Chapter 50

Time flies, and before one knows it, another season has passed.

The cold wind howls, and frost and snow dance, as the new year begins in January, bringing endless desolation and cold waves to the northern land. As a result, the Japanese army was forced to temporarily halt its offensive, and the Qing Dynasty finally had a moment to catch its breath. The land battle between the two sides came to a temporary halt. Under the relentless attacks of two Japanese armies, the Qing's Yalu River defense line had long been breached, and half of the Liaodong Peninsula fell into Japanese hands. If the Japanese had not wanted to fight to the bitter end with the Qing but instead sought to gain more benefits through negotiations, the mausoleum in Fengtian (Shenyang), where the Qing founding emperor Nurhaci was buried, would have been occupied by the Japanese, and they would have carried out the desecration of his remains.

The north wind moans, as if weeping and lamenting. Even though they were inside a closed room, the coldness seeped through the windows, piercing deep into their bodies.

It was the depths of winter, cold and bone-chilling. Snow, dressed in mink fur and wrapped in a scarf, showed no joy on her face, and even the white cat ears on her head drooped listlessly.

Facing her, Qingying sat opposite, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle, filled instead with sorrow and melancholy.

Due to the deteriorating situation on the front lines, the slight advantage of the Qing navy was completely nullified by Japan's guerrilla tactics. The Qing Dynasty could no longer continue the war. On January 7, 1895, Li Hongzhang, the Viceroy of the Beiyang, led a group of Qing officials to travel to Shimonoseki, Japan, for peace talks. The news spread throughout the capital in a single day. For the common people, who had suffered from the war, the cessation of hostilities was undoubtedly the best outcome; but for Qingying and Snow, the moment the war ended was the moment they had to part.

Before this, the Qing court had sent some secondary officials to Japan to negotiate surrender, but all attempts failed due to mutual distrust. This time, the Qing court's decision to send Li Hongzhang, who was in charge of the overall situation, was a clear sign of their eagerness to surrender. Emperor Wilhelm II of Germany also sent a telegram, instructing Qingying to prepare his luggage, ready to leave immediately once the ceasefire agreement was signed.

Qingying could not possibly take Snow with him on this trip, and this parting would likely mean they would never see each other again. Snow had not smiled for several days, and Qingying, despite his experience with many partings and reunions, felt a heavy stone in his heart, bitter and indescribable.

Unable to find the right words to comfort Snow, the once lively and joyful courtyard had quietly faded away, leaving only two soulless bodies, lost in the present and reminiscing about the past.

The fire in the stove burned brightly, bringing warmth like spring, but it could not melt the cold in their hearts.

"Tell me, what are the chances that Li Hongzhang will sign a ceasefire treaty?" After a long silence, Snow suddenly spoke, her voice filled with nine-tenths disappointment and a faint, weak hope.

Qingying felt a pang of bitterness. He knew Snow needed a comforting lie, but if he gave her one, it would only provide temporary relief, and the emotional outburst on the day of their parting would be even more intense. Looking at Snow's delicate and pitiful face, Qingying took a deep breath and said softly, "The signing of a ceasefire treaty is almost a certainty."

Before he finished speaking, Qingying saw the faint glimmer of hope in Snow's eyes quickly fade away.

The clock pendulum swung gently, the fire flickered, and the sandalwood incense filled the air. In the faint ticking sound, Qingying's voice, now slightly hoarse but still magnetic, slowly rose: "Apart from Li Hongzhang, from the perspective of the European powers, most of them are also happy to see this war end rather than continue indefinitely between the Qing and Japan."

"Why is that?" Snow's voice drifted again, devoid of any hope.

Qingying glanced at Snow, seeing no signs of abnormality, and continued, "As early as the tenth year of Emperor Xianfeng's reign, Russia had seized large territories from the Qing. After more than thirty years of planning, they have long considered the Qing's Northeast region as their future territory, and they will not allow foreign forces to intrude. My uncle, Tsar Nicholas, who recently ascended to the throne, was nearly assassinated in Japan three years ago. With Japan now occupying most of Liaodong, they have crossed Russia's red line. For both public and personal reasons, he will show Japan a lesson and will not allow them to further encroach on the Qing's Northeast. With Japan's current strength, they cannot afford to confront Russia directly, so they have to halt their military operations in Liaodong and wait for the negotiations."

"The United States, where my father studied, and Germany, which my father now leads, both want to expand their interests in China. Given that Russia will inevitably take the lead, they are happy to mediate. Afterward, they can use their 'mediation success' as an excuse to gain significant benefits from the Qing. France, although it does not support Russia's excessive focus on the Far East, is still Russia's ally. Given its long-standing interest in Taiwan and its conflict of interests with Japan, it will also side with Russia. With almost all the major powers willing to see the war end, Britain alone cannot stop the tide."

Qingying spoke softly, his black eyes unusually desolate, "If my prediction is correct, within three days, messages welcoming the ceasefire between the Qing and Japan will flood in from all countries, including Germany. At that time, you can end your life as a maid and return to being a young lady."

Snow did not respond, but moved closer to Qingying. Qingying, who had been with Snow for nearly half a year, understood her intentions. He extended his arm, wrapped it around Snow's shoulders, and gently stroked her smooth, fresh hair. Feeling the softness and smoothness, he gently patted her head and said softly, "It's okay, it's okay."

Snow wriggled slightly, her large, lively eyes misty. Seeing the signs of tears, Qingying quickly hugged her, murmuring like a lullaby:

"It's okay, it's okay, Snow, don't cry. Listen, the negotiations between the two countries will not be completed in a day or two. It will take at least ten to fifteen days to reach an agreement. There's still a long time before we part. You must be happy, okay? Your father wouldn't want to see you like this, right?"

Snow lay silently in Qingying's arms, her shoulders trembling slightly as if trying to suppress her sobs. Qingying smiled faintly, his fingers deeply combing through Snow's black hair.

In a few days, he would not see her again. Who would dress her in red in the future?

A nobleman, a wealthy merchant? Or a ruffian, a street thug?

Shixia, perhaps, was also missed in this way?

The warm fire and fragrant scent filled the room, Qingying's heart surged. He took a deep breath and suddenly leaned down, kissing Snow's lips heavily. A wave of sweet and fragrant aroma enveloped him, drowning him instantly. Snow's lips were soft and smooth, like the tender buds of spring.

Snow's body trembled, and she responded fiercely, as if shedding all her restraints. Her tongue licked and entwined with Qingying's, their saliva mixing rapidly. As their lips and tongues parted and met, a thin, glistening thread hung between them. Qingying felt the sweet nectar flow from the tip of his tongue, like a refreshing spring, nourishing his body and mind. Snow's tears flowed down her cheeks to her lips, the slightly salty taste instantly dispelling all his desires.

The room was silent, and the two young souls, stripped of all pretense, communicated and trembled.

——

In the following days, Qingying and Snow visited all the famous historical sites in Beijing. With their hearts open, they seemed like old friends who had known each other for decades, reciting poetry and discussing history. Perhaps knowing that this parting would be their last, Snow climbed into Qingying's bed, wanting to offer her body to him, but Qingying firmly refused. Although he had a fondness for young girls, it was a pure love, free of any evil intentions.

On the last day, Qingying and Snow went to the only photography studio in the capital, where the British photographer Henry captured their images. During the photo session, Snow's head rested on Qingying's shoulder, her hands tightly holding his left arm. The flash of light, and the photo developed, showing a pair of young lovers smiling and leaning on each other. Although the photo was only in black and white with low resolution, Snow's face lit up with a radiant smile when she saw it, and she carefully placed it in a brocade box, keeping it close to her heart.

As the sun set and the moon rose, the last night was quiet and cold. Both of them stayed awake, Snow telling Qingying about her past, and Qingying sharing his own. However, Qingying did not reveal his secret of being a time traveler; some secrets are meant to be buried deep in the heart, left to rot in the soil of the soul.

The long night passed, and the first rays of dawn appeared. The moon and stars retreated, and the world came to life again.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a dazzling glow over the room. The darkness quietly receded, and light reclaimed the space.

The sudden brightness made Qingying squint. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the small courtyard bustling with people. In addition to his own attendants, there were two rows of Qing palace guards in yellow coats. Seeing Qingying, the tall and slender Laun stepped forward and said loudly, "It's time to leave, Your Highness, please get in the carriage."

Qingying nodded slowly. Laun signaled, and several of Qingying's attendants entered the room, carrying the trunks from the bed to the prepared carriage. Seeing his people efficiently moving the luggage, Qingying's heart stirred. He looked back one last time and saw Snow slowly approaching, her clear face showing a sad smile.

"Snow, I'm leaving. You must learn to protect yourself and take care of yourself." Qingying's heart ached, and he had a thousand words to say, but in the end, only a few words came out. Snow nodded lightly, her eyes red, and as usual, she carefully straightened his clothes and appearance.

Qingying caressed Snow's smooth face, his throat tight. In this moment of parting, he realized how deeply he cherished this young girl. The hand-holding in the summer evening, the dancing under the autumn moon, the kissing in the winter snow, the caresses in bed... all these memories flooded his mind. This was the first girl he had liked in six years, and Snow was so similar to Shixia that the 21-year-old Qingying felt like he had returned to his innocent youth.

Qingying had initially planned to take Snow to the city gate, but he now realized that if she accompanied him for ten miles, he would not have the heart to let her return home. He gently stroked her for a moment, then suddenly withdrew his hand and turned to leave. Snow's body trembled, tears in her eyes, as she watched Qingying's back jump into a carriage. With a horse's neigh and the crack of a whip, the carriage turned out of the courtyard and disappeared.

The wheels rolled, the horses neighed, and the convoy passed through the streets and out of the city gate. Qingying sat in the spacious carriage, silent, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. It was not until Beijing was far behind that he gradually stopped crying. Looking at the wet patch on the carpet, he was lost in thought, remembering many things from the past.

In his previous life, when he parted with Shixia, he had also cried bitterly. He thought his heart was strong enough after that experience, but he found himself shedding tears for a 14-year-old girl in this world. Was it because he still had unresolved feelings, and Snow, who resembled Shixia in age and appearance, had touched a chord in his heart? Or was it Snow's cute and proud personality that had awakened his protective instincts and affection for young girls?

But no matter how Qingying pondered, one thing was certain: when Snow, like Shixia, playfully sprinkled summer dew on his face and smiled brightly, his frozen heart instantly thawed, and a flood of emotions surged. When he held Snow in his arms, he felt a deep sense of fulfillment; and now, without her, a strong sense of pain and emptiness overwhelmed him. When she smiled, he was happier than she was; when she cried, he was sadder than she was!

The soft, smooth feeling of her skin lingered on his fingertips, and the fragrance of osmanthus and orchid still filled the air. Her pouting, her laughter, her coquetry, her embraces... the memories of the past six months with Snow flashed through his mind, like a beautiful and enchanting dream. Although he had experienced two lifetimes and many partings and reunions, when it came to his own, his heart was still bitter and heavy, the pain unbearable. In a daze, Qingying's vision blurred, as if he had traveled through time and space, back to the classroom, back to his previous school. In the beautiful sunset, a light and graceful voice echoed:

"Silently I depart, as silently I came; I wave my hand gently, bidding farewell to the clouds of the western sky."

PS: Since everyone has expressed this, I will quickly conclude the emotional subplot in the Qing Dynasty and return to the main storyline in Europe.

Additionally, I uploaded a new battleship line drawing in the related works section, but the system automatically compressed it horizontally, making it almost impossible to view. If anyone knows how to fix this, please let the author know. Thank you.

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