The thin gauze was semi-transparent, faintly revealing two entwined figures.
In the stifling summer gauze canopy, airtight and humid, Jiang Yinyue felt Wei Qin’s body heat for the first time, no different from an ordinary man’s.
The thin fabric was soaked through with their fine sweat; it was unclear whose clothes were wetter.
As they tangled, the high bun Jiang Yinyue had coiled came undone, spilling across the pillow. Even in the dim light, it shimmered like satin.
Soft and silky, thick as algae, it made her face appear even fairer, with a hidden flush.
The scorching heat at the dimple of her waist seeped into her skin, blazing like fire.
Jiang Yinyue twisted her waist, trying to evade it, but her body was pinned by the man in his sleep, unable to move an inch.
“Wei Qin, you’re having a nightmare. What did you dream of?”
Little Lady Jiang stared blankly at the canopy top, murmuring softly to herself. The man beside her suddenly shifted, pressing close to the side of her neck, his chin resting in the hollow of her collarbone.
In his dream, the roaring black flood dragon found a warm nest, coiling and settling there, vigilantly watching the treacherous world.
Its fierce aura turned gentle.
In another canopy, the night breeze stirred, tugging at the jade hooks on the curtains.
The jade clinked against jade, producing a clear, crisp ring.
Amid the pleasing sound of jade, Wei Xichen, also lost in a dream, watched a scene of exquisite beauty like scattered flowers and drifting snow.
The prone man’s figure was upright, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist; as he moved, the lean muscles of his back flowed gracefully.
He could not see the man’s face, only Jiang Yinyue’s damp, tender face below, glistening with luster.
A neat row of teeth marks on her lower lip came from endurance.
She was lifted by the man, her nape pillowed on his arm, her dark hair hanging off the bed’s edge, revealing the center line of the curtain.
The satin sheen of her black hair swayed like water weeds in the current.
A melodious sound spilled from her red lips, carrying the unique clear sweetness of her voice.
Wei Xichen could no longer restrain himself. Ignoring propriety, he crossed the magpie bridge of their marriage bond and parted the gauze curtain blocking him from the pair inside.
This should not be; they should not be so intimate.
Jiang Yinyue should not be so intimate with another!
But the curtain he tore open turned into fine beach sand, slipping through his palm.
He could not grasp it, could not hold it; helplessness spread, like facing a surging ocean, feeling his own insignificance, unable to conquer the waves.
Saltiness of seawater touched his lips.
Warm, moist, seeping between his teeth.
The person in the canopy opened sleepy eyes, the hazy gaze blank.
The corners of his eyes were dry. Was the man in the dream crying?
How laughable.
The Heir Apparent, expected to be indomitable, secretly wept in his dreams.
Unable to distinguish reality from illusion, Wei Xichen sat up abruptly and wiped his eyes. No tears.
The canopy that night was scented with pear fragrance; it was probably this familiar aroma that disturbed his mind.
His moon-white nightclothes were damp with sweat, cooled by the night breeze through the window.
He put on brocade boots and sat with knees drawn up on the bed’s edge, burying his head in his hands.
A miserable scream came from the firewood shed in the inner courtyard of the post station. The sleepless man walked onto the veranda outside and saw a guard emerge from the corner shed, dragging a flailing rat by the tail.
Never seen a rat before?
A lantern lit a patch of night. Wei Xichen approached the shed and dismissed the night guards crowding near.
He pushed open a crack in the door and looked at Yan Zhuyu huddled in the haystack, sobbing bitterly.
If not for the fragrance carried on the breeze, Yan Zhuyu would not have looked up at the “guard” by the door.
But the scent of dragon saliva incense was too rich; one whiff revealed the visitor’s identity.
Your Highness…
The disheveled, wretched woman wept silently, looking pitiful.
Wei Xichen did not enter the shed. He merely gazed coolly at the prisoner who had nothing left after her lies were exposed.
This woman who had replaced Jiang Yinyue at his side.
Yan Zhuyu wept silently, not hiding her destitute and haggard dishevelment. Even at her most glamorous, she had not won his favor; how much less now.
“Does Your Highness wish to reclaim his beloved?”
The lantern flickered in the sway, casting ghostly shadows on his moon-white hem. Wei Xichen, about to turn away, paused, his hem slowly settling.
Giving Yan Zhuyu a chance to continue.
“It’s no use. No matter how this concubine tries to make amends, it’s futile; it cannot erase the prejudice in Your Highness’s heart.”
“Are you sure it’s prejudice?”
“This concubine merely offers an inappropriate analogy. But Lady Jiang does harbor prejudice against Your Highness.”
One sentence pierced the unhealed old wound in Wei Xichen’s heart.
No matter how one made amends, it was futile.
Jiang Yinyue no longer felt mere disappointment toward him; it was indifference.
“Why doesn’t Your Highness change his approach? If amends won’t work, why not seize her by force? After all, she’s just a fledgling from a humble family. Can Your Highness not handle her? Jiang Song would be delighted too; he’s no paragon of integrity, a fox who trims sails to the wind. After all, his loyalty is to the Eastern Palace.”
“What is your purpose in saying this?”
“What purpose could this concubine have? Merely to make up for Your Highness’s regret.”
“Honeyed words and false pretenses.”
Moonlight crept to Wei Xichen’s tense lips, inch by inch light and shadow.
He tossed the lantern to the guard at the door and walked alone into the darkness.
When the neighbor’s rooster crowed at dawn, Wei Qin opened his eyes.
He had slept soundly the latter half of the night, dreamless.
The soft warmth in his arms remained; he tightened his hold, drawing the sleeping Jiang Yinyue closer, his iron arms encircling her waist.
Doors and windows tightly shut, the stuffy stickiness clung, yet he was unwilling to loosen even a fraction.
“Mmm…”
“It’s nothing. Sleep.”
As the person in his arms showed signs of waking, he soothed her softly.
The feigning-sleep Jiang Yinyue cracked one eye and peeked at the man holding her.
Why hold her so tightly even after waking?
She pretended her sleeping posture was restless, kicking her legs to escape the near-suffocating heat, but Wei Qin’s clamped knees gripped harder.
“So hot.”
Wei Qin buried himself in her long hair, inhaling the pear fragrance deeply before slowly parting one side of the canopy and hooking it on the copper hook. He rose, picked up the embroidered shoe Jiang Yinyue had kicked off, and placed it neatly on the footrest. Then he pushed open the window, letting the night breeze pour in.
It blew away the sticky sweat on their bodies.
Jiang Yinyue sat on the bed’s edge, sweating. Her small feet, parted from the covers, still wore silk stockings, askew—one exposing the heel, the other twisted like a braid.
The silk stockings were a bit large.
The detail-oriented Wei Qin returned to the bedside, removed them for her, and held them in one hand.
Jiang Yinyue drew back her feet, covering them with her skirt hem. “What did you dream of?”
“A black flood dragon trapped in a birdcage.”
“Can a birdcage trap a flood dragon?”
“Even a tiger can be bullied by dogs when it’s down in the flatlands.”
Jiang Yinyue watched Wei Qin go to the basin stand to draw water and wash up, then watched him remove his inner robe, baring his sturdy upper body.
The wet cloth wiped over, leaving water trails that soon dried in the breeze.
He did not stop, his hands at the waistband of his trousers.
Jiang Yinyue dared not look further and lowered her head to the dimple at her waist. She had removed her outer robe and folded it at the bed’s foot, slipping under the covers in her inner garments, head covered.
When she sensed movement at the bedside, she peeked out from the covers and gasped, jumping up to press down on her neatly folded outer robe.
“Don’t touch it. Du Juan will take it away in the morning.”
Wei Qin stared at the woman perched on the robe like a little frog, no longer inspecting the suspicious stains. He took a clean cloth and wiped her face.
Jiang Yinyue sprawled over the robe with hands and feet, tilting her face with his pull. Waves of cool moisture passed through the cloth to her cheeks, very refreshing. She closed her eyes to enjoy it until the coolness reached below her collarbone.
“Wei Qin.”
Wei Qin did not stop, bunching the cloth to gently wipe into the gap at her collar.
Nightfall hid the flush on her face but not the burning heat.
Jiang Yinyue clutched her collar and shrank into the bed corner, only to be caught by Wei Qin at her snowy foot.
An itchy sensation came from her sole; she could not help giggling.
“Itchy.”
Wei Qin paused and asked seriously, “Do you want me to continue wiping?”
“Yes…”
Jiang Yinyue gave in bonelessly. She was stifling, drenched in sweat.
The beauty in the canopy was like a painting; outside, branches swayed gracefully, embedded in the nightscape of verdant hues and flowing cinnabar.
Several major salt merchants crept together in a mansion, plotting their escape.
“Yan Hongchang won’t hold out much longer; he’ll confess all our bribes. For now, we must sacrifice pawns to save the chariot, risk our lives to get out of the city. As long as the green hills remain, there’s no worry about firewood!”
“Indeed, that new Transport Judge is impervious to oil and salt, bent on wiping us out. If not now, when?”
“Hmph, I want to fight him to mutual destruction! Without the evidence he provided, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I just can’t figure how a mere Transport Judge, watched by so many eyes, got his hands on ironclad proof!”
“No time for that. Within three days, we’ll leave from different gates and rendezvous in the mountain stream fifty li southeast. Whether to seek new paths or what, we’ll decide then. Urgent now is to flee before the officials issue warrants.”
The salt merchants, huddled for warmth, reached consensus and dispersed.
But contrary to their expectations, the first group passed the gate smoothly; the others grew eager.
From a three-story teahouse not far from one gate, Wei Xichen watched the gate scene through a spyglass. He sent no troops to intercept, nor did he alert them.
Prefect Lin Yu stood by, unable to fathom the Crown Prince’s intent.
Let them escape right under his nose?
“As soon as Your Highness gives the order, this official will have them all rounded up.”
“No need. Leave this task to Wei Qin.”
Not only Lin Yu was stunned; even Fu Zhongcai was baffled. Wei Qin was still recovering; even if his wound was healing without festering, pursuit was inadvisable.
Lin Yu seethed inwardly—a perfect chance for merit handed to Wei Qin on a platter.
But neither dared question the Crown Prince’s decision.
Wei Xichen lowered his hand, no longer watching. His amber eyes were tinged with morning mist, less clear.
That day, when Wei Qin received the Crown Prince’s order, a large force of bailiffs gathered before the Wei Residence, ready to depart.
He had no time to decline.
Watching her husband forced onto the task like a duck to water, Jiang Yinyue’s face turned icy.
It seemed a plum job, but as the saying went, don’t pursue desperate foes. Cornered, they might stake all in mutual destruction with their pursuers. Those major salt merchants kept martial house slaves.
“Be careful!”
Before mounting, under the sunlight, Wei Qin ruffled his wife’s hair.
The frost melted.
Hoofbeats faded into the distance; the impassable alleys before and behind cleared, nosy neighbors shrinking back indoors—some envious, some admiring.
In the daytime, Jiang Yinyue took Du Juan and Qi Bao to visit Han Jian.
Passing the old famed yellow wine shop, Qi Bao sniffed, suddenly broke free of its chain, and darted inside, barking nonstop.
“Qi Bao!”
Jiang Yinyue chased in; Du Juan, following, was stopped.
“The Crown Prince is drinking here. Idlers, keep away!”
Du Juan said anxiously, “My lady—the Second Young Madam—went in. We’re together!”
“Keep away!”
Startled by the guard’s warning, Du Juan retreated and paced outside, but Jiang Yinyue did not emerge with Qi Bao.
The guard ignored her as she ran off, impassively guarding the door.
In the dimly lit shop, Jiang Yinyue looked at Qi Bao on Wei Xichen’s lap, munching snacks. Her glamorous face was colder than the door guards.
“Qi Bao, come.”
“Woof woof.”
Wei Xichen rubbed Qi Bao’s head and sipped his yellow wine leisurely.
Jiang Yinyue sneered coldly. Luring with Qi Bao’s favorite snacks—clearly regretting, wanting it back.
No way!
“Where is Your Highness’s new favorite, the tabby cat?”
Qi Bao bore no grudges; she did.
“At the post station.”
Wei Xichen spoke with a hint of tipsiness.
Jiang Yinyue retorted, “A minister is wounded yet pursuing suspects, while Your Highness lounges here at ease. Appropriate?”
“Wei Qin is weak and could have refused the task.” Wei Xichen leaned against the wall, lifting his gaze lazily from drink. “He didn’t.”
“Could he refuse?”
“He refused the position of salt transport envoy cleanly and neatly.”
“How could he take on a job that endangered his life?”
“The officialdom is full of risks everywhere. If unwilling to take risks, he could just resign.”
Jiang Yinyue was too lazy to listen to his sophistry, and even less willing to argue right and wrong with a drunk person. She stepped forward two paces, grasped Qi Bao’s front paws, and made as if to pull it down from Wei Xichen’s legs.
Drawing closer, upon smelling the unique scent of dragon saliva incense and yellow wine intertwined, her body and mind both recoiled.
Qi Bao whimpered pitifully, stubbornly sprawling at Wei Xichen’s feet while wagging its big tail.
Jiang Yinyue pointed at it, reluctant to scold but forced to threaten, “If you don’t leave, I will.”
Qi Bao immediately stood up and grinned in compromise, but the moment it sensed her softening, it flopped back down.
Wei Xichen gazed at Jiang Yinyue’s side profile. It had been a long time since he had examined her so closely.
Full forehead, perky nose, lively eyes, snow-white skin, petite ears, graceful…
His actions outpaced his thoughts. He suddenly gripped her slender arm. “Niannian.”
Jiang Yinyue flung his hand away at once, straightened up, and coldly glared at the man with his hazy eyes.
Wei Xichen leaned against the worn wall of the wine shop, his face slightly tilted upward. He showed no resistance to her hostility. He reached out again, forcibly seizing that slender arm despite her shaking and shoving, and yanked her into his embrace.
“Niannian.”
“Let go of me!”
Wei Xichen sat unmoving. One large hand clamped onto Jiang Yinyue’s unbalanced body, restraining her attempt to rise.
In the dim and cramped little wine shop, no trace of the shopkeeper couple appeared. The front door and backyard teemed with hidden dark guards.
Jiang Yinyue jabbed her elbow into the man’s chest and struggled fiercely. “Wei Xichen, you’re not drunk!”
Pain throbbed from the old wound on his chest. Wei Xichen endured the discomfort and pressed down on Jiang Yinyue’s back.
The chair legs scraped with a harsh grind.
“Woof!” Qi Bao clamped its jaws on Wei Xichen’s hem and yanked outward with force, its tail no longer wagging.
Wei Xichen rose smoothly, trapping Jiang Yinyue between himself and the wine table. “Niannian, return to this prince’s side, hm?”
Start over.
Wine jars and utensils crashed to the ground. Amid the clinking and clattering of shattering, a clear, resounding slap rang out.
“Slap!”
It veered off, striking the Heir Apparent’s handsome jade-like face.