Returning to the farmhouse courtyard, Jiang Yinyue wrung out the cloth towel and wiped the remaining ash from Wei Qin’s face.
While Wei Qin had yet to wake, Jiang Yinyue asked softly, “Do you miss your mother?”
His tyrannical birth father had left an indelible brand in Wei Qin’s heart, scorching like fire—that was the reason for his fear of heat, wasn’t it?
What about his birth mother, who had passed away early? What sort of temperament had she possessed?
A strange thought flashed through her mind. Jiang Yinyue set down the cloth towel, cradled the unconscious man in her arms in the manner her own mother had once soothed her, gently patted him, and hummed a lullaby.
But the body of an adult man was very heavy. Before long, her arms grew sore, and the tune she hummed was far from melodious.
“No, no, you’re too heavy.”
She laid him flat on the bed and caught her breath. Just as she was about to get up and reward Lightning Chaser, someone suddenly grasped her wrist.
“Don’t go.”
After that short utterance, the delirious Wei Qin pulled Jiang Yinyue into his embrace and half-pinned her on the narrow bed.
His bent right knee draped over both of her legs.
Like wisteria vines climbing and entwining a peach tree, tightening bit by bit, binding her.
Jiang Yinyue turned her head and saw no sign of Wei Qin waking. She didn’t know which old acquaintance from the depths of his heart he most wanted never to leave. “Alright, I won’t go.”
She tried to sit up and stay by his side, but he pinned her body even more firmly, leaving her unable to move.
Wei Qin’s breath brushed over the stray hairs at her neck.
Even, faint, warm.
To avoid disturbing the man in his sleep from reuniting with that old acquaintance, Jiang Yinyue stopped struggling and stared blankly at the ceiling of the side room.
She had no sisters and often shared a bed with her personal maidservant Hong Mei, so she might as well treat Wei Qin as Hong Mei.
That way, it wouldn’t feel awkward.
But Wei Qin’s body was rock-hard, especially his legs, which differed greatly from Hong Mei’s slender frame. The muscles on his legs were firm and taut, pressing down until she could scarcely breathe.
And there was one place that Hong Mei certainly didn’t have…
Realizing that presence of Wei Qin’s which was impossible to ignore, Jiang Yinyue flushed red only after the fact.
The night before her wedding, her mother had earnestly advised her to live peacefully with her husband and even brought out a thin booklet, saying every new bride must read it. But she had only flipped through a few pages before storming off in embarrassed fury.
She had no intention of doing those strange things with anyone.
Yet those few thin pages of paper depicted exactly this thing now roasting her over a fire.
It was early February, the weather turning warm, and Wei Qin always wore thin clothing. Now trapped between his knees, Jiang Yinyue found it impossible to ignore or avoid.
“One sheep, two sheep…”
The inexperienced young woman counted sheep miserably, trying to hypnotize herself to sleep, but their tight fit made her break out in a fine sweat, her breaths growing humid.
She turned her head to look at Wei Qin’s pale face and, in the silent depths of the night, felt heartache for this man.
The night before dawn was long and dark. The woman, who had drifted off at some point, frowned as something brushed her cheek.
Cool and crisp.
The candle had burned out. Jiang Yinyue followed the source of the coolness by the faint moonlight and discovered Wei Qin’s face right in front of hers.
That cool sensation came from his… lips.
The man still hadn’t woken; he had simply brushed against her unintentionally while shifting in his sleep.
Jiang Yinyue felt a little dazed. This kiss was ice-cold, different from the warmth of the Crown Prince’s lips when he had kissed her cheek.
But the person with cool lips had a warm heart. The person with warm lips had a cold heart.
Early in the morning, as cooking smoke rose, the two Han sisters chatted and laughed while helping their mother at the stove.
It had been a long time since the home felt so lively. The old woman grinned from ear to ear, especially since that “madman” from the Zhou Family had been subdued—she couldn’t have been more gratified.
“Who is that young gentleman surnamed Wei?”
Han Yan signaled her mother to keep her voice down. “He’s the Bangyan personally selected by Your Majesty.”
The old woman’s eyes widened. “A Bangyan! What an achievement. No wonder he’s so skilled!”
Han Xun coughed. “Mother, civil officials rarely have such skills.”
“That makes it even more impressive.”
The old woman specially slaughtered a free-range chicken for Wei Qin, wanting to give the young man a proper supplement.
Jiang Yinyue woke in the warm nest of bedding. She rubbed her eyes and sat up to find Wei Qin packing their bundles.
“You’re awake.”
Wei Qin wrung out a cloth towel, walked to the bedside, held the back of Jiang Yinyue’s neck with one hand, and wiped her face with the other. He remained silent as ever, yet as meticulous as always.
Since he didn’t mention his fear of fire on his own, Jiang Yinyue didn’t press him. Some wounds clung to the flesh—tearing them open would only cause more pain. Childhood traumas took a lifetime to heal.
Before they departed, the young bookboy from the opposite side room came before Wei Qin and asked if he would return.
The answer was no.
In the long journey of life, one encountered many kindred spirits, but most were fleeting glances, passing shoulders, never to meet again.
The boy was still young and didn’t understand the meaning of parting. He stared with his big black eyes, waiting for an answer.
Wei Qin was always mild toward others, yet he reached out and measured their heights. “When you grow as tall as me, we’ll meet again.”
The boy beamed. “By then, I can take the imperial exams!”
“Mm.”
They would meet again on the court stage. The senior and the junior might become a fine tale.
Wei Qin ruffled the boy’s head, nodded to the villagers seeing them off, and drove the cart out of the village first.
Apart from the elderly couple of the Han family, no one knew their true identities.
Feeling the villagers’ gratitude toward Wei Qin, Yan Zhuyu, who hadn’t left her room all night, sighed with emotion. She suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy—Jiang Yinyue had such a good father. Even after his daughter ruined a perfectly good hand, he could still turn it around and find her a fine husband like Wei Qin.
Wei Qin might not say much, but from his youth, he had been the most notable among his fellow students—talented and promising, just waiting for his chance to shine.
When the imperial exams came, he didn’t miss it, becoming famous in Yangzhou as the Jieyuan of the provincial examination.
The worldly Jiang Song had placed a bet on his daughter, wagering that Wei Qin would rise to prominence.
Unlike her own father, who sold his daughter for glory!
Yan Zhuyu lifted the curtain and gazed toward Yangzhou, her eyes deep and shadowed.
Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, racing on fast horses day and night, had already arrived at the Jiangning Guard Commandery. In the interim, from inspecting the guards to steady the troops’ morale, to spot-checking the financial records and criminal cases of the Experience Office and Adjudication Office over the past decade, to managing fields, training soldiers, and distributing military supplies—he handled every matter personally, down to the smallest detail.
On the day the Guard Commander was rescued, the Crown Prince’s inspection in Jiangning was nearing its end.
As he listened to the flattery from the Governor and the Surveillance Commissioner, Wei Xichen stood atop a city tower in Jiangning and quirked his lips. He dismissed the other officials and soldiers, leaving the three by his side.
Standing with hands behind his back, his white robes immaculate as snow, yet the warmth and calm of the previous days were gone from his eyes.
“Regarding the bandits in this kidnapping case, how do the three lords plan to deal with them?”
The Governor, head of the Three Divisions Commanders, glanced at the kidnapped Guard Commander and declared righteously, “We must punish them severely!”
The Surveillance Commissioner, in charge of the case, bowed and scraped. “Your Highness, rest assured—your servant will wipe out those bandits’ lair. Not one will escape!”
Wei Xichen shook his head with a smile and descended the tower first, leaving the three officials staring at each other.
To catch bandits, one caught the king first. If they were serious, would the Surveillance Commissioner lead troops to the imperial city to capture the supreme ruler on the throne?
Never mind.
The task assigned by Father Emperor was an imperial decree, which could not be defied. The Three Divisions Commanders were merely following secret orders, staging a play of thieves crying thief.
It was set to test him.
Wei Xichen saw through it but could not say it. He waved his sleeve behind him.
With matters here settled, it was time to head to Yangzhou.
There were anomalies in Yangzhou’s salt administration accounts—who knew who was stirring up trouble.
The convoy was set to depart at dawn the next day. With time on his hands, Wei Xichen finally had the leisure to take in Jiangning’s scenery.
On the bustling street, the prince in plain clothes steadied a playful child who hadn’t watched where he was going. His lips curved slightly, his expression pleasant as he passed the stunned child.
The night curtain hadn’t fallen yet—why was he already seeing the elegant moonlight?
The child didn’t know what “stunned by heavenly beauty” meant; he only felt dazzled.
An elderly eunuch passed the dazed child and caught up to the man ahead. “I hear this street has many jade shops. Does Your Highness want to pick a few to play with on the road?”
Wei Xichen didn’t seek out jade shops specifically, but when he happened upon them, he naturally went in, browsing several without finding anything he liked. Finally, at one stall, he spotted a Green Plum Hairpin.
What drew Wei Xichen wasn’t the craftsmanship, but the jade’s color, close enough to fresh green plums.
He stared at the hairpin in a daze, lost in thought. When the stall owner drew near, he turned and walked away.
Fu Zhongcai hurried after him. “If Your Highness likes it, this old slave will buy it right now.”
The material was a bit rough, but it had the advantage of being liked. A thousand gold couldn’t buy what Your Highness liked.
“No need.”
Wei Xichen lost interest in strolling. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd. From as far back as he could remember, he rarely wandered idly—the few times he had were with Jiang Yinyue.
Back then, they had strolled noisy streets, watched steamed buns come out of the steamer, sniffed the aroma of wine from deep alleys, and counted the stars under the elm trees.
Who could have thought that later, they would part ways, and he would never mention his childhood sweetheart again?
The shadow of an old acquaintance became, in the end, a fading ripple of moonlight at the river’s distant end.
Deep into the night, all was silent. In the quiet bed curtains, the sleeping Wei Xichen suddenly furrowed his brows.
Ghostly shadows haunted his dream.
In the dream, clouds and mists blurred his vision. A sweet voice like silver bells, laced with laughter, pierced the fog, calling him “Crown Prince Brother” again and again.
No need to identify the voice—he knew who it was at once.
With a cold face, he watched “her” shadowy figure approach, twisting her graceful form.
“Crown Prince Brother, I regret it.”
“Regret what?”
“Regret marrying someone else.”
The woman ran forward, grabbed his sleeve, tears swirling in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have married someone else out of spite. Crown Prince Brother, help me. I want a divorce.”
At that moment, Wei Xichen’s furrowed brows relaxed.
“Really?”
As that unanswered question slipped from his thin lips, the woman before him suddenly turned into misty clouds and gradually dissipated.
He reached out to grasp her, but his palm closed on empty air.
Wei Xichen slowly opened his eyes, the sudden joy from the dream fading away. He sat up, pressing his temple, his emotions stirred by the woman in the dream.
Like a ripple in an elegant ink painting.
The lines of his face sharpened.
In the dream, Jiang Yinyue had tilted up her pure little face, her almond eyes reflecting his silhouette.
Her heart and eyes were filled with him.
This feeling was familiar—something he had once possessed easily, then painfully relinquished. He thought he could let it go lightly, but it lingered in his mind.
During that assassination, he had felt a profound sense of betrayal from her fleeing the scene. In youthful impulse, he retaliated against her in the way she least wanted, carving at her heart and scraping her bones, then stimulating her further with the marriage grant, all to vent the resentment of being “abandoned.” But when he learned of her engagement, shock replaced resentment, and the unhealed arrow wound in his heart tore open and bled.
For three years, he hadn’t mentioned a word—it was his self-proclaimed detachment. On the court, romantic entanglements came second; it was the lessons from Father Emperor and his trusted old ministers. Losing his soul and wits over a cowardly, deserter woman was not what an Heir Apparent should do.
Yet these years, he had wavered back and forth between letting go and holding on.
Wei Xichen pressed his left chest, where it ached faintly.
Just before arriving in Yangzhou, Jiang Yinyue had been searching along the way for something. When she finally spotted a bookshop in the distance, she called for the carriage to stop, hiked up her skirt, and jumped down. “Wait for me.”
Wei Qin stopped the cart across from the bookshop. Before long, he saw Jiang Yinyue running out, holding a scroll aloft.
She waved the scroll in the wind, the four bold characters on it especially striking.
Water Vastness.
Wei Qin understood her intent—water countered fire; she was blessing him to overcome his inner demon.
Suddenly, the words his father-in-law Jiang Song had said when recruiting him as a son-in-law echoed in his ears. “This official isn’t coercing or tempting you. If you’re the least bit unwilling, feel free to leave. But if you have even a shred of interest, patiently seek out the virtues in my daughter beyond her willfulness—they might just move you.”
Perhaps even Jiang Song hadn’t anticipated that the bait he cast three years ago would get a response.
Wei Qin had found them.