The faint chill at the back of her neck vanished in a flash, making Jiang Yinyue’s scalp tingle. She didn’t even dare to stand and confront the person behind her.
Her right hand was still gripped in that person’s palm, wandering over the plain paper, nearly slipping from her conscious control.
This was also the first time she had put brush to paper and formed coherent text, every word a gem, without even needing to think.
“Wei Qin.”
“Mm.”
“So hot…”
Wei Qin wrote the final “le” character, lifted the brush with a fine point, then released her hand and stepped back. The effortless control in his every gesture was something Jiang Yinyue could never learn.
“Father-in-law favors Green Willow Spring. I’ll have the messenger take a few jars along.”
Jiang Yinyue sprawled over the table, absentmindedly staring at the elegant handwriting on the family letter. It flowed freely and unrestrained, different from her own delicate regular script. Her father was going to boast to everyone about his fine son-in-law again.
She still remembered when they had just gotten engaged. She had frowned constantly, pulling a long face, while her father brimmed with joy, praising his own good judgment.
Contending with numerous nobles, the prize had ultimately gone to their family. His sense of accomplishment was no less than becoming the Crown Prince’s father-in-law.
His face had nearly split from smiling.
At that time, she hadn’t understood why her father was so delighted. She had thought he was just putting on a front in public, unwilling to admit that he had lost face because of her. But now it seemed her father had truly taken a liking to him at first sight and was convinced his judgment wouldn’t fail.
What had made her father so certain?
“Wei Qin, before you had even left the examination compound during the metropolitan exam, Minister Tao, who was an inner examiner, lavished praise on you. Afterward, he even tried to get ahead by arranging for you to meet his Seventh Miss. Why did you refuse?”
Seventh Miss Tao was a famous talented beauty in the Capital City, accomplished in both talent and looks.
Wei Qin took three jars of Green Willow Spring picked in early spring from the shelf and packed them with the letter in paper wrapping. He ignored what seemed like the eldest Jiang miss dredging up old matters.
After sending off the messenger, he returned and saw a certain eldest miss still sitting at the table. Only then did he reply, “No chemistry.”
“So, you had seen Seventh Miss Tao before the formal meeting was arranged?”
“We crossed paths once before the metropolitan exam.”
Minister Tao, that sly old fox, had even sharper eyes than her own father. No wonder everyone said he was the most likely to succeed as Grand Secretary. Jiang Yinyue couldn’t help thinking of her father’s words: if no marriage, then benefits. Even after failing to matchmake for his daughter, Tao Qian had recommended Wei Qin for the position of Transport Judge to investigate the Yangzhou salt administration—all to earn a favor and pull Wei Qin into serving the Third Prince.
Tao Qian had watched for three years and seen that the Crown Prince wouldn’t promote Wei Qin. Wei Qin was the Jiang clan’s son-in-law, and the Jiang clan fully supported the Crown Prince…
Was this contradiction Tao Qian’s wager?
To sow discord.
The Third Prince Wei Yangwan had been single-handedly groomed by Tao Qian. He thirsted for talent and had gathered many scholars from poor backgrounds under him. His wings were growing plump, especially in recent years with covert support from the Minister of Justice, adding wings to a tiger and making him the Eastern Palace’s greatest rival.
She wondered what Your Majesty thought of it.
The court situation wouldn’t settle until the very last moment; it would still shift like storm clouds, and who would claim the deer remained unknown.
Jiang Yinyue propped her cheek in thought until a large hand lifted both her cheeks.
Their eyes met.
Jiang Yinyue leaned close to Wei Qin and whispered, “If the Crown Prince doesn’t plan to promote you, would you switch to serving under the Third Prince?”
“Do you mind?”
“Father would.”
Wei Qin stared at the candlestick on the table, flickers of firelight dancing in his pitch-black eyes.
Who could have guessed three years ago that the Eastern Palace Crown Prince, who always treated worthies humbly, would overlook the Jiang clan’s son-in-law? Even if it had been someone else, they might not have been promoted either. As the saying went, no jade without flaws—the Crown Prince ultimately let emotions rule in such matters.
Even the shrewd Jiang Song hadn’t anticipated that the Crown Prince would ignore the Jiang clan son-in-law.
The top scorer and third placer among the three top metropolitan graduates had both received the Crown Prince’s promotion. The top scorer had even rocketed up to become the youngest Grand Secretary in the Cabinet. Yet Wei Qin, the most outstanding Bangyan in the Hanlin Academy, had received no recognition from the Crown Prince.
The Minister of Personnel, who handled official transfers and was the Crown Prince’s confidant, had also overlooked Wei Qin’s performance.
Jiang Yinyue suddenly felt she owed Wei Qin. If not for her… But was the Crown Prince really rejecting the Jiang clan son-in-law because of her? Or was she thinking too highly of herself?
Jiang Yinyue sprawled on the table, pressing close to Wei Qin, and said sincerely, “Follow your heart. Even if it goes against the Jiang family’s choice.”
His status as son-in-law shouldn’t become a shackle on Wei Qin’s career. That wouldn’t be fair to him.
At the same time as Jiang Yinyue received her father’s letter, Crown Prince Wei Xichen also received a letter from the Capital City.
From his maternal grandfather’s family.
Grand Tutor Dong mentioned his own condition in the letter. The old man, accustomed to reporting good news but not bad, sighed repeatedly. In his twilight years and past his prime, he hoped the Crown Prince would quickly appoint a principal wife, take in concubines widely, and solidify court factions through marriage alliances.
“The youngest daughter of the Minister of Personnel is refined and clever, pure and wise, much favored by Their Majesties—ideal as the first choice for Crown Princess. Censor Zhang’s granddaughter has also reached marriageable age and awaits a match as second choice. Additionally, Your Highness should consider candidates for Consort Liangyuan, Consort Chenghui, Zhaoxun, and Fengyi.”
Wei Xichen skipped this part and continued reading his grandfather’s letter. Apart from the urgings on selecting consorts, the other important matters gave him pause for thought.
After putting away the letter, he leaned back in his armchair and pinched his brow. Subconsciously, he looked toward Qi Bao curled up in its nest.
As if sensing something, Qi Bao scooted closer, placed its front paws on his leg, and looked utterly aggrieved.
“Missing her again?” Wei Xichen stroked Qi Bao’s head, his gaze dimming with flecks of obscurity.
In the days that followed, the Crown Prince went to the Salt Transport Office every day, personally investigating Yan Hongchang’s case. Wei Qin served temporarily as his deputy, staying by the Heir Apparent’s side.
The other relevant officials stood ready at all times.
Ruler and ministers worked day and night, burning the midnight oil. Wei Qin even stayed overnight in the yamen offices for several days without returning home.
Around the Mangzhong solar term, with sweltering heat rising, the busy Heir Apparent decided to reward everyone. Besides generous gifts, he borrowed a manor from Old Princess Dowager Xu to host a poetry feast by flowing cups.
In addition to the salt investigation officials and constables, the meritorious thousand-household officers, hundred-household officers, and numerous soldiers were also invited.
Under pleasant breezes and sunshine, the civil officials sat by the stream trading verses, while the martial generals tossed arrows, wrestled, and sparred with swordplay a short distance away.
Who would dare snub an invitation from the Heir Apparent?
Wei Xichen sat in a second-floor pavilion, overlooking the manor. His gaze fell on Wei Qin, who kept to himself.
With a chuckle, he led people over to Wei Qin.
Snowy white robes blocked the summer sun from Wei Qin’s view.
“Why is Advisor Wei alone?”
Wei Qin stood. “This official tends to kill the mood.”
Did that mean he was stiff and inarticulate? With Jiang Yinyue’s personality, how did they get along in private?
A perceptive general came jogging over, drenched in sweat and panting, “I’ve heard Transport Judge Wei is skilled in both pen and sword, with marvelous sword flowers. Might I have the honor of learning from him?”
Wei Qin replied flatly, “I don’t do sword dances.”
“…”
Wei Xichen’s lips quirked. This personality did kill the mood. He strode toward a sun-baked clearing. “This Prince wishes to learn swordplay from Advisor Wei. Would you oblige?”
Fu Zhongcai immediately sent someone to fetch the Crown Prince’s sword.
The civil and martial officials stopped their separate sparring and crowded toward the clearing to watch the Heir Apparent’s swordplay.
Fu Zhongcai glanced back at Wei Qin under the tree shade and winked, urging him to follow.
A guard brought the Crown Prince’s sword and presented it with both hands.
Wei Xichen drew it, casually twisted his wrist, and the blade spun deftly. In a blink, he sank his shoulder, dropped his elbow, and pointed the sword at his “opponent.”
“Advisor Wei, choose a sword.”
The generals raised their own swords for him to pick.
Wei Qin drew the nearest long sword, stepped wide with one leg, pivoted on his toes, settled his qi into his dantian. “Your Highness, please.”
“Forgive me.”
Wei Xichen charged, closing in fast. His snowy robes flashed like a startled swan across everyone’s vision, swift as wind and lightning.
In the pause, blade met blade.
The impact jolted Wei Qin back unsteadily until his right heel dug in, parrying the strike.
Wei Xichen pressed the advantage, bearing down on Wei Qin’s sword and forcing him to lean back at the waist.
The onlookers hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to take it so seriously and grew excited. Who enjoyed mere playacting? Real clashes were far more thrilling.
Blades locked, strength clashed. Wei Qin shifted from initial casualness to full focus, swinging hard to repel the dominant Wei Xichen.
Wei Xichen retreated gripping his sword, kicking up dust. He flicked up a pebble toward Wei Qin’s face, then leaped, tracing fluid sword flowers midair.
Wei Qin blocked the stone with his blade flat, spun away from the airborne sword, and at the moment Wei Xichen’s feet touched down, flashed behind him for an elbow strike.
Wei Xichen twisted his sword tip back under his armpit toward the attacker.
Wei Qin pulled back, slashed out, slicing through the summer heat and breeze. Sword qi grazed Wei Xichen’s rear hem.
Wei Xichen turned, now on the receiving end.
Wei Qin’s swordplay blended hard and soft, real and feint, striking unexpectedly.
After parrying several moves, Wei Xichen unleashed sword flowers again, shadows layering, unstoppable as splitting bamboo. Sunlight refracted in beams off blade and spine, shooting toward Wei Qin’s eyes.
The blazing sun dazzled. Wei Qin turned his head from the glare. Amid the white flash, he sensed the rapid approach—not generating fierce winds, but agile as a flood dragon.
The crowd gasped.
When the sword light faded, Wei Xichen had severed Wei Qin’s long sword.
But the assault didn’t stop; the blade nicked Wei Qin’s neck.
Wei Qin blocked with the broken sword as warm blood trickled from his side neck.
Wei Xichen held the advantage, but the crowd gasped again—the victor couldn’t move.
Wei Qin had caught the severed sword tip barehanded and pressed it to Wei Xichen’s heart.
Fu Zhongcai paled in fright, covering his face. “Stop!”
Had this man eaten bear heart and leopard gall?
Wei Qin stepped back, snapped the broken sword in hand, and cupped his fists. “This official lost.”
A smear of blood stained the broken tip.
“You were generous.” Wei Xichen sheathed his sword, ignoring the surrounding cheers and flattery. Even though his blade had neared Wei Qin’s neck, Wei Qin’s tip had pointed at his heart.
No true winner in this bout.
However… his sword was a treasure blade that cut iron like mud, incomparable to ordinary long swords.
All told, Wei Qin had been at a disadvantage.
At dusk, the crowd returned home by carriage. Wei Qin didn’t stay overnight at the yamen but went back to the Wei Residence.
The young couple, separated for days, gazed at each other in the courtyard.
Jiang Yinyue hurried to Wei Qin’s side and touched the wound on his neck. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
“A sword wound.”
Jiang Yinyue had heard about the Crown Prince rewarding the meritorious officials at Old Princess Dowager Xu’s manor that day. She knew civil and martial officials often sparred at such gatherings, whether in verse or martial arts. Wei Qin must have been injured by someone.
“Don’t hide it from me.”
“Sparred with Your Highness and was wounded by him.”
Jiang Yinyue’s gaze dropped to his left hand wrapped in white cloth. She pried open his fingers to check, fury surging to her head.
“He did it on purpose.”
“No.”
“It must be.”
Jiang Yinyue pulled Wei Qin back to the side room, fetched the medicine box, and re-treated his wounds.
The neck wound was deeper, nearly hitting an artery.
As she fumed, barking sounded from the back courtyard, followed by Lightning Chaser’s neigh. She rushed to the back gate, blocking the Wei family inside.
She shut the back gate.
Qi Bao came bounding up, tongue lolling, pawing at Jiang Yinyue’s clothes nonstop.
Unlike usual, Jiang Yinyue didn’t respond. She coldly eyed the rare guest in the back alley.
Wei Xichen had come personally, with Fu Zhongcai behind him.
The old eunuch stepped forward and offered a porcelain bottle. “This is palace secret golden sore medicine, a gift from Your Highness to Transport Judge Wei.”
Unexpectedly, Jiang Yinyue snatched the bottle and hurled it, smashing it squarely into Wei Xichen’s chest.
Smack.
The bottle shattered.
“Your Highness needn’t put on false kindness. No need to wound someone then toss a sweet date. Besides, this commoner wife has no intention of repaying principal and interest with two bottles of golden sore medicine.”
Fu Zhongcai wrinkled his old face, embarrassed to look at the Crown Prince’s expression.
The hidden guards didn’t know where to look.
Seeing the porcelain shards and ointment scattered on the ground, Wei Xichen waved a hand, dismissing everyone in the alley.
Fu Zhongcai left while turning back, his face full of conflict. Though he could not guess the true purpose of Your Highness bringing Qi Bao to visit Wei Qin, it was probably to see the childhood sweetheart from their youth.
Why bother? Men marry and women wed; they should each live contentedly.
Wei Xichen stepped over the shards of porcelain and walked up to Jiang Yinyue. “You say This Prince is hypocritical and intentionally injured Wei Qin?”
“Isn’t that so? Your Highness could clearly have retracted the sword strike, yet you still wounded him—nearly fatally.”
“Does This Prince seem as ruthless as you imagine?”
Jiang Yinyue sneered and turned to leave, but Wei Xichen seized her wrist and yanked her back.
“Why would This Prince injure Wei Qin?”
“Your Highness knows full well!”
“For you?”
The man’s tone was even and unruffled, but the hand gripping the woman’s wrist tightened, as if channeling dark flames through his fingertips.
Jiang Yinyue silently twisted her wrist, unwilling to cry out and draw the neighbors’ attention. In a fit of anger, she stomped fiercely on the toe of Wei Xichen’s cloud brocade boot.
Leaving a dainty little footprint.
With a creak, Wei Qin pushed the door open and clamped his left hand around Wei Xichen’s wrist bone.
“My wife acted impulsively and offended Your Highness. Please quell your anger, Your Highness.”
The three of them secretly vied for strength.
Qi Bao darted back and forth beside them, oblivious to the tense standoff hanging in the silent air.
In the end, Wei Xichen released his force and took a step back.
‘What was I doing…’
A bitterness spread through his heart, forcibly suppressed.
Without offering a single word of explanation, he turned and left, his robe hem brushing over the shards of porcelain on the ground.
“Qi Bao.”
Qi Bao froze, its dog head swiveling but staying put. When Wei Xichen stopped to wait, it dove between Jiang Yinyue and Wei Qin’s robe hems, pretending not to hear.
Wei Xichen closed his eyes and strode briskly away.
Jiang Yinyue withdrew her gaze at once and grabbed Wei Qin’s left hand. “Does it hurt?”
Blood seeped from the wound, making it look quite frightening.
“Mmm, it hurts.”
Jiang Yinyue looked up in surprise. She had thought he felt no pain; the old Wei Qin would never have admitted to hurting so easily.
Wei Qin gazed at the woman whose eyes brimmed with concern for him alone. His thin lips tugged lightly, and he suddenly leaned down to press his forehead to hers.
Jiang Yinyue froze in place. The anger Wei Xichen had stirred was instantly snuffed out, her restlessness soothed flat.
In the silent depths of night, the small, unlit room in the posthouse lay dim and somber. Wei Xichen, who had dozed off slumped in an armchair, furrowed his brow.
In his hazy consciousness, a woman tugged carefully at his sleeve, repeating over and over, “Crown Prince Brother, help me. I want a divorce.”
He gazed faintly at the woman squatting by the chair, her pretty little face raised. Slowly, he reached out to pinch her soft, tender cheek.
The woman smiled and nuzzled his hand.
Abruptly, he scooped her up and pulled her tight into his embrace.
At that very moment, the man in his sleep jolted awake.
The empty stillness was like an invisible sword stabbing into his heart.
Night wind poured through the half-open window. Outside, shadows flitted about—heavy defenses of Eastern Palace dark guards and escorting attendants—but that elusive specter had still slipped into his dream and disturbed his mind.
He raised a hand to his throbbing forehead and subconsciously wanted to call for Qi Bao, only to realize his beloved dog was not at his side.
A soft sigh echoed in the quiet night.