Jiang Yinyue was stunned. Wei Qin said he had someone he liked…
Then why hadn’t he gone along with her suggestion to divorce, and instead… forced her?
The steam gradually dissipated. The man in the bath barrel lifted his gaze. His solid chest muscles were half-hidden beneath the water surface, with ripples undulating at his heart.
“The person I like is the young lady.”
A strong wind blew outside the window just then, rattling the doors and windows with creaking sounds. Jiang Yinyue didn’t even know how she made it back to the bed. She wrapped herself in the quilt and curled up in the corner of the bed, staring at Wei Qin’s figure.
His sudden confession caught her off guard, and she fled in panic. Yet Wei Qin didn’t press his advantage. He cleaned up the bath barrel and towels as usual, tidying the room until it was neat and bright.
Jiang Yinyue’s mind was a mess. The sensation of their lips brushing lingered in her memory from that brief contact, impossible to shake off.
Wei Qin came to the bedside but didn’t get too close. He kept a distance she could tolerate and asked, “Has the young lady considered clearly whether she wants to divorce me?”
For some reason, Jiang Yinyue suddenly didn’t dare meet his eyes. She hugged her knees, resting her chin on her forearms, and mumbled, “You didn’t have someone you liked before… As for some other sweetheart, why should I divorce? With the marriage in place, it saves me a lot of trouble. Why should I go looking for trouble out of nowhere?”
No sooner had she finished speaking than Wei Qin grabbed her foot peeking out from the quilt. Her body lost balance from the pull forward and she toppled backward into the soft bedding.
Her raven hair spilled out.
Wei Qin gripped her ankle and dragged her toward the edge of the bed. Amid her astonishment, he said earnestly, “The young lady can take a long time to consider and can refuse me, but don’t casually mention divorce again.”
Good intentions had backfired, shattering the warm tranquility. Jiang Yinyue knew she was in the wrong. She kicked away Wei Qin’s hand and silently lay back under the covers, letting out a muffled “Mm.”
“You can’t do that again either…”
“Mm.”
“Mm what?”
“I understand what the young lady means.”
Jiang Yinyue said no more. Huddled under the quilt, she recalled Wei Qin’s confession. Besides the incredulity, it felt like a pair of invisible hands drumming at her heart.
Wei Qin liked her.
He actually liked her.
When Wei Qin finished cleaning and approached again, he had just sat on the edge of the bed when the Jiang Yinyue, wrapped up like a silkworm chrysalis, demanded he sleep on the floor.
She wasn’t worried anymore about the Wei family members seeing and causing extra complications.
Her little mouth pouted, a bit spoiled, but her blushing cheeks betrayed her inner panic—the panic of not knowing how to get along with Wei Qin.
The next morning, the drooping silk crabapple flowers drew bees and butterflies, while the purple-leaf peach blossoms bloomed in vibrant splendor.
Jiang Yinyue woke amid the floral fragrance. Still groggy, she rolled over to face outward and was startled by the flower garland on her pillow, instantly banishing her sleepiness.
It was just past the hour of Yin. The rustle of clothing came from outside the canopy bed. A layer of curtains blocked her view. Jiang Yinyue sat still, her foot dangling out from the quilt unconsciously curling up.
She steadied her breathing, lifted the curtain, and secretly peeked at the man’s back.
His broad shoulders and narrow waist formed a superior silhouette. Wrapped in snow-white undergarments, it was especially pleasing to the eye. Even his back alone was a sight to behold. Once he donned his official robes, it further accentuated his refined elegance.
“You’re awake.”
“No!”
Caught peeking, Jiang Yinyue quickly dropped the curtain and burrowed under the quilt, squeezing her eyes shut. Yet a fresh, crisp scent disturbed her, making her lashes tremble.
Wei Qin lifted the curtain with one hand and stood silently for a long moment before finally sitting on the edge of the bed to gently smooth her disheveled long hair.
The fragrance of flowers clung to his fingertips.
He must have picked fresh flowers early that morning to weave the flower garland, leaving the scent behind.
Jiang Yinyue cracked open one eye, then slowly the other. “What are you doing?”
“A lot of flowers bloomed this morning.”
So? So he wove a flower garland to give her?
An inexplicable sense of pride welled up in Jiang Yinyue’s heart, though she didn’t show it on her face. She sat up with a stern little face and stared at the man’s excessively fair fingers in the dim morning light.
Wei Qin was deft-handed, no less skilled than Hong Mei. Jiang Yinyue put on an air of critique. “It’s fairly exquisite. It would be better with a few more blue flowers, like the rainbow in the sky.”
Wei Qin picked up the flower garland and placed it on her head. His dark pupils reflected the garland’s vibrant colors, and the outline of the fair-skinned beauty.
“I’m off to my shift.”
His tone was casual. Then he suddenly leaned down and kissed Jiang Yinyue’s cheek.
The cool touch startled her spine into stiffness. She forgot to breathe and stared blankly as the man’s back disappeared from the small room.
The floral scent lingered. Only when that crisp aura faded did she gasp for breath, her chest heaving.
The pecked cheek felt cool, yet it scorched her heart.
Jiang Yinyue was even more bewildered.
In the Capital City, Imperial Study.
Smoke wafted gracefully from the gold-inlaid incense burner, filling the air with dragon saliva incense. The Shunren Emperor finished reading the memorial from the Jiangning Commandery Commissioner, then leaned back in the dragon throne with a sigh of relief.
A pair of hands with crimson nails gently pressed on the emperor’s temples, gradually increasing the pressure to just the right degree.
The Shunren Emperor quite enjoyed it and closed his eyes, patting the woman’s waist.
The woman smoothly knelt astride the emperor’s lap, . She hooked the emperor’s hands around her wasp waist and twisted left and right.
With no palace servants in the Imperial Study, the emperor, who had been tense for so long, relaxed after the express messenger from Jiangning delivered good news on a fast horse. He fooled around with the recent addition to his harem. But at the sound of a report, he pushed the beauty away and straightened his dragon robe.
“The Empress has arrived.”
The poised and aloof Empress Dong entered the Imperial Study. While paying her respects, she glanced at the beauty hastily tying her skirt sash.
“Out.”
The beauty didn’t dare linger. She gathered her thick skirts and bowed as she retreated.
The Shunren Emperor rubbed his brow and smiled as he spoke of the crown prince’s recent affairs, praising him lavishly.
Empress Dong’s expression didn’t improve. The indecent laughter of the man and woman seemed to still echo in the study. She should have been used to it by now, but she couldn’t help recalling the year they first met—the irresistible attraction and temptation in each other’s eyes.
Back then, as crown prince, the Shunren Emperor had only one wife, her best friend. Yet she had canceled her own engagement to vie for a man’s favor with her friend.
If not truly moved, how could she have gone that far?
The emperor was both affectionate and callous, enamored with the new and tired of the old, yet laughably claimed to cherish the past.
He often spoke of his guilt toward his first wife.
An emperor’s heart was not to be probed.
“My father has been ill with a chill all winter and hasn’t recovered. I am worried and wish to return to the mansion to visit him.”
Grand Secretary Dong’s health had declined greatly in recent years, fainting several times at morning court. The Shunren Emperor said warmly, “Convey Our regards to your father. Tell him not to overwork himself. Cabinet affairs can be handled by other grand scholars.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your concern.”
Empress Dong stayed for the time it took to drink a cup of tea before turning to leave. As she exited the Imperial Study, the brilliant sunlight made her squint. Amid the dazzling light, she saw a figure in scarlet robes approaching slowly.
The middle-aged man was tall and handsome, with a short beard. His peach-blossom eyes held a half-smile as he bowed from afar to Empress Dong. “This humble subject greets the Empress.”
Seeing Minister Jiang, Empress Dong’s tense jaw relaxed slightly. She raised a faint smile. “Is Minister Jiang here to see His Majesty?”
“The Ministry of Justice has made progress on a major case. This humble subject comes to report to His Majesty.”
Mentioning the major case reminded Empress Dong of the assassination three years prior. Both the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review had failed, not capturing a single live assailant. Those assassins were mostly dead soldiers who bit their tongues and died. The mastermind behind them remained unknown.
The greatest suspicion had fallen on the Cui Clan. But that year, Grand Tutor Cui’s eldest son, Cui Wei, improved the fire weapons and led the Divine Machine Camp to repel the enemy on the northern border, earning great military merit. With no evidence pointing to the Cui Clan, not only did they escape unscathed, they shone brightly that year, with Cui Wei becoming the war god general of the dynasty.
Empress Dong had no interest in rehashing old matters. She exchanged pleasantries with Jiang Song and led her people out of the palace.
Jiang Song was heading to the Imperial Study when he too spotted an approaching figure.
Grand Tutor Cui Shengzhi shook his feather fan and smiled as he passed Empress Dong.
One after another, hypocrites full of schemes, all wearing masks in this deep palace.
Jiang Song cupped his hands, his peach-blossom eyes sparkling with laughter.
Grand Tutor Cui stopped before Jiang Song and asked hoarsely, “Is Minister Jiang also here to see His Majesty?”
“Indeed. Age before beauty, please, Grand Tutor.”
Grand Tutor Cui wasn’t polite. He smiled and patted Jiang Song’s shoulder. “This old man likes how perceptive Minister Jiang is. Let’s share a drink another day.”
He deliberately emphasized “likes” and increased the force of his pat.
“I’d be honored.” Jiang Song let the elder go first, then waited quietly outside the Imperial Study, smiling as he smoothed the wrinkle on his shoulder.
Different paths meant no common ground for scheming.
That evening, returning to his lavish yet empty mansion, Jiang Song took the letter handed over by the steward.
It was a letter from his daughter.
That bratty girl always wrote to deliberately rile him up. Other families had little padded jackets; his was…