Time Is Slow - Chapter 6

Apricot Grove was not the name of a village. Rather, because the grand Qiao family estate—home to a scholar renowned across the land—stood behind the grove, over time, the surrounding villagers began using “Apricot Grove” as a way to refer to the Qiao family.

 

To reach Apricot Grove, one had to pass through Baiyun Village.

 

As dusk approached, the sound of galloping hooves shattered the village’s tranquility.

 

Villagers gathered in small groups, silently observing the newcomers.

 

They were quiet—too quiet. Within this deafening silence, the four travelers sensed an eerie atmosphere.

 

There was no cheerful chatter among the villagers, no curious children running up to gawk at strangers. Instead, every person was clad in white. Against the backdrop of the sunset-streaked sky, despite the arrival of spring, the scene sent a chill through them.

 

“Shi Xi, don’t you think these villagers seem strange? Should we dismount and ask around?” Yang Er urged his horse closer to Chi Can, lowering his voice.

 

Seated in front of Chi Can, Qiao Zhao stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings. Her gaze swept over the villagers’ wooden, grief-stricken faces, and a deep unease settled in her heart.

 

She couldn’t explain why, but it felt as if a heavy stone had suddenly crushed her chest, making it hard to breathe.

 

The sound of hooves no longer seemed to be striking the ground but rather trampling directly over her heart.

 

“Go… quickly…” she forced out the words, trying to mask her distress.

 

Chi Can had sensed the wrongness as well. Without hesitation, he told Yang Er, “No need to waste time. I know the way.”

 

Squeezing his legs against the horse’s sides, he urged it into a gallop. Zhu Yan and Yang Er hurried to keep up.

 

The three horses sped past, kicking up a cloud of dust. The villagers exchanged glances, sighed, and silently dispersed.

 

Beyond the village, the Apricot Grove came into view.

 

The apricot blossoms were already in bloom, stretching across the landscape like a sea of vibrant clouds, blending seamlessly with the evening sky—a breathtaking sight.

 

Qiao Zhao’s eyes reddened involuntarily.

 

Her grandfather had once told her that apricot blossoms were resilient. The colder the weather, the earlier they bloomed, and their season lasted far longer than peach blossoms.

 

He had admired apricot blossoms.

 

Yet now, while the blossoms remained, the person she revered most had long since been laid to rest.

 

“Hyah!” Chi Can had no interest in admiring the scenery. In an instant, they reached the grove’s edge. He dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, and led the group down a narrow path through the apricot trees.

 

Qiao Zhao clenched her fists, her palms drenched with sweat.

 

She was actually nervous. Even during her wedding day, she hadn’t felt a nervousness like the one she felt today.

 

This must be what they called “feeling of being near one’s hometown but being too timid to visit it.” A natural human emotion. She tried to comfort herself with this thought.

 

Suddenly, Chi Can came to a halt.

 

Qiao Zhao’s heart clenched. “What’s wro—”

 

The words died on her lips.

 

Before her lay only ruins and broken walls.

 

Her face turned deathly pale. Her body swayed, nearly collapsing—she had to grab onto something nearby just to keep herself standing.

 

Chi Can lowered his gaze, looking at the small hand clutching his sleeve.

 

It was delicate and slender, pale as jade, with faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.

 

After a moment of silence, Chi Can glanced at Yang Er.

 

Understanding immediately, Yang Er went to investigate.

 

He returned shortly, his tone heavy. “It was a fire. And judging by the damage, it happened not long ago.”

 

The three men exchanged looks.

 

In an instant, they understood the villagers’ strange behavior.

 

Given the Qiao family’s reputation and goodwill in the area, a tragedy like this would have deeply affected the locals. It was no surprise that they had donned white mourning garments.

 

The wind stirred, and apricot blossoms drifted down like silent snowfall, carrying a quiet chill.

 

For a long moment, no one spoke.

 

Qiao Zhao’s heart ached more than when she had taken an arrow through the chest on the walls of Yancheng.

 

No—this couldn’t even compare.

 

That time, the arrow had pierced her heart in an instant. The pain had been brief, and before she could fully process it, she had fallen into darkness. When she opened her eyes again, she had become the young girl, Li Zhao.

 

But this pain—this pain stretched endlessly, with no relief in sight.

 

What had she done wrong, to die and be reborn, only to witness such devastation?

 

She instinctively clenched her fists.

 

“You’re hurting me,” Chi Can said flatly.

 

Yang Er and Zhu Yan exchanged glances.

 

Others might not realize it, but as his close friends, they knew—Chican was in a foul mood.

 

After traveling thousands of miles, this was the result that awaited him. No one would take it well.

 

And beyond the disappointment of finding nothing, witnessing the Qiao family’s destruction only made it worse.

 

Qiao Zhao slowly released her grip and met the gaze of the strikingly handsome man before her.

 

His face was cold and indifferent.

 

Her grandfather had taught her to be self-respecting and self-reliant. She certainly couldn’t trouble others with her emotions.

 

“Let’s go ask the villagers what exactly happened,” Chi Can said, turning to walk into the apricot grove.

 

Qiao Zhao trudged behind him, her steps heavy as if her legs were weighed down with lead. Before long, she had fallen to the back of the group.

 

Zhu Yan glanced back, pausing to wait for her.

 

Though the young girl hadn’t shed a tear, the grief radiating from her was overwhelming.

 

Why was she so sorrowful?

 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

 

Qiao Zhao looked at him, attempting a weak smile. “Obviously, I’m not.”

 

Zhu Yan hesitated for a moment before pulling out a neatly folded white handkerchief from his sleeve and offering it to her. “If you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s better to cry it out.”

 

Though he didn’t understand why she was so heartbroken, he couldn’t bear to see her like this.

 

He realized that sometimes, a girl not crying was even more heartbreaking than if she did.

 

At this moment, she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—refuse such kindness.

 

She reached out, took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes, then her nose, and sincerely said, “Brother Zhu, you’re a good man.”

 

Brother Zhu, the “good man”: “…”

 

After a long pause, he simply replied, “As long as you’re feeling better.”

 

As they passed through the apricot grove, Zhu Yan cast a glance at Chi Can, whose expression remained noticeably grim. After some hesitation, he turned to Qiao Zhao and asked, “Do you want me to give you a ride?”

 

Qiao Zhao hesitated.

 

Chi Can’s cold gaze swept over them impatiently. “What are you dawdling for? Get on the horse!”

 

With that, he reached out, lifted Qiao Zhao onto the horse, and galloped forward.

 

The four of them returned to Baiyun Village, where they gave a piece of silver to a teenage boy, who led them to the village chief.

 

“You must be here to visit Master Qiao,” the village chief said directly as he opened the door.

 

Chi Can remained silent. As he was clearly in a foul mood, Zhu Yan spoke on his behalf. “Yes, we traveled a long way to see Master Qiao, but when we passed through Apricot Grove, we saw—”

 

The village chief sighed heavily. “You may not know, but a few days ago, the Qiao family was caught in a devastating fire. Master Qiao and his entire household perished in the flames…”

 

Qiao Zhao’s whole body trembled. Fortunately, she was sitting in the corner, and no one noticed.

 

“How could such a fire break out so suddenly?” Chi Can suddenly asked.

 

The village chief’s face was filled with sorrow. “Who knows? The fire started at dusk, and by the time we noticed, the flames were already raging. No one could get inside. Young Master Qiao charged into the inferno despite everyone trying to stop him. He risked his life to save his little sister, and then… the house collapsed.”

 

“Young Master Qiao?”

 

Qiao Zhao was devastated, but the moment she heard those four words, her heart jumped.

 

Her brother was still alive?

 

“Young Master Qiao survived?” Zhu Yan asked the question that Qiao Zhao desperately wanted to voice.

 

“The mourning period for the Qiao family was lifted,” the village chief explained. “That day, Young Master Qiao happened to be visiting a friend, so he avoided the disaster. When he returned, the fire had already engulfed the house. He rushed inside to save his younger sister.”

 

“So, both Young Master Qiao and Miss Qiao are safe?” Qiao Zhao asked softly, trying to keep her emotions in check.

 

The “Miss Qiao” the village chief referred to was Qiao Wan, her half-sister.

 

The village chief glanced at Qiao Zhao before answering, “Miss Qiao seems to be unharmed. As for Young Master Qiao—”

 

“What about him?” the group asked in unison.

 

“His face was destroyed in the fire,” the village chief sighed deeply.

 

His face… is ruined?

 

Chican, Zhu Yan, and Yang Er had all met Qiao Mo before. In their minds, his striking, unparalleled beauty flashed before them.

 

In the capital, Qiao Mo’s reputation for his looks was on par with Chi Can’s. It was hard to imagine such a face being ruined.

 

“What a pity,” the village chief voiced what they were all thinking.

 

Qiao Zhao’s lips moved slightly.

 

No, it wasn’t a pity. As long as her brother was alive, that was all that mattered!

 

“Where is Young Master Qiao now?” she asked.

 

“That, I don’t know,” the village chief admitted. “The villagers helped Young Master Qiao handle the aftermath of the fire, but once everything was settled, he left with his sister without saying a word. With his injuries, who knows where he went?”

 

“The capital,” Qiao Zhao blurted out.

 

Everyone turned to her in surprise.