She Came to Heal, Stayed to Conquer

The tavern’s waiter was just about to respond when the shopkeeper Yang Haibo personally walked in with a tray.

Yang Haibo’s eyes, usually lively and spirited under his thick eyebrows, were now filled with worry.

“Tong, what’s wrong with you?” Yang Haibo put down the newly added wine and dishes, casually took away a few empty pots, and frowned deeply, “You’ve been drinking since noon; did something go wrong at the Brocade Workshop?”

Tang Xiaotong lifted his muddled, drunken eyes, pulling out a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth.

He was naturally handsome and delicate, and now his cheeks blushed from the alcohol, making his face appear even more like jade.

Yet the eyes, usually filled with laughter, were now drenched in unmeltable sorrow.

“Brother!” his voice was hoarse, fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the wine cup, “I… I fear I’ve made a grave mistake…”

Yang Haibo’s heart tightened upon hearing this, and he quickly sat down across from him.

Lowering his voice, he asked, “What’s happened? We’ve known each other for years; what can’t you tell me?”

The private room fell silent, and only the occasional sound of hooves and street vendors’ cries from outside the window could be heard.

Tang Xiaotong took a deep breath, suddenly downing a cup of wine, the spicy liquid slipped past his throat but couldn’t extinguish the fire in his heart.

“I’ve fallen for someone.” He finally spoke, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible, “Someone… I shouldn’t love.”

Yang Haibo heaved a sigh of relief, smiling as he patted his shoulder, “I thought it was something serious! Romance between men and women is perfectly normal; which lady has got you so entranced? Tomorrow, I’ll arrange a matchmaker for the marriage!”

Tang Xiaotong shook his head, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes, “Can’t be said… can’t be asked for… and… can’t be married.”

“Who is it?” Yang Haibo became increasingly curious at his demeanor.

Tang Xiaotong closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, determination filled his eyes, “It’s… Princess Yujia from the Turkic lands.”

“What?!” Yang Haibo jumped up from his stool in shock, almost knocking over the wine pot.

He rushed forward, covering Tang Xiaotong’s mouth, his face turning pale.

“Tong, are you crazy?! How can you dare say such things!”

Speaking, he quickly shut the door, checked the windows to ensure they were secure, and returned to the table, tiny beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

Tang Xiaotong bitterly smiled and poured himself another glass of wine, “I know… I know it’s a grave insult. But I can’t control this heart, brother…”

Yang Haibo sat heavily, his nervous voice pressed very low.

“Tong, don’t you care for your life? Wake up! Princess Yujia is entering the palace to become a consort tomorrow; this is… this is a matter of losing your head!”

“Don’t I know?” Tang Xiaotong tilted his head back, drinking the wine in his cup, his throat moving as a clear tear quietly slid down.

The Drunken Immortal Brew is fifty-two degrees, but at this moment, only such a strong wine seemed to be able to take away the sorrow in his heart.

“Ever since the day the princess came to the Brocade Workshop to choose clothes, at first sight… I couldn’t pull myself away.”

His voice gradually drifted, as if returning to that sunny afternoon.

Princess Yujia dressed in Turkic attire, without a jade hairpin but adorned with wildflowers, more dazzling than all the beautiful silks in the shop.

As her fingertips lightly brushed those silks and satins, Tang Xiaotong felt his heartbeat so fast it seemed unreasonable.

“She picked a few cheongsams, saying she wanted to embroider them with gesang flowers from outside the borders…” Tang Xiaotong murmured, his eyes misty, “Later she often came to the shop, sometimes to modify the skirt’s design, sometimes just… just to look at new materials. Each time, she would chat with me a little…”

Yang Haibo listened, heart pounding, “You… you didn’t…”

“There’s nothing going on!” Tang Xiaotong suddenly raised his head, a hint of clarity in his drunken eyes, “How dare I overstep? Just… just watching her smile from the side, listening to her speak, I felt… felt that my life was enough.”

Tang Xiaotong spoke, and his voice lowered again.

“I know what I am… just a small shopkeeper at a silk store, how would I be worthy of a princess of noble birth? But this heart… this heart doesn’t listen to commands…”

Yang Haibo looked at his appearance, feeling anxious and pained.

Because his family was poor, he himself had reached the age for marriage but had not yet wed, deeply understanding the bitterness of longing, but Tang Xiaotong’s situation was not just a matter of social disparity, it was a life-threatening issue!

“Tong, my brother, listen to your elder brother’s advice.” Yang Haibo grasped his trembling hand, “Cut off this thought as early as possible. Tomorrow the princess enters the palace, you should pretend you’ve never seen her, never…”

“How can I pretend I’ve never seen her?” Tang Xiaotong turned to look at him, eyes glistening with tears.

“Every smile she left at the Brocade Workshop, every word she said, I remember clearly! She said the sky in the Turkic lands is bluer than in the Capital City, said the wind on the grasslands carried the fragrance of the grass… she said… said after marrying into the palace, she might never see me again, never see that kind of sky again…”

At this point, Tang Xiaotong could no longer bear it, collapsing onto the table in heart-wrenching sobs.

The suppressed sobbing was like a dull knife, stabbing Yang Haibo’s heart over and over.

“I hate… hate myself for being powerless…”