In a flurry of chaos, the guards carried Wei Xichen into the Wei Residence.
The Wei Residence was quite small and lacked a guest room for entertaining. Jiang Yinyue led the guards to Hanlan Courtyard and settled Wei Xichen on the small couch in the West Wing Room.
Fu Zhongcai, who had sent for the imperial physician, wore a mournful expression as he choked out, “Your Highness handles everything personally. It must be that overwork has led to illness!”
The imperial physician arrived, medicine chest on his back. The sixty-year-old man was drenched in sweat but still washed his hands before taking Wei Xichen’s pulse.
Jiang Yinyue stood at the door, arms crossed, watching Fu Zhongcai bustle about anxiously. She had never seen the Eastern Palace Chief Steward so distraught.
In short order, the imperial physician emerged from the West Wing Room. “Your Highness is in no serious danger. It’s excessive liver fire causing disordered qi and blood, with acute fire attacking the heart. He will wake on his own shortly.”
Fu Zhongcai stepped forward. “Do we need to apply needles or medicine?”
The imperial physician nodded and borrowed the Wei family’s stove to brew some heart-clearing, fire-reducing soup.
Fu Zhongcai dismissed the hidden guards and stood alone by Wei Xichen’s couch, silently facing away from Jiang Yinyue, who leaned against the door.
Barking came from outside the small courtyard. It was Qi Bao, held back and yapping.
It barked frantically and restlessly.
It was worried about its master too, no doubt.
Fu Zhongcai wiped his face and rasped to Jiang Yinyue behind him, “Old afflictions are hard to cure. The arrow wound Your Highness suffered for his lady often flares up during excessive anger, worry, pensiveness, or sorrow. The old affliction has become a disease of the heart. Lady, don’t take offense at this old servant’s meddling, but Your Highness’s heart ailment stems from you.”
Anger, worry, pensiveness, sorrow, fear, surprise, joy—the seven emotions of man. Jiang Yinyue occupied more than half of Wei Xichen’s.
At first, the old eunuch couldn’t discern the source of the crown prince’s heart ailment, but now, from an observer’s perspective, it was crystal clear.
The person Your Highness never mentioned was precisely the “heart ailment” he dared not face directly.
“So, it’s all my fault?”
Jiang Yinyue tilted her head back, arms still crossed, gazing at the overcast sky. She had pondered it endlessly: what had she done wrong that she still hadn’t earned Crown Prince Brother’s trust? Was it her recklessness, arrogance, conceit, and hubris that made her seem utterly untrustworthy in his eyes?
She had nearly died under the assassin’s blade, only to receive endless doubts and scoldings.
Would he only see her sincerity and trust her completely if she actually died by the assassin’s hand?
But what meaning would that hold for her?
Later, she saw it clearly. The imperial family was heartless; most sincere affections in the world ended up betrayed, like the Yide Empress.
The crown prince’s path to emperorship was destined to sever the seven emotions amid endless suspicion, paving a bloody staircase toward solitude, step by step.
She was merely one slab on that bloody staircase.
Perhaps withdrawing sooner would allow a cleaner escape, while those ministers, close aides, and advisors who accompanied the Heir Apparent to the top might not meet good ends.
“Has Chief Steward Fu ever considered, if it had been you that year facing the choice—flee alone or draw the assassins away?” Jiang Yinyue paused, then shook her head. “The outcome would have been the same.”
Fu Zhongcai fell silent and turned to look at the woman’s back.
Indeed, whoever it had been would have faced Jiang Yinyue’s choice, and the outcome would have been the same. It was just that Jiang Yinyue’s luck had been poorer, landing her at that fateful crossroads. But no matter which path she chose, it led to the abyss.
Fleeing alone would be seen as disloyal. Luring away the assassins and surviving by luck would invite questions about why they had spared her.
It was the paranoia of those in high positions.
A pure heart was doomed to betrayal.
The old eunuch had meant to speak for his master, yet the woman’s hypothesis left him speechless.
Jiang Yinyue glanced sideways, her brows and eyes coldly somber. “If Chief Steward Fu wants to meddle, then advise His Highness more. Since the source of his suspicions has been dealt with, he should place the piece without regret, unswayed by guilt. The heart ailment will heal on its own.”
Qi Bao outside the courtyard had barked itself out and fallen quiet.
Wasn’t that restless heart tired yet?
The wind had blown for three years; it was time to turn the page where the story had stalled.
Jiang Yinyue said no more and harbored no further gloom over Wei Xichen.
In the evening, the clouds parted and the mists cleared. The firmament turned clear and bright, glowing with radiant sunset hues. Wei Qin returned home bathed in the evening glow and first went to check on the still-unconscious Heir Apparent.
“Your Highness is feverish?”
Fu Zhongcai replied helplessly, “Yes, the fever started in the latter half of the afternoon. We’ve troubled Transport Judge Wei.”
“Chief Steward is too polite.”
Wei Qin returned to the East Wing Room and closed the door, pulling his wife back from where she leaned by the window. “What are you thinking?”
“When they might leave.”
Wei Qin closed the window, fully blocking the gazes from outside.
But with the doors and windows shut tight in summer, the wing room was stiflingly hot and stuffy. Jiang Yinyue wanted to push the window open again, but Wei Qin pulled her back.
Some people’s aversion showed on their faces; others hid it in their hearts.
Realizing what Wei Qin minded, Jiang Yinyue chuckled and didn’t insist. She took out a round fan and fanned lightly. Fine sweat beaded on her neck, where her hair piled up.
With outsiders present, bathing was inconvenient, so she could only wipe down simply with warm water.
After wiping her entire body behind the screen, Jiang Yinyue wanted to change into fresh clothes. She peeked out at Wei Qin, who was dozing on the couch, and tiptoed toward the cabinet by the couch.
In the sweltering room, silk suddenly seemed less cool than ramie. With a thought, Miss Jiang took out Wei Qin’s ramie outer robe and slipped it on.
The loose, grayish-blue garment dragged on the floor. She stood before the bronze mirror, tied the sash, and twisted her waist experimentally, finding it novel.
Thinking of Cui Shihan, who often disguised herself as a man, she hiked up the hem, ran to the vanity, and took a plain hairpin to bundle her long hair. But no matter what, her delicate face didn’t look like that of a dashing young man.
Just as she wondered why she lacked Cui Shihan’s roguish flair, an aggressively handsome face suddenly appeared in the bronze mirror.
“You’re awake…”
Wei Qin’s gaze swept over his wife’s flushed, fair face, then drifted downward, silently appraising something.
Jiang Yinyue curled her toes in embarrassment and immediately pulled out the hairpin, tossing it on the vanity. “Ramie is cooler.”
“Mm.”
After giving her reasonable explanation, Jiang Yinyue sidled away stealthily, trying to retreat behind the screen. But as she shifted, she unwittingly exposed a bare leg.
The woman, wearing only the outer robe, hastily gathered the loose hem, her steps heavy as lead.
The short distance from the bronze mirror to the screen became an endless road.
Squelch.
She stepped on the hem and thudded to her knees beside Wei Qin.
She had performed a grand salute.
Total chaos for one person.
Wei Qin coughed into his fist, stepped forward to help her up, patted the dust from her knees, and then scooped her up horizontally.
Jiang Yinyue immediately wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from sliding down.
But the ill-fitting hem slipped aside.
A pair of fair, tender legs appeared before them.
Wei Qin’s gaze, which should have shifted away, lingered.
Jiang Yinyue flushed as she covered the hem, so embarrassed she kicked off her shoes, her jade feet with nowhere to settle.
She was practically cooked shrimp all over.
“Put me down.”
Wei Qin carried her to the couch and, as she tried to flee, suddenly gripped her waist and pressed her to sit on his lap.
He knew she wasn’t playing hard to get, yet he still struggled to rein in his surging desire.
“Miss.”
“Put me down.”
Lost in her embarrassment, Jiang Yinyue only wanted to change back into her dress quickly and didn’t notice the restraint in Wei Qin’s voice.
Low and deep, almost hoarse.
“You…”
When she twisted to look behind her, her waist was suddenly gripped tight. Through the lightweight ramie fabric, she felt the pressure from Wei Qin’s fingertips gradually intensifying.
“What are you doing…”
In their usual interactions, Jiang Yinyue was always relaxed and at ease. But since arriving in Yangzhou, she vaguely felt Wei Qin’s attitude toward her had changed—no longer yielding to her in every way.
He had become inscrutable.
Especially the aura that erupted in the darkness, carrying an indefinable aggression beyond that of the self-disciplined scholar.
In a few moments, he seemed like a different person, his majesty innate, noble and stern.
Jiang Yinyue felt utterly unfamiliar with this Wei Qin. Her body trembled uncontrollably, the shivers transmitting through her clothes to his palm.
The man closed his eyes, released his grip, and let the woman in his arms scamper away in embarrassment.
Rustling sounds came from behind the screen. Shortly, the woman emerged in a fresh dress and hurried past the couch.
Wei Qin’s hand on the couch railing slowly clenched. He rose and went to the door to “check on” the guest opposite.
As soon as he opened it, he saw several stuffed dolls piled by the door—all handmade by Jiang Yinyue.
Qi Bao squatted at the threshold, whimpering “woof woof.”
Wei Qin understood. It was worried about the man in the West Wing and wanted to use the dolls to trade for their help.
Wei Qin rubbed Qi Bao’s head. “He’s fine.”
“Woof woof.”
Hearing the noise, Jiang Yinyue hurried out, led Qi Bao away from Hanlan Courtyard to distract it.
Wei Qin entered the West Wing and saw Wei Xichen, now awake, propped against the bedhead as Fu Zhongcai fed him soup medicine spoonful by spoonful.
“How does Your Highness feel?”
“No matter. We’ve imposed.”
“Qi Bao was very worried about Your Highness.”
Wei Xichen’s expression was flat and emotionless. His slightly furrowed brows relaxed as the door to the East Wing opened. He suddenly smiled, finished the bowl of soup medicine, and left with his entourage.
The bitterness of the soup lingered on his tongue but vanished tracelessly. The faint pain in his heart found no relief.
Soon, Qi Bao darted into the West Wing and nipped at Jiang Yinyue’s skirt hem, whining.
Jiang Yinyue soothed it. “He’s gone. No serious harm. Don’t worry.”
Wei Qin stood by the door, lost in thought.
Jiang Yinyue stole a glance. That eerie unfamiliarity had vanished. Had she overthought it?
As night fell, Manager Xie hobbled through the alleyways on his crutch, whistling every hundred steps. He received no response until he reached the Wei Residence, where a filthy figure blocked him.
“Where’d you hide?”
Manager Xie pinched his nose and recoiled, face full of disgust.
Now in a fresh outfit, Yan Yi snorted. “The stables.”
“Hid there all day?”
“Do you know how perilous today was?” Yan Yi grumbled as he shook horse dung from his clothes. “The crown prince actually fainted at the Wei family gate and was carried inside. This young master nearly got exposed.”
“Idiot.”
“Dog thing.”
Manager Xie jabbed Yan Yi’s back hard with his crutch to vent his anger. “Ever thought of the consequences if caught?”
“Don’t worry. If caught, this young master would just…”
“Shut up.”
Yan Yi ground his molars, eager to wash off the horse dung stench, and leaped away. Thick bandages still wrapped his right palm.
Manager Xie watched the youth’s figure and shook his head. This guy had nearly implicated the young master.
“It’s you.”
A female voice rang out abruptly, startling Manager Xie into a shiver, nearly cracking his voice.
“You—you are?”
Wei Ying, returning from the clinic with medicine, smiled awkwardly. “I’ve long admired your name…”
“Ah, a lady who doesn’t know Manager Xie yet has long admired Manager Xie’s great name.”
Wei Ying led Miaodie up to the hunched man and looked around with her lantern. “Who were you just talking to?”
“Talking to myself.” Manager Xie poked the ground with his crutch. “A lonely soul like me talks to himself.”
Wei Ying nodded as if she understood.
Miaodie muttered, “Doesn’t the manager have mountains of wealth? Why is he all alone?”
“Who says rich merchants can’t be lonely? Emperors and generals are lonely too—the higher you climb, the colder it gets!”
Miaodie’s mouth twitched. She pulled her young miss through the gate, not wanting further contact with the scruffy man.
Wei Ying grabbed a handful of malt candies from her paper bag and offered them to Manager Xie. When he didn’t take them, she shook her hand.
Having been forbidden as a child from playing with neighbor kids, Wei Ying understood Manager Xie’s loneliness.
Late at night, after bathing, Jiang Yinyue leaned on the bed, shelling hazelnuts Wei Ying had bought, one by one. Her gaze drifted now and then to Wei Qin, who sat at the table reviewing official documents.
He usually didn’t bring documents home. Had he heard the crown prince had collapsed at their gate and rushed back with them?
“It’s late. Careful not to hurt your eyes.”
Wei Qin kept flipping through the documents, showing little reaction.
Jiang Yinyue plated the peeled hazelnuts without offering them up like a treasure in a bid to please. Her tone carried a hint of pride. “Do you want some? If not, forget it.”
Wei Qin closed the official document and placed it into the drawer of the shelf before walking to the bedside. He sat down along the edge of the bed, his spread-out robe revealing the long legs clad in undergarments beneath.
Thinking of the embarrassment from earlier that day, Jiang Yinyue averted her eyes. She picked up a hazelnut and held it to his lips.
But he dodged it.
The rejected Eldest Miss Jiang laughed. “Just eat one.”
“I don’t have the habit of eating late-night snacks.”
Jiang Yinyue placed the whole plate of hazelnuts on the bed and said with a taut little face, “You have to give me some time to accept your…”
Her feelings.
“How long?”
Wei Qin lifted his eyelids. His tone was ordinary, but it was far from open to negotiation. She didn’t know if it had to do with Wei Xichen usurping his place that day.
For something that should take its natural course, how could Jiang Yinyue calculate it? From the forced kiss until now, she felt she was slowly accepting it, but she still couldn’t fully embrace that kind of scorching, entwining intimacy.
It would take time to adjust.
In their past interactions, she had always thought they were just partnering up to get by, able to part ways decently at any time. Only after he expressed his feelings did she realize that only she wanted to partner up to get by—Wei Qin wanted to live properly with her for the rest of their days.
“One month…”
“Fine.”
Jiang Yinyue was always one who yielded to a soft approach but not a hard one. After meekly giving her promise, she suddenly felt unbalanced. She glared at Wei Qin, who had effortlessly taken control of her with minimal effort, then leaned in and bit down hard on his left shoulder.
Right through his clothes.
The movement also knocked over the fruit plate on the bed.
Wei Qin was quick-eyed and quick-handed. He grabbed the plate, but the hazelnuts still scattered across the floor.
The bite on his shoulder was neither painful nor itchy. He gripped the back of Eldest Miss Jiang’s neck and forced her head back.
“Satisfied now?”
Hearing the lightly coaxing tone, Jiang Yinyue immediately upped the ante. “Two months.”
“No.”
Jiang Yinyue yanked his hand away and stood up in a huff. She bent down to pick up the hazelnuts on the floor, putting them back into the plate one by one.
Some of the hazelnuts had rolled under the bed frame. She got down on the floor and crawled under the bed to continue picking them up.
Her prone posture, with her waist dipped low, accentuated the roundness of her buttocks. They swayed slightly with her movements. Her snow-white nightclothes slipped down, revealing a stretch of fair waist.
Wei Qin raised his hand and pressed the bitten spot on his shoulder. He slowly stood up, then squatted down beside the prone woman. His gaze fell on that stretch of fairness.
“Hiss… Ah…”
Jiang Yinyue, who was under the bed, suddenly let out a moan. She bit her lower lip, as if a wild beast had clamped onto her vital point. She didn’t dare move.
The pain coming from her lower back was Wei Qin’s retaliation in kind—with his teeth.