Palace Eaves

"Fourteenth Beile, please save my mistress!" Sumala trembled with fear, her entire body shaking. If she hadn't tripped and fallen earlier, her mistress would have already led her away. Now, seeing Da Yuer abducted and her red cloak flailing in the cold wind as it hung on a branch, Sumala was overwhelmed with guilt and desperation, wishing she could trade her life to bring her mistress back.

"Qiqige, all of you must leave. I won't allow anyone else to become a liability," Dorgon said coldly to his wife. "If that man decides to flee down the mountain and takes you hostage, all our efforts will be wasted."

"Understood. I'll do as you say," Qiqige replied immediately. She grasped Sumala's hand and urged her, "Come with me. We'll wait for Yuer to return."

"But... Fourteenth Consort..." Sumala hesitated, her voice trembling.

Dorgon paid no further attention to them and began climbing the slope alone. He retrieved Da Yuer's red cloak from the tree branch and surveyed the surroundings, analyzing the terrain.

Being familiar with the area, he quickly discerned the direction of the footprints and the disturbances among the plants. He descended the slope and ordered his personal guards, "Surround the base of the mountain. Do not let that scoundrel escape."

"My Lord, are you going up the mountain alone?" one of the guards asked nervously. "I fear there may be an ambush up there."

Dorgon sneered, "This barren mountain offers no place to hide. If a single pest managed to sneak in here, it's already an insult. If they had hidden dozens or hundreds of men under my watch, I'd be unfit to lead an army or fight a war. You'll stay here. Too many men going up might provoke him into harming Consort Yu."

The guards dared not argue further. They retreated as ordered, securing the mountain's base. Dorgon glanced at the red cloak in his hand, then wrapped it around his arm. Following the trail of footprints and broken branches, he set off determinedly.

Up on the freezing mountain, with strong winds howling, the man in white was visibly struggling against the cold. He dragged Da Yuer to a sheltered spot, muttering curses under his breath.

His body shivered uncontrollably, and his movements grew clumsy. Spotting Da Yuer's thick cotton jacket, he furrowed his brows and reached out to unbutton it.

"What are you doing?" Da Yuer clutched her chest defensively, instinctively fearing violation. But in this icy wilderness, it was clear that such thoughts were far from anyone's mind.

"You wretch, you're asking for death!" the man spat, striking Da Yuer across the face. He yanked her hands away, determined to tear open her jacket. When she resisted fiercely, he drew his blade, intending to kill her. But he hesitated—keeping her alive might still serve as leverage against Dorgon. For now, survival was his priority.

In that brief moment of indecision, Da Yuer lunged forward and bit his hand. The man cried out in pain and flung her away. She tumbled backward, hitting the slope and rolling uncontrollably down the hillside.

Dorgon, hearing the commotion and the heavy thud, felt his heart leap into his throat. He rushed toward the source of the noise and spotted a masked man in white holding a dagger. Snow was flying up from the slope below. Could it be that he had thrown Da Yuer down the hill?

The murderous man charged at Dorgon, but within moments, Dorgon had him pinned to the ground. The masked man stood no chance; he collapsed, unconscious, after a few swift blows.

"Yuer..." Dorgon followed the trail of her fall, panic tightening his chest. The recent storms had left snow drifts half a man deep at the base of the slope. If she had fallen into one, she might be trapped, unable to climb out. Another snowfall could bury her entirely.

As Da Yuer rolled down, she had instinctively reached out to grab at anything for support. The brittle branches of dead shrubs tore into her hands, leaving deep, bloody gashes. Dorgon, drawing closer, spotted patches of vivid red on the white snow. His heart nearly stopped.

Finally, he saw her—a small figure half-buried in a snowbank, her jacket torn open to reveal only her thin inner garments.

"Yuer! Yuer!" Dorgon leapt into the snow, which swallowed him up to his knees. He unwound the red cloak from his arm and gently pulled Da Yuer out of the icy grave. Stumbling and sinking into the drifts, he carried her up the slope with all his strength.

"Yuer, wake up! Don't sleep—you can't sleep here; it's too cold." His voice trembled with urgency. Reaching a safe spot, he shed his own cloak, wrapping it tightly around her. He gently slapped her cheeks, desperate to rouse her.

"Yuer... Yuer..."

Da Yuer stirred faintly, her thoughts hazy. Who was calling her Yuer? That wasn't her name—she was Bumubutai. But then she remembered: who had first called her Yuer? It was Hong Taiji, her husband, her love, her sky.

She recalled how he had once asked her, Is Shengjing better, or the grasslands? She hadn't answered him yet. She wanted to tell him...

"Yuer, wake up!" Dorgon shouted, pressing hard on her philtrum. A sharp pain jolted through her, and at last, her eyes fluttered open.

She gazed blankly at Dorgon's face, her vision clearing slowly. Seeing her awake, Dorgon let out a sigh of immense relief.

"You're awake... thank heaven, you're awake," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

Dorgon signalled for his troops, and soon, his personal guards arrived at the scene. Observing the situation, they immediately began to remove their coats to offer him one. However, Dorgon bellowed, "Restrain that scoundrel! Keep him alive. Wake him up, but under no circumstances is he to meet or be questioned by anyone but me—not even the Great Khan. Understood?"

The soldiers obeyed, binding the white-clad man and carrying him down the mountain. Meanwhile, Dorgon carefully cradled Da Yuer as he descended. Mounting his horse, he held her tightly in his arms while a soldier led the horse steadily back to the camp.

Upon reaching the camp, Qiqige and Sumala ran up to meet them. Seeing Da Yuer alive, they both breathed a sigh of relief. Together, they helped carry her into the barracks. As they unwrapped her from the layers of cloaks and blankets, they noticed her clothing was torn.

Initially, everyone assumed the attacker had tried to violate her. But on reflection, they realized he likely wanted to strip her for warmth in the bitter cold of the mountain.

Her hands were covered in cuts, but thankfully her thick winter clothing had protected her body, and the deep snow had cushioned her fall. However, Dorgon now noticed a gash on her chin, and his fists clenched audibly in fury.

When Sumala tried to help remove Da Yuer's damaged clothes, she recoiled in terror, clutching at her chest. Tears streamed down Sumala's face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Dorgon, his expression frigid, turned to Qiqige, who had managed to maintain her composure. "We will take care of Yuer," Qiqige said gently. "You should think about how to report this to the Great Khan."

Dorgon nodded curtly. "I'll also send in a brazier to warm this place." His eyes glinted coldly as he turned and strode out.

Sumala continued to cry, her hands trembling as she whispered, "Miss…" Qiqige knelt beside Da Yuer, taking her hand. Seeing the vacant, frightened look in her eyes, Qiqige felt her heart ache. She spoke softly, "Yuer, don't be afraid. It's over now. You're safe."

Meanwhile, in the palace, Hairanju was getting out of bed for the first time in two days. Baoqing helped her into her shoes, but as her fingers lingered on the fabric, a wave of unease swept through her, and her body trembled.

Hong Taiji stood nearby and noticed her reaction. "Feeling weak?" he asked. "Even if you are, it's better to move around. Staying in bed too long will only make you weaker."

Hairanju smiled faintly and slipped her foot into a soft, dry cotton boot. The warmth steadied her nerves.

Hong Taiji supported her as she walked two slow laps around the room, though each step left her winded. Finally, she looked up at him, her face pale and pleading. "Great Khan, I can't go on," she murmured, swaying slightly.

Hong Taiji helped her back to bed, carefully tucking the blankets around her. His worry was evident as he said, "The physician claimed you caught a chill. But how could you? Was it… something we did at night?"

Understanding his implication, Hairanju flushed scarlet, lowering her gaze in embarrassment. Seeing her reaction, Hong Taiji chuckled softly and teased, "I was joking, my dear. But you must be careful—your health is fragile."

His tone shifted as he turned to Baoqing, his expression stern. "If she catches another chill because of your carelessness, I'll send you to work as a servant in the scullery."

Baoqing's legs gave way as she knelt, begging Hong Taiji for mercy. Even Hairanju spoke up to intercede: "My health is poor—how can you blame her for that? Great Khan, for my sake, please forgive her."

Despite his lingering anger, Hong Taiji retorted coldly, "That night, I should have made her kneel outside a while longer—maybe then she'd have learned her lesson."

Before he could say more, Niman hurried in, his face tense with urgency. "Great Khan, Consort Yu has met with trouble outside the city."

Hong Taiji immediately stood and asked, "What happened? Where is she now?"

Niman succinctly relayed the situation. He wasn't privy to all the details and could only provide a rough explanation: Consort Yu had been abducted and had rolled down a hillside. Upon hearing this, Hong Taiji's brow furrowed so tightly it seemed it might knot together.

"I'll go fetch Yuer. You stay here and take care of yourself," Hong Taiji said to Hairanju. "Don't let this upset you and cause another illness."

Hairanju nodded repeatedly, her expression filled with worry. She implored, "Yuer must have been terrified. Great Khan, please… don't scold her again."

Huang Taiji's heart sank. Even Hairanju felt the need to plead for Yuer. Was he truly so harsh that every time she was in trouble, all he did was reprimand her?

At the military camp on the outskirts of the city, a brazier burned warmly inside the barracks. Qiqige and Sumala were both sweating from the heat, but Da Yuer's hands and feet remained icy cold, as if frozen. She sat mute and motionless, like someone petrified.

Sumala had been trying to speak with her for ages without receiving a single response. Worried, she quietly asked Qiqige, "Consort, could Miss have been frightened out of her senses?"

Qiqige, however, replied, "She's likely overwhelmed with regret. Though this wasn't her fault, causing such a commotion and alarming the Great Khan—she must be thinking about how she always ends up in trouble. No wonder the Great Consort scolds her for not being able to sit still."

Feeling indignant, Sumala said, "Miss never causes trouble—trouble always finds her."

Qiqige gave a wry smile. "That's why you have to take good care of her."

As they kept vigil over Da Yuer, faint noises came from outside. Soon after, the sound of men saluting the Great Khan reached their ears. Qiqige and Sumala exchanged a glance and quickly stood, leaving the barracks.

Sure enough, the doors opened moments later, and Hong Taiji stormed in, bringing a gust of icy wind with him.

The chill in the air made Da Yuer involuntarily lift her head toward the door. When she saw Hong Taiji enter, her body trembled uncontrollably, though even she didn't know why.

Hong Taiji noticed her shiver and immediately realized she was afraid he would scold her. Though anger simmered in his chest, it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of pity. He strode to her bedside in a few quick steps and leaned in, catching sight of the wound on her chin. Reaching out, he gently touched the injury. "Does it hurt?"

Da Yuer stiffly nodded, finally speaking in a voice choked with tears: "I've caused trouble again… I'm sorry…"

Hong Taiji's eyes burned with emotion, and it felt as if his heart had been hollowed out. He pulled her into his arms tightly. "You didn't cause any trouble, Yuer. Don't be afraid. I'm here."

At the doorway stood Dorgon, silent and unmoving. On the mountain, he had called out "Yuer" countless times, yet the person in his arms gave no response. But at the sound of Hong Taiji's single "Yuer," the lifeless face before him seemed to light up with vitality.

Was it that he could never enter Da Yuer's heart? Was it that even if Hong Taiji were to die this very instant, he, Dorgon, would still be unable to make her look his way?

"We should leave," Qiqige said as she stepped forward. She gently took Sumala by the arm. "When the Great Khan summons us, we'll come back in."

One by one, the people in the room gradually filed out. Inside, Hong Taiji carefully examined Yuer's injuries. Through her soft sobs, Da Yuer said, "I wasn't scared. I was so brave."