“Taking care of Qi Bao takes energy.”
Jiang Yinyue had no appetite. She stared straight ahead at the sleeping little one, letting the Heir Apparent’s words go in one ear and out the other, unwilling to say more to him.
If not for Qi Bao’s injury, she would never share a roof with him in this lifetime.
Wei Xichen went to the washbasin stand, cleaned his hands, and picked up his chopsticks, but his appetite seemed carried away by his peripheral vision; he had none left.
After hesitating amid the struggles of those passing three years and breaking through his restraints, he sat beside Jiang Yinyue and placed the tray on his lap. “Have some.”
“This humble wife isn’t hungry.”
“Even if not hungry, you should eat.”
Wei Xichen’s hand—the one that wielded the brush to decree life and death—gripped the spoon handle. He scooped up a spoonful of ginseng soup and held it suspended above the surface, frozen in contradiction without feeding it to her.
Lowering his pride took an instant, but raising it again was hard.
In the end, pride straightened that bent spine.
Jiang Yinyue saw his hesitation but had no mind to ponder it—until he brought the spoon to her lips.
The savory soup touched her lips, warm and moist.
Jiang Yinyue instinctively pulled away, coolly distant. “Crown Prince, please show some self-respect.”
That “Crown Prince” widened the chasm between them further, while “self-respect” set their moat raging, churning the calm waters of Wei Xichen’s heart.
Not only was she avoiding impropriety, she was also misinterpreting his intentions—did she take him for a lecher taking advantage of the situation?
Wei Xichen withdrew his hand, his jaw tightening.
People accustomed to restraint did not quarrel easily, especially when Qi Bao needed quiet.
He rose and set the tray aside, standing by the window with his tense jaw never relaxing.
The only one who could anger the Heir Apparent with a single sentence was Jiang Yinyue.
At that moment, Fu Zhongcai reported from outside the door that Consort Liangdi had arrived with another veterinarian.
“Send them back.” Wei Xichen clasped his hands behind his back and gave a mild refusal to the visitors at the door.
Qi Bao needed quiet, and so did he.
Yan Zhuyu, who stood behind Fu Zhongcai with the veterinarian, was momentarily stunned. This was the first time Your Highness the Crown Prince had turned her away in broad daylight.
Through the thin door panel and pasted paper, she saw a blurry figure sitting beside Qi Bao—Jiang Yinyue, who had been kicked out by Your Highness the Crown Prince three years ago. And now, three years later, she, the victor, was refused at the door by Your Highness the Crown Prince.
Her hands, folded in front of her, grew ice-cold.
Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west?
Without hysterics or aggrieved tears, the woman accustomed to being a charming conversationalist bowed toward the cold door panel. “This concubine shall take her leave first.”
As she turned to leave the post station, Yan Zhuyu’s unsteady feet faltered, but when Han Jian approached with the umbrella to support her, she scolded him in a low voice. “Who do you think you are?!”
Han Jian froze with his outstretched hand, lowering his head and letting Yan Zhuyu pass by him before galloping away into the rain.
The meal by the second-floor window gradually cooled. Neither of the two in the room touched their chopsticks. They looked at each other wordlessly, turned their backs in silence, and waited until dusk fell.
The fine rain had just stopped, and rosy sunset clouds spread across the sky, dyeing the horizon in lavish hues.
When Fu Zhongcai knocked a second time to deliver food, Wei Xichen’s refusal came from the room once more.
“Your Highness must take care of your health.”
There was no further response from inside the door. Fu Zhongcai sighed. As soon as he turned, he was startled by Wei Qin, who had appeared suddenly.
The same scene repeated.
The difference was that during the previous incident at the mountain post station, Wei Qin had worn a coarse hemp garment, but now he was still in his unexchanged official robes.
“Transport Judge Wei, how do you walk so silently?”
Wei Qin’s gaze fell on the tightly shut door, skipping over the Eastern Palace steward in front of him.
“Is my wife inside?”
“Yes.”
Fu Zhongcai sighed again and turned to report once more. “Your Highness, Transport Judge Wei requests an audience.”
“No audience.”
Jiang Yinyue, separated from him by just a door, finally reacted. She rose at the sound and ignored the man by the window, heading straight for the door.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Wei Xichen’s hands, clasped behind his back, slowly clenched into fists. He did not order her to stop for the sake of the Heir Apparent’s dignity, nor had he ever issued such an order to her.
Jiang Yinyue opened the door and looked at Wei Qin. “You’ve come.”
Fu Zhongcai outside the door pulled a bitter face, nearly calling her “little auntie.”
This little auntie wouldn’t defy Your Highness the Crown Prince’s wishes in front of everyone, would she? His Highness had just said no audience!
And yet His Highness did not speak up to stop her…
Wei Qin, however, stood in place and patted his wife’s shoulder. “Your husband will wait for you outside.”
Fu Zhongcai breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, Wei Qin knew his place. If he had brazenly crossed the threshold, trampling on the Heir Apparent’s dignity like crossing a thunder pond, what then?!
Even if the Crown Prince overlooked it, one or two of the guard leaders outside would report it to Your Majesty. In that case, forget Wei Qin’s official hat—his life might not be spared.
How could Jiang Yinyue not understand the stakes? She had no intention of letting Wei Qin defy the Heir Apparent and invite trouble. It was simply that the time had come; as a married woman, she should return home with her husband.
She turned on her heel and, in front of everyone, curtsied toward Wei Xichen. “This subject wife shall take her leave.”
Qi Bao was still sleeping soundly, with a veterinarian at its side. There was no need for her to stay up all night.
It was inconvenient at night, after all.
After curtsying for a long time without a response from the man by the window, Jiang Yinyue raised her eyes. He was framed in the sunset glow, a touch of loneliness about him. But what did that have to do with her?
“This subject wife takes her leave!”
She repeated it. If not for the bystanders, she would have left without looking back long ago.
Her knees grew tired, her waist ached. She ground her teeth inwardly, silently cursing Wei Xichen over and over in her heart, until she finally received a “Be careful on the road.”
That man never turned around. Only when the young couple appeared on the long street did his level gaze shift downward slightly.
In the bustling marketplace, Wei Qin led Chasing Wind, walking side by side with his wife through the throng. As they walked, he suddenly turned back, looking toward the window on the second floor of the post station.
From afar, that figure in white grew blurry, like a beam of moonlight shrouded in sunset clouds, ‘trapped’ within.
Mr. Gong, who had traveled far away, was writing a story in his speeding carriage—a tale of love and hate defying heaven and earth. As he wrote, the old man recalled a familiar saying: “What one couldn’t obtain in youth will trap them for life.” It fit the man and woman in his story perfectly.
The wheels rumbled on, leaving two parallel tracks in the muddy earth.
Just as those two lives of love and hate would never intersect again.
The setting sun spread across the water surface, with shimmering petals inlaid like green jade, drawing people to stop and admire the scene of the falling sun by the water’s edge.
Jiang Yinyue, passing by just then, lifted her face to the glow, trying to dispel the worries stirred by Qi Bao.
“Wei Qin, I’m hungry.”
There were many food stalls by the road. Wei Qin tied the horse to a weeping willow by the water, bought some bamboo leaf cakes and mint biscuits, and fetched a white cloth, dipping it in the water before bending down to wipe Jiang Yinyue’s fingers.
Jiang Yinyue sat on a rock by the shore, utterly weary, letting Wei Qin wipe her fingers meticulously while lounging lazily.
Wei Qin asked, “Worried about Qi Bao?”
Jiang Yinyue described Qi Bao’s condition in detail. “Don’t let its large size fool you—it’s very timid, afraid even of frogs and mice. It must have been terrified by that bite.”
“And?”
“Hm?”
“You look very tired.”
Seeing Wei Qin kneel on one knee in front of her, Jiang Yinyue leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder, closing her eyes to release her fatigue and tension.
“You guessed it.”
Sharing a roof with Wei Xichen, locked in a standoff—it had drained her heart. Fortunately, there was Wei Qin. Without a word, he understood her joys and sorrows.
Wei Qin raised his hand and rubbed her head. His dark eyes followed the rippling water all the way to the horizon where water met sky.
Distant. Endless.
In his darkest year, he had watched the girl pick up the shards of her shattered maiden dreams and damaged spirit amid the curses and doubts, trying to piece them back together. In the end, she realized she was trapped in a mirage.
The illusory maiden dreams could not be reassembled, nor could the youthful spirit be restored.
All he could do was accompany her out of that mirage, to see the real world and genuine human feelings.
To start anew.
Her father had sheltered her too well, and the Crown Prince had dealt her a heavy blow, leaving the naive girl lost. Wounds hurt, of course, but she shouldn’t see only the world’s harshness. Beauty was eternal; one had to seek it out oneself.
Jiang Yinyue had endured. She had let go, not defeated by the Crown Prince’s ruthlessness.
What sustained her was not his company, but her own heart turning toward the sun, believing in goodness.
Wei Qin’s eyes reflected the firmament, spreading infinitely in their depths, vast and boundless.
The last time in the small tavern, when he had faced the Crown Prince alone, he had asked him a question.
“If Yan Hongchang is guilty, how does Your Highness plan to deal with Consort Liangdi?”
There was no solid evidence to topple Yan Hongchang directly, but the scattered clues all pointed to him.
The Crown Prince did not answer, instead smiling as he pointed out, “And what is the implication?”
He rarely concerned himself with unimportant people, so his intent was clear.
The Crown Prince had once believed Jiang Yinyue had fled alone to save herself, severing their bond with a slash to become the emotionless man an emperor should be. But what about Yan Zhuyu? If Yan Hongchang was truly tied to the salt administration irregularities, Yan Zhuyu would be implicated. Would the Crown Prince be impartial, or show mercy?
He wanted to judge from the Crown Prince’s attitude toward Yan Zhuyu whether emotions truly no longer swayed him. In other words, had Yan Zhuyu replaced Jiang Yinyue in the Crown Prince’s heart?
But the Crown Prince gave no answer.
He knew what the Crown Prince cared about most.
Betrayal.
His childhood sweetheart had wept that she was wronged, but as a ruler, he feared betrayal lurking in the heart. He chose distrust and cut off the bond, all to guard against future betrayal by his pillow companion.
Wei Qin had considered it: if he were the one hunted and truly abandoned by Jiang Yinyue, would he resent or retaliate like the Crown Prince?
He thought not. He certainly would not retaliate.
How could a naive girl withstand an assassin’s blade?
Fear was instinct.
What he wished was for her to have the skills to survive in desperation.
Some people’s condemnations were just armchair criticism. If it were them, dominated by fear, they might run even faster. Of course, with Jiang Yinyue’s nature, Wei Qin did not believe she would flee alone.
He trusted her words.