Residual snow turned into flying petals, falling into the twilight chill.
That night, the group stayed in the mountain wilds.
Jiang Yinyue looked at the terrain map hand-drawn by Wei Qin and pointed to one spot. “Once we cross the snow mountain ahead, we’ll reach the post station by the official road. Then we can find an excuse to pass through.”
She picked up a wild fruit that Wei Qin had gathered from who knew where and bit into it with a crisp sound. The sourness made her almond eyes squint, but she took another bite of the pancake in her left hand. She ate like this, alternating bites of fruit and pancake.
By the time Wei Qin returned with dry firewood, she had jumped down from the carriage and squatted nearby to light the fire starter, igniting the small campfire she had built herself.
Along the way, Wei Qin had handled all the chores except for making fire.
A young official from the Chamberlain’s Office happened to pass by. He saw Wei Qin standing in an open area away from the clusters of campfires and gave Jiang Yinyue a meaningful look. “Is this still the eldest Miss Jiang whose delicate hands never touched spring water? Compiler Wei is truly fortunate to have Miss Jiang roll up her sleeves to cook for him.”
Jiang Yinyue raised her eyebrows as she boiled water and recognized him. Before she became the laughingstock of the entire Capital City, he had repeatedly sent matchmakers to the Jiang Mansion three times with intentions of marriage alliance from his prominent family. But after learning of the Crown Prince’s “intentions,” he immediately gave up and soon married the seventh miss from the household of the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works.
“Merely making fire and boiling water—does Lord Zhao find that so strange?”
“For other women to do these things, no, it wouldn’t be strange. But for you, Lady, of course it is.”
Jiang Yinyue caught the mocking undertone.
The noble lady once untouchable now had a touch of mortal life, which gave this man from a slightly lesser family a satisfying sense of reversal and vanity.
What a petty face.
“Where did Lord Zhao get the drumstick in your left hand?”
The man smiled. “A secret recipe from the imperial kitchen.”
“And the wine in your right hand?”
He deliberately sniffed the aroma. “Begged from a colleague.”
“And the carriage you rode in?”
“Driven by an imperial coachman.”
Jiang Yinyue poked at the fire and glanced at the ministers and attendants around the Crown Prince. In a casual tone, she said, “Even I am finding some value in making fire and boiling water along the way. But Lord Zhao, besides padding the numbers, what value do you bring to Your Highness?”
The man was momentarily stunned. Jiang Yinyue continued unhurriedly, “It’s been three years, and Lord Zhao has stagnated in the Chamberlain’s Office without promotion. Even for this trip, just to pad the numbers, you spent a great deal of effort to secure it, right? How come I don’t see you staying by Your Highness’s side?”
“You…”
Jiang Yinyue feigned realization. “Oh, it’s because you’re all show and no substance.”
The man’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot, flushing green then white. The fine wine and drumstick in his hands suddenly lost their appeal. He sneered, no longer bothering to maintain decorum. “Still as sharp-tongued as ever. But three years ago, facing doubts and mockery, why didn’t you handle it so smoothly, Lady? Feeling guilty?”
Seeing Jiang Yinyue’s face turn cold, the man did not linger and strode away. “A stain is something you can never wash off in your lifetime.”
As he spoke, the back of his robe sank. He instinctively turned around.
Jiang Yinyue pointed to her own back and smiled. “There’s a stain. What a pity for this expensive brocade robe. Lord Zhao, why don’t you give it a wash? It would count as doing something valuable with your own hands along the way, and you could witness whether the stain can be washed off.”
Veins bulged on the man’s forehead. What prominent noble lady acted so improperly as to throw muddy snow at someone!
A grown man wouldn’t stoop to argue with a little woman. He ground his teeth and flicked his sleeve as he left.
On the other side, the imperial chef prepared ingredients and heated oil in the wok.
Aroma wafted everywhere.
Wei Xichen sat inside the sandalwood carriage and instructed Fu Zhongcai to prepare some food for Jiang Yinyue and Wei Qin.
Fu Zhongcai passed on the order. Holding a silver basin and cloth towel for washing, he prepared to wipe down the Crown Prince.
Traveling outdoors had many inconveniences, but Wei Xichen loved cleanliness and meticulously wiped himself every night.
His robust body gleamed with a warm luster under the lantern light. Wei Xichen took the wrung-out wet cloth from Fu Zhongcai and slowly wiped his chest.
Near his heart was an old scar from taking an arrow for his little childhood sweetheart.
But as he turned his head, she had fled for her life alone.
Fu Zhongcai secretly glanced once. After helping the Crown Prince dress, he stepped down from the carriage and nodded to Yan Zhuyu waiting outside.
“Why doesn’t Your Ladyship return to your own carriage?”
Yan Zhuyu always treated the Crown Prince’s favored eunuchs courteously. She handed over a bronze handwarmer and cautioned, “You’re getting on in years; take care to stay warm.”
“Thank you for Your Ladyship’s concern.”
Fu Zhongcai did not refuse the kindness. As a favor in return, he had two portions of dinner prepared and sent into the Crown Prince’s carriage.
That night, fierce winds raged, sweeping across the towering mountain wilds. Snow fell like flying petals, shattered jade pure and exquisite. Winters came and went, the pristine white unchanging.
People chatting idly around the campfires in twos and threes dispersed one after another, returning to their carriages.
Jiang Yinyue nestled on the small couch inside the carriage, reading by lamplight. From the corner of her eye, she watched Wei Qin take the waterskin from the carriage wall.
He drank only a sip before hanging it back and silently took out bedding to make a pallet on the floor of the carriage.
Jiang Yinyue was speechless. She had secretly mixed hot water into Wei Qin’s waterskin just to see if he shrank back from heat inadvertently.
Tempered to lukewarm, others wouldn’t have extreme reactions, and Wei Qin showed little response. He simply preferred thirst over drinking it.
What a quirk.
Jiang Yinyue blew out the candle in her hand and used the scroll as a pillow under her neck.
The night was cold. The thick quilt prepared by the Jiang Mansion maids for the little couple covered only Jiang Yinyue, weighing on her chest and bringing nightmare after nightmare.
“I didn’t… You’re all slandering me…”
“Miss.”
The woman, cornered and unable to defend herself, opened her moist sleeping eyes at the familiar voice and stared dazedly at Wei Qin in the three-inch lamplight.
“They don’t believe me.”
Midnight released the grievances pent up during the day. The barriers of forced smiles loosened, letting vulnerability and sensitivity seep out. With a thick nasal tone, as if murmuring to herself or confiding, Jiang Yinyue said.
Wei Qin raised his hand but hesitated to lower it. Finally, he patted her through the quilt—she still hadn’t fully recovered. “They don’t matter.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I do.”
Jiang Yinyue’s parched heart, long awaiting nectar, suddenly received a drop of moistening rain. She sat up and stared at the man who seemed to have lost a few souls from his three souls and seven spirits. She felt he wasn’t quite real, his shell pulled along by lingering obsessions in the world.
“You never seem to smile.”
Wei Qin lowered his eyes. His thin nightclothes offered no warmth against the cold, but he was oblivious, sitting silently by the couch.
Exhausted, Jiang Yinyue leaned her head on his shoulder, seeking a bit of warmth, only to be repelled by his body temperature.
She pulled back with a smile. “I must be muddleheaded from sleep. You’re not used to skin contact with others.”
But in the next instant, a large hand clasped the back of her head.
Her forehead rested against Wei Qin’s shoulder again.
“Except for Miss.”
Her misty almond eyes flickered. Jiang Yinyue struggled to straighten up and stared curiously at Wei Qin’s pale thin lips.
What had he just said?
“You… say it again.”
Wei Qin felt uneasy under her stare and turned his face away. The woman showed no budding shyness, only relentless curiosity. Would hearing it again make her understand?
“It’s Miss who isn’t used to it.”
Not used to being touched by him.
Bitten back, Jiang Yinyue grabbed Wei Qin as he started to rise, wanting to retort. But with their noses almost touching, she instinctively pulled away.
Only then did she realize Wei Qin was proving who was truly rejecting the intimacy that should exist between husband and wife.
Otherwise, how could his tall, lean, sturdy frame lean toward her at a single pull?
Jiang Yinyue froze. She recalled the wedding night when she had felt repulsed midway through Wei Qin removing her wedding robes and called a halt. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if it was Wei Qin who disliked touch or if she was unaccustomed to his.
“I…”
“It’s fine. It’s late; rest.”
Wei Qin lay back on his pallet. There was no resentment from three years of neglect; he was calm like a deep pool that could never be stirred.
Bottomless.
Early morning, rosy clouds dispersed, and dawn light poured across the vast snowy mountains.
The soldiers who trained every morning rose earlier than most civil officials, some jogging laps, others practicing punches.
Wei Xichen was among them, his white robes blending with the snow mountain.
He took the arrow handed by a guard, drew the longbow, and was about to aim at the straw target when the arrow tip turned, pointing straight at Wei Qin, who had just stepped down from his carriage.
Two pairs of similarly narrow eyes narrowed in unison.
Wei Qin did not dodge.
An intangible tension flowed faintly between the two men.
Wei Xichen fully drew the bow, but when another person appeared in the direction of the arrow tip and blocked Wei Qin, he redirected and shot through the bullseye.
Jiang Yinyue didn’t know why Wei Xichen aimed at Wei Qin so early in the morning. Though she knew the arrow wouldn’t fly, she resolutely stood in front of Wei Qin, coolly eyeing the man opposite.
Amid cheers, Wei Xichen tossed the bow and turned to leave. No one could fathom the sudden tension of that instant.
The guard who caught the bow puzzledly said, “Your Highness only shot one arrow today.”
Fu Zhongcai sighed. “Yes.”
“Steward Fu?”
“Put it away.”
Fu Zhongcai followed the Crown Prince, not daring to say more.
Jiang Yinyue turned to Wei Qin. Finding the Crown Prince inexplicable, she asked, “Are you all right?”
Wei Qin shook his head, took out grain, and fed the horses.
The other horses were all eating with heads down, except for that scruffy horse, which was both mad and restless.
The scruffy horse was tied to a wooden stake, ignored by all.
Jiang Yinyue approached, but before she got close, its raised front hoof forced her back.
Clearly, someone had disciplined it the night before.
Harshly disciplined.
The enraged horse neighed, drawing many eyes.
A horse handler came over and kindly warned, “This little beast has too wild a temper. Swordmaster Han Jian from Your Ladyship’s side whipped it twenty times or so, but it still won’t submit.”
Han Jian…
Jiang Yinyue knew this was the house slave Yan Zhuyu had brought from Yangzhou. He had two younger sisters, Han Yan and Han Xun—the two female attendants.
The three siblings obeyed Yan Zhuyu without question.
After Empress Dong blocked Yan Zhuyu’s path to becoming the primary consort, she specially allowed the Han siblings into the palace as Yan Zhuyu’s exclusive attendants.
Alternating tension and relaxation, mixing grace with might—it soothed Yan Zhuyu’s sense of loss. At least on the surface, Yan Zhuyu accepted the favor.
She had no choice but to accept.
Jiang Yinyue looked at the scruffy horse and shook her head.
After breakfast, the group set off. The snow mountain ahead wasn’t steep, but the frost made it hard to traverse. Carriages with passengers struggled even more, so the Crown Prince ordered everyone to proceed on foot or horseback to lighten the load on the horses.
Jiang Yinyue trailed at the back of the convoy, occasionally glancing at the scruffy horse led by Han Jian.
The horse’s front hooves were bound, making it hop awkwardly. It tumbled forward several times, inevitably earning a lashing from Han Jian.
Han Jian was burly with a fierce face, yet he couldn’t suppress the scruffy horse’s spirit. Man and horse battled at the rear, falling behind the convoy.
The lagging scruffy horse lacked pure bloodline and received no favor from the accompanying generals or handlers; it was nearly forgotten.
Jiang Yinyue walked over. “If you keep beating it, you’ll kill it.”
The usually shadow-like, silent Han Jian spoke startlingly. “Better if it dies. No one would care.”
Jiang Yinyue sneered coldly. “Go back to your mistress.”
Han Jian gave her a sidelong glare. “Your Ladyship ordered me to discipline this horse.”
“Beat it into submission so she can ride it and save face, right?”
“Mind your words, Lady Jiang.”
Jiang Yinyue ignored the warning in Han Jian’s eyes. She yanked the sword from his waist, and with a swing, severed the hemp rope binding the horse.
The scruffy horse immediately reared its front hooves and kicked Han Jian away.
Han Jian hadn’t expected Jiang Yinyue to be so reckless. Furious, he reached to reclaim his sword, but a figure suddenly charged from the diagonal front and kicked him a zhang away, nearly tumbling him down the slope.
Wei Qin coolly eyed Han Jian as he slowly rose, sensing the other’s ignited fury but paying it no mind. He took the sword from Jiang Yinyue’s hand and tossed it back. “You’re done here.”
That tone was like scorning a brutish warrior.
Han Jian clenched his fists. Since following his mistress into the palace, which seventh-rank official or lower hadn’t treated him with courtesy? Today was the first time a seventh-rank compiler had scorned him.
But fighting over a horse would ruin his mistress’s reputation. Han Jian sheathed his sword and passed the two expressionlessly, as if letting it go. Yet in the instant he brushed past Wei Qin, he threw a punch at Wei Qin’s side waist.
Tit for tat, call it even.
His fist could shatter stone and snap jade—enough to break two ribs of this civil official.
Recovery would take three months at least.
But the swung fist was gripped tightly, unable to withdraw.
Intense pain shot through his knuckles.
He looked in shock at the young civil official beside him, incredulous.
Wei Qin’s face remained unchanged. Just as he was about to crush Han Jian’s finger bones, he suddenly released his strength and pulled Jiang Yinyue aside to make way.
The commotion drew the attention of the rear of the caravan. Han Jian left with a sullen face without stopping.
Jiang Yinyue noticed the clash of their strengths. In her surprise, she spotted the untied Scruffy Horse trying to flee. Quick-eyed and deft-handed, she grabbed the reins and a tuft of mane before flipping onto its back.
“Whoa!”
The horse was unwilling to submit. It bucked and twisted its hips, flinging its buttocks in an attempt to throw the woman off its back.
Wei Qin did not intervene in time. He stepped aside and quietly watched Jiang Yinyue tame the horse.
The horse’s commotion was loud and attracted increasing attention. The spectators’ discussions spread through the caravan but were kept outside the human wall formed by the Crown Prince’s personal guards.
The perceptive subordinates would not disturb Your Highness the Crown Prince over a mere show.
Wei Xichen rode forward astride the Sweat-Blooded Steed, which traversed the rugged mountain path as if it were flat ground.
A pure white steed, one in ten thousand.
For some reason, he seemed to sense something. He suddenly turned his head, his gaze following the slope’s curve, sweeping over the crowd until it landed on the pink-clad young lady striving to tame the horse.
Her delicate shouts subdued the unruly mount, her figure light and agile upon its back.
Just like vividly in his memory.