven’t had a single good night’s sleep!”
Beside him, Yi Hu quietly exhaled in relief. His young master wasn’t dying of pain—he was dying of holding back his words.
These past days, the young master had hardly spoken at all; one could count his sentences on a single hand. Even Madam herself had said that since giving birth to him, she had never seen him this quiet before—it was, frankly, terrifying.
Even if his silence was an act, to have maintained it for this long was impressive. At least he was no longer that noisy, restless monkey who couldn’t sit still even for a moment.
Yi Hu remembered Madam’s tone when she said this—complicated, somewhere between admiration and disbelief.
“Right…” Amid his friends’ concern, Cui Lang suddenly asked Qiao Yubai the question that had weighed on his heart: “Brother Qiao, I heard that Young Miss Qiao’s eye illness has been cured. Is that true?”
“Of course it’s true! We’ve all seen her ourselves!” one of the students chimed in.
Qiao Yubai also nodded.
Cui Lang’s face lit up with joy. “That’s truly wonderful news!”
It was the best thing he could imagine—the very miracle he had prayed for in his dreams.
If only he could congratulate her in person… but alas, that was impossible.
Still, he was genuinely happy for her. “Truly happy,” he told himself.
“…And Young Miss Qiao herself is here today!” Hu Yi’s voice rang out, turning toward the approaching figure. “Miss Qiao! Over here!”
Cui Lang froze in shock.
At Hu Yi’s call, the other students all turned toward her.
Though Da Sheng had always been patriarchal, its history was unique—there had once been another female sovereign besides the present Holy Emperor. That single precedent, though short-lived, had forever altered the realm’s perception of women.
But precisely because of that, many sought to suppress women even more fiercely, determined to keep such “unruliness” from rising again.
Since her enthronement, the Holy Emperor had been mired in political struggles, too burdened to openly champion women’s rights. Yet her very existence served as a banner for them.
Thus, the position of women in Da Sheng constantly swayed between progress and repression.
Among those who had both the will and the ability to fight for women’s freedom stood Wu Chunbai.
It was, in fact, this conviction that had first drawn her toward Chang Suining—through her, Wu Chunbai saw the proof that such strength and independence were possible.
In recent months, Wu Chunbai had used Ningyuan General’s achievements to inspire change among the women of the capital. She organized poetry gatherings and spring banquets, using stories and admiration to encourage courage—and through that courage, influence.
Her cause had taken root like wild grass, spreading quietly on the spring wind through the capital’s streets.
Now, beyond the city gates, one could see many young ladies riding out to admire the summer scenery. The early heat had already arrived, and some had even removed their veils entirely, letting the sunlight touch their faces.
Among this lively bustle, Qiao Yumian’s presence was not out of place at all.
But when so many eyes turned toward her, Qiao Yumian still felt a twinge of guilt—one she understood all too well.
Even so, she did not hesitate long. Taking Xiao Qiu with her, she walked straight toward the carriage.
Inside, Cui Lang peered anxiously through the narrow gaps between his friends’ shoulders. When he saw that green, graceful figure approaching, his heart leapt into his throat.
In a panic, he lurched forward and yanked the carriage curtain down with a sharp swish.
Yi Hu nearly jumped out of his skin. “Young Master—!”
“No—no, she mustn’t see me like this!” Cui Lang hissed in terror.
This was her first time seeing him—did she not know how important first impressions were?!
He was gaunt, pale, disheveled, lying in a carriage like some sickly ghost—how could he possibly let her see him like this?
Yi Hu, who long suspected his young master’s feelings, hurried to reassure him. “Young Master need not worry! You have an excellent foundation—your looks will always shine through!”
Cui Lang touched his sunken cheek skeptically. “What foundation? The foundation of a dying ghost? The coffin-maker might appreciate it more than she will!”
“No, no, absolutely not…” He tugged the curtain tighter, even turning his face toward the carriage wall. His heart pounded so loud he thought it might burst.
As Qiao Yumian approached, the crowd of students politely made way.
Staring at the lowered curtain, Qiao Yumian hesitated, then said softly to her brother, “Brother, I wish to speak with Sixth Young Master Cui alone. May I?”
Qiao Yubai was taken aback, but he had never been one to refuse his sister. After a moment, he nodded and led Hu Yi and the others a short distance away.
Silence fell around the carriage.
“Your injury…”
“Your eyes—”
They spoke at the same time, then stopped, startled by the coincidence.
Cui Lang was the first to continue, “My wounds are much better now.”
“That’s good,” said Qiao Yumian earnestly. “And my eyes… I can see now.”
“I told you, didn’t I? I said this day would come!” His voice was bright with genuine joy. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”
She nodded. She still remembered that day when she’d fled to the lotus pond in tears. He had told her that the pond looked unlike any other in the world. When she asked him what made it different, he had replied, “You’ll know when your eyes are healed.”
Now she said softly, “I’ve seen the pond.”
She looked toward the curtain and, gathering her courage, asked, “May I… see you?”
Cui Lang’s heart thundered. Without thinking, he blurted, “No! No, you can’t!”
Qiao Yumian froze in place.
A voice came from within the carriage once more—flustered, trying to sound composed.
“…My attire is disheveled. I fear it may offend or startle you.”
Qiao Yumian wanted to say, it won’t, but after a pause, she chose to respect his words. She nodded lightly and asked, “Then… will you return to the capital again?”
“Of course!” Cui Lang said at once. “I’ll definitely come back!”
In the corner, Yi Hu huddled, trying to make himself invisible. He glanced sideways at his young master, thinking: That’s not what you said at home, Young Master.
Hadn’t he sworn bitterly that he would never set foot in the capital again? That he wanted nothing to do with the Cui family—that even in death, he’d never come back?
But now, his two-faced young master was saying warmly, “Once I reach Qinghe, I’ll write to you—and to your brother—right away!”
Qiao Yumian nodded. “Good. Then my brother and I will write you back. I can write letters on my own now.”
She added honestly, “Though my handwriting is still ugly. I must practice more—it’s hardly presentable at the moment.”
“Impossible!” Cui Lang protested at once.
How could anything of hers ever be ugly? There wasn’t a single thing about her that could be tied to that word.
Qiao Yumian smiled faintly, then said, “By the way… I’m learning medicine now, under Physician Sun.”
She was not someone who spoke much by nature, but at this moment, she had so many things she wanted to tell him—so many pieces of her life to share. Yet time was short, so she could only pick the most important ones.
“That’s wonderful!” Cui Lang exclaimed. Every word about her filled him with warmth. “You’re intelligent and meticulous—you’ll surely succeed!”
“Then… do you plan to open your own clinic someday?” he asked, his tone filled with genuine anticipation for her bright future. “If you do, I’ll never see another physician again. I’ll visit every day to support your practice!”
Yi Hu nearly choked. Not every place is meant for daily visits, you know!
“…” Qiao Yumian, too, was startled. She gently corrected him, “You mustn’t say such things. One’s body is a gift from one’s parents—it should be treated with reverence.”
Cui Lang blinked, then chuckled. “Well, well… Lady Qiao now speaks like a true physician who heals the world.”
But his smile quickly dimmed.
She had always been extraordinary. Now that her eyesight had recovered, her future would only shine brighter.
Not long ago, he had thought that when her eyes finally healed, he would confess the words he had kept buried in his heart. But now, the timing felt… wrong.
Aside from his current bedraggled state, there was also the matter of the Cui family’s uncertain fate.
Though he resented his kin, he was still a son of the Cui clan. Unlike his elder brother, he had benefited from the family’s standing all his life without ever giving anything back. That debt of blood and name was something he could not simply abandon.
So, if fortune allowed, he would of course return to the capital someday—but if he could not…
Cui Lang’s thoughts tangled and fell silent.
Just then, a servant approached to remind him it was time to depart. They could not delay any longer.
Qiao Yumian’s fingers tightened on her sleeve. She said softly, “Sixth Young Master Cui, take care of yourself.”
“You too!” Cui Lang replied, voice thick. “I’ll write often—to the Imperial Academy!”
It was, perhaps, the only promise he could still make.
“Alright.” Qiao Yumian nodded. “My brother and I will be waiting for your letters.”
“Mm!” Cui Lang’s nose stung. He buried his face in the pillow, drew in a deep breath, then lifted his head and called loudly through the curtain, “Brother Qiao, Hu Yi, Wang Zeyu—everyone—I’m off!”
Qiao Yubai and the others stepped forward, waving toward the carriage. “Take care!” they called one after another.
Qiao Yumian stood aside as the carriage began to move.
The wheels rolled smoothly along the straight road, turning again and again. She had just turned away when a familiar voice rang out behind her.
“Lady Qiao! Take care—all of you!”
Startled, Qiao Yumian turned back. From the side window of the carriage, a figure leaned halfway out, waving.
Cui Lang met her eyes from afar. As the carriage moved further away, he raised his voice again.
“And also—!”
Everyone stilled to listen.
“I don’t normally look like this!” Cui Lang shouted. “Brother Qiao and the others can vouch for me—I’m much more handsome than this on ordinary days!”
The words burst out before he could stop himself. Her earlier voice—May I see you?—still echoed in his ears. Without thinking, he had run his hand through his hair, sat up, and leaned out the window.
He pressed down the ache in his chest and grinned at her.
Qiao Yumian squinted, trying to make out his face—but her newly healed eyes could not yet see clearly at such a distance.
Still, she understood—he didn’t want her to leave disappointed.
So she pretended she could see him clearly, smiled brightly, and waved back, watching as the carriage grew smaller and smaller until it faded into the horizon.
“Careful, Young Master…”
Inside, Yi Hu hurriedly helped the exhausted Cui Lang lie back down.
Cui Lang lay face-down again, his brows drooping, thoughts in turmoil.
Yi Hu sighed. “No wonder people say—adults are never truly at ease, and those at ease never truly grow up.”
Cui Lang cracked one eye open and scowled. “And how old are you, exactly?”
“Ah…” Yi Hu sighed again, then suddenly grew teary. His voice thickened. “I just can’t help it, Young Master. The world changes too fast. The Zheng family’s gone, Eldest Young Master’s been cast out, and now you’re heading to Qinghe with an uncertain road ahead… Leaving your friends, your lady, your home—who knows when you’ll meet again?”
His voice broke, and soon he was crying outright.
“Shut up!” Cui Lang barked, glaring at him.
Then his own mouth wobbled, and all the emotion he had buried these days finally burst forth. “I—I can cry by myself!”
And with that, he snatched up Da Huang, hugging the dog tightly as tears spilled down his cheeks.
The master and servant wept together in the carriage, holding the confused dog, while the driver up front heard everything but wisely chose to say nothing.
…
Qiao Yumian soon returned to the city with her brother.
Qiao Yubai and the others had only taken leave for the day—they still had to hurry back to the Imperial Academy.
Qiao Yumian, however, did not go with them. She was heading to Xingning Ward.
Xiao Qiu, seeing her mistress’s quiet expression, whispered, “Lady, perhaps we rest today instead? If you don’t go, Physician Sun won’t blame you.”
“My teacher may not say so aloud, but I know he has prepared much for me today,” Qiao Yumian said softly. “I should still go.”
Letters could wait. But life must go on.
Partings were part of fate.
Beyond them, one still had to live sincerely.
Meanwhile, far away in Bian Prefecture, others too were saying their goodbyes—Chang Suining and Xiao Min were preparing to lead their army south, to join forces with Chang Kuo in Jiangnan.
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