Jiang Yinyue lowered her head and gazed at the hand pressed against her chest. Her long lashes trembled lightly with her accelerating heartbeat, her toes curled tightly inward on either side, and her whole body was tense and awkward.
“Your hand…”
Wei Qin withdrew his hand and simply stared at her, not concealing his blatant desire.
Even the most stoic person, at the age of vigorous blood and energy upon encountering someone they adored, might break through their restraint and find it hard to hold back.
The emotions he stirred were gripped in his fingertips, which flushed red.
But could the snow lotus atop the cliff withstand the intense blaze of the sun it so longed for?
In the post station where the bed curtains danced lightly with the wind, Wei Xichen was roused from his dream by the black flood dragon.
The black flood dragon summoned clouds and rain, coiling menacingly in the sky, its tail wrapped around a woman dressed in nightclothes. Her skin was whiter than snow, and a suspicious flush spread across her face.
After Wei Xichen clearly saw the woman’s features, he wanted to rescue her, but the vast distance between heaven and earth gave him a sense of powerlessness for the first time. It was in this powerlessness that he slowly opened his eyes.
Just before his consciousness fully returned, the black flood dragon seemed to plunge from the clouds toward him.
“Meow~”
The tabby cat lying on the brocade quilt scooted closer and nestled into his neck, seeking warmth.
The summer night was mild, yet solitude bred chill.
Wei Xichen rested one hand on his forehead and felt an inexplicable irritability.
In the early morning, fine rain slanted and intertwined, cloaking the long street in hazy mist. Jiang Yinyue took Qi Bao with her to the Huai Jin County Princess Mansion.
The moment she “snatched” Qi Bao back, Jiang Yinyue knew clearly that from then on, no matter the wind or rain, she would take Qi Bao out without fail. The spacious County Princess Mansion was plenty big for Qi Bao to expend its energy.
A thunderclap boomed outside the windows of the County Princess Mansion.
It was the first thunderstorm since the start of summer.
Cui Shihan, who had been chatting privately with Jiang Yinyue, took a sip of hot tea and teased, “Want some wine?”
“I was still feverish yesterday.”
“I’m just kidding. If I got you drunk again, Wei Qin would hunt me down.”
Mentioning Wei Qin, Cui Shihan grinned and asked, “So when do you two plan to have a child?”
Jiang Yinyue took a sip of tea and mumbled, “Not yet.”
“You’ve been married for three years.”
“Still early.”
Cui Shihan rubbed her chin. “He isn’t incapable, is he?”
Jiang Yinyue nearly choked on her tea and instinctively defended, “He is!”
Then she pressed her lips together.
Whether he was or not, she didn’t actually know.
Cui Shihan couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing with a “pfft.” “Wait, you two haven’t consummated yet, have you?”
That explained the shy hesitation; a woman married for three years shouldn’t react like this.
The girl acted as if she’d uncovered a huge secret, clutching her stomach and doubling over with exaggerated laughter, making Jiang Yinyue’s face flush pale then red.
“Stop laughing.”
“Seriously, no consummation?”
Cui Shihan tucked her legs onto the cushioned stool, unsure which of the young couple lacked enthusiasm, given their public affection but private distance.
“Tell me about it?”
Jiang Yinyue regarded Cui Shihan as a kindred friend and didn’t hide anything, candidly sharing her changing feelings along the journey.
Cui Shihan, who rarely stayed quiet, listened attentively, her deep smile tinged with a trace of complexity.
As noon approached, the thunder ceased and the rain let up. Cui Shihan pulled Jiang Yinyue to her feet. “Come on, let’s change up our flavors.”
“What do you want to eat?”
“What about you?”
Jiang Yinyue took the lead, bringing Cui Shihan to the noodle shop run by the three Han siblings.
Continuing to patronize them.
Qi Bao, tired from playing, lay snoring in the courtyard.
In the modestly busy little shop, Han Yan and Han Xun worked in tandem—one in the back kitchen, the other greeting guests.
“Where’s Han Jian?”
Han Xun led the two women to a corner table. “Brother went to buy ingredients.”
“Two steamer baskets of shaomai.”
The steaming shaomai arrived. Jiang Yinyue bit into one, savored it carefully, and gave a thumbs-up to the expectant Han Xun.
“Perfect taste.”
Han Xun beamed with joy. The three siblings had studied the old shopkeeper’s secret recipe day and night, improving it time and again, and finally made a breakthrough.
As long as the flavor was authentic, business wouldn’t be a worry.
“Boss lady, six steamer baskets of shaomai.”
“Coming right up.”
Han Xun hurried to the back kitchen to serve the newly arrived four guests.
One of the four, a young dandy in a floral robe, eyed Han Xun up and down and joked to his companion, “This one’s the younger sister—more charm than the older one.”
His companion ogled her brazenly and, as Han Xun approached the table, teased, “The table’s a bit dirty.”
Han Xun saw the spotless surface but didn’t argue. She took a cloth, leaned over to wipe it, and apologized verbally.
Business was tough; she had to accommodate guests as much as possible.
But the next instant, her eyes widened. “You!”
The two playboys feigned innocence and chorused, “What’s with us?”
Han Xun flung the cloth and splashed free tea in one man’s face.
The dandy flew into a rage and raised his hand. “Stinking wench, how dare you!”
“How dare you!”
Before that dandy could swing, a silver whip lashed out, striking his palm squarely.
“Ah!”
The dandy staggered back, accidentally toppling a long bench.
The other three rose one after another, all turning to the sporty girl who had whipped.
One recognized her identity, and his anger instantly extinguished.
“It’s the Huai Jin County Princess.”
Cui Shihan came to Han Xun’s side and glared coldly at the four dandy playboys. She wanted to say something intimidating to deter future trouble but was at a loss for words, unsure how to bolster the three siblings’ momentum without knowing their story.
Jiang Yinyue whispered a few words in her ear.
Cui Shihan snorted. “Listen up, you four. Don’t think these sisters have no backing. Their brother once served in the Eastern Palace—tremendously strong and fierce, one of His Highness the Crown Prince’s personal guards. This time, accompanying His Highness back to his Yangzhou hometown, he was granted leave by His Highness to retire with his two sisters and open this noodle shop. Even this County Princess looks after them. If you four dare make trouble again…”
“Got it, got it!”
“We wouldn’t dare!”
One pulled out a silver ingot and placed it gingerly on the table to placate.
Cui Shihan snapped, “Scram!”
The four slipped away like greased lightning.
Han Xun and Han Yan, who had rushed out from the back kitchen upon hearing the commotion, thanked Cui Shihan and Jiang Yinyue profusely.
Han Jian, returning a bit later and hearing about it, gazed toward the Wei Residence with a complicated expression.
The retired swordsman, thinking all dust had settled, felt ripples stir in his heart once more.
Ripples born of gratitude.
That evening, Qi Bao trotted excitedly up to Wei Qin, who had just returned from duty, with a new toy in its mouth.
Wei Qin looked toward his wife, who sat enjoying the cool in the small courtyard. “Did you sew it, miss?”
“Han Jian brought it.”
Jiang Yinyue pointed to the cured meats Du Juan had hung on the bamboo pole to dry. “Those are from Han Jian too. I had Cheng Shen make cured meat rice.”
Cheng Shen, the Wei family’s cook, was busy at the stove.
Cooking smoke curled lazily, and the aroma of rice wafted everywhere.
Wei Qin sat beside Jiang Yinyue and said flatly, “No appetite.”
“You don’t like cured meat?”
“Not particularly.”
Jiang Yinyue, who had never known Wei Qin to be picky, tilted her head to look at his face. “What other ingredients don’t you like? I’ll make a note.”
Wei Qin, who never picked at food, expressionlessly listed a few.
Jiang Yinyue nodded earnestly and called Du Juan over. “Tell Cheng Shen to buy less of those ingredients from now on.”
“Got it, Second Young Madam!”
Wei Qin’s expression didn’t soften.
Jiang Yinyue’s makeup and hair were different today—her lip rouge a bit brighter, a hand-woven flower in her bun.
A gift from the Han sisters.
Wei Qin took note. The three siblings wouldn’t offer courtesy without reason. After asking the story, he braced his hands on his knees, stood, and headed to the bedroom. “Cured meat rice sounds good.”
“Huh?”
What was with him?
Jiang Yinyue was utterly baffled.
The next morning, Wei Qin went on duty as usual. On the sparsely peopled long street, he spotted Cui Shihan leaning against a tree trunk again.
Cui Shihan had changed into women’s attire, a hand-woven flower in her hair.
The girl suppressed a grin, implying something. “Lifesaving grace—I’ll never forget it. Benefactor, whatever you need, just say the word.”
Hearing the teasing, Wei Qin, who didn’t get it, ignored her. As he passed, he heard a jab…
“Benefactor’s in his prime, unable to claim the beauty—must be frustrating, right? Want me to help you two get together?”
Wei Qin halted, turned his head to the mischievous girl. “Mind your own business.”
Cui Shihan gathered her sleeves and trotted after him, her petite frame not reaching his shoulder. “I’m younger than you, but way more experienced. I guarantee…”
“More experienced?” Wei Qin frowned slightly, his tone like an elder scolding a junior. “Cui. Shi. Han.”
The chilly morning breeze dispersed the summer heat. Beneath Wei Qin’s stern demeanor, even the wild, unruly girl cowed. She backed away, hiked her skirt, and dashed into a nearby alley, vanishing in a blink.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yinyue stifled a laugh at Han Jian, who had come to thank her again.
Han Jian handed over a bag. “These are new pastries I made.”
Jiang Yinyue said helplessly, “It was the County Princess who acted; I feel undeserving.”
“The County Princess is your friend.”
Jiang Yinyue chuckled. “A token of goodwill is enough—no need to be overly polite. Don’t make a special trip next time.”
Han Jian nodded glumly, words dying on his lips.
Qi Bao stuck close to Jiang Yinyue’s leg, occasionally looking up at its owner with dependence and delight.
The swordsman, whose heart had turned to ash, suddenly felt a warm light pierce his heart’s door.
Would such a woman truly abandon her beloved between life and death?
No.
Han Jian recalled that day’s scene: the instant he found Yan Zhuyu, the instant he saw a brocade-clad youth helped up by his young miss— he vaguely sensed their master-servant fates were about to change.
Nothing else; that youth exuded an air of wealth and nobility, and from what he knew of his young miss, she wouldn’t casually help others, let alone in a crisis of flashing blades.
She seemed to stake everything, gambling for a chance to turn the tables.
And he had become her aid—a wind summoned at will and dismissed at whim, helping her soar to the branches.
Pushing others down the well brought no regrets; he was a marionette without will or conscience, until meeting Jiang Yinyue.
A woman who bargained with him repeatedly over a stubborn foal, undeterred; who rushed into a sea of flames to save her husband; who laughed that white suited him; who offered no cold words in his destitution…
She taught him that human hearts were warm.
Now, he should prove Jiang Yinyue’s innocence, at least counter those who had slandered and doubted her. But once revealed, even if only covering for Yan Zhuyu, it was a dead end with the Crown Prince.
Their lie was deceiving the sovereign.
The silent swordsman clenched his fists, torn by conflict.
“Leaving.”
“Take care.” Jiang Yinyue watched him go, sensing something off. “Han Jian, do you have something on your mind?”
The swordsman didn’t stop, waving a hand over his shoulder without turning.
Back at the noodle shop, a light rain fell again. Han Jian washed his hands, entered the kitchen to knead dough listlessly, then called his two sisters and gave instructions—including whom to seek if wronged.
Han Yan and Han Xun listened in confusion.
“Bro, what are you doing?”
“Righting a wrong.” Han Jian shaped a steamer of shaomai, washed the flour from his hands, opened an umbrella, and stepped into the rain.
In that chaos, he had unwittingly witnessed another scene.
He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone afterward, not even Yan Zhuyu.
A large group of assassins chased a girl with drawn blades.
He hid in the bushes, didn’t help, and later didn’t testify for the girl who couldn’t clear her name—for back then, his heart belonged to Yan Zhuyu, content to be a heartless puppet.
This atonement came late, but it was his considered decision. From the moment he fully despaired of Yan Zhuyu, he had weighed the pros and cons; for him, the cons far outweighed the pros.
But he had to be kind once in this life.
As for the consequences…
When Yan Mansion was ransacked, the Crown Prince had spared all the household servants. Surely this wouldn’t implicate his family either.
The swordsman tossed aside the oiled paper umbrella and strode toward the post station. While the Crown Prince was still in Yangzhou and while his courage had not yet waned, he wanted to clear Jiang Yinyue’s name.
Upon arriving at the post station, the swordsman, who had not revealed his purpose, was stopped outside.
Fu Zhongcai smiled. “If you have any matter, this servant can relay it for you.”
One did not easily gain an audience with the Heir Apparent.
Already taciturn, Han Jian was also extremely stubborn. “Please trouble Steward Fu to pass on the message. This commoner has an urgent matter to report.”
“This servant said, any matter can be relayed by this servant.”
A matter that could cost one’s head—how could Han Jian casually mention it to him? He retreated to a short distance away and waited in the rain for the Crown Prince to appear.
From dawn until dusk, and then until the moon hung high in the sky.
Fu Zhongcai shook his head and walked out of the post station once more. “Come over. His Highness summons you.”
Han Jian abruptly stood, staggering on his feet. He then shook his head and followed Fu Zhongcai up to the second floor.
Just beyond the door, he vaguely glimpsed a slender, refined figure.
“What is it?”
Confirming it was the Crown Prince’s voice, Han Jian bowed. “This commoner has a disgraceful secret that he wishes to confess to Your Highness.”
“Oh?” The man in the room chuckled lightly, accompanied by the tabby cat’s delicate mewls. “Confess then. This Prince is listening.”
Han Jian clasped his chilled hands, his heart pounding like a drum as he recounted the scene he had personally witnessed three years prior.
Silence fell around them. The only other person present, Fu Zhongcai, swallowed hard. “You can’t just make up such a thing!”
“This commoner stakes his life on it. It is the strict truth.”
Fu Zhongcai looked anxiously at the tightly shut door. “Your Highness…”
“Bang!”
A fire musket rang out, making the listeners’ ears ring.
A hole appeared in the door panel.
Han Jian collapsed to the ground, blood flowing nonstop from his left chest.
“Your Highness… Your Highness, please quell your anger…” Terrified, Fu Zhongcai hurriedly knelt and tremblingly checked Han Jian’s injury. Fortunately, it had not struck anything vital.
Just beyond the door, Wei Xichen, who had originally been holding the tabby cat with a amiable expression, now had eyes sharp and exceptionally fierce.
They then turned hollow.
Han Jian had said that three years ago, Jiang Yinyue had been pursued by a group of assassins.