Chapter 73: Sleeping in a Coffin

For the past two years, Lou Yanhui had fought tooth and nail to climb the ranks. She had desperately seized every scrap of power she could reach, all for the sake of carving out a future for the two of them.

She had finally achieved it. She had the power now. So why… why did Little Jin no longer love her?

They had promised to be together forever.

Lou Yanhui lowered her gaze to hide the brewing tears. She wanted to draw closer, yet she was terrified of inciting further resentment. She stood frozen, paralyzed by indecision.

While Lou Yanhui remained silent, Luo Yunjin watched her with a gaze that bordered on greedy.

Her eyes were a swirling vortex of joy, sorrow, and a faint, nearly imperceptible thread of agony. Sister Yanhui looked more mature than she remembered, carrying an air of authority that hadn’t been there before.

It’s good, she thought.

This wasn’t the Sister Yanhui from her memories, yet Luo Yunjin felt that if Sister Yanhui were here today, this was exactly how she would look.

Luo Yunjin’s emotions were a tangled mess, but Lou Yanhui didn’t miss that carefully hidden spark of joy. A flicker of hope suddenly ignited in her heart.

Did Little Jin… perhaps… still love her, even just a little?

“Little Jin, I finally have the right to say I love you. Do you still love me?”

Lou Yanhui’s voice was a soft caress. The sharp, cold lines of her face softened until they were as gentle as still water. She waited, desperate for a response. Even if there was only a tiny bit of love buried under a mountain of hate, she would take it.

She would spend the rest of her life making up for the two years they had lost. She would atone for her past cowardice. As long as… as long as there was still a small place for her in Little Jin’s heart.

Luo Yunjin, whose entire world was currently filled by Lou Yanhui’s presence, heard the question clearly. However, her expression didn’t change.

She had learned through experience that if she drank enough, there was a chance she would see her sister. If she saw her, there was a chance she would hear her sister calling her name, whispering the very words her heart yearned for most. She was used to this.

The only difference was that today, the voice didn’t sound ethereal or distant, like a call from beyond the clouds. Instead, it felt as if someone were truly standing before her, leaning down to whisper directly into her ear.

Her sister felt so real today. Surrounded by that familiar scent, Luo Yunjin squinted her eyes in contentment. Before her brain could even process a command, her hand moved instinctively, clutching the hem of Lou Yanhui’s robe.

Lou Yanhui reacted instantly, reaching out to wrap her fingers around that pale, slender hand, shielding it within her palm.

Feeling the warmth spreading through the back of her hand, a soft, gentle smile played across Luo Yunjin’s lips. This dream is so vivid. I like it.

However, the dizzying fog in her head and the churning pain in her stomach made it impossible for her to keep looking at the woman.

“Cough, cough…” Luo Yunjin couldn’t suppress the itch in her throat and let out a soft rasp.

“What’s wrong?” Lou Yanhui stepped forward, taking the wine jar from her and pulling her into a protective embrace.

“Sister Yanhui…” Luo Yunjin murmured.

Without waiting for a reply, she urgently grabbed Lou Yanhui’s hand and rolled over.

Lou Yanhui watched in brief, stunned silence as Luo Yunjin lifted her legs, struggling to climb into the coffin. Before she could react, she was pulled forward by a sudden, frantic strength. Worried she might accidentally crush the girl, Lou Yanhui followed her lead and climbed in as well.

The interior of the coffin was surprisingly spacious; even with the two of them lying side-by-side, it wasn’t cramped.

“Let’s sleep,” Luo Yunjin said with a pained smile, her eyes already fluttering shut.

This is wonderful. I get to sleep with Sister Yanhui again.

She had considered calling for Jiuming to close the lid, but she was too exhausted. Maybe next time. With that final thought, she drifted into unconsciousness.

Lou Yanhui didn’t lie down. Instead, she sat up to examine the contents of the “bed.”

Brocade quilts and cushions were neatly arranged—it was clear that someone slept here regularly. Beside Little Jin lay a beautifully wrapped scroll, currently pinned beneath the girl’s leg due to her awkward position.

Two small sandalwood boxes, about half a foot tall, had been used as makeshift pillows. Lou Yanhui carefully opened one of them, only to find the contents achingly familiar.

To Luo Yunjin, for her eyes only.

To Luo Yunjin, for her eyes only.

To Little Jin, for her eyes only.

Each letter was stacked with meticulous care. And every single one remained sealed.

No wonder her letters had never received a response. Little Jin had never even opened them.

Has she truly let me go?

The thought flashed through Lou Yanhui’s mind, but she dismissed it just as quickly. If Little Jin had truly moved on, she wouldn’t have brought these letters into her coffin.

Her gaze darkened as she looked around the casket again. Why did Little Jin have a coffin in her main hall? Why did she sleep here? Was her health failing, or was it…

Lou Yanhui closed her eyes, fighting to remain calm. She had a thousand questions, but Little Jin wasn’t in any state to answer them.

Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to the girl’s furrowed brow. She gently slid the scroll out from under her legs and unrolled it.

As expected, it was her portrait. It was a painting of her from three years ago, her expression still carrying a hint of youthful innocence. The gentle tilt of her head in the painting was enough to make one’s heart ache.

She remembered this. It was the first portrait Little Jin had ever painted of her, after weeks of persistent pestering. After Little Jin had left the Western Regions, Lou Yanhui had searched her residence for a long time but couldn’t find it.

It turned out the girl had taken it with her. All the way into a coffin.

The veins on the back of Lou Yanhui’s hand bulged as she gripped the edge of the wood. Watching the girl’s fitful sleep, she decided to carry her out. How could she let her stay here?

She pressed a tender kiss to the girl’s messy hair, braced herself against the side of the coffin, and leaped out. Then, she reached back in to lift Luo Yunjin.

However, before she could straighten her back, the girl—who had been sleeping restlessly—snapped her eyes open.

Though still clearly drunk, her eyes brightened the moment she saw Lou Yanhui’s face. She began to struggle, trying to pull Lou Yanhui back into the depths of the coffin with her.

Left with no other choice, Lou Yanhui reached out and struck her sleep-inducing acupoint.

Just as she was about to turn and carry her to the bed, a ghost-like shadow appeared behind her.

Accompanied by a heavy sigh, Jiuming’s cold voice rang out: “It’s no use. If you take her out, my Mistress won’t be able to sleep peacefully.”

Lou Yanhui’s heart throbbed with a sharp pang. “How did it come to this?” she asked, her voice rasping with emotion. “What has happened over these past two years?”

How had her Little Jin become like this?

Jiuming remained silent, narrowing her eyes as she observed Lou Yanhui’s reaction. The suspicions she’d harbored began to solidify. Perhaps her Mistress truly had misunderstood the Princess of the Western Regions.

But what did it matter now? It was a fact that her Mistress had suffered because of this woman. It was a fact that her Mistress’s health was in shambles.

After a moment of deliberation, Jiuming replied, “You should ask those questions yourself once my Mistress wakes up, Princess. It is not my place to say.”

She glanced at her Mistress, who was now sleeping soundly in the Princess’s arms, then turned and vanished into the shadows.